#Push your beliefs on me. I rather be friends if they’re long lasting AND they’re meaningful friendships

[meejijis]

I can’t do friendships if there’s no communication

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 219

Soooo.... as much as I love @baelpenrose, @writing-with-olive, @quantumizedinsanity, and many others for creating and beta reading this, I want to give a super extra special shout out to @lwgph and @freakfagot for very kindly letting me know that I completely skipped chapter 219 when I posted 220 last week.

And since 220 actually references events that happen in this chapter, I am looping around and posting it this week. Thank you both, so so much, for catching that.

Parvati still had not returned to work two days later, and I had just received a message that morning from Xiomara that she was requesting a leave of absence.  As worried as I was, I probably would have done the same thing, so the leave had been granted, open-ended.  There wasn’t much work to be done, anyway - all of the focus currently was on preparing for landfall, and jobs were locked in.  Hannah and I could handle living space allocations, easily.

All of which did absolutely nothing to calm my worries as I poked at a vegetarian curry in one of the mess halls.

“I am reasonably certain it has given up fighting back,” a deep voice rumbled from behind me. 

I turned halfheartedly to greet Jokul and invite him to take a seat. “Got a lot on my mind and no convenient crisis to distract me,” I admitted.

“Such is normally the human condition. Or so I am told.” He winced as he chewed a mouthful of pasta. “That is not what squash should feel like.”

“Apparently we ran out of food stock on butternut squash really quickly.” I sighed and gave up, pushing my food toward him. “Appetite’s off.  It’s gobi masala, help yourself.”

He shook his head gently. “I do not enjoy cauliflower, but thank you.” After a moment of consideration, he set his fork down. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Wish I could,” I sighed. “But it’s not my story to tell. A friend of mine is going through a lot right now, and wants some space. Given what they just confided to us about their past, I don’t blame them and it isn’t a situation where I can really push, you know?”

“I take it this friend is not of the variety to spar? I have not seen any new faces lately.”

“Definitely not the sparring type,” I confirmed. “That’s kind of what set everything off.”

He nodded in realization. “The situation with our escorts, I take it.”

I groaned and dropped my forehead onto my hands. Peeking between my fingers to see his reaction, I asked in defeat “Do you think we made a rash decision?”

“From what I understand, no.  They believe we are inferior and wish to force us into that mold, correct?”

“Mm hmm.”

“We lack the martial capacity to fight directly, and allowing them to remain would instill sufficient paranoia that they need not take any action to divide us. But that is simply my belief.  I take it that your friend believes differently.”

I nodded, head still propped on one hand as it had been so frequently lately. “They want us to find a more peaceful solution, or at least try something else before we go straight into the splodey parts.”

“Did they have such a solution to suggest?”

“No one has, as far as I can tell. That’s the problem. And with this person, it’s more complicated because of their past.”

“Not a cryptic phrase at all,” he teased gently before trying another bite of the pasta. “It is less objectionable when congealed, which is a terrible realization.”

That at least got a snort from me. “Some foods are like that. But we’ll have fresh food again before too long. They’re trying to conserve root stocks of everything that we are going to be growing on Von, and rather than waste everything else, we are using it up the best we can.”

“This cannot be the best use of these ingredients. I refuse to believe such blatant deceit.”

Another snicker. “That filling probably came from the console, if the texture is that bad. We were just talking the other day about how most console vegetables have the wrong texture. It doesn’t help - like, at all - that everyone likes them to be cooked to different degrees.  From what Miys told me, the console basically takes an average and uses that.”

“A case in which no one wins,” he sighed dramatically. “But it does explain whatever this is.”

“Not everyone likes curry as much as I do,” I pointed out. “Otherwise, that would be the perfect solution.”

“You are correct. I rescind my objection, although I am going to strongly recommend they do not use the five tons of beets I have been harvesting as borscht.”

“Five tons? That’s…. A lot of borscht.”

“It could likely be better used as a reasonable amount of borscht, roasted beets, and a substantial amount of sugar,” he stated firmly.

I wasn’t going to argue. Instead, I flicked open my datapad and made a note to contact Grey and Xiomara about the idea. “Noted. And thank you. I like the resource distribution side of you, by the way.”

“I am certain Farro has made it clear: an unfortunately large part of being a warlord in the After was gathering and managing resources. It is all well and good to have someone attend to it for you, but one should always have a close eye on everything to avoid abuse.” As if to make his point, he shook a ravioli at me. “Beets are easy, everyone likes sugar. Making war is harder.”

His statement brought me back to the reason I was sulking as far from my office as I could get. “I already know what Arthur would do in this situation: he made it very clear to Charly that he only suggests we wait until we are on planet so that the GC doesn’t feel the need to send new escorts. But what would you do, knowing that not everyone agreed with a decision?”

“Anyone in our settlement was allowed to object to any decision we made, provided they were able to suggest an alternative. And then everyone would vote, in most cases. The only exception was generally when a decision needed to made quickly, such as a disaster or an attack.”

I blinked several times, skeptical. “It can’t be that simple.”

“Truthfully, it is not. Wrong decisions can still be made, but emotional ones were less likely when the person objecting had to provide the alternative rather than just objecting.”

“Thank you. For that, and for the beets.” I stood, picking up my half eaten food. “I’ll talk to the Council, see about opening a poll to the Ark.  It will need to have a time limit on it - we land sooner rather than later.”

“Our people need opportunity, not time,” he shrugged. “If I have learned anything, it is that.”

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[sundayswiththeilluminati]

The unplanned fourth part to my apparently-a-series on Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage (parts 1, 2, and 3), today we look at an aspect of his story that doesn’t always apply in a D&D world: how do you prosecute espionage? 

Psych! That’s not the real question. The real question is: do you prosecute espionage? The answer is a) not as obvious as it might seem; and b) going to differ between D&D and the real world, because D&D governments are storytelling tools and IRL governments are...not.

The benefits of prosecuting espionage are obvious: the interests of justice are served, the person responsible can be punished appropriately and in accordance with the law, the full extent of their crimes are revealed (including potentially exonerating other suspects), counterintelligence gets to chalk up a win, and other people thinking about committing espionage themselves are hopefully discouraged. But there are a surprising number of arguments in the “against” column.

Some agencies that identify enemy assets want to leave them in place for their own purposes. For about 20 years during the Cold War CIA reserved the right to just plain not tell the Department of Justice if they had proof someone was engaged in espionage because they wanted the opportunity to turn them as double agents, feed them misinformation, etc. rather than outing and punishing them (President Gerald Ford ended this arrangement by executive order in 1976). This isn’t necessarily a good idea IRL, but it forms the bread and butter of RPG espionage storylines and is definitely something to think about in a D&D context.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after a trial, and an agency often finds itself with sufficient evidence to doubt a person’s trustworthiness but not enough hard proof to take to court. In those cases agencies may decide to leave that person in place but cut off their access to classified info. Ironically, sometimes this means promoting them - moving the person into a higher-ranking job in a different area that just so happens not to deal in secrets. Sometimes the asset realizes they’re close to being rumbled and goes along with the effort, maybe taking retirement early or changing jobs before they can be pushed, and the whole matter will quietly lapse without anything so formal as a trial. Sometimes someone makes a mistake and sidelines a loyal, competent employee. That’s a judgement call.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after an open trial. Given how severe the punishments are for espionage, civilized countries do try to stick to that even though holding such a trial carries risks. Providing proof that someone stole secrets generally requires talking about said secrets, which means revealing classified info in court, which may negate trying to keep the information secret in the first place. They may also not want to reveal in court how they figured out that person was a spy, especially if it was a double agent or cryptographic source that fingered them. In D&D-land where monarchs are common and still wield judicial power, fantasy rulers may hand down whatever punishment they please based on whatever evidence they (or the DM) will accept, so this isn’t as much of a concern.

Even a D&D monarchy that doesn’t have to worry about revealing secrets in court might think twice before publicly punishing a high-ranking spy, though, because the only thing more embarrassing than failing to convict a major spy is succeeding. A government having to admit that its people were compromised, especially high-ranking people, is a body-blow to its standing both at home and abroad. It damages trust in the government, makes the public feel unsafe, and makes allies hesitant to share information lest their secrets be leaked as well. Lower-ranking government employees may think, “My boss is selling secrets, why not me too?” or “Why bother to follow security protocol when some mole will give it all away?” Every decision and contribution made by the asset becomes retroactively suspect, even those that had nothing to do with whatever secrets they leaked. The foreign nation to whom they passed information inevitably gets drawn in as well, negatively affecting those relations. And of course everyone involved looks very, very bad.

All of which leads me to say I think there’s a chance - maybe not a good chance, but a chance - that Essek could privately confess the affair to the Bright Queen without major public repercussions. Leylas Kryn could simply declare him a traitor and order his public execution without justifying herself, but it would raise a lot of questions and none of the answers would help her or the ruling dens; Den Thelyss allowing Den Kryn to unilaterally execute a high-profile member - a child of the umavi - without explanation would stoke ferocious rumors about what Essek might have done and cast a major shadow over the entire den. But publicly declaring what Essek had done also doesn’t do the Dynasty any favors. It makes everyone involved look very bad - how could they miss a spy at the highest level? so close to the Bright Queen herself?? who can be trusted??? - especially Den Thelyss, which might lose its place among the ruling three as a result. Publicly outing such a high-ranking Kryn official as compromised might set off the Dynasty equivalent of a Red Scare, too, since the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount mentions the constant and well-justified Dynasty fear of agents sent by Lolth to destabilize the Kryn out of sheer spite that they got away from her.

By the time Campaign 2 ended the latest clash between Empire and Dynasty had been settled and neither side seemed to want to stir it up again right away. The fact that both stolen beacons have been returned also bolsters the case for letting the matter lie. A confession from Essek clears up remaining doubt on the Bright Queen’s end - while he doesn’t know every Empire agent in the Dynasty, he can tell her exactly how the beacons were stolen and who else was involved, probably clearing the names of many currently under suspicion. Essek would have to resign as Shadowhand, of course, and leave the Dynasty (at least for a couple centuries), but he never seemed interested in being Shadowhand and he wants to go exploring anyway. Den Thelyss definitely wants the whole affair swept under the rug and would go along with whatever story made that happen. Other than Verin I don’t get the impression many people would miss Essek except as a lost opportunity. I hope they’d give him long enough before leaving Rosohna to pack up his cool leyline-weathervane though. He could totally mount that on Yussa’s tower. Or Allura’s!

And that concludes this particular train of thought re: Essek Thelyss in the context of IRL spies and espionage. Again, all of this is only as relevant to the campaign as the players decide it is, so don’t go giving people crap for being “unrealistic” about their versions of how the beacon trade went down. Frankly the last thing you should want here is realism, because “realistic” espionage is a callous world of deception, manipulation, and general human pettiness with no sense of narrative flow.

None of what I’ve talked about is an excuse for Essek’s actions. But it is a reason. It’s why and how a person entrusted with precious national assets could get into a headspace where it seems reasonable, even necessary, to trade them away to foreign enemies. It’s how a person of otherwise decent character & beliefs can end up committing terrible crimes. It’s why that person might sincerely regret what they’ve done, and not just because they fear punishment. The Warmind Rasputin paraphrases Octavia E. Butler saying, “Misdirected by accident or intent, intelligence can foster its own ecstasies of growth and decay.” In other words: sometimes you get too far into your own head. Without an anchor to reality, without perspective, your own mind gets twisted up. Sometimes you just need a friend (or seven) to grab your arm and say, “Breathe.”

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

[curiosity-killed]

Lang Qianqiu deserves more love goddammit: a post, unfortunately

This brought to you by the wonderful @veliseraptor & @/yuer on Twitter but also mostly out of spite and the fact that it’s preventing me from writing a very dumb poke-the-bear post abt the entire weird social media culture around The Minors

As always ✨SPOILERS!! SPOILERS EVERYWHERE✨

So first off: when I hit the scene where lqq confronts xl and screams “I will never be like you” I sat up in bed, did a little shimmy of delight, and hissed “fuck yes” at like 2 AM so. Now you have a preview of wtf this train wreck will be

1 ) lqq is a good character

We don’t get a ton of time with lqq because tgcf is 87 side characters running across stage with The Most Interesting Concept constantly one-upping each other before vanishing. But what we do get is, I think, enough to make a pretty compelling story: Lang Qianqiu is a kind and generous prince who is also the sole survivor of the bloody massacre of his entire family, committed by the people dearest to him (both in his belief that Gusohi Fangxin did it and in the reality of An Le’s involvement), who goes on to peacefully lead his fractious nation into a peaceful reign before he ascends as a powerful enough (aka beloved and worshipped enough) god to be ranked among the top heavenly generals. That’s like. Pretty fucking classic protagonist vibes right there.

And, as usual with mxtx’s characters, we get a lot more than this lovely little backstory. In his interactions in canon, lqq is capable of great grief and anger; he is willing to sacrifice himself if it means avenging his murdered family; and he simultaneously holds both great hatred and great respect for his old teacher. And, of course, he winds up raising and taking care of his enemy’s son which shows a remarkable depth of compassion and emotional messiness that I find terribly compelling. He struggles with a simplistic view of justice that is supported by lies told to “protect” him and that is uprooted by the truth and forces him to try to make sense of the world without the guardrails that others installed around him (looking at you mister fangxin sir).

Also I’m stealing my own tweets bc I’m Right but:

*pulls up single barstool to lqq is a good character table* I think it’s interesting & Says Things abt the continued relationship btwn lqq & xl that lqq *didn’t* recognize xl, implying that he left fangxin’s mask in place even when he went to kill him

Like here is the man who killed his family & best friend, who left him abandoned in bloodshed on his 17th bday—& here is also the man who saved his life, who taught him, who lqq looked up to & wanted to be like

Even when lqq *does* recognize xl, he still has so much respect for him paired with that hatred that it’s honestly rlly tragic? Like man. There’s so much grief in lqq’s repeated demands for a duel & insisting it’s fine if xl kills him as long as he doesn’t hold back

*pats lqq pompom* this bb is so sad. And so much more like his teacher than either of them seem to realize or necessarily want

Despite being a pretty minor character, lqq gets a lot of complexity and nuance! Look at this child trying to be grown up while desperately turning to his old master for guidance and “the truth”! Look at him! Be sad!!

2 ) lqq is an excellent parallel to xl

Okay stealing my own tweet again don’t look at me I yell the same shit everywhere

Xl didn’t want lqq to become like him (self-sacrificing, vengeful, alone) but lqq not only became alone, chasing vengeance, & willing to sacrifice himself for revenge—he also became kind, open-minded, & remorseful!! & he still clearly respects xl @ novel end 🙃🙃

We all know hc’s “they’re not very alike at all” and yeah sure baby go support your man but narratively, there’s a lot of importance given to cycles, parallels, and foils in mxtx’s writing and most explicitly (compared to mdzs, haven’t read svss) in tgcf. For example, *gestures at beefleaf, gestures at Xianle Trio vs Wuyogn Crew, gestures at Xie Lian & Jun Wu’s whole uh. Deal.* And while I’d argue xl and lqq are part of a triumvirate rather than a pair, we’re not including mister three-face in this conversation so just looking at xl and lqq:

Both adored and sheltered crown princes

Both taught by a guoshi who was seeking to prevent the repetition of their own tragedies and in their efforts, lied/omitted information and failed to protect their charge from tragedy

Both were betrayed* by their closest friends

Both are the last living members of their respective royal families

Both caught the interest of supernatural beings from a young age

Etc etc I’m getting v bored and distracted writing this so moving on

Most importantly to me, we have their betrayal by a very close and adored mentor and how they react. The confrontation I mention at the start of this shitshow is really imo one of the most important scenes in the novel because it a) illustrates the differences in xl and Jun Wu and b) sort of gives you a preview of how xl ultimately wins

So a) Jun Wu and Xie Lian both take a talented, marked-for ascension young prince under their wing. Jun Wu sees himself in the boy and obsesses over shaping him into Jun Wu’s own image in the belief that this will make him the perfect heir. Jun Wu pushes his chosen heir into situations where Xie Lian is repeatedly harmed in an effort to show that the common people are fickle and cruel and don’t deserve his compassion and care.

Meanwhile, Xie Lian is reluctantly roped into mentoring his prince due to his inability to stand aside when he feels he could do something to prevent hurt or injustice befalling another (simultaneously his great strength and great weakness! God I love him). Xie Lian tries to teach his student to believe in and care for the common people and not to sacrifice himself (see: flashback convo re:taking the force of the sword strike into his own body).

When Xie Lian refuses to bend in the shape Jun Wu demands, Jun Wu bashes his head into the wall. When Lang Qianqiu cries “I will never be like you!”, Xie Lian laughs and says “Good!”.

B) this of course feeds directly into foreshadowing! Like Lang Qianqiu’s bold words, xl ultimately refuses to become like his mentor and remains defiant even when it would stop him from being hurt. Xl beats lqq and says so what if I tricked you, so what if I lied, I still won. Naturally, xl beats Jun Wu not through standard swordplay but by using a trick he learned while forced to busk and wander the earth alone and unlucky for centuries.

…okay so I have fully forgotten what I was actually saying here! Anyway!

Like Xie Lian, Lang Qianqiu spends a time consumed with the need for vengeance, hunting his enemy and rejecting the heavens. And like Xie Lian, he winds up caring for his enemy’s “son” and trying to both comfort him and maintain what’s left of Qi Rong’s life force despite having previously been hellbent on destroying him—bc he sees the impact it has on another person. In the end, he even gives a gift to Xie Lian—his mentor, his role model, and the one who killed his father—that was once given to him as a symbol of unexpected kindness. Sound familiar?

But, importantly, and contradictory to what I have been yelling abt but whatever it’s 12:30 am, Lang Qianqiu is not a direct mirror of Xie Lian but a closing of a vital loop in the story. Lqq is very similar to xl (I will die on this hill!! Only I won’t bc I’m stronger than y’all and will keep swinging these pots and pans) but bc xl tries to do better and keep lqq from suffering the way xl has, lqq is able to have a gentler and more optimistic path forward. He’s proof that even a small act of kindness or even kindness to only one person still matters and has a ripple effect that can’t be seen when you’re in the middle of it—a thread started with xl giving the coral pearl to Lang Ying and closed with Lang Qianqiu returning the pearl to Xie Lian.

So I have no idea if any of this is coherent or compelling but I meant to be asleep two hours ago and the points are:

A) Lang Qianqiu is good actually

B) parallels!!!

C) look ive already started another wip about Lang Qianqiu and Xie Lian and I didn’t want this but no one else wrote it so now I have to so pls just accept this as a warning

*sort of air quotes around this for Xie Lian bc frankly Mu Qing was right & Xie Lian kicked feng xin out BUT on the other hand, it was experienced as a betrayal and we also again have all of Jun Wu’s shit so it evens out

[starlightsearches]

can we perhaps get a lil fic where the reader used to be a first order medic who crushed on Hux and used to treat Hux’s injuries when he was thrown around, but has now defected to the resistance. Hux survives TROS with injuries from, well, everything that happened, and is rescued by the resistance and taken to the reader (now the resistance medic) to be cared for. Cue them remembering eachother, and perhaps lots of touch starved hux who isn’t used to being looked after, and the two finally admit their feelings for eachother?? Sorry if this is so long and confusing, you can change or shorten any bits you don’t like or understand 😅💕

Hello friend! Thanks for the request. I’m sorry it took me a thousand years to write it; I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hope you like it!!

Requests are open ✨

Armitage Hux x Resistance Medic! Reader (GN)

Warnings: Language, an injury, angst and some medical care! (and non-canon compliance if anyone cares about that)

It’s the middle of the night cycle when Poe’s voice crackles through the speaker on your comm link, calling for you. Lurching from your doze, you search for it with both hands, brushing through the piles of records and empty caff cups before you spot the little cylinder.

“I’m here,” you hold the comm close to your mouth, using your other hand to gather up needed supplies, shoving them in your medkit haphazardly. Poe never commed you before a landing—not unless things were bad. You push the panic away, steeling yourself for the worst case scenario. It wouldn’t be the first time you had held a friend’s life in your hands, but it never got easier; you just got stronger. You could be stronger now. “What do you need?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too bad this time,” he clarifies, and you let out a shaky breath, offering your thanks to the universe, “we picked up a, uh, new recruit. He’s pretty banged up, having some trouble walking. I know you can get him feeling better; can you meet us at the landing pad?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you shove the comm in your pocket, brushing a hand over your hair. There’s a soft hint of disquiet resting on your shoulders, a crawling over your skin. Poe wasn’t usually this cryptic. Something big must have happened.

You decide to leave your medkit—since the mystery patient’s injuries don’t sound too serious — walking swiftly through the sleeping base. Your footsteps echo quietly against the stone walls until the sound is swallowed by the night melody of Ajan Kloss. The warm humidity kisses your cheeks when you step out into the open, a gentle breeze pushing it away before it can linger.

The landing pad is dormant, rows and rows of sleeping x-wings keeping you company as you watch for any sign of the Falcon, and soon enough you spot it, tracing its path through the night sky.

You spy Poe's boots at the mouth of the hatch as soon as it opens—Rey must have been piloting, which meant Finn would be in the cockpit with her. Strange. Poe doesn’t usually give up control of the pilot’s seat so easily. A shiver travels up your spine despite the warm night air.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you give us a hand?" he calls out to you, and you're about to tear into him for being so fucking cryptic, stomping up the loading dock. That's when you notice the shiny pair of boots near Poe's, blacker than the night around you.

You can't move anymore, frozen mid-step half-way up the ramp, heartbeat pounding like a warning siren as your eyes trace up the boots, the battered, black uniform and you don’t need to see his face to know that you're not dreaming this time. It’s him.

You keep your eyes on Poe—only on Poe—and your distress must show in your features because the look he gives you in return is full of concern.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?"

You glare at him. "What the hell is this?"

It has to be a joke. Poe is trying to be funny, calling him a recruit instead of a prisoner—but the general isn't handcuffed. He has an arm slung over Poe's shoulder, leaning heavily against the pilot. There’s a tear in his pant leg, white skin stained red with dripping blood, the wound sore and angry. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the purpling bruises along his cheeks. It’s sad how familiar he seems when he’s broken, more recognizable to you now than he ever was in any holovid.

“See, Hugs, I told you,” Poe clears his throat, voice light with humor but he watches you carefully, a warning in his eyes. You can see enough of the general to know he’s not looking at you, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance, his jaw set.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting your expression settle into a scowl. “Told him what?”

“That you hadn’t forgotten him.”

Damn him. He had asked about you? Your heart softens in spite of yourself, and you turn automatically to Hux, the last shreds of your anger falling from your chest. He still won’t meet your eyes, shoulders slumped, his breathing a little labored and you’re sure it’s not just from the pain.

How many times had you been with him, just like this? Hidden together in forgotten corridors or tucked away in his quarters, the threat of his father looming over you while bandaging wounds and feeling for breaks and ignoring the way his chest heaved underneath your fingers. There was no word for that kind of despair, seeing someone you loved so quietly and so desperately wrecked so completely. It snakes under your skin again, finding it’s old favorite cracks left unhealed; if you’re not careful, it will swallow you whole.

There’s only one thing to do in a situation like this: fix what you can.

You shift your weight from foot to foot before heaving a sigh, “fine, let’s go.”

“Yes! You’re the best; I owe you one, sweetheart, really—” he’s already moving out of the general’s grip, waiting for you to take his place and you look at him in alarm, stepping back.

“Wait,” your adrenaline spikes, and you have to force yourself to take a breath, “you’re not coming with us?“

He shakes his head, “Rey, Finn and I have some, uh, unfinished business. We only stopped by to drop him off.”

Well shit—you take a few steadying breaths, hoping your anxiety doesn’t show too plainly on your face. You hadn’t thought you’d be alone with him so soon. You don’t want to think about why that makes a difference to you.

“Oh, okay.” You nod, force an unconvincing smile to save face. Poe wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t important. He furrows his brow—not yet convinced.

“You’re gonna be alright?”

“Yeah . . . yeah. I’ll—we’ll—be fine.” Your smile tightens at the corners but still doesn’t reach your eyes, and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before walking past you to the cock pit.

And now you’re left alone.

“Let’s go,” you slide into place under his arm where he’s propped himself up against the wall, gripping him tightly around his waist, fingers holding him steady at the ribs.

He flinches, pulling away slightly, and you loosen your grip.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head, eyes examining his reflection in his boots, and you place your hand with a little more care, hoping he can’t feel the way your heartbeat echoes through your body.

It’s been too long since you’ve last touched him; it still makes your heart race.

The trip back to the medbay is slow and arduous. It’s not just the gash in his leg that’s impairing his movement—his ankle is very clearly broken, based on the way he winces whenever it makes even the slightest contact with the ground.

He’s certainly not heavy, by any means, but supporting his weight gets more difficult with each step, and you’d rather not see him sustain any more injuries if your grip on him doesn’t hold.

“We can rest here for a moment.” You stop near a pile of rocks by the entrance to the base, lowering him down into a sitting position before finally taking the chance to catch your breath.

It's a dead night, a still one. Any breeze you'd felt earlier had faded long ago, and the air sits heavy on your skin and heavier in your lungs.

The general doesn't seem to mind, taking long deep breaths. If it weren't for his furrowed brow, you might believe he was asleep.

“How did you know I’d be here,” you whisper, and when he looks at you, there's hurt in his eyes.

“The Order always keeps track of their defectors—especially when they run away to join the Resistance.” His tone is bitter and biting, and it hurts you more than you like.

“I didn’t run away to join the Resistance," you respond, trying to tamp down a sneer, angry at yourself. For letting him get to you so easily, for caring so much about what he thinks.

For missing him every day since the last.

Still, it was true, what you said. When you left, you only wanted to get away from the Order—it didn’t matter where.

The Resistance was the only place you were welcomed.

You had wanted it to feel like home, and parts of it did—eating late dinners with Poe in his quarters, watching over your patients, celebrating with the rest of them after every success, the same belief that they had for the cause beginning to burn in your chest.

But something was missing, in every one of those moments. And now that he's here, you wonder if the space you'd left empty for him is too large to be filled.

"Did you—" he shifts, groans, and your veins flood with anticipation, hanging on to some foolish idea of what he might say next, "did you ever . . . think of me?"

He looks at you with half-lidded eyes, surprisingly earnest; the pain must have gone to his head.

"We should get you to the medbay," you move again, no longer comfortable with staying still, "I'll go find you something to lean on while you walk, I'll be right back—"

His fingers wrap firmly around your wrist, pulling you back with surprising determination.

"I thought of you," he says, and you're looking in his eyes, so dark they're almost black in the low light, "every cycle since the last, and every cycle before that."

Your breathing grows shallow as he fits his hand against your waist, without pulling you closer or pushing you away.

"If you want me to leave, after . . . when it's all over, I'll do it. But I—"

He jumps when you press your lips to his, shaking like he's scared, but he leans into you as best he can.

"Neither of us are leaving again," you demand, and you think you might feel the ghost of a smile against your jaw, feel the slight grip of his fingers at your waist, "not if I can help it."

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[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

May 2021 Wk 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

It’s a cray cray Friday when Vietnam gets its eng subs up before GMMTV Thailand. What alter-reality are we in? Well, the Vietnamese offerings are better right now anyway. (Oooo, feel that burn.) 

Ongoing Series - Thai

Top Secret Together Ep 2 - pulping it up in the best possible way. Sure sound and production values are pants, and in classic Thai fashion the editing in post is exacerbating (rather than fixing) pacing issues, but it’s still CUTE AF. I don’t even mind the added university storyline, because they’ve got good chemistry (and a confident gay fresher after a panicked gay hazer is an old favorite... what can I say, SOTUS was my first love). We aren’t spending too much time with any one couple, so it’s weighted a lot better than Brothers was, but also character development is slow. 

Siew Sum Noi Ep 2 - Unfortunately, it’s just too hard to find, plus no subs. I’m dropping it in the hopes it comes back on my radar some day. 

Y-Destiny Ep 8 - (Thurs) It’s rough having a ghost boyfriend, half your friends are scared, the other half think you’re crazy, and kissing shortens your lifespan. This was a cute couple even if I wasn’t wild about the surrounding story. 

Close Friend Ep 5: (Dear My Star/JimmyTommy) - about high school penpals. It had to rely entirely on voice over work as the actors only meet face to face at the end. It’s a good thing they are appealing screen presences on their own, with good vocal control. It’s hard to imagine any other BL pair carrying this kinda plot. It’s by far my favorite of the series so far, and I’m not even a big JimmyTommy fan. 

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 7 - no subs. Do we care? Not really. Because we have... 

Nitiman Ep 3 - currently my favorite out of Thailand. It’s the university Thai BL i’ve been waiting for since... when was the last good one? My Engineer? Yowza. Anyway we got: head on my shoulder, baby is a floppy drunk (but still wants to be in control), proximity alert, boyfriend’s closet, seme gets seriously jelly, and a cute twist on feeding him. There’s something fun and complex about Jin’s character. He’s not a panicked bi. He knows exactly what’s going on, he just hasn’t decided if he wants Bb or not. He clearly enjoys being looked after, the compliments, and the attention, but he’s not sure if he’s going to like what happens if he gives in. I like that twist on the usual tsundere uke archetype a lot, cautious rather than willfully obtuse or freaked out. We can see Jin realizing in stages: I like this person, I like that they like me, I like the romantic attentiveness. But in the background is... do I actually want to f*k him? It’s a dynamic we don’t often see on BL. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 10 fin - the most ridiculous show using BLs worst tropes in a sort of weird smoothie of bitter greens and too ripe banana. The ending was the sappiest cheesiest thing ever, like cheese syrup tapped from the cheese tree. So of course I loved it, but I’m pretty sure I giggled through all the bits meant to be profound. Because, in the end, to tolerate this show at all, you just can’t take ANY of it seriously. RECOMMENDED (with some SERIOUS reservations and trigger warnings.) Full review here. 

Be Loved in House: I Do (Taiwan) Ep 1-2 - I don’t mind a damaged seme character but this one is a bit weird for me. Like creepy Cheese in the Trap level weird. On the bright side, the story has given our tsundere uke good motivation for his angst and great existing friendships, loyalty, and likability. Plus I’m invested in the cafe owner/innocent puppy side dishes. So if it’s only the seme character I’m not jiving with, and he’s the most established actor, it should all turn out fine. I believe in you, Taiwanese BL. 

Papa & Daddy (Taiwan) Ep 6 fin - speaking of belief. This such a good show but they gave us a cliffhanger ending. Now we must hope against hope for season two. That’s never guaranteed with Taiwan tho. So, I’m docking a few points and saying, RECOMMENDED so long as you realize it’s a cliffhanger. 

Love is Science? (Taiwan) Ep 1-9 (BL subplot) - this is a good het romance, but the fact that the BL subplot is a beautifully acted disaster bi + confident gay means you’re hearing about it whether you want to or not. Plus they just added in some GL! Come on! I gotta support Taiwan normalizing queer to this extent. They are fighting the good fight and if I also have to watch a career lady and her much younger softest straight boi get it on, too? Twist my arm with that service sub subtext. Go on Taiwan, TWIST IT. It’s on Viki. Join the revolution.   * Incidentally if you actually like the D/s het dynamic of this show, I highly recommend Japanese Kimi wa Petto - career woman keeps a hot young dancer boy as a pet. Oh yes, an actual pet, that IS the pitch. Never doubt Japan when kink is on the line. It’s also on Viki. Go get your kink on, thank me later. (If it helps: That was not a request.)  

Most Peaceful Place 2 (Vietnam) Ep 2 (AKA 5) - love triangles aren’t my thing, but if you’re gonna do it short form, by all means bring in the lead’s other BL pairing so the chemistry is on point. Now I've no idea who I want him to end up with. Can’t they just be in a poly triad? 

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 7 - I’m still enjoying it a lot. It’s still unabashedly queer and the tension is ramping up. We now have secret identity, blackmail, femme fatale, faen fatale, and incoming seme confrontation. Best of all, the series is still airing, which makes it longer than any other Vietnamese BL I’ve seen (aside from Tein Bromance - which is just too weird to count). 

Gossip - Thai BL 

SEVEN PROJECT TEASERS

No one is entirely sure what Studio Wabi Sabi’s Seven Project/7Project will entail. 

It might be like Close Friend (1 episode per couple, no linking), 

or Y-Destiny (2 episodes per couple, loosely linked), 

or The En of Love (4 episodes per couple, linked but independent consecutive stories). 

They’re giving the couple’s arcs separate titles. So each one would be what? Seven Project: Once Upon a Time or the like? We’re in Taiwanese title territory people and NO ONE WANTS TO GO THERE. Anygay... 

Once Upon a Time is the BounPrem (og UWMA) anchor story, and seems to be the most dramatic and likely saddest. These two can handle most of what’s thrown at them at this juncture, so it should be good. 

Vs Love is a BoomPeak (og Make it Right) university vehicle. Since I thought Boom was done with our nonsense, I couldn’t be more thrilled and surprised this pair is doing another show together. I don’t think either of them are the greatest actors but I find Peak very endearing and Boom charismatic on screen, so I’ll watch. 

Would You be My Love is the hotly anticipated SantaEarth launch. They’re a (cultivated) IRL ship and Earth is an established BL actor. They have great chemistry and high energy so this could be lots of fun. 

We are also getting a GL from this series from established BL actresses Samantha and Pineare. Nothing teased yet on that, but I’m looking forward to this installment the most. Also curious to see how the ladies handle the branding and promo side, not to mention the culture. (Thailand variety shows gonna force *girls* to play the Pepero game?) 

Secret Crush on You upcoming Thai BL with no release date, co-produced by and featuring (but NOT staring) Saint and directed by Cheewin (sigh) with all fresh faces. (Previously known as Stalker the series.) It looks like pure pulp and I’m not wild about the plot but could be better than expected as it’s adapted from a novel. Cheewin is an okay director when he has an actual story to follow. 

Don’t Say No the series. Coming from the producers of TharnType this is the JaFirst vehicle many have been waiting for. Friends to lovers + a good boy/bad boy pairing on a sports romance foundation. It’s basketball so they tapped Meen as well (he’s semi-pro). The bad news? You get one guess as to who is writing the darn thing? Yep it’s MAME. So, ya know, expect some slam dunk kidnapping, a light dribbling of rape, and me turning into a basketcase. AKA... 

Will I have to live blog this series in order to survive it? That seems to be the only way I can. So probably. Which means the bad sports puns will continue. Look, if I’m suffering, SO ARE YOU! 

Rumors of a new YinWar vehicle The Best Story (mini series) coming in July. Also rumors that their previously announced Love Mechanics (full length series) has either been delayed, is facing money issues, or is moving studios, or all three. 

Breaking News 

DELAYED (I’m talking these three off the watch list until we get new airing dates) 

Love Area’s release was pushed out but it got a trailer. 

Golden Blood was supposed to drop Weds but comments in MDL report that it is delayed due to C19.  

Love’s Outlet (Taiwan) is supposed to have started a 50 episode run (only 3-5 min each, what utter nonsense). Sadly, this delay is due to a surge in cases in Taiwan which was doing so well, but also doesn’t have many inoculations. 

Bad Buddy has started workshopping at GMMTV actual. 

Kang Insoo’s BTS for Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding is SO FLIPPING CUTE. You have to watch it. Trust me, I don’t rec behind the scenes stuff often. 

Next Week Looks Like This: 

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

[nejibaby]

Memories

Pairing: Neji x Fem!Uchiha Reader

Summary: There are a lot of terrible things that have happened to you as an Uchiha that you wanted to forget. But with Neji’s help, you’re able to move on and move along. Things have started getting better for you, however, once the Fourth Shinobi War was declared, time seemed to start running out.

Word Count: 2.1k

Memories - Part 1 | Deja Vu - Part 2

A/N: I didn’t exactly follow the plot and somehow it turned so angsty 🙈 Please let me know your thoughts~

There are memories you hold so dear that you refuse to have them tainted no matter what. Most of those memories are of the times you spent playing or training with your brother Shishui, his best friend Itachi, and Itachi’s brother Sasuke. Those times were the golden days for you; the best of the best, if you may.

Conversely, there are also memories that you just wish would disappear. They’re the memories of incidents you wish didn’t happen at all. They’re the type of memories that you push at the back of your mind, because you believe that if you think about it or even spare a single second for it, then it’ll be more real. Because you’re in denial. You’re in denial not only about the death of Shisui, but also of the Uchiha clan.

But then there’s a single memory you have that always stands out. It’s a memory that you both want to forget and remember.

The tragedy of the Uchiha clan had changed the only survivors — you and Sasuke. You had already started changing a little because you had to deal with your brother’s death, but seeing the horrible scene in the clan’s district had been the icing on top.

Your drastic change had been evident on the day you came back to the Academy after you were discharged at the hospital. What once was a girl full of life had become an empty shell.

The moment you sat down entered the room, people had started talking. Mostly it’s just about asking someone else if you were an Uchiha or if they know about the clan’s misfortune. They were meaningless chatters so you easily drowned them out.

But there was a comment that had reached your ears. “Why is it such a big deal? People die anyway, it just so happened her clan died on the same day.”

The comment kept ringing inside your head but then someone beside you spoke up, “Don’t you have anything else better to do than talk about someone else’s life?”

He was met with silence so he continued saying, “People die everyday, it’s a fact. Some die because of illnesses, some because of old age, some because of poverty, accidents, or murder. As shinobi, we can die in the line of duty. But that doesn’t make death any less painful to the one left behind.

“If your family is alive, then good, but maybe use that brain of yours because logic says not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

Naturally, you want to forget about the unsolicited comment of your classmate, but you want to remember that among the students inside the room, one boy had stood up for you. Quite frankly, you needed his saving that day. Otherwise, you would’ve beaten yourself up for mourning too long.

And when you realized who that boy was, his words weighed even more. Because Hyuga Neji was a boy notoriously known for thinking that everyone’s fate is predetermined from birth and that luck plays absolutely no part in it.

“Not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

And for a hot minute he had abandoned his belief as he stood up for you.

It sounds hypocritical if you think about it.

But maybe just as he had saved you, you had opened his eyes just a little bit and helped him see that his beliefs were skewed too. In a way, you had helped each other, at least you hoped.

It’s because of that day, that memory, that you find yourself gravitating towards Neji.

It isn’t attraction at all at first, more like genuine curiosity about him and his life. But you didn’t get to know him further until the Chunin exams where he had disclosed the way of their clan. It’s at that time where you understood why he acts the way he acts.

You can’t help but wonder about how two clans with almost similar circumstances— both with kekkei genkai, both living in Konoha, both considered to be one of the strongest clans in the shinobi world— could have completely different ways of living. One clan is almost completely annihilated, while the other has slaves of their own blood. And if you’re being completely honest, you aren’t exactly sure which is better.

You have gotten the urge to talk to him after hearing his story, although you really didn’t know what to say. But then the chance never came up because of the chaos orchestrated by Orochimaru.

After the Chunin exams and the attack of Orochimaru, you hadn’t heard of Neji for a while since you’ve been tasked to help with the repairs of the village. And when you did hear about him, it was terrible, terrible news.

Sasuke left the village to seek power from the very person who just wrecked havoc in Konoha. His leaving alone left you in despair. What Itachi was to Shisui is exactly what Sasuke means to you, and him doing such a thing without even letting you know makes you feel like a failure both as a friend and as a family.

The news didn’t end there, however. Apparently the squad that Shikamaru had led to retrieve Sasuke had been severely injured and were on the brink of death — one of them being Neji.

You remember feeling guilt and regret burning your skin. You remember the shame of not being able to save Sasuke from the darkness and not being able to help the retrieval squad in any way. You blame yourself for the horrible things that happened.

Since then, you have made it a point to visit the squad in the hospital every day, making sure you apologize and thank them for their service. But admittedly, it’s Neji that you always stay with longer.

It’s not that you aren’t comfortable with the others, they’re really nice and easy to get along with. But they always have other visitors with them, mostly their team members and relatives. Neji, on the other hand, didn’t get as many visits since his other teammate, Rock Lee, was also injured because of his fight with Gaara. So Tenten and Guy sensei would switch visits between the two every other day.

Besides that, his clan members rarely ever visited. And you didn’t want him to be alone in such trying moments, especially when you didn’t get to do anything to prevent this from happening.

As closed off as Neji is, because of your constant visits, you have found a way to worm yourself into the walls he put up. And by the time he’s discharged from the hospital, you somehow became close friends.

From that moment on, you find yourself coming to Neji on times that you’re in despair and in doubt. You trust him enough to tell him your stories, worries, and fears because he doesn’t judge you. And he does the same with you.

Neji listens when you want him to listen, and talks when you need him to talk. He’s quite level headed and very much rational, and because of that he gives the best advice.

With him, you find yourself healing and growing. With you, he finds himself learning to forgive.

Neji easily makes you see things in a different way; a different light; a different perspective, and helps you become a better shinobi and a better person in general.

For you, Neji has such a comforting aura. While he’s sometimes cold and stoic around others, with you, he softens up. With you, he’s gentle; careful even. And it’s because of this that you find yourself admiring him more and more.

But before anything could happen — before you could even confess — the Fourth Shinobi War was declared.

Just like that, time seemed to start running out. And you have lost all hopes of being together with Neji as a lover rather than a friend.

The war is awful. Quite frankly, it overwhelmed you too much, too easily. The bodies lying on the floor with dried out blood reminded you of the massacre of the Uchiha clan. But the only person who’s able to calm you down and help you move along is Neji.

The both of you fight side by side, always nearby Hinata in case she would need help. When the night comes and the enemies cease their attack, it’s your turn to talk Neji into relaxing a bit because he’s started straining his eyes from too much use. And because it’s you who asked and it’s you who’s there with him, he knows he and the rest of the Allied Forces are safe, so he rests.

But somehow chaos ensues and in the middle of it, you both get separated. You’re worried deeply, but you trust his skills and his strength, and you know you’ll be reuniting with him again.

And reunited with him you did. But when you have found him once again, he’s blocking out the Ten Tails’ attack with... his body.

With desperation, you transported to his side as quickly as you can. Summoning your last bits of chakra, you use Susanoo to protect him, Hinata, and Naruto. The last thing you remember is the look of relief on Neji’s face, but before it could morph into worry, you have already blacked out.

By the time you have woken up, you’re in Konoha’s hospital. The first thing you see is Neji resting his head on the side of your bed, peacefully sleeping, looking as angelic as ever.

Your body aches with every breath you take, even more so with little movement. But you didn’t let that deter you from weaving your fingers along the Hyuga’s hair. He stirs almost immediately and then he opens his pretty eyes. He sits up upon seeing you.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You softly ask.

He doesn’t respond to your question. “You’re awake,” he sighs in relief. “You’re finally awake. Let me go call Lady Tsunade and Sakura.” He stands up.

But before he can even take a step, you grab his wrist. “Stay,” you mumble.

Neji looks at you, reading your face. But then he nods and sits.

“Is it over?” You ask.

“Yes, the war’s over.”

“What happened after?”

“It’s a long story… but tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine. My body aches, but it’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?!” Neji looks upset that it takes you by surprise. “Do you remember what happened? Didn’t you know you almost died?! You almost used up all your chakra to use Susanoo! That’s so stupid and reckless!”

His aggressive tone effectively gets you angry. “I did it for you!” You snap. “Of course I remember what happened! Even if I want to forget, the memory is branded in my mind! You fucking wanted to use your body to shield Naruto from that attack, didn’t you? How is that not stupid and reckless? Huh?”

Neji’s chakra flares up as he clenches his jaw. Yet, he doesn’t speak.

You breathe out, trying to calm down. You rarely ever fought with Neji and he’s never really raised his voice to you. With your body still tired and aching from the war, you didn’t want this conversation to escalate further so you try to diffuse the situation before it blows even more out of proportion.

In a low voice, you speak, “I was so scared, Neji. I didn’t want to lose you. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved.”

A tear falls down from your eye and Neji’s heart breaks at your forlorn state. “I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t…” you squeak. “I love you so much, I can’t lose you.”

Neji’s breath hitches at your declaration. He could hear his heart drumming against his chest.

You love him?

He doesn’t know if he heard you right or if his mind is just playing tricks on him. It happened before. He’s loved you for so long… and there have been plenty of days he dreamt of hearing you say you love him too. And right now he isn’t sure if this is the reality or just another one of his dreams.

As if you’ve read his mind — like you always seem to be able to do — you repeat your words. “I love you, Neji.”

It’s the confirmation that he needs. And hearing your words knocked the wind out of him. “I… I…” he starts saying.

But you’ve taken his stuttering and his pale, panic-stricken face as a sign of an incoming rejection, so you look down instantly and say, “It’s fine if you don’t like me the same way. I just hope we can still be friends after—”

“No, I… I love you too,” he breathlessly confesses before you even finish your rambling.

Your head whips up after the words left his lips. You stare at him, unbelieving.

And just as you did a while ago, he repeats his words with conviction, “I love you too.”

A smile makes its way to your face, and when he smiles back, you immediately know this is a memory you won’t ever forget.

[heart-stomper]

Unspoken Trust, Unspoken Fears

Gathering my thoughts on Sasha and Marcy’s dynamic before S3 proves me wrong shows us what’s going on with these two.

It’s time to look at The Dinner and Battle of the Bands, and then use it as a guide to read the room in True Colors.

No worries! You just gotta speak their language. - Sasha, Reunion

Or in this case, know when to stay quiet. 

Sasha gets really really frustrated this episode. Like, so bad, that if that Volcakeno didn’t erupt, she might have been the one to end the friendship. Even Marcy and Grime couldn’t calm her down. But that’s the thing, before this point, they were the only ones to get through to Sasha without provoking her.

Grime keeps Sasha in line; she rolls her eyes and is clearly annoyed every time she has to hold herself back, but her willingness to keep it cool shows she ultimately agrees with Grime’s plan and sees it as the best path to success.  When Marcy chimes in, it’s with a helpful answer to Sasha’s question. She reminds Sasha of why they stopped Doing Thing by explaining how their plan failed. She avoids judging Sasha for it, and frames it as the repercussions of their actions, as a group. Marcy is on Sasha’s side, so Sasha doesn’t put up any defenses. When Sasha decides to avoid arguing with Anne however, it isn’t for Anne. It’s for the plan, for her and Grime.

Marcy has enough faith in Sasha to believe she’d never want to purposefully hurt Anne, but is careful about broaching the subject. Sasha feels attacked very easily, and will quickly trivialize or downplay things if she feels the other person is being unreasonable or doesn’t ‘get’ her.

And that is the only time Marcy speaks up besides The Big Argument. She only jumps into actual conflicts if things get too heated. Otherwise, she just lets Sasha do her thing, and lets Anne argue with Sasha... sort of.

This isn’t collaboration. It’s a hostile takeover. Why do things always have to be your way?

Now, for the bait and switch. Let’s talk about Marcy’s behavior in Day at the Aquarium and New Wartwood, and Sasha’s in Toadcatcher and Barrel’s Warhammer… while tying it all back to Battle of Bands!

You didn’t tell me you were writing a song! Let’s do it! I mean, if that’s okay with you, Sasha.

In A Day at the Aquarium, Marcy’s first instinct to Anne saying she’s going back with the Plantars is to make a plan. To show that it isn’t actually what will benefit Anne’s Goals. She doesn’t even consider opening up as an option, and avoids saying anything that could cause conflict. New Wartwood, Marcy tries to chat with the citizens of Wartwood and get to know them. But when that doesn’t work, she decides that impressing them with her knowledge and usefulness is bound to make them like her. It has to.

It does seem simpler.

Trying to win people over by claiming a plan is of mutual interest and necessary, carefully choosing which words to use, viewing relationships as a puzzle to be solved… this isn’t the sort of thing Marcy needs to do to get along with someone like Anne. It’s how Marcy copes with Sasha. Sasha lashes out and belittles bad ideas. Sasha has to be convinced the plan benefits her, suits her. Vulnerability and love aren’t enough to make her care, so Marcy does what she can to prove she’s worth being around. She might even sometimes wonder if Sasha actually likes her, or just likes what she can do for her. She rather not find out.

Whenever she’s afraid of people not liking her, or is worried that she’ll lose them, she dives right into those bad habits. She can give her opinions, but they aren’t supposed to get in the way of what Sasha wants. She’s supposed to say “That’s amazing! What do you think Sash’?” not “Let’s do it!”

Listen. There’s another reason why I’ve been training so hard. To protect the one person I know I can count on right now. You. You’re right, I already lost one friend. I’m not about to lose another. - Sasha, Toadcatcher

In Toadcatcher, there’s that scene, where Sasha looks at the BFF picture and the wind cuts off Anne for a second so it’s just her and Marcy. This is where Sasha is at. Anne might have rebelled, but when Sasha reunites with Marcy? Oh, she’ll show Anne, one way or another. They’ll get her back (like, joining the team or revenge wise, depending on Sasha’s mood.)

Listen here you buffoon! What’s it gonna take to prove that you should follow us? - Barrel’s Warhammer

Aaaand Sasha freaks out royally when she learns the two are alone together and doing just fine. On some level, she fears Anne and Marcy “getting along without her” because it means they might decide they don’t actually need her to make plans; that she isn’t necessary to have fun. In the The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers, we see that isn’t as big a catastrophe as Sasha seems to think it’d be. As time goes on, the girls do gain a healthier relationship to their feelings about Sasha, but that doesn’t mean they’d want her gone even if they don’t need her there. But Sasha doesn’t know that, she doesn’t even consider it till reuniting in The Third Temple. All she knows for now, is that she can be a bit... much... so if she isn’t in control, if her way isn’t “the best”, why would Marcy put up with her either? 

Listen. If things get too wild out here, just give me a signal and I’ll call the whole thing off. 

 For sure, teach it to us Anne. 

Every Sasha plan starts with an empty reassurance. So much of Sasha’s dialogue follows a pattern where she says stuff like “we’ll call it off” (she did not call it off) and “for sure, I don’t mind” (she did mind) that it could be it’s own game. Sasha talks the talk, until it gets in the way of what she wants.

Sorry guys, but we’re way to close to bail. I am not going back empty-handed.

It’s good. I just have a few tiny notes that I think could make it even better. ... Boom! Fiixed it! 

If they just follow her lead and let her fix it, everything will work out. They should believe in her and trust her. After all...

That’s not true! Besides, we did it. ... You’re not actually gonna throw this all away are you?

I just wanted all of us to succeed. I was just being a good friend. Why couldn’t they see that?

It all worked out, right? Percy and Braddock made it out okay even if she didn’t follow through on her promise. They won, she’s reliable. But of course, Sasha lost something more important than their belief in her abilities, she lost their trust. In Battle of the Bands however, Sasha recognizes that Anne and Marcy don’t want to follow her ambitions and will be pushed away by them just like Percy and Braddock were. So she takes it upon herself to end things, accepting that she’s lost.

Sorry it took so long.

Except this time, she manages to realize that maybe “what she wants” is to be there for her friends. Sasha’s finally had the space to relax and really think about what she wants, at least a little. This isn’t a real battle after all. Doing things her way all the time isn’t as important as she thought. Maybe she should trust in her friends more. A change of pace isn’t “wrong”, just different. It’s fun.

Sorry we lost, Sash’.

Just like Percy and Braddock, Marcy knows Sasha is capable. She understands that Sasha just wants the team to succeed. That’s why she apologizes when Grime beats them in the competition. She wants Sasha to know she appreciates what she did, but keeps it a bit indirect. She gets Sasha probably didn’t want to push them away. Marcy tried to catch herself and back Sasha up, but when Sasha had her argument with Anne, she stayed quiet. She couldn’t bring herself to go against Anne. 

That was ultimately for the best, as Sasha learned a valuable lesson. Except... She’s in too deep with the rebellion to back out now. This is the episode she’d spill the truth and give up on the whole thing, except... Grime. A part of her knows leaving would make Grime her enemy. She can’t risk that. So, she keeps going with the plan. She decides she’ll somehow win it all back. Because the thing she’s actually most afraid of, is losing another friend. 

Sorry things got a little crazy back there. You guys good? ... Sheesh, don’t be a sore loser. Look, I’m gonna stay here and get this toad regime off the ground, but I can totally send you two home if you want. Or, you can stick around and give me a hand! So what’d’ya say?

Sasha’s final offer; the last chance she’s giving the girls to stop acting weird and go back to being her obedient friends who do what she wants. Sasha lost at Toad Tower, but now she’s won. So Anne should go back to normal, she’s supposed to, like some unspoken “rule”.

And Marcy is supposed fall back in line too. The offer and apology are just as much a plea directed at her. Sasha’s trying to be generous, in her own awkward way. She has bit her tongue so far. She’s thrown a temper tantrum or two, but she hasn’t been this forward in asking Marcy for help till now. She wants Marcy to say that everything’s okay. Make it clear she doesn’t think she’s the bad guy, and that she forgives her and wants to be there for her. That they’re on the same page again. She wants Marcy to help make Anne look overly dramatic and silly for making such a big deal of all this. Sure, if Anne figures that out by herself, that’d be great, but if Marcy could just speak up.

But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

Marcy’s too busy worrying about Anne’s reaction. Knowing that she’ll be upset about this. She doesn’t dare side with Sasha, and is disappointed and betrayed that she actually did something like this. Marcy already has her own secret plans, so when she finally tries to calm things down, all she can give is a non-descript “we can still fix this”. And then, she’s once again shocked when she sees Sasha threaten Anne and the Plantars. Seeing Sasha act so willing to actually hurt people rather than just push them around... it finally hits her just how serious “tried to kill them” was. And of course, losing Anne or being sent home with her would completely mess up her own plans.

Sasha’s isn’t a vulnerable person. She’ll go on about loving her friends if it makes her look good, but she actively avoids doing anything that could be seen as “weak”. She wouldn’t dare ask Marcy to drop Anne and choose her. If Marcy isn’t speaking up, she can take the hint. She still isn’t on her side, and so she gets sent to the dungeon along with the rest of them.

Marcy accepts that Sasha has become an obstacle, but a part of her still hopes the three of them can work through all this. If they do things her way, nobody has to get hurt. She'll figure out a way hold everything together, fix everything, like always.

And then Andrias betrays her.

Yeah, what plan?

Sasha stops talking once she realizes what’s going on. Quietly fuming as Marcy explains herself. The music box, the suggestion to take it back to Andrias... that wasn’t Marcy being the sweet, supportive friend who Sasha thought she could always rely on, who believed in her... that was Marcy using her. It was never going to become their plan; Marcy never trusted her and was actively working against her. Sasha lost Anne, and she never had a chance at getting Marcy back, either. 

Sasha smacks Marcy away when she desperately tries to justify herself. She doesn’t want to hear it anymore. She’s furious that Marcy thinks they could be friends after something like this, after she’s manipulated them and claimed it was for their sakes. This whole time, her goal had been avoiding the move with her parents. And coming here has only torn them apart even worse.

Marcy reaches out to both girls. And when Sasha rejects her, she clings to Anne, hoping at least she’ll find it in her to forgive her. That she’ll understand she cares about them even if she messed up. Marcy knows they’d probably never pick her over their families or ambitions, so she told herself this place offered those things too. Made them all better people. But as she says her excuses out loud, she can’t find a single one that feels right. She was just afraid of losing them, and now, she’s managed to hurt them on top of that. 

But the thing is. After all that. Despite how betrayed and hurt and angry Sasha was, she looks like this:

Sasha realizes this must be exactly how Anne felt about her betrayal. It isn’t just an abstract “hurt” or “bad thing” anymore. She can also sympathize with how Marcy feels and why she did it, at least a little. She can’t imagine being able to forgive this, and yet... when she looks to Anne with that apologetic look, she isn’t just hoping Anne will forgive her. She’s also asking for permission to forgive Marcy. Pleading that they all still have a chance to move past this together.

[shihalyfie]

The Kaiser wasn’t very good at being a villain (and that’s the point, actually)

Ken’s journey of redemption is generally well-documented overall, and it was explicit enough in the series that there’s only so much you really need to explain it, but due to the blurred boundary of what was supernatural influence from the Dark Seed and what was Ken’s own emotional problems wreaking havoc, it’s somewhat more difficult to bridge that gap between the Kaiser and Ken, and how they can be the same person.

The easiest way to understand it comes from both directions. One is that Ken, even in his normal element, is much more assertive than he’s often given credit for -- it’s just that the Kaiser is a (fragile) manifestation of that very carefully cultivated to channel that in all of the wrong directions. The other has to do with the fact that the Kaiser is actually really terrible at being a villain, and the persona itself is very fragile and difficult for him to maintain.

Rewatching the first half of 02 shows multiple indications that, for all he seemed to be the stereotype “evil genius”, Ken was forcing himself into the mold. He was never cut out for it from day one. Even from the beginning, Ken’s actual nature as a lonely and inherently kind eleven-year-old child was tearing apart at the Kaiser persona, and the fateful episode 21 was not so much a single turning point for him as much as it was the last straw in a series of things tumbling down for him.

Before we continue: While all of the meta on this blog is only possible thanks to support and input from a handful of friends (whose names will not be disclosed on account of privacy requests), this one in particular arose from a long and extensive discussion with said friends that I am extremely grateful for. As always, I hope I was able to convey your points well.

Well, firstly, it’s important to understand that, much like nearly any other character in this series, Ken’s surface demeanor is a bit deceptive. The Crest of Kindness has the original Japanese name of yasashisa (優しさ), which has a secondary meaning of “gentleness” (lost in translation, but still apparent with the bubble metaphor in 02 episode 23). That also ties into the secondary meaning of “kind” -- it’s not just about being naturally “soft”, but actively choosing to be gentle with others even when you’re theoretically capable of not doing so. (For those of you who have seen Appmon, the entire point of that series was about what it means to consciously and deliberately choose to be kind, and, in fact, quite a few parallels could be made between Ken and Haru...)

The contrast between Daisuke and Ken goes far beyond just the surface. Daisuke’s surface demeanor is abrasive, but he’s not actually very good at being assertive until push comes to shove, and he otherwise tends to bend easily to others or get overwhelmed; in contrast, Ken has a more polite demeanor and for the most part seems non-confrontational, but has much stronger control of his emotions and is more easily able to be assertive than Daisuke is. (Of course, both of them share the common point of being like-minded when it’s something that really matters, but Ken is much better at imposing his will and getting what he wants done before Daisuke ever gets to that point, which is what fuels the whole punchline of Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol.)

So, the point is: Daisuke is kind out of instinct and just “naturally” being so, but Ken is kind because he consciously believes in treating others well and not causing conflict, and not causing pain to others.

That’s not to say that Ken’s behavior is out of suppression or anything! It’s not a case like Takeru, who’s trying to push complicated emotions down while pretending they’re not boiling under the surface, nor is he like Hikari, who’s compulsively pressing her emotions down out of a desire not to burden others. Rather, even as early as 02 episode 26, he’s very straightforward about what his issue is and what he thinks about it. Ken’s “shyness” during the latter half of 02 is largely due to shame and hesitation from not knowing the other 02 kids well, but as the series goes on and as we go into post-02 material, he indicates that he’s perfectly wiling to be vocal about what he thinks without necessarily fighting any compulsion to suppress it. For someone who claims he doesn’t know much about his own heart, he arguably seems to have the best grip on understanding himself compared to a lot of this cast!

So in essence, the main take-home here is that Ken is theoretically capable of being strong-willed and assertive, and is very good at choosing when he wants to be assertive and when he wants to hold back. And he likes seeing people get along, and he wants everyone to be happy, and he doesn’t like seeing people be hurt or hurting others, and under normal circumstances, Ken has very good control of his emotions for the most part and quite a lot of self-awareness. That’s why Ken is the one to get the unique designation of this Crest; everyone in this cast can be said to be generous and supportive of others in some form, but there’s a difference between being a “natural” doormat who defers to others by default (Daisuke being a very good indicator of how this kind of mentality has a flip side of lack of self-esteem and high insecurity, and Tamers’s Takato being a good indication of how “being deferential” doesn’t necessarily preclude you from having tendencies towards selfishness or cowardice), versus choosing to be kind by understanding everything and still being gentle out of a belief that it’s the right thing to do (again: see Shinkai Haru). And it’s why Wormmon says in the 02 episode 23 flashback that Ken’s kindness can be used against him; being “kind” in this way requires a lot of mental fortitude, strength, and guts, all of which are things that could easily be very bad things when applied in the wrong direction.

This means that all the Dark Seed really needed to do in order to turn him into the Kaiser...was make him lose grip on that self-control.

Actually, Ken says it himself in less-than-subtle words in Spring 2003:

…It was revenge. But who was this revenge against? Did I want to triumph over the ones who made fun of me? The ones who looked down on me and used me? But… In the end, it was revenge against myself. I couldn’t do anything but deny the kind of human being that I was.

So in other words, the Kaiser persona was, effectively, a self-loathing eleven-year-old boy throwing a massive tantrum. A lot of the Kaiser’s actions in the first half of 02 are honestly rather petty -- he’s basically upset at the kids spoiling his holiday in 02 episode 6, he attempts torturing Daisuke out of a petty grudge over a soccer sliding tackle in 02 episode 8, and everything to do with expanding his territory and eventually (hopefully?) becoming ruler of the Digital World is frankly very sloppy. For all he’s said to be a genius, his genius only seems to extend to book smarts, and his “tactical planning abilities” never really expand beyond that of a soccer field sort of affair; his way of locking down control on other things is basically just “brainwash it harder” or “whip it harder” and applying harder brute force instead of doing something in the long-term like, say, trying to rule with charisma and recruiting allies.

(Again, bringing Appmon back into this, seeing Cloud in action will give you a much better example of a charismatic human villain who’s actually competent at his job. Or, heck, you can even look back at Savers’s Kurata, who at least was savvy enough to pull strings with people in powerful positions. Or even the Kaiser’s predecessor Saiba Neo from V-Tamer, who may have been openly sadistic but still had the sense to align himself with background power. Really, compared to all of these folks, the Kaiser is downright pathetic.)

Remembering that Ken fell into the Kaiser persona partially as a desperate attempt to become a “perfect person” like Osamu, Ken “imitated” Osamu’s cruelty to him because he felt that was how he could improve himself to become a “strong” person better than him. But the irony here is that Osamu’s “cruelty” was something that he himself never liked, and mainly came from lashing out at Ken due to feeling like he had a lack of control over his own life. So Osamu was never happy in that position, and Ken, who is indirectly pointed out via the bubble metaphor to be even more fundamentally inclined towards gentleness, is probably even more miserable.

Because everything Ken does as the Kaiser is “unfocused lashing out at everyone”, the Kaiser has less control over his emotions than Ken normally would. Takeru manages to emotionally pin him to a corner by confronting him with enough assertion in 02 episode 19 (this is before he punches him), and correctly points out that the Kaiser isn’t capable of winning with words (i.e. ideologically) and resorts to violence as the first thing he can think of. You’d think that if the Kaiser were actually someone with the self-confidence to consider the other Chosen Children beneath him, he wouldn’t even bother giving them the time of day, but Takeru just happening to be a little assertive is enough to make him lose his composure and start falling apart, and a lot of his shaken “insects!” yelling comes from him seeming pretty desperate to cling onto that rather than being all that confident about his natural superiority over anyone. 02 episode 20 establishes that he’s getting himself in over his head by tampering with the powers of darkness he can’t control, and while, on a plot level, it means that he’s misjudged his own capabilities, on a metaphorical level, it corresponds to the fact that even Ken himself is incapable of getting himself out of the emotional abyss he’s in.

And on the flip side, one of the biggest “tells” that Ken is still miserable during all of this is 02 episode 9, where he’s seen ruminating on the “glory” he’s getting in the real world despite having just decided to leave it all behind. The episode prior, after all, had been called “The Digimon Kaiser’s Loneliness”. The media is using him like some kind of “hot topic”, his parents’ affection (in his mind) is shallow and based only on his achievements, and he has no friends (how much of a role Akiyama Ryou played in his childhood is unclear, but either way, he’s no longer around now). With no emotional support coming from any direction in the real world, he’s resorting to at least trying to have some “fun” in what he perceives to be a “game”, and yet he’s still not having fun at all.

If you look carefully at a lot of the Kaiser’s actions during the first half of the series, one thing you’ll notice is that there are multiple indications that he’s not quite up to par to being as sadistic as you’d think he’d be. Recalling that we learn in 02 episodes 20-21 that the Kaiser is under the impression that the Digital World is like a game that he can “reset” and the Digimon in it not real living beings, it has interesting implications of the fact that he’s actually very hesitant to physically harm other human beings -- he certainly likes emotionally toying with them, but even when he’s trying to take petty revenge on Daisuke in 02 episode 8, he goes out of his way to set up a trap with Bakemon to torture him rather than, well, actually using the kids as hostages. That’s a hell of a lot of work to do, but he instead uses this extremely roundabout way to get them out of the picture in a somewhat less harmful way, risking having them escape (which is exactly what happens).

And in 02 episode 19, when Takeru confronts him and he ends up whipping him, you can hear a slight “...gh?” in the Japanese audio for a split second right after that, meaning that the Kaiser is, for some reason, having a hard time dealing with the fact that he just hit Takeru, and he does a very poor job defending himself against Takeru punching him out despite ostensibly being trained in judo. (Seriously, if you watch the animation of the scene, he’s just lying there while Takeru repeatedly punches the hell out of him, because he’s so out of it.) Regarding the Digimon, he’s convinced himself that they’re not living beings, but regarding the human Chosen Children, who undeniably are, no matter how much he might look down on them, he has a suspiciously hard time harming them as much as he could...

On top of that, one interesting question that might come up to one rewatching the first half of 02 is the strange “contradiction” of why the Kaiser ostensibly seems to hate Wormmon so much, calling him an unworthy idea of a partner in 02 episodes 10 and 19, and yet does remarkably little to get Wormmon away from him or off his case (he hates Wormmon calling him “Ken-chan”, yet doesn’t really try very hard to stop him). He could have easily locked Wormmon away in a cage or something if he really wanted to -- actually, there’s the question, why doesn’t he slap an Evil Ring on him? Because in the end, Wormmon is the only emotional support he’s really getting, and so it’s likely he unconsciously doesn’t want to lose that. Recalling that Digimon are fundamentally linked to the inner self, the Kaiser rejecting Wormmon for being “weak” is analogous to Ken rejecting his own self for being “weak” and “not perfect” -- which means that the fact he still keeps Wormmon around is analogous to the fact that Ken hasn’t really been able to bring himself to completely let his fundamental nature go. And, hence, it’s why he gets so initially incensed at Wormmon’s “betrayal” at 02 episode 10 (and yet still keeps him around despite that), and is ultimately emotionally destroyed by his death in 02 episode 21.

Although, actually, if you look carefully at 02 episode 21, it’s not quite Wormmon’s death that necessarily does it -- the turning point where he sheds the Kaiser persona is right before that (and in case you have any doubts, the animation puts highlights in his eyes for the first time in the series right at that point). Wormmon’s death is the first major consequence of his actions that he has to deal with, but what actually brought Ken back to his senses was his own realization that Digimon are living beings, that his actions have had permanent effects this whole time, and that he can’t take back anything he’d done.

Remember that 02 is a series that is largely about moving on and accepting that you can’t change the past, and that you have to move forward regardless of that. Ken’s fall into sadism was only possible by driving him into extremely deep-seated denial -- he was already starting to face the potential reality of Digimon being real, existing beings in the real world an episode prior. He says, outright, in 02 episode 21, that part of the reason he came to the Digital World to do all of this was escapism -- and, presumably, under the idea that any mistake he made could be rolled back and redone, unlike Osamu’s death. But the Digital World is not a place you can reset like a game, Ken will have to live with the consequences of his actions again, and moreover, every single one of the actions he’d been convincing himself were relatively meaningless had caused severe and permanent harm, and the entire thing overwhelms him.

It’s also important to point out that this was probably where the Dark Seed had to work a lot of magic to get Ken to embrace this kind of denial so easily -- after all, it’s established in the final quarter of the series that it does have a tangible impact on personality and puts a damper on one’s ability to feel empathy. In the flashback in 02 episode 23, regardless of whether Ken considered the Digital World to be a “game” or “able to be reversed” or not, he clearly still didn’t care and treated those around him with proper kindness (even if he did consider it to be all of that, it probably wouldn’t have been entirely unlike how a lot of us have a hard time picking rude choices in video games). It’s a very complicated chain reaction of events that allowed this to be even possible, and it was so against his fundamental nature that once the denial broke and Ken reached his limit, he wasn’t able to do it anymore. The Chosen Children’s main role in 02 episode 21 was really just cleaning up the massive mess he’d made in the form of Chimeramon, but as far as the whole thing about the Kaiser’s persona completely falling apart and Ken being forced to confront his own self goes, that was pretty much all Ken and Wormmon, in a series of dominoes that had already been collapsing for episodes on end.

The following episodes have Ken treat the 02 team with a certain amount of detachment, and this is often construed by a handful of people as being reflective of Ken being standoffish of some sort. The fact that Daisuke and Ken are often promoted in franchise materials as “rivals” mainly due to them being in the “protagonist and right-hand-man” position such characters are in might tempt you to think that way, but they are most definitely not!! (Considering that even saying that Taichi and Yamato fit that mold is a bit questionable, and neither Ruki nor Jian quite fulfill the expectations of the role in regards to the genre-subverting Tamers, Frontier, which is explicitly said to be deliberately written to be conventional, is probably the first proper execution of this trope in the form of Takuya and Kouji.) Ken’s detachment from the group at this time in the series is something he actually gives the reason for quite directly: he believes it’s his fault and doesn’t want to burden them with what he considers to be his job, and in the end Daisuke ultimately breaks through to him and they become completely normal friends who get along. “Rival” what?

Ken is, at worst, distant during this point of the series, but he’s actually very straightforward about what he wants and intends to do; it’s just that he’s being a bit blunt about it because he’s still drowning in his shame and not sure how to approach them. (Also, consider the fact he was rather lacking in friends or a support group before all of this; he doesn’t have a lot of experience in socializing, either.) So he keeps everyone at arm’s length, and the reason he comes off as so standoffish is because he’s so assertive! He directly and bluntly makes some very strong remarks about how he believes everyone else shouldn’t be getting involved! Again, when left to his own devices and not being manipulated into by a supernatural evil seed into multiple levels of denial, Ken is very in control of what he wants and thinks, and is even very open about speaking his mind.

That’s even when they’re not good decisions, mind you. Ken starts off the climax of 02 episode 26 being very firm about wanting to suicidally throw himself into the reactor in order to stop it, and 02 episode 30 has him consider himself a burden to the team after the fallout with Iori and try to stay out of it despite them very badly needing his presence, which Daisuke (of all people!) rightfully calls him out for being childish about. But he also listens to reason very quickly and acknowledges the others’ point very easily, with Daisuke reminding him in 02 episode 26 that his suicidal recklessness is actually pretty self-centered and short-sighted of him, since it’ll prevent him from doing anything else to take responsibility for his actions going forward, and Miyako, uh, slapping him in 02 episode 30. (But he comes quietly right away as if acknowledging his own idiocy, and never holds it against her thereafter.)

Nevertheless, the point is: you can see that this kind of assertiveness is the same kind of assertiveness he had as the Kaiser, just channeled in a different direction and for a different purpose. But as the Kaiser, he was angrily lashing out at anything and everything and stepping on anything he could just so he could have a show of power; once he comes back to his senses, he reserves that force for it being something he consciously believes is the right thing to do (regardless of whether it’s actually the right thing to do or not).

Because of the fact Ken spends a lot of the last quarter of 02 suffering and parsing a lot of trauma, a lot of people have tended to pin him as constantly sad and being a soft crybaby, but that couldn’t be further from the truth! Despite all the emotional pain he goes through, Ken has a hell of a ton of strength through all of this -- he even flings a well-aimed quip at Oikawa in 02 episode 44 despite being in a completely helpless situation, and in 02 episode 45 he himself is the one who volunteers to open the gate to the Dark Ocean, despite knowing exactly what it entails. That takes a lot of guts, and all things considered, his recovery from being the Kaiser spans only four months and is altogether incredibly fast given what he went through -- it did not take long for him to regain his bearings and get himself back on track. Again, it’s the same kind of “assertiveness” and capacity for action that fuels what the Kaiser did, just better controlled and in a direction Ken knows he actually wants.

This is also why I tend to object to insinuations that Ken would be overly touchy about or traumatized by the mere discussion of him being the Kaiser in the aftermath of 02, because the series itself, multiple times, portrayed him as being very able to talk about his experiences bluntly and honestly, at worst maybe considering it a bit of an awkward topic. He has no problems admitting that it was a thing that happened, especially if it involves discussing it as part of taking responsibility or preventing further damage -- it’s just that he of course doesn’t enjoy it either, and is equally as open about the shame he feels as a result. All of the times Ken loses his composure in the latter half of 02 involve either physical pain being inflicted on him, or a lot more actively vicious invocation of his memories and insecurities, and even then he gets himself back on his feet with a rather prompt amount of speed. Poorly timed of a statement as it may have been, Miyako is not incorrect when she says in 02 episode 31 that he has a certain amount of natural resilience that he carried from being the Kaiser.

All the way back in 02 episode 9, shortly after it was revealed to the group that Ken was the Kaiser, Iori, Hikari, and Takeru all label Ken as someone who doesn’t look like someone who could do something so horrible, and Hikari even says that his smile looks “gentle” (note that this is yasashisou, a word derived from the same root word used for his Crest). So in other words, even all three of them were able to catch on to his actual nature betraying himself even during that awful period of time. It’s still poking through, all things considered.

But we as the audience know he’s putting on that face for the camera, and his eyes are still as dead-eyed as they are for the first half of the series, and when Miyako accidentally makes him laugh during the Christmas party in 02 episode 38, it’s very much framed as probably the first time Ken has been this genuinely happy in a long while. He was never able to be this happy even when “satisfying” himself by stepping on others as the Kaiser.

And that’s why it’s so extremely unlikely that Ken will ever be able to lapse back into the Kaiser persona after the events of 02, even with the Dark Seed technically still inside his neck. He wasn’t enjoying it anyway; the Kaiser persona wasn’t a habit that he fell into out of emotional suppression or even catharsis, but rather him forcing himself into a role he was never comfortable in to begin with. He was never truly satisfied with anything he was getting out of it, and moreover, it took the combination of supernatural influence and a hell of a lot of denial to allow it to get that far in the first place, because of how far against his fundamental nature that was.  (Again, for those of you who have seen Appmon: think about what it would take to get Haru to embrace sadism.) Even Osamu wasn’t enjoying being cold; being kind and living your life with positivity is a lot more fulfilling and fun, anyway.

In 02 episode 48, Ken describes the influence of the Seed as “horrible” in retrospect; even if it didn’t involve physical pain and exhaustion the way it did for the Dark Seed children, the entire experience sucked even back then. And while Ken theorizes about the Dark Seed’s influence being countered by the power of love earlier in the episode, when you look at the whole of 02, it’s not just his family’s love -- Ken now has the emotional support of his family, and Wormmon, and his newfound friends, and that’s giving him all of the fulfillment he wanted that putting on a front of sadism wasn’t giving him, and he doesn’t really need anything else anymore.

02 itself is very much about the fact that it’s not a bad thing to rely on the support of others to be happy; the Ken and Kaiser are undoubtedly the same person, but the latter’s existence requires a very specific lineup of events and factors to happen, and one of the massive parts behind that was a severe lack of emotional support or anyone who properly understood him. And by the end of the series, Ken has more than enough strength of heart to accept everything that’s happened and move on, and to stop reaching out to denial and clinging onto the past, and he has emotional support and understanding from a whole new group of friends that thoroughly understand everything he did and went through, and wholeheartedly accept and love him anyway.

He is never going to have a gaping hole in his life like that again.

[renjuseyo]

can i pls request Lucas x male reader where Lucas is the popular kid and reader is really quiet, but lucas likes reader because of readers personality(not like other guys/girls who tries their best to let them get noticed by lucas) and Lucas always tease and talk to reader because of that. maybe add a scenario where reader gets bullied on why he's dating Lucas and Lucas comes in and comforts reader. Thats all thank you!💖

up to you ; lucas

group: nct / wayv

pairing: wong yukhei / reader (male)

synopsis: yukhei is your school’s most popular heartthrob, and you’re the quiet wallflower. can things be any more obvious?

genre: fluff

warning: bullying

i hope this satisfies you anon! personally i lost inspo so it’s not that good... i apologize :,) also i just realized how long my fics are, so oops? as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

you’re in the library shelving piles of books into their respective slots, gently humming to yourself as you drum your fingers on the spine of a book. the library is silent for the most part, save for the low buzz of the fan by the entryway and your soft humming. it’s quiet and cozy, just how you like it.

the quiet ambience is slightly ruined by the loud rattling from the left. it startles you, but luckily you remain your balance and don’t plummet to your demise. when you look towards the source of the noise, you see yukhei standing by the bottom of the ladder, flashing you his signature rectangular grin. “hi (name)!” he chirps, waving at you. a warmth blossoms within you, but the chorus of agitated shushes distracts you. he cowers within himself, sending other students an apologetic look. “sorry,” he whispers.

“i didn’t expect to see you here,” you reply, turning your attention back to the books in your arms. there’s no malicious intent behind your words, because you genuinely would’ve thought he would spend his free period playing basketball with his friends, not in the library.

but he gasps with loud, feigned hurt. “i’m offended! just because i prefer sports over school doesn’t mean i won’t come in and pick up a book every now and then!” another round of shushes ripples throughout the room, though this time they’re paired with irritated glares. you’re among one of them.

“please be quiet, we’re in a library,” you remind him, stepping down a few rungs. he sends you an apologetic look, one that reminds you of a kicked puppy. “if you’re looking to borrow textbooks, the librarian’s up front. if not, you’re welcome to browse through.”

“nah, i already got all of my textbooks. i just came in to see you~” he winks, which you respond with by rolling your eyes. you promptly ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “oh come on, don’t be so mean. why don’t you ever react?”

“why should i? all you ever do is tease me,” you deadpan. you finish categorizing the last book and begin climbing down the ladder to grab a new pile. yukhei seems to notice this, eagerly scooping up a pile to hand to you. it doesn’t quite work out though, because his massive hands accidentally push them to the floor, and he winces, knowing what to expect. along with other disturbed patrons, you glare at him. you bend down to pick up the books, sighing. “you know, you’re lucky i haven’t kicked you out yet.”

“sorry,” he apologizes, sending you a sheepish smile. “sometimes i have no control over this massively tall body. i guess being short like you would be better, huh?”

for your age, you stand at a relatively average height. but yukhei is a little taller than most, standing at six feet. it really isn’t that big of a difference, but he still teases you for it all of the time.

you’re about to retort when you see two figures lurking by the other side of the shelf. you sigh, already knowing what to expect. something like this happens nearly every two days. “two of your so-called fans at nine o’clock.”

yukhei turns to face that direction and the two figures jump in surprise, confirming your suspicions. you see two girls step out from behind the shelf, timidly staring at you two. you recognize one of them, yujin, from your history class. “hi lucas,” the girl greets. it’s the nickname he goes by, the one that everyone is familiar with. you’re one of the few people that uses his real name, though.

you don’t even blink at the lack of acknowledgement. you’ve never really talked to yujin, save for the time she shared her notes with you. a real life saver. “oh hey yujin! is there something you need?” he asks. she looks pleasantly surprised that he remembers her.

you see the girl beside yujin, probably her wing woman, ushering her to hand him what appears to be a letter. not wanting to disturb the love confession that’s to come, you quietly grab the cart of books and roll it away from them. no one seems to notice though; the perks of being a wallflower.

five minutes later, you’re standing behind the counter of the check-out area, helping a few students check out textbooks. “is that everything you need?” you ask, not looking up from the computer screen.

“no, but i’d love to check you out.” you turn your head at the familiar voice and snort upon seeing yukhei.

“that was bad, even for you.”

“the only way you’d notice me,” he shrugs. you notice that he isn’t holding anything in his hands, and from the corner of your eyes you can see yujin and her friend walking towards the exit. judging from the way her friend rubs her shoulders, you can only guess that she’s been rejected like the others.

“you turned her down?” you ask.

yukhei sighs. for someone who receives several confessions, he never looks less guilty when rejecting them. “yujin is really sweet and smart, but i’m only interested in her as a friend. plus, between you and me?” he leans in as if telling you a secret. “i’m pretty sure her friend somi has a thing for her.”

you shake your head in sympathy. poor girl, having to be a wing woman for the girl you like. “well, that sucks.”

he frowns at your curt response, resting his arms on the counter. “you know, we haven’t been friends for very long, yet you never question why i reject everyone.”

you shrug, walking towards the storage room. “you’re just waiting for the right person, because contrary to popular belief, wong yukhei isn’t a heart breaker.”

yukhei can only forlornly watch as you head to the back. “i’ve found the right person, they just haven’t noticed yet,” he mutters.

if you’re being honest, you don’t quite remember how yukhei entered your life. after all, he’s way ahead in the social spectrum, surrounded by swarms of friends like some enforcer of happiness. on the other hand, you’re on the complete opposite side of that spectrum. you’re the quiet guy who minds your own business, so you don’t have many friends like he does, save for the few close ones you’ve made prior to high school. but one day, like the friendly giant he is, he magically appears by your side, and now his presence fills each of your days.

save for the times he teases you about your height and your personality, yukhei isn’t as bad as kids like you describe. sure, he’s loud and outspoken, every introvert’s nightmare, but he isn’t a jerk or a heart breaker like they whisper about. he’s quite the opposite, actually, his personality similar to a golden retriever. the way others perceive him never gets less funny for you. you’ve personally seen him get his nose stuck in a coat hanger before; how in the world does a klutz like him scream heart breaker material?

you’ve only known him for half a year, yet you feel like you’ve known him since childhood. he’s never quiet about his life, and he always seems genuinely interested in you. naturally, like the fool you are, you found yourself inevitably falling for him. it’s not like things will go your way - yukhei is at the center of the school’s attention, meaning he’s surrounded by plenty of suitors. it’s so cliche you’d laugh - the quiet guy pining over the school’s heart throb - but truthfully, you’d rather watch him excitedly talk about his interests or do anything that elicits a smile from him. you’ll have plenty of time to laugh later, anyways.

when you enter the cafeteria, you scan the cliques assembled at each table, looking for your own little group made up of you, mark, renjun, and donghyuck. it’s a mix of different personalities with even more different interests, but sharing the cast roles of trees in the third grade goes a long way.

your sight is quickly obscured by two massive hands, and you sigh, recognizing the cold feeling of a ring against your face. “guess who?” a voice above you sings.

“what are you doing here?” you ask. you quickly regain your sight as the hands slink away, and you turn around to face a smiling yukhei.

“here to grab food just like everyone else,” he answers, ruffling your hair. he laughs when he sees you try to remove his hand from your hair, yours impossibly small compared to his. “is this bothering you, tiny terror?” he teases.

“seriously?”

“sorry, did you say something? you’re a little too quiet.”

to a bystander, it would look like yukhei, the tall, popular kid, was bullying you, the average quiet wallflower. but your friendship all began with this “teasing”, so you don’t really mind anymore.

before you can say anything, you hear a crowd of guys headed your way. you take that as your cue to leave, removing his hand from your hair. luckily, you finally see your friends at a table at the other side of the room. “i’m going to go now. bye,” you say. before you get a response, you slink away from him.

as you slide in a seat beside mark, you catch renjun and donghyuck eyeing you with interest. you’ve known them long enough to know that look means trouble - specifically from renjun and donghyuck. mark is never a part of their schemes, wanting nothing more than a peaceful day. “can i help you?” you ask, leaning down to steal a fry from mark, who shrieks in protest.

"so, you and yukhei?” renjun gives you a knowing look, while mark gives you an apologetic one. you feel like you’ve just jumped straight into a trap.

“we’re friends. what about it?” you ask, taking more of mark’s food. at this point, he’s given up on fending it from your hands.

“he’s in denial,” donghyuck whispers, though you hear it loud and clear. “dude, he gives you heart eyes when you do so much as breathe. how does it feel, having a heart throb like him wrapped around your finger?”

the thought is baffling; you, having yukhei wrapped around your finger? “no comment because i don’t.” renjun and donghyuck boo at your comment. “enough with that nonsense already. we’re just friends. plus, i’m not going to swoon over him-”

“-like everyone else in the building?” mark finishes, pointing his head forward. you look up, and unsurprisingly, a swarm of people surround yukhei, and he’s eagerly chatting with them, probably thriving from the attention. you swear you see a glimpse of yet another letter from a guy you recognize from your biology class, but with so many people it’s hard to tell.

“you know, i don’t understand how people perceive him as a heart breaker. he’s like a clumsy puppy with too much energy for his own good,” you comment, munching on a fry.

“maybe because you’re one of the few people who actually know him well enough to determine that?” mark suggests. “he gets along with everyone, but he tails you like a puppy all of the time. it’s no wonder you know him well.”

you shrug. “maybe if he teased other people all the time, they’d probably get to know him better, too. apparently that’s how people befriend others these days.”

they all exchange a knowing look before staring at you. “riiight. because he teases everyone he wants to befriend. not because, you know, he’s interested in them,” renjun remarks.

you stare at yukhei for a little longer until he looks up and sees you. he frantically waves with a large grin, and you can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips as you wave back. when your hand falls and you go back to eating mark’s food, you shrug. “right.”

something you find odd about your schedule is how you have pe right after lunch. do teachers seriously think it’s a good idea to have students running laps right after eating? that only calls for disaster. it’s something you complain about every now and then to donghyuck, seeing how he’s the only person you can talk to.

“i heard we’re doing the mile run today,” donghyuck shares.

you groan, walking beside him. “i don’t care how many times we do it. i will never not complain about it. what makes him think running’s fun?”

“i don’t know, i think running’s pretty great,” a voice chimes. you don’t need to turn around to guess who it is, but you do anyways. unsurprisingly, yukhei’s right beside you, grinning his signature smile.

“easy for you to say. you’re built like a greek god and you have abnormally long legs. you’re like... a spider.”

yukhei chooses to ignore your comparison about the spider, instead beaming. “you think i’m built like a greek god?”

what a way to feed into his ego. “i take it back.”

he visibly deflates, pouting. “what! you can’t take it back, (name)! don’t hurt me like that!”

you’re about to retort back when donghyuck taps your shoulder. “lucas, (name), hi. i’d hate to bother your flirting session, so i’m going to bother yangyang now.”

“we’re not-” the words are barely out of your mouth before he slinks away from you two, but not before throwing up finger guns at you. you’re left alone with yukhei, who shoots you a cheeky wink.

the five minutes it takes for you to walk to the track field quickly goes by, having spent it conversing with yukhei. your teacher tasks everyone to partner up for the mile run, and your instincts are telling you to go to donghyuck, who’s been your partner each time. but then you see him approach yangyang with an intention in his eyes and you decide to go against it. the only other friend you have in this class would be...

you turn around to look for yukhei, but he’s no longer by your side, instead being encompassed by several guys. he doesn’t quite meet their gaze though, eyes flickering to you. he’s obviously occupied. to your dismay, there are no other options left, and you’d rather die than talk to other people.

someone taps your shoulder and you jump so high that even the perpetrator seems startled. you fearfully stiffen, contemplating the dozen methods of running away, but when you turn around, you visibly relax. it’s hendery, one of your classmates. you don’t know him too well, but you share most of your classes together. “hey (name), you still looking for a partner?” he asks.

“yeah, i am. are you?" of course he’s looking for a partner. why else would he approach you? great. now he’s going to think you’re weird, and then you’re not going to have a-

“perfect, so am i! do you want to run first, or should i?” he flashes you a smile that eases your nerves, and the butterflies in your stomach still.

“i don’t have a preference.”

“okay, then i’ll go first. be sure to keep a good eye on me, okay?” he sends you a flirty wink, and you’re taken aback by the sudden motion, lightly blushing. he seems to notice this, too, grinning at your silence. “i’ve been told i’m a good runner. i hope i impress you~”

your mind is running faster than your body could ever, still trying to process hendery’s boldness. “oh. well, i bet you’re far better than me. i’m not a good runner,” you awkwardly laugh.

it’s only been a few minutes, but you find yourself pleasantly surprised to become acquainted with hendery, though it’s mainly hendery doing the talking since you’re not quite out of your shell yet. in the five minutes you’ve known him, you learn that he’s the captain of the track team and strangely enough, really likes hot dogs. you go through the five stages of regret upon learning this, because your running won’t even begin to compare to his. but he gently assures you it isn’t a big deal, even patting your shoulder.

you decide that hendery’s ability to put people at ease is incredible, because you’re too absorbed with his presence to notice the look yukhei sends from afar.

after that, you and hendery quickly befriended each other. your relationship kind of reminds you of your’s with yukhei because of how different you are, but unlike him, he doesn’t tease you all of the time. you’re not sure how to feel when you find yourself missing it.

on the bright side, he’s a great friend to hang out with when others are busy. renjun and donghyuck have volleyball practice? you go to the arcade with hendery. mark has speech and debate? you get tacos with hendery. yukhei is busy... being the social butterfly he is? you go over to hendery’s house. your increase in hangouts has definitely made your friends suspicious, with donghyuck going as far as accusing you of cheating on yukhei, whatever that means. it’s not like you two are dating, anyways.

(the thought reminds you just how impossible the concept is, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t bothered by it.)

your third period is when you act as mrs. choi’s library assistant. you’re sitting by the counter, flipping through the latest issue of haikyu!! when you hear footsteps approach you. having to act like the responsible assistant, you quickly tuck the book away, but not fast enough judging from hendery’s smirk. “so mr. studious isn’t quite so studious, is he?” he asks.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug. “anyways, what are you doing here? do you have a free period like-” you quickly stop in your tracks. the name stands at the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, a part of you tells you not to say it.

thankfully he doesn’t question your abrupt pause. “no, i have math. pauses for boos,” he sighs. “anyways, can you check this out for me?” he slides a thick textbook your direction.

“sure. student id?” you go through the procedure of checking out his book, which doesn’t take long. “okay, you’re good to go.”

he doesn’t immediately leave though, eyes never leaving your frame. “(name)?”

you pull out your book, flipping back to the page you were on. “yeah?” there’s a pause, which is unlike hendery. from what you know, he’s confident and doesn’t take breaks, which makes you look up from your book. he looks almost... nervous? “are you okay?”

he pauses to take a deep breath, and you’re suddenly embracing for something serious. “would you go on a d-”

“hey (name), hendery! what a coincidence seeing you here!”

you look behind hendery and is surprised to see yukhei approach you with a strained smile. you’ve been hanging out with hendery so much that you haven’t seen yukhei in a while, aside from your shared classes.

at this point, the other patrons in the library have already gotten used to his loud voice, and seeing how you never once kicked him out, they stopped shushing him altogether. “it isn’t a coincidence, yukhei. you know i’m here during third period.” you squint at his appearance. he looks stiff, sweaty even. “are you okay?”

hendery looks like he knows something you don’t, glaring at yukhei. “we’re in a library, or have you forgotten?” there’s an obvious bite in his words, one that shocks you. you had no idea they didn’t like each other, but seeing their mutual glares, it’s kind of obvious now.

“sorry, i had to get my point across,” yukhei responds. he turns to face you, and his smile quickly fades into one of genuine. “hey (name), can i talk to you about something?” he turns to give hendery the stink eye. “in private?”

“he can’t abandon his responsibility as mrs. choi’s assistant, much less for you,” hendery snaps.

okay, you’re really missing something big here. in an attempt to clear the tense atmosphere, you clear your throat. “can it wait...” you glance at the clock. “five minutes? mrs. choi should be back then.”

yukhei nods, giving hendery a triumphant smirk. “of course.”

five minutes later, mrs. choi comes back, allowing you to slink into the empty hallway with yukhei. “before you tell me what you need to tell me- what the hell was that?”

he gives you an oblivious look. “what was what?”

“the tension between you and hendery!” you exclaim. “you two looked like you were going to shoot each other had i not been there.”

he looks genuinely surprised that you noticed. what does he take you for, a dunce? “oh, that? we’ve never really gotten along... but recently, we found out we both like the same person, so that kind of worsened things.”

you nod, though the thought of yukhei finding his right person surprises you, and a small part feels a little disappointed. rightfully so, because not only is it not you, but because he didn’t bother telling you! “you finally found the right person for you?”

“for a while now, actually,” he corrects. now you’re even more surprised; yukhei found someone he liked and hadn’t once told you? the betrayal! “i just haven’t been able to tell them.”

“well, who is it?” you sigh, shaking your head. “you had all of these chances to tell me, and you didn’t even try? i’m disappointed.” technically he would be saving you from heartbreak by not telling you, but that’s beside the point.

“well, that would ruin the surprise then. i was planning on confessing,” he explains, giving you a cheeky smile.

this is fine, this is fine... except it’s not, you mentally narrate. you’re already flashing him a strained smile. “when?” you ask.

yukhei’s smile never once fades, and you’re tempted to wipe it off his face. “right now.” he sweeps his arm in a flourish. “i like you, (name) (last name).”

a pause. you’re frozen in your spot, replaying his words in your head.

i like you, (name) (last name).

this must be some sort of fever dream. or an elaborate prank; you frantically look around for someone to jump out in front of you, camera in hand. but to your shock, you’re still wearing clothes, and no one jumps out. “did i hear that right?” you gawk.

yukhei’s still grinning; your shocked look seems to satisfy him. “i like you. you’re the person i was talking about.”

you’ve been duped - bamboozled! “am i dreaming?”

he laughs, ruffling your hair. “this is very much real, cutie. do you want me to kiss you to prove it?” you visibly flush, hiding your face behind your hands. he’s always teased you, but this it the first time he’s really flirted like this. has he been holding back on your account? he peels your hands off your face, cooing at how red you are. “may i ask for your answer?”

your face is still warm, eyes refusing to meet his. he’s holding your hands, and it feels like he’s holding your heart in them, too. “why?” you’re not asking this because of your insecurities, but because you’re genuinely curious. if he’s shown signs that he likes you, he’s done a great job at making it subtle. 

(yukhei’s definitely not subtle though, which means you probably didn’t notice because you’re just that dense.)

“i like your personality,” he begins. “you’re a breath of fresh air among the familiar, the quiet in my loud. i think we fit really well. plus, teasing you is a bonus, seeing you get all bothered.” he caresses your hands, and you’re suddenly keenly aware of where you two are. “you know, i would’ve made things more extravagant, but hendery was going to sweep you off your feet, so i had to make things quick.”

wait, hendery likes you too? then at the library... this feels like a wattpad fanfic. but instead of pondering on that, you roll your eyes. “even if he said anything, i wouldn’t have accepted.”

his face contorts to one of surprise, but it takes him a few seconds to understand the implications behind your comment. “does that mean you like me, too?” he hums, eyes twinkling in delight.

you hate feeding into his ego, but you decide right now is an exception. “maybe.”

you immediately regret it though, seeing him grin like the cheshire cat. you’re never going to hear the end of it now. “i even managed to woo you with my charms, huh?”

“shut up.”

“with your lips? because i’d love that.” he leans down, batting his eyelashes, and you’re heating up all over again. at first, you take it as another one of his flirty remarks, but the look he gives you is a silent question of consent. it reminds you of how no matter how much he teases you, he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable, never do anything without permission.

there are several thoughts swirling in your head and many things you need to discuss with yukhei. how will the general public react learning about this? will you be harassed by his hoard of fans? will things even work? but instead, you grab his hand and begin walking to a secluded part of the wing. ignoring the what-if’s is very unlike you, but you have more important matters to tend to. “we have to talk about this later.”

yukhei can only hum in agreement as your breath fans over his lips.

as mentioned earlier, yukhei isn’t subtle at all, so it’s no surprise that soon the whole school finds out about your relationship. you can’t be mad at him though, because he really did try. but then he accidentally let it slip during basketball practice, bragging about how you were an amazing kisser. you can’t really be mad at his comment, anyways.

to your dismay, your popularity has soared being yukhei’s boyfriend. you much prefer the times when people had to ask for your name again, because now they all label you as lucas’s boyfriend. like, you have a name. plus, high school students are incredibly nosy. but people are nice, for the most part.

needless to say, your friends had a field day with you upon hearing the news. apparently renjun and donghyuck had made bets on you, to which the former had triumphed. mark simply congratulated you as he struggled to stop the two from fighting each other.

to your surprise, hendery had approached you and congratulated you two on the manner. he ruffled your hair and told you that he’s always available if you ever choose to drop yukhei, to which the latter responded by lunging at him. you didn’t have time to question hendery about the events in the library from the past week, having to stop your boyfriend from fighting him.

your days at school have certainly become livelier. for starters, yukhei has become much more open about expressing affection, though the displays in public are nothing compared to in private. his friends were also quick to introduce themselves to you, even going as far as stealing you from him. you’re pretty sure you’ve become an honorary member of the basketball team now. things have seemed to calm down now, though your friends still tease your relationship every now and then. you try to go by your day with minimal interaction as usual, save for yukhei and your friends.

today was supposed to be your free day, but mrs. choi had called you asking if you could finish up things in the library, having to leave early for a doctor’s appointment. like the kind assistant you were, you had accepted with no hesitation, finishing up her tasks. however, you did feel like you were forgetting something important.

you’ve just finished shelving the final textbook when you hear footsteps approach you. you turn your head, expecting to see the janitor, but you’re startled to come face-to-face with a guy. judging from the threatening look on his face, you can tell you’re in for an unpleasant conversation. and if that’s the case, it’s probably because of yukhei.

with his popularity and your relationship, it isn’t surprising that there were a few that weren’t too happy to see you together. he isn’t some object that wannabe teenagers have ownership over. however, many are yet to grasp that concept. “how can i help you?” you politely ask.

you barely have any time to blink before you’re being pushed against the bookshelf, trapped in between his arms. this feels like a showdown between the love interest and the wannabe, the latter fighting for the affections of the male lead. “listen up, (last name),” the guy snarls. “you better stay away from lucas. you don’t deserve him.”

under normal circumstances, you would be terrified. but apparently you have a death wish, saying, “and you do?”

you close your eyes, bracing for a fist to your face, but surprisingly, it never comes. you squeak an eye open to see him looking down at you with a smirk. “whatever he sees in you, it won’t be there long. did he ever tell you how much he hates boring people?”

usually jerks like him don’t bother you, but... boring? you may be quiet, but you don’t think you’re that boring... right? the stranger releases his hold on you. before he can say any more, the library doors swing open, and like some knight in shining armor, there stands yukhei who looks out of breath. “(name)? hyunjung?”

you two are lucky he didn’t see your position earlier, otherwise it would beg for some unpleasant questions. “hi lucas,” hyunjung politely greets, doing a quick bow. a complete 180 from his personality from earlier. “i was just leaving.”

yukhei nods as hyunjung walks away from you two. he approaches you, pouting. “i was looking all over for you! did you forget about our date today?”

oh, so that’s what you were forgetting. you absentmindedly nod, still thinking of hyunjung’s words from earlier. “oh, sorry.”

he must sense some hostility in you, because he gently grabs your shoulders. “hey, are you okay? you look a little shaken up.”

usually you bottle up your worries; when they overfill, you shove them down even further. but yukhei is the complete opposite, so open about himself like he has nothing to hide. perhaps it’s because you spend so much time with him that his candid tendencies have rubbed onto you. “are you sure you’re okay with this?” you ask.

he tilts his head in confusion. “okay with what?”

you shrug, trying to show hyunjung’s words didn’t bother you as much as it had. “dating me?”

instantly he narrows his eyes, tightening his grip. “did- did hyunjung say something to make you think that way? is that why he came in here?” he protectively wraps his arms around you. “remind me to give him a lesson next time.” you snort; yukhei can’t even hurt a fly. if he does, it’s unintentional, and he always screams at the realization.

“i mean, i usually don’t listen to jerks like that, but-” you pause to gesture at yourself. “i’m your polar opposite, and as funny i think i am, i’m pretty quiet and boring. plus, you hate boring people, or at least people too stuck up for their own good.”

yukhei musters all of the sincerity in his eyes. “but that’s what makes us work so well, (name). i think i’m really cool and nice and all-” you snort at the comment. while all of those adjectives are true, it doesn’t make it less funnier, seeing how much confidence he has. “but i also have my flaws. i can be hotheaded, and i’m bad at saying no. but you help balance them out. you keep me leveled, and you’re always firm about what you want. plus, i help balance your flaws, too; we just work like that.” he squishes your cheeks together, eliciting a sound of protest from you. “if i don’t have a problem with a cutie like you, they shouldn’t, either.”

“some have yet to grasp the concept of treating you like a taken man,” you answer, though it comes out muffled. he giggles at the acknowledgement, leaning down to peck your nose. a garbled noise leaves your throat, and you close your eyes in embarrassment.

“maybe i should show them just how taken i am,” he hums. he promptly removes his hands from your face and wraps an arm around your shoulder. “how about we start by going on our date?”

despite how simple his resolution seems, you know you and yukhei will have another deeper discussion about today’s events. whereas he likes solving things with cuddles and kisses, you like to do it with deep conversations. that can wait for now. “let me lock up first. we’re getting food, right?”

when you look up at him, you suddenly realize what donghyuck meant when he said yukhei looks at you with heart eyes. the look he gives you is so sweet you feel like you’re getting cavities. it’s so endearing you nearly forget all of your insecurities, only focusing on how much he seems to adore you. he always seems to know what to do when you’re in a slump. “of course! gotta feed the cutie here,” he answers, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head.

you roll your eyes with a laugh, though you sneakily wrap your fingers with his. you’ll have plenty of time to repay the favor later.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 34

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: panic attacks

NEXT CHAPTER

    - James Buchanan Barnes, you are under arrest for the alleged harassment and stalking of Miss Y/N Y/L/N. -  Bucky’s mouth went dry as he questioned if he’d heard that correctly. 

Harassment? Stalking? Bucky and Y/N had barely even had a full blown fight yet. The closest thing to fighting would be the bickering sometimes the two of them would playfully engage in and even that was very, very far away from fighting. 

   - Buck? - he heard her name echo from the bedroom as she made her way to him, stopping once she noticed the swarm of police at her door. Her hand instinctively went too hold his as this deep feeling of dread, settled in the pit of her stomach and she grew overprotective of the man standing next to her. 

    - Miss Y/N Y/L/N please step aside. - the policeman in front of her moved his hand but Y/N continued on Bucky’s side, almost pushing him behind her back as if she were strong enough to fight more than 50 policemen. 

    - What is this about?

    - Don’t worry, m’am. We have a team of psychologists and medical experts ready to help you. You are safe.

    - What are you talking about?  

    - Y/N, it’s fine. - Bucky moved towards the policeman, extending his arms out to them so they could cuff him, although it was quite useless considering at any time he could just break free from them. It was no use doing anything and if he allowed her to go on, she would only get herself in trouble and he didn’t want her to get int rouble. He didn’t want this to be a struggle, he didn’t want another fight. 

She stood there helpless to do anything as the moment they had him cuffed they immediately started to pull him away, away from her and she was frozen in her place, helpless to do anything as she watched the same government who had taken him away two weeks prior, take him away again as if he was some criminal. The buzz was back in her ear and she tried to follow him, follow them. She didn’t know, she would sit with him outside of prison she just ... she didn’t want them to be alone with him, she didn’t want him to leave yet as her feet started to move, she noticed one of the policemen was holding her, stopping her movements. 

   - GET OUT OF MY HOME! - she yelled out at him, managing to free herself somehow from his hold yet Bucky had already been taken downstairs. Maybe it was for the best, if he had seen someone hold her like that he probably would’ve lost whatever sanity he had left.

   - M’am, please. You need to come with us. We understand you’re distressed but we have a team of professionals waiting to help you.

   - Get. Out. - she punctuated the words with anger. - OUT! 

They stood there watching her as if she were a mad woman and maybe she was. Maybe she was mad but she knew she was not obligated in any way, shape, or form to follow them. She closed the door on their faces, moving around the flat to find things to barricade the door with, her first thought being they would try to snatch her again by breaking down the door. Once she found herself comfortable with the barricade she had built, she let herself slide down to the floor, looking around about what she could do. What could she do? Why couldn’t she think about what to do? Her hand fished through the contents of her bag, everything falling down onto the floor until she got hold of her phone. The beeping was too long, it seemed as if every second lasted a year and the buzz in her ears was getting louder and louder. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was loud, too loud. 

   - Beanie? - her father’s voice came from her phone. - Are you okay?

   - No. They arrested Bucky and I don’t know what to do, they didn’t told me why and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.

   - Okay, beanie. Just breathe, yeah? Does he have a lawyer?

   - No, dad, I don’t think he does. 

   - One of my friends still works in a New York firm. I could get him to represent James. Do you know where they took him?

   - No, they didn’t tell me anything. Dad, you need to help me, I don’t know what to do. - she let her head rest against her free hand, knees moving up to her chest.  

   - It’s alright, beanie. It’s gonna be okay, you are okay, where are you?

   - Bucky’s flat.

   - Okay, hold on, beanie. We’ll get this sorted, just stay there.

She turned off the phone, letting herself curl against the dresser which barricaded the door. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved to be free. What could she do? She needed to do something, discover a way to find where he was and go stay there with him. She needed to be there for him, she wanted to be there for him. The seconds seemed like hours and hours seemed like years which felt like decades, the buzz quickly returned loudly in her ears and she found herself feeling suffocated by those four walls. Only her, those four walls and her. 

    - Y/N, open up, it’s Steve Rogers. - the knock on her door subsided the buzz. She looked around her, quick on her feet as she started to push the dresser to the side. Soon her little barricade was gone and she opened the door. Steve, Sharon and Sam were all there, with worried looks on her face. - Bucky used his call to call me. Are you okay?

   - You need to do something, Steve. 

   - Y/N, calm down.

   - Tell me to calm down again and I will throw you off the window. - she pointed at him menacingly. - Someone has to go to wherever he is and be with him. He’s all alone. 

   - It’s fine. I’ll go, just stay here with Sam and Sharon?

   - Why should you be the one going?

   - Well ... uhm, I’m Captain America. - Sharon hit Steve in the arm as he finished that sentence. - What was that for?

   - Don’t get cocky. - she rolled her eyes. - Bucky’s arrested under the belief he’s the one who broke into your apartment and wrote those letters. They think it’s him because while he was on the mission there were no letters, it is him. Mission was a trap. At least that’s what Bucky thinks. 

    - It’s not Bucky. Seriously? 

    - If you go, there’s just gonna think you have Stockholm Syndrome or something. - Sharon sat down on the couch. - I know you wanna see him, Y/N but at this point, it’s best that Steve and his inflated ego go.

    - Does he have a lawyer? Should we get him a lawyer? Maybe some money for bail? - Sam suggested.

    - My father is contacting one of his old acquittances and he should be able to track where Bucky is. - Y/N rubbed her arms. - It’s not true, it’s not Bucky.

    - It’ll be fine. - Sharon pushed Y/N onto the couch before she could finish her 100th round around the flat. She wanted to go, she was his fiancee, she had to be there but she did understand what Sharon meant.

Stockholm Syndrome. 

For her to have Stockholm Syndrome he would’ve had to kidnap and hold her hostage first which he hadn’t done. This was just a stupid theory without any basis other than a stupid theory. Soon enough, the buzzing in her ears were done and the sounds coming from the TV show Sharon had put on to distract her were quickly overpowered by the buzz. She bite her lip, trying once again not to cry. She was always crying, it made her feel so weak, so helpless. She couldn’t help herself in her industry and she couldn’t help the man she loved. She was useless, as useless as one can be. She clasped her hands side to side, putting pressure on her thumbs as her chest started to feel a bit tighter.

   - Y/N, look at me. - Sam put himself in front of her, knees bending down to her level so they were face to face. - Can you count to ten for me?

   - What? - she moved her hand up to her chest, pinching the skin on her sternum. She hadn’t noticed what she was doing.

   - Count to ten. You don’t need to say it out loud, just think it and take a deep breathe between each number. Can you do that?

She nodded her head but found herself getting lost between the mental images of the numbers in her mind. It became too much and whatever feeble control she had over her own tears broke down as it dawned on her.

It was her fault.

It was her fault he had been arrested. It was because of her and under her name he had gotten arrested. It was her fault. If she hadn’t complained, if she hadn’t moved in, if she hadn’t said anything he’d still be here. It was her fault he’d been given that stupid trap mission. Looking back, she was the common denominator in every situation. Why was she crying? She needs to stop crying, she needs to stop crying. There’s no use crying about it.

  - Hey, it’s fine. You’re safe, ok? You’re safe, Bucky’s safe.  - Sam sat next to the two girls.

  - Yeah, he has a metal arm which can bend metal. Worse case scenario, he bends the jail open and walks straight out. - Sharon tried to lighten the mood. - You two can always move to an island with no extradition policy.

She forced herself to smile, feeling the painful stretch on her lips before the buzz returned, but this time her eyes were focused on the TV yet she couldn’t process what was happening. It was almost as if she were sleeping with her eyes opened, yet she was conscious of it. She’d rather be disconnected from it, stuck in a transe as he rushed through her mind to try and find something she could do for him. 

She snapped out of it as the door of her flat was opened. Steve and the lawyer walked in first and Bucky came behind them, head low as if he had done something wrong. He’d done nothing wrong.

  - Buck ... - she ignored whatever the lawyer and Steve had started to say to reach him. She wrapped her arms around him, tucking his head in the space between her neck and shoulder. She broke her embrace for a few moments, cupping his face to inspect if anything had happened to him. - Are you okay? Did they hurt you?

  - I’m fine, princess. Are you okay? 

  - It doesn’t matter. - she turned to Steve and the lawyer, whose name she didn’t even know. - What happened? 

  - Mr. Barnes is out on bail due to lack of evidence regarding the accusation. It’s mostly speculation but prosecutors are following with a case due to Mr. Barnes prior ... prior case. They’re planning their case and at this moment, I believe they will have a strong case. Even if they don’t, the jury will always be slightly biased. Everyone knows who the Winter Soldier was so ... the defence has to be strong.

Bucky sat down in the couch with Y/N by his side. He was tired, once again yet that did not matter at all. 

   - Most likely they will ask you to testify, Miss Y/N which we will have to rehearse. Whatever you say will be perceived by the jurors as something against Mr. Barnes. Say anything positive they’ll associate it with trauma bonding, say anything negative it’ll reinforce the idea he’s guilty.

  - But Bucky’s not guilty. I know he’s not guilty, he was the one who got the letter back in London, he wasn’t even in Soho when they broke into my apartment. He didn’t do it, it’s ridiculous. 

  - I know but it’s a ... delicate case due to previous history so we will have to prepare for it. I will give you my office’s address and you and Mr. Barnes can come meet me and we will strategise how to deal with depositions, testimonies and we will try and find some witnesses. 

  - Does she need to testify? - Sharon asked. - It sounds like she’s shooting the case in the foot. 

  - She doesn’t but the court might order it, specially considering they believe she’s under coercion from Mr. Barnes. I would be surprised if they tried to install a restraining order.

  - I don’t want to testify against Bucky. - Y/N sighed, returning to pull at the skin of her fingers. 

  - It’s fine. - Bucky took her hand in his. - It’s gonna be fine, princess. 

  - I don’t want to testify.

  - Well, she doesn’t have to. - Sam intervened. - I mean ... there’s always spousal privilege. 

  - Yes but Miss Y/N and Mr. Barnes are not married, therefore spousal privilege would not apply.

  - They’re engaged. - Steve blurted out, getting a dirty look from Bucky. - You’re already gonna be married so ... what’s the problem?

  - I have another case to get to today but I’ll see both you and Miss Y/N tomorrow in my office with my associates and we’ll build a strong defense.

Suddenly she wished she would’ve listened to her siblings and father argue. about their respective cases. At least she could’ve been of any use. It was going to be fine, right? How can someone build a case without evidence and only based on reputation? They can’t. Right? 

   - Well ... we don’t even need to go to city hall. We can get a marriage certificate and an officiant. Make it nice and away from the press.

   - No. - Bucky said, getting up from the couch and walking into the bedroom, closing the door quite harshly. 

   - What did I do? - Steve looked at Y/N, a confused expression on his face. 

   - I’ll check on Bucky. 

She wondered if he had regretted it. Any regular person would have regretted proposing to the reason why they had been arrested. Y/N opened the door of their bedroom, finding Bucky sat in the corner of the bed, head rest upon his hands. 

   - Bucky, are you okay? - she sat by his side. - Did they hurt you?

   - No, I’m fine. - he didn’t mean to sound as harsh as it did. 

   - I’m so sorry, Bucky. I ... I didn’t know, I didn’t think ...

   - Sorry about what? - he turned his head to look at her. 

   - Well, you’re upset and I’m the reason you went on that mission and that you got arrested so ... sorry is the least I can do. 

   - I’m not upset at you, princess. I’m upset at this situation. I’ve lived my whole life in a weird way and I thought I was going to get a normal wedding, at least.

   - James. - she leaned her chin on his shoulder. - You’re 106 and I’m 26, that already makes it an odd marriage. 

   - You know what I mean ... a wedding in a church with a dress and a suit and maybe not the NY Police blaming me of stalking and harassment. Isn’t that what you want? Traditional wedding? 

   - No.  - she hooked her finger under his chin. - I want to be married to you. We can get married in the middle of one of your missions for all I care. I’ve worn my fair share of wedding gowns and big gowns, acted several weddings scenes and been to several weddings.

  - So you want to have a shotgun wedding?

  - It’s not a shotgun wedding if I’m not pregnant, Bucky. 

  - We can do this, right?

  - Yeah. What evidence do they have? They don’t have any evidence.

  - So ... we’re getting married.

  - We’re getting married.

taglist: @disasterbi​​ @lookiamtrying​​ @buckysteveloki-me​​ @americasass81​​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​​ @lostinthebeans​​ @mariahthelioness29​​ @oh-nohoney​​ @peaches-roses-sins​​ @theadorasabditory​​ @sipsteacasually​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​ @booktease21​​ @noiralei​​ @learisa​​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​​ @uglipotata72829​​ @naturalthrone22​​ @husherstan​​ @mandiiblanche​​ @vicmc624​​ @newyorkgoddess​​ @itsallyscorner​​ @chipilerendi​​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​​ @bluevxnus​​ @that-girl-named-alex​​ @captnrogers​​ @nsfwsebbie​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​ @niki-is-a-thing​​ @cynic-spirit​​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​​

[linkspooky]

This is kinda random, but what is your top 10 favorite otps?

Sure.

#1 of All Time SPUFFY

Spuffy, it wrote the book on both beauty and the beast archetypes, and enemies to lovers. For me the most important thing in a ship is the character development it brings about. Spike's redemption doesn't work without Buffy, because it's meeting the one person who expects better than him and won't put up with his selfish crap, that forces his character arc. Buffy's development is also nothing without Spike, it's meeting Spike that makes Buffy confront her dark side, and realize that being a good person isn't something you are, but something you work towards for the sake of your loved ones. The ideal ship should inspire this permanent character development and chane (Unless it ends tragically), they should be an inseperable part of each other's character arcs.

#2 Kumagawa / Ajimu

This is what I was talking about when I said "unless it ends tragically". Sometimes you ship two people who should never end up together, because they probably won't accept their differences. However, even in a failed relationship, two people can be important to each other. There's not really a hapyp ending for Ajimu and Kumagawa, despite their similiarities when they're together they just seem to make each other worse. In Medaka Box they are the anti-Zenkichi and Medaka. However, for Ajimu Kumagawa represents her only human connection, and for Kumagawa Ajimu represents the first person to be "good" to him even though their relationship soured at one point. Therefore I find the ship interesting because despite the fact that they are permanently separated they are still an incredibly important part of each other's identities and who they are now.

# 3 Matsuda / Junko

Basically for the same reason as what I said above. There is no universe where Junko and Matsuda end up in a happy relationship, as long as Junko is still Junko. However, Matsuda and DanganRonpa Zero as a whole add so much to Junko as a character. As long as Matsuda exists, Junko's more than just a black hole that only cares about despair, and I think together the side materials like IF and Zero show that Junko actually is capable of caring for people outside of her natural tendency to want to throw everything into despair, however, humanizing Junko in this manner doesn't actually make her a better person. She can have feelings like romantic, and familial love, and she still chooses to destroy those things and the people in her life. It just adds so much to Junko as a character, which is what I like ships as, an extension of characterization through character interaction.

#5 UIHAI

I love Ui and Hairu because it's like a broken fairy tale. It was a love that could have saved Hairu, but it didn't, because for Ui he always realized his feelings too late to save anyone. Hairu was obsessively chasing after Arima for the smallest amount of approval, when Ui was right there, and already in love with her. They seem like the perfect couple that could never get together, because Hairu is too fixated on Arima, and Ui is too fixated on his job. They are perfectly suited to giving each other what they wanted, and even in lots of side materials and sketches they seem like a pair, or Ui's feelings for Hairu come across as pretty clear but it never came to be in canon.

#6 ZACK / AERITH

Once again for the same reasons as above, it seems like a fairy tale romance of a knight, and a girl he wants to protect, but it fails completely to live up to that story. Zack and Aerith is a tragic story of first love for both of them, and it's also really formative for who Aerith is now as a character. Zack tried to be there for her, and he tried to be a hero to Aerith, only to very consistently not be there for her, and then disappear from her life all together. Much later on, Aerith is incredibly isilated, unable to fall in love with the real cloud without projecting Zack onto him. It's a relationship where in a better world they could have been there for each other, but also the failure of the relationship develops them as much as characters as them getting together might have. Zack and Aerith are one of those relationships that seems ideal on the surface but they are very different people with different wants, Zack wants to be a hero, Aerith just wants to be a person first.

#7 LINK / MIDNA

The best zelda ship period. Once again the most important part of a ship interaction is the change that both characters inspire in each other. Midna begins not caring about Link at all, never referring to him by name, only seeing him as an object, an old legend, a hero to be used instead of a person. Midna's a manipulative freak, and Link breaks through to her because he actually isn't interested in being the hero of legend, he just wants to save the people closest to him at the village because he feels indebted to them, and Midna inevitably becomes one of those people. Link and Midna's partneship makes the game, because it's Midna who pushes him and makes him into a hero, but it's Link through his unfledging acceptance of her who inspires her to be a person once more, and not just the twilight priness.

#8 Morrigan / Warden from DRAGON AGE ORIGINS

This and Spuffy are like the only two on this list who actually end up together, so let me just have this. Once again my favorite aspect of a ship is the transformation the relationship brings baout in a character. The warden is a non-character, but for Morrigan herself, her relationship with the warden is what allows her to escape an abusive household, and beyond that decide not to repeat the cycle of abuse with her new family. What made this ship an all time fave was in witch hunt when the Warden gets to ask her what she wants, and she's just completely confused. Even with her mother dead, Morrigan is still a tool of her mother's ambitions, it's still all about her mother wants. It's her love with the warden, either through friendship or romance that awakens Morrigan to the fact she's allowed to exist as a person with wants and needs outside of what her mother wants her to be.

#9 Kaine / Nier

It's the Most Humanizing Ship Ever Between Two Mass Murderers. As a story, I think Nier is about finding the life, and love, in a story that is ultimately, fatally doomed. Nier only worse and worse as the game goes on but that doesn't mean there was never any love in his life. For every bad thing Nier does, he was not bad to every single person, specifically Kaine, it was Nier's love and belief in her that allows the wounds in her heart to start to heal. As Nier and Nier gets worse, Kaine's own shadow self says, that her feelings in her heart are no longer hatred, or even revenge, there's just a pure white light of love left. In a game where everything only rots, Kaine has healed to the point where she can love again when she never thought it was possible. It's why I like ending D the best, because it's Nier knowing he can never escape his own sins, but he can use his last action to heal Kaine fully all the way and allow her to live on a few more years.

#10 SATOSUGU

Once again, there's no universe where they end up together, and yet still on opposite sides of a conflict they remain each other's closest friends. The most important thing about a ship is the character development it leads to and Gojo would not be who he is today without Suguru. I generally get the sense that Gojo's idea of a good person isn't himself, but rather who Geto used to be before he broke. Gojo actually relied on on Geto for a lot more than he realized, considering it was the one connection he had that seemed to humanize him. Geto provided the chosen one who can do literally anything in the world with his powers, support and guidance. He was the jade, and the foundation of their two person friendship, and then the jade broke.

Gojo and Geto's broken relationship is not only the most emotional thing in the series to me, it's also an incredible part of who they are ten years after the fact. Gojo straight up didn't bother to make friends for ten years later after the fact even though he could have, Geto still told his daughters that Gojo and him were best friends, they just had a fight. He couldn't comperehend in Volume Zero that Gojo would still regard him as a friend after everything that they had done.

It's like one of those "Can't live with them, can't live without them" pairs. They want to be each other's one and only but it just won't work because they don't understand each other, and neither of them is willing to compromise. They are also each other's perfect yin / yang complement. Gojo is the opposite of Geto, and still carries a part of Geto within him, and Geto even after becoming the enemy of the sorcery world while Gojo is the savior, still carries that friendship with Gojo inside of him as well. While their relationship is a failed one, it's also a past I hope that the next generation Megumi and Itadori both learn from, even if Geto never truly comes back.

[maybankiara]

IF I SAY A CLICHE (IT’S CAUSE I MEAN IT)

pairing: Pre-Canon!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

summary: Despite knowing his name, or perhaps in spite of it, Y/N only ever calls him Rafael, even as he goes above and beyond to get her to go out with him. (Especially as he does that.) -- loosely based off Noora x William from SKAM

w/c: 6.3k

a/n: @snkkat suggested this like three months ago and i recently remembered this and wrote it in two sessions. this is a lil baby of mine and i adore it with all my heart and i really hope y’all enjoy it, too!

masterlist | tag list

‘Hey.’

 It takes Rafe Cameron three years to notice you. When you moved to the Outer Banks, to the outskirts of what the locals called Figure Eight (‘Without a doubt, the prettiest, most extravagant part of the island,’ said your dad), you built your way out of nothing. It was a fresh start – new school, new friends, new opportunities.

 And obviously, new assholes who think they’re all that in high school.

 Rafe Cameron is, easily, the worst of the crop.

 It’s your third year of high school when you’re walking down the staircase in the northern wing of the Robert Cooke Academy, and Rafe Cameron intercepts your way.

 He’s all gelled hair, preppy-boy clothing that consists of a muted-yellow polo and black trousers, and a grin that somehow encompasses his entire personality.

 You raise a single eyebrow. ‘Hello?’

 ‘You’re Y/N, right?’

 ‘Yes, I am, Rafael.’

 The thing with boys like Rafe is that they’re easy to know. You didn’t have to look at him twice to see he thinks of himself as the prince of the school—the island, actually—and that just about every person who lives and breathes in the Outer Banks knows exactly who he is. Not long after that, you heard some talk of Rafe constantly giving those “filthy pogues” from the south side of the island what they deserve. He’d show up to school with bruises and stitches, but never without a smug look that’s just as prominent than the injuries themselves.

 You hear your friends move behind you, letting some people pass. Rafe doesn’t budge, and you don’t either.

 His eyes search yours with the same crook in his smile. ‘It’s Rafe.’

 ‘That’s what I said,’ you state. ‘Rafael.’

 The look he gives you is puzzled. He stares, just for a moment, and then you push yourself past him without another word. Your friends follow suit but he doesn’t, which you consider a good thing – Rafe isn’t used to girls not falling at their knees around him.

 When you’re finally away from the staircase, leaving him behind, your friends ask you about the whole ordeal. They don’t ask much—they know you’re not someone keen on whatever the social hierarchy of the school is supposed to be—but they ask why you decided to consistently call him the wrong name.

 A teacher enters the classroom and the talks turned into hushed conversations. You turn around in your chair with it letting out the tiniest squeal, and smile at your friends sitting beside you. ‘I just thought he’d hate it if I called him by the wrong name.’

 ‘He’s going to hate you,’ one of your friends deadpans.

 ‘And therefore leave me alone.’

 The teacher calls on your for talking, so you get your attention back to the class, instead. Contrary to what might be the popular belief, you don’t really think about Rafe. What you did was what you thought necessary to keep him away from you.

 Boys don’t like girls who poke at their ego.

 Except.

 Except Rafe does.

 When he approaches you two days later, it’s in the corridor of school where you’ve never seen him before (‘Which means one thing and one thing only – he was looking for you’, your friend concludes later).

 You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, pretending not to see him even when nearly every head around you is turned towards him. You clutch your books close to your chest, getting ready to return them to your locker for the lunch break, when he steps in your way.

 Again, you raise an eyebrow. Your back shivers at all the eyes staring at you, now.

 Rafe gives you a fox-like smile. ‘Hi, Y/N.’

 ‘Get out of my way, Rafael.’

 The corridor stirs, or so it seems.

 An exasperated sigh comes from the boy in front of you, yet he looks as sure of himself as ever. ‘You know it’s Rafe.’

 You cock your head to the side, eyebrows furrowing. ‘Is it?’

 Rafe laughs, for the first time, and it’s a sound that somehow fills the space between the two of you. You tell yourself Rafe is just a boy, but it doesn’t ring true this time.

 His eyes drill into yours for a long moment. ‘Go out with me.’

 ‘Ha! Not gonna happen.’

 You pull your shoulders back, straighten your spine, raise your chin and step around the boy with ease. He’s quick to react, though, so it’s less than a second later that your hear heavy steps catching up to yours. His presence at your side is something that takes a lot of effort to ignore.

 ‘Have lunch with me, then.’

 People stare. You ignore them, too, and take a turn into the corridor that leads to the cafeteria. ‘That’s not going to happen, either. I’m having lunch with my friends.’

 ‘Fine,’ says Rafe, and you have to repeat the word in your head to be certain you’ve heard it correctly.

 ‘Fine?’

 ‘Yeah, fine,’ he reaffirms. ‘What, were you hoping for a different answer?’

 Part of you wants to admit that you thought he’d put up a fight, keep you entertained even for a bit (no, you tell yourself, i’m not looking to rafe cameron for entertainment!), but you keep your lips pressed tight as you look him up and down.

 The smile you give him is sour, far from reaching your eyes. ‘Not in a million years, Rafael.’

 ‘Rafe,’ he says again.

 ‘Mhm.’

 You reach the cafeteria and he is still at your side, but you ignore him. That is, until you feel a hand clasp your arm and bring you to a halt – firm and decisive. It’d take a fool not to know who it is.

 When you turn around, there’s a question on your lips, but an answer already falling from his, ‘Go out with me.’

 ‘I said that’s not happening.’

 ‘If I buy you lunch?’

 ‘You can buy me lunch,’ you say, ‘but I won’t have it with you.’

 ‘Fine.’

 All you do in response is quirk an eyebrow at him, arms crossed at your chest. He’s still holding onto it, and when he finally lets go, you feel cold where his hand once was.

 Rafe smiles at you and, surprisingly, it’s a smile with charm and no cockiness. ‘What do you want?’

 With only the slightest bit of hesitation, you tell him your order for the day. It’s more than you’d usually take—some of it is for your friends, too—but he doesn’t seem to care, even if he notices. He tells you he’d bring it to your table and you join your friends who, naturally, have about a million questions.

 The two of you weren’t particularly unnoticeable with your conversation.

 You’ve got no answers of substance, though, because the story repeats itself – Rafe Cameron asks you out and you deny him.

 True to his words, about two minutes later, the blond arrives to your table, tray in hand. ‘For you.’

 ‘Thanks, Rafael! You can go now.’

 Rafe places the tray in front of you, hands firm and steady. You don’t even look at him, continuing to talk to your friends instead, but you do feel the air whoosh around you as he turns and leaves, without a word.

 You snack on the fries as if nothing just happened. When your friends ask, you pretend it was nothing.

 It wouldn’t be a lie if you said that you never intended on communicating with the school’s half-official (if all those football trophies are saying anything) king. He’s not looking for a queen – if the rumours you hear are half as true, his bed is warmer like this, anyway.

 One of your friends accuses you of playing mind games with him in an effort to make him fall for you, and you nearly flip out. ‘Rafe Cameron is a misogynistic, self-obsessed, narcissistic pig. I’d rather go out with an actual pig than him.’

 Your friends let it go, because you sound convincing enough, but you can’t seem to let it go anymore. On your way home, you tell yourself you have every right to feel no guilt or remorse for the way you act towards him – you tell yourself he’s never shown you to be anything other than the person you think him to be.

 But then – he bought you lunch, knowing he’d be getting nothing out of it.

 maybe that’s the plan. lull me into believing him to want nothing and then have me give him everything.

 The thought is annoying enough that you get on Instagram when you get home, finding yourself scrolling down his feed. Friends, football, family, travels. His tagged is worse, though – mostly partying, him with a variety of girls as his arm candy.

 Your phone ends up thrown on your bed with a little too much force.

 This is it, you tell yourself, no more thinking about Rafe.

 It lasts until morning, anyway. He catches you on your way into the Academy, relentless at your side.

 ‘So,’ begins Rafe, ‘misogynistic, self-obsessed, narcissistic pig.’

 Your heart sinks into your stomach and your blood runs cold – you’d never meant for him to hear that. But you keep walking as if his words can’t touch you, even if you have to stuff your hands into your pockets to keep the embarrassment from showing. ‘I wasn’t wrong.’

 ‘You were.’

 ‘Interesting theory.’

 The two of you pass through the entrance. People are looking, again, without even hiding it anymore. You wonder what they are saying, whispering when neither of you are within earshot. Do they think you’re a slut, just one of Rafe’s conquers? Do you think you’re an ice-cold bitch? Do they think you’re stuck up, or doing the right thing?

 Maybe they don’t notice, you find yourself hoping. The moment Rafe decided to start talking to you, you lost any semblance of anonymity you might’ve had before.

 He smells like a fancy cologne, you realise. A mountain forest with a sprinkle of something from the sea.

 ‘Let me prove you I’m none of that.’

 ‘Not happening.’

 He steps in front of you, making you stop. ‘Go out with me, one time, and if you still hate me, I’ll never bother you again.’

 You ponder for a hot second, shifting weight from one foot to another. ‘I don’t hate you. I don’t care about you enough for that, Rafael.’

 Rafe’s neck tenses just the slightest bit, and you think that maybe you’d finally found something that does put him off. But then he relaxes, lips stretch into a comfortable smile, and he shrugs. ‘All I’m asking for is one date.’

 ‘And you never talk to me again,’ you clarify.

 ‘If that’s what you’ll want.’

 ‘Fine.’

 ‘Fine?’

 The smile you give him is coy. ‘Were you hoping for a different answer, Rafael?’

 He shakes his head. Against your will, you notice that he looks far more relaxed than before, and you aren’t as indifferent to noticing that as you’d told yourself you’d be.

 ‘Not in a million years.’

 For a moment, you try to figure out if quoting one another to one another is cringe, and then you give up, because you already know the answer.

 It should be yes.

 But it is this: he notices. He pays attention.

 So you let out the tiniest of sighs. ‘Friday, six o’clock.’

 ‘I’ll pick you up at yours.’

 ‘You know where I live?’

 ‘No,’ he says, ‘but I’m guessing you’ll text me your address.’

 Rafe puts out a hand and you know what he’s meaning. The bell rings as you’re taking your phone out of your pocket, signalling the start of the first period that you’ll most likely be late to.

 He saves his number to your contacts and you put it back, already on your way.

 Naturally, he’s quick to fall into step with you. ‘You’re not going to text me the address?’

 ‘Not giving you my number before I need to.’

 You stop in front of a classroom and peek through the small window on the door to ensure the teacher hasn’t arrived yet. When you glance at Rafe, your hand on the doorknob, he’s smiling.

 ‘Whatever you want, Y/N.’ He takes a step back, just about beaming, and you do your best to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach. ‘See you Friday!’

 ‘Whatever, Rafael.’

 He blows you an air kiss as he walks away and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling. When you finally get into the class, mere seconds before your teacher, you spend most of it thinking about none other than Rafe Cameron himself.

 At the end of the day, you’re just human, and he is just another hot guy. It’s human nature to feel things for people you don’t necessarily want to. And, to be fair – aside from being slightly annoying and fairly inconvenient, Rafe has been nothing but a gentleman to you.

 No one has ever bought you something without expecting anything in return. And fair enough, it could be argued that Rafe did expect you to eventually agree to him asking you out—which you did—but he couldn’t know for sure.

 And, despite what you might be saying, you like the attention from him. You like feeling seen.

 Monday to Friday passes with occasional glances, bare conversations. Rafe approaches you several times, buys you lunch every day and brings it to your table without hesitation. You hear what people begin to say – how they begin to call him “pussy whipped”.

 The bell rings just as you’re about to deny the rumour, and you’re quite literally saved by the bell. You get into the classroom unable to believe you were just about to defend Rafe Cameron, and it’s only Thursday.

 If he knows, you don’t notice. The rumours—about the both of you—simmer down to whispers by Friday afternoon, and when Rafe brings you lunch this time, there’s a note on it.

 You look gorgeous, it reads. I can’t wait for tonight. – Rafe

 There was no need for him to sign it but he did, and when you glance at him,  inadvertently, you catch him looking at you.

 Rafe smiles, and you return it.

 When the last bell rings, you text him your address. Your friends don’t know about the date – if they knew, they wouldn’t let you live it down for the entire week. What they know is that Rafe kept trying to do something with you. Whether it meant to sleep with you or marry you, didn’t matter.

 Not like you know either, anyway.

 Rafe shows up at six on the dot, driving a car that you’re not sure if it’s his dad’s or his own. Could be either. He opens the door for you, lets you decide the music, and tells you he’s not letting you know where he’s taking you.

 ‘If you kill me,’ you say, ‘my friends know where I am.’

 ‘They don’t.’

 ‘How would you know?’

 ‘I know you’re embarrassed of being seen with me,’ he says quietly, ‘and I know you wouldn’t tell them we’re on a date right now.’

 You manage to stop an apology right just as it’s about to fall from your lips, innocent and all too earnest. You don’t want to be sorry for keeping this a secret, even if Rafe’s done you no wrong.

 He pulls up at a hill, in the heart of the island. There’s a bench right in front of you, no streetlights in sight. If he wanted to murder you, he couldn’t have found a better spot.

 Rafe pulls the handbrake. Turns off the car. Looks at you with a look in his eyes that you can’t read.

 ‘I’m not expecting anything,’ he tells you, as if it were a secret. ‘Just so you know. If you leave still not caring, then… I guess that’s the way things are.’

 There’s nothing you could say to that, so you say nothing. He leaves the car and goes to sit on the bench. For a few excruciating moments, you remain in the car, until your curiosity gets the best of you.

 Fresh air feels like water on a hot day. You wrap your jacket around you tighter, aware of Rafe’s back turned to you. He’s facing the town, instead – from where you are, you can see the entire island. The lit-up Figure Eight and the faded-away Cut all the same.

 The moment you sit down, Rafe looks at you. His expression is the one of quiet relief – as if he didn’t think you’d join him.

 He notices you shivering. ‘I have coffee in the car.’

 ‘It’s nearly seven o’clock.’

 ‘So no? I’ve got tea, too.’

 ‘Tea would be nice.’

 Rafe comes back a minute later, two cups and a thermal one in hand, as well as a blanket. He sets the cups on the bench and places the blanket on your shoulders, gently, with far more care than you’d think him possible. He pours tea into a cup and hands it to you, then pours some more into his own.

 You’re surprised that he isn’t talking. You can hear the crickets in the distance, and some birds chirping away, too.

 The calm is odd. Peaceful, if you dare say so.

 ‘You like the view?’

 You nod. ‘It’s quite pretty.’

 ‘Yeah, it is.’ He lets out a shaky breath, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. ‘I come here when shit gets tough.’

 A chuckle passes your lips before you stop it. Rafe doesn’t look at you, but you see him tense. It feels wrong, so you clear your throat and ask, ‘Tense?’

 He glances at you, but doesn’t speak for a while. You can’t tell if he’s gathering his thoughts or gauging whether you’re worth it or not. If you were him, you wouldn’t know what to decide about the latter.

 The blanket around your shoulders is warm, so you wrap it around yourself more tightly, taking a sip from the cup in your hands.

 ‘Why do you think I’m a misogynist?’ he asks. ‘I get the others, but…’

 You take your gaze away from him. The street lights look like little fallen stars, and you try to search for an answer within them – an answer to a question you’re still too afraid to ask.

 ‘Is it because I sleep around?’

 ‘Maybe,’ you say. He’s putting you on the spot and you haven’t got the answers he’s looking for, either. ‘You’re always with others girls, and you just let them throw themselves at you, like you don’t care about them. Like you use them and leave.’

 ‘When I sleep with a girl, she knows what she’s getting herself into,’ he explains. The words seem to fill out his mouth and come forth slowly, as if carefully weighted. ‘None of them expect anything more than a one-night stand. And it’s not my fault they throw themselves at me – the least I can do is give them what they want.’

 ‘So it’s all on them.’

 ‘Yes.’

 ‘You’re never the one pursuing them.’

 ‘No,’ he says. ‘When I’m pursuing someone, it looks like this.’

 Gentle, you think. Quiet.

 Two words you’d never connect to Rafe Cameron. Not until seeing him at the top of this hill, leaning over the Outer Banks, a warm cup of tea in hand, looking ready to pour his heart out to you. Ask and I’ll answer, it’s as if he’s saying.

 You glance at him and for the first time, you think about him without stopping yourself. You wonder how much of who he is, is a front – the bad boy, the desirable one. There’s no doubt that he’s enjoying it, but how much of it is he working for himself? How much effort goes into keeping up the image?

 If half of what he’s saying is the truth, then he’s just entertaining what people already think of him.

 does that make a difference?

 You’d like to think it doesn’t. He still sleeps around, then doesn’t look at them twice. He still pesters you, can’t take no for an answer, basically throwing you an ultimatum in order to get you to go out with him.

 does it make a difference?

 ‘Does it make a difference?’

 Rafe turns to you and holds your gaze. Even under the dim shine of a new moon, you can see the pandemonium inside it – he’s trying to find the answer to the very same question.

 He sighs, then lets his head fall down. ‘I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that.’

 ‘Is that why you wanted me to come here?’

 ‘No,’ he says, no louder than a whisper. ‘I just wanted someone to try to see me for who I am, not who other people say I am. Guess I was wrong.’

 ‘Or maybe you just are what others say you are.’

 The look he gives you is pained, and his face distorts as if someone had backhanded him across the face. His knuckles go white from the intensity with which he’s gripping the cup and, for a moment, he looks outraged – eyes bewildered, lips slightly parted – and then he blinks, and all of it is as good as gone.

 A moment of weakness. A moment of seeing into the Rafe you had no idea existed.

 You wonder if that’s who’s hiding behind the front – a boy of barely seventeen, maddened by the fear. You wonder if there’s more to the ‘things getting tough’ than you’d thought.

 Rafe clears his throat. His eyes are fixed onto the street lights, far into the distance. When he speaks, his voice sounds the same. ‘I can drive you back now, if you want.’

 You can’t tear your eyes off him. ‘I think I’d like to stay a little longer.’ He looks at you, face unclear. ‘The view is nice.’

 The smile he gives you is tiny and modest, but it’s thankful more than anything else.

 The one you give in return is kind.

 Time passes, and the two of you do nothing but spend it together. He’s sitting on one side of the bench and he on the other, not touching, not talking, not acknowledging one another.

 is he lonely? you wonder. This doesn’t look like a place he’s brought many people to, even if you haven’t asked. He’s always got friends around, but he didn’t hesitate to ask to have lunch with you, and you know how those football friendships tend to be – nothing more than convenience for convenience’s sake.

 does he have any real friends?

 Against your will, you pity him. You pity the boy who’d fooled everyone into thinking he had it all sorted out, yet his front shattered the moment he stepped out of that car.

 A few more moments with him won’t hurt. Maybe he just needs someone to be around.

 ‘What makes you come up here?’ you ask, after nearly half an hour of silence.

 Rafe frowns, then side of his face you can see stretches out into an empty smile, never reaching his eyes. ‘It’s peaceful. No sides. No obligations. No other people.’ until now – he doesn’t say it but you hear it, anyway. ‘No pretending to be who they expect me to be.’

 ‘Freedom,’ you say.

 ‘Yeah,’ he echoes, ‘freedom.’

 Eldest child and only son of one of the wealthiest men on the island. Star quarterback. King of the Academy, prince of the Figure Eight, prince of the island.

 Where does a royalty like that get freedom aside from place with no other people?

 ‘Why me?’ you ask.

 He deserves some credit – the actually thinks before he talks, this time around. ‘You don’t like me. It’s nice, for a change.’

 Your laughter seems fleeting, but it earns you an earnest smile from the boy. ‘That’s fucked up, Rafael.’

 ‘Tell me ‘bout it.’

 ‘Is that your thing? Liking girls who don’t like you?’

 He shrugs, even laughs, a little. ‘Maybe. It’s nice when people don’t have expectations of you.’

 ‘I expected you to be a douche.’

 ‘Am I?’

 ‘A little bit,’ you admit, ‘but not as much as I thought.’

 He smiles, his face turned to you. He appears to be shining a little, under the moonlight, and his hair appears far blonder than it is. He looks fragile, almost – you don’t think it would take much to shatter him into pieces.

 ‘Thanks, Y/N.’

 You only give yourself a moment to smile before scoffing. ‘You’re still arrogant and self-absorbed.’

 Rafe shrugs, but he does it with ease, as if weight had been lifted off him. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’

 At this, you just roll your eyes.

 The silence that befalls is comfortable, if not comforting. Neither of you talks, and you feel like you are finally starting to understand the boy at your side. One evening together is far from enough to change your entire opinion on someone, but it’s enough to shake it up – make you think of them differently.

 You’re willing to give him a chance.

 ‘I think I want to go home now,’ you say quietly.

 He nods. You’re back at your house one relaxing ride later, but you don’t get out of the car right away. The music playing on the radio is low and in the background; nothing is in front of you except street lights that appear to extend into eternity – it feels different than the world you left at the hill.

 ‘Thanks,’ you tell him.

 ‘What for?’

 You look at him, gentle. ‘The tea.’ And everything else.

 It’s the last you see or hear of him until Monday morning, when he shows up at the front door of the Academy just as you’re about to enter, holding to coffee cups that smell distinctively of tea.

 ‘Mornin’,’ he tells you, smiling wide. You greet him back and he falls into step with you, handing you one of the cups. ‘Tea?’

 You take it – it would be rude not to. People are staring, again, and you realise you’d forgotten that you and Rafe exist outside of your small world on the hill.

 Other people exist, too.

 The two of you stand in front of your locker. He holds your tea while you take your books and put others away. There’s still some time before the first bell and, surprisingly, you’re not too mad about spending it like this.

 ‘Aren’t you worried?’ you ask.

 Rafe hands you your tea back. ‘About what?’

 ‘People,’ you say, ‘rumours. Expectations.’

 ‘Not when I’m with you.’

 It’s just a statement, just an answer to your question, yet it feels more like a confession than anything else. You wonder what it must feel like to be so open about one’s feelings – putting them out for everyone to see, everyone to do with as they please.

 Or just you.

 You tear your eyes off the students filling out the hallway, hoping they’d do the same. Rafe is leaning against the locker beside yours, sipping on your tea, looking at you like you’re the only thing worth his time in the whole wide world.

 Your locker closes with a click. ‘You said I’d never have to see you again after the date.’

 For a heartbeat, he’s the same boy you spoke to on that hill – fragile, angry, broken. ‘Is that what you want?’

 ‘I don’t know,’ you admit. ‘Thanks for the tea, Rafael.’

 ‘Y/N—’

 Before he gets another word in, you march off, turning around the corner, making your way to your classroom.

 Chatter is what you arrive to; friends unaware of your entire perception of a whole person shifting in a matter of hours. If people paid attention to your and Rafe’s exchange before class, the whispers hadn’t arrived to your friends, yet.

 You don’t need to wonder what they’ll ask.

 Instead, you wonder about Rafe – you wonder about what to do next.

 He’ll leave you alone, if you say the word. You’ve learnt enough about him to know this to be nothing short of truth. Do you want someone like him in your life – someone who sticks to what people think of him like paper to glue? Do you want to see if he’s better on the inside than you’d think, kinder, nicer? If the Rafe you began to be introduced to at the top of the hill is who he truly is?

 You wish the answer were no. Things would be easier.

 Instead, come lunch time, the rumours have reached your friends, and you don’t deny them this time around. Yes, Rafe Cameron brought you tea in the morning. Yes, you were semi-nice to him.

 Yes, you plan on talking to him again.

 So, come lunch time, you are the one to approach him. He’s sitting with his football group that includes Topper and Kelce, two of the biggest airheads—in your humble opinion—Kildare has ever seen.

 He doesn’t notice you, because you walk up behind him, until Topper nods in your direction. Rafe raises his eyes to meet yours and you see the shape of his face change – soften. Rafe from the Academy morphing with the Rafe from the hill.

 ‘Rafael,’ you say. ‘You want to get some real food after school?’

 The eyes of the people burn into the back of your head – little daggers, stabbing at your privacy, privy to what’s none of your business.

 His lips stretch into a smile. It suits him, you think.

 ‘Meet me at my car?’

 You nod. ‘See ya.’

 In your head, the entire cafeteria watches the exchange with googling eyes. In reality, maybe a few people noticed. Your friends did – for the better or for worse, you’re unsure.

 As agreed, Rafe waits for you outside the building, on the adjacent parking lot. He’s leaning against the very same car he picked you up in last Friday, arms crossed over his chest, one ankle over the other, a lazy smile etched into his cheekbones.

 If anyone watches, you don’t notice. You try not to. He opens the door for you and when he finally drives away, after making a bit of small talk about your day—is it small talk or does he… care?—he pulls up at the Wreck. Something you’d always been told was for the tourists, not the locals.

 ‘Odd choice,’ you note.

 ‘It’s quiet.’

 He leaves the car and by the time you’ve taken your phone out of your bag, he’s holding the door open for you. You thank him and watch him do the same for the entrance into the restaurant, a bubbling feeling inside your chest.

 It doesn’t feel forced. It doesn’t feel out of place.

 If anything, it feels right.

 When you enter the restaurant and chatter fills out every inch of the place, you understand what Rafe meant by quiet. It’s where the two of you can have your own conversation, with a guarantee of seeing nobody you recognise, and the tourists that are coming around for the beginning of the winter season are loud enough that whatever you say, remains between the two of you.

 Rafe orders for you. You make him take a guess and he stares at you for a hot second before ordering something that you already know you’d like. ‘How did you know?’

 He gives a nonchalant shrug. ‘I was getting you lunch for a week. Kind of figured out what you like.’

 The sentiment is small, but it’s still here. You can’t stop the smile in your cheeks.

 ‘I thought you said you didn’t want me around,’ he says.

 ‘Changed my mind.’ You twirl your finger around the straw from the coke bottle, noticing it’s paper rather than plastic, like in other Figure Eight restaurant. ‘I wouldn’t mind getting to know the guy I met on the hill.’

 ‘Is that your way admitting you were wrong about me?’

 ‘The most you’re getting is that I’ll say there might be more to you than I figured,’ you counter. He groans with his head in his hands, but peeks at you between his fingers. ‘You’ve still got to prove me wrong.’

 ‘Okay,’ he says. ‘I’ll prove you wrong.’

 When he extends a pinkie to you, you can’t help but take it, not even caring about holding back your laughter.

 In the end, you spend the rest of the entire day with him. You learn bits and piece, here and there – Rafe is like a puzzle you need to solve to get to the truth. He’ll never say his father hates him, but you see it from when he talks about their relationship, and how many excuses he has to make for Ward to seem like a decent father (you don’t have the heart to tell him that he’s failed, both of them).

 A lot of things are noticeable only between the lines, and it’s something you learn over the course of the next few weeks. You and Rafe grow closer than either of you anticipated – a friendship forged out of unlikely circumstances. Him having his fucked-up childhood that makes him seek out approval from those who don’t give it to him, and you letting yourself care for someone who’s broken, seeing if you can help him fix himself.

 You don’t fix him. That’s not what friends are for. But you do point out things that aren’t okay around him.

 At school, he becomes a lot more like Rafe from the top of the hill. His smile is brighter and bigger, and his laughter echoes the halls with its fullness instead of sharpness. Even Topper and Kelce seem to be less of airheads eventually, and people don’t care that much.

 His tagged section of Instagram isn’t being filled with any more pictures with random girls – just you. At parties, at school, at wherever you go.

 He continues to get you lunch, even after you try to stop him. He greets the girls he’d slept with and he respects when you say that you don’t want to see him at certain times, even if he does ask twice.

 He asks about you – a lot. It’s the one thing you’ve been wrong about this whole time, and it’s the one that’s taking the hardest to admit.

 You’re at the top of the hill, just as you usually are on Friday evenings, before a party or whatever’s going on that night. Sometimes you’d just go to his or yours and watch a movie, go home or fall asleep together.

 Rafe brings you tea. You take it with a smile, feeling his thigh against yours. ‘Thanks, Rafael.’

 He watches you with fondness in his eyes. Sometimes you wonder if it’s reserved just for you – you never see him look at anyone else like that.

 ‘How’s studying going?’

 ‘Good,’ you reply. ‘It’s tedious, like it always is, but I’m getting there.’

 The arm looped around your shoulder is familiar, and the closeness of Rafe’s body when he tugs you closer is familiar, too. ‘You’ll get into a good college, Y/N. I’m sure of it.’

 ‘What about you? Aren’t you supposed to be studying?’

 ‘Doesn’t matter,’ he says, and you take note of the bitterness in his voice. His thumb caresses your shoulder as if it were a lifeline, and you feel him relax as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. ‘My dad will send me to UNC regardless of my grades.’

 ‘I’m sorry.’

 ‘It’s okay.’

 Freedom, you think – the one thing Rafe longs for the most.

 The one thing he says he only has when he’s with you. Freedom of judgement, of time, of future, of family.

 Just you, and him.

 You shuffle away from him, enough so that his arm falls from your shoulder to your waist, holding on. He looks at you with a wrinkle between his brows, lips slightly parted, tea cup in the other hand.

 You smile.

 And then you press your lips against his, your hands cradling his face. For a moment, nothing happens—you’re worried you made a mistake—and then he grips your waist and tugs you a little closer, his lips part and he kisses you back ferociously, as if you were the breath he’d been longing to get into his lungs.

 Rafe rests his forehead against yours when you break the kiss, the taste of him lingering. He’s warm and soft, and you feel at home in the arms of a boy you resented not too many months ago.

 Neither of you speaks. His thumb slips underneath your shirt, brushing against your skin, never travelling any further. His breath smells like tea and he tastes like it, too.

 All you hear is breathing, heartbeat, and a bird singing somewhere far away, or right next to you.

 Rafe lets out a quiet laugh. ‘I’m glad you don’t hate me.’

 ‘How could I?’

 You hear him putting the cup on the bench, knowing it even with your eyes closed. The tips of his fingers trace the line of your jaw, resting on your neck, with only his thumbs gentle at the place where your neck meets your jaw.

 He doesn’t say he loves you, and you don’t say it, either, but it’s one of those things that goes between the lines.

 Rafe kisses you and you realise it’s enough that you no longer worry about people seeing you, and he no longer tries to be who they think he is.

 ‘Everything that’s ever happened to us led to this,’ he states.

 ‘To a boy and a girl, on a hill,’ you say, words slipping off your lips akin to a dream. ‘Just Y/N and Rafe.’

 He kisses you with fire between his lips and holding onto you as if letting go would kill him, and for a moment, you feel it to be true. Your fingers are lost in his hair, pulling him as close as physically possible, and it truly feels like everything in your life led up to this very moment.

 Rafe and you, against all odds.

★

tagging. @jjtheangel @teenwaywardasgardian @thelocalpogue @jjmaybanky @sacredto @chasefreakinstokes @drewstarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @margaritatimebaybee @outrbank @yourlocalauthor @justawilddreamerchild @snkkat @mynamewontwork13 @sunwardsss @storiesbymads @koufaxx @drewstarkeyobx @ilovejjmaybank @jjmaybanksbaby @mahleeyuh @starkeymarkey @nicolewithasoul @kiarawilliams127 @butgilinsky @bricksatanakinswindow @starlightstarkey @copper-boom @starrystarkey93 @hotel-colson @stargazingstarkey @outerbanksbro @anonymous0writer @annedub @outerbongs @jjandreidsgirl @jjmaybanqs @kaitieskidmore1 @maybanksbaby @yelyahryan @obx-direction-sos @stfukie @dustyjjumpwings@abbiesthings @tempestuousjj @coconutroseowl (i tagged you cause you said you were interested by the excerpt!) @solllaris @k-k0129 @queenofthepouges @jroseron

[wisteriabookss]

Why Nesta Stans Stan Nesta: For The People Who Don’t Get It.

I think one of the biggest misunderstandings towards Nesta fans is that we don’t acknowledge or understand that she emotionally, mentally, and verbally abused Feyre. We know. We very much know. And if you come across a fan who doesn’t, then please educate them! I’m not afraid to say that this past week I was educated on this as well. 

I think a lot of anti-nesta’s focus on Nesta in ACOTAR, whereas Nesta stans see the progression of her character throughout all three books. Nesta stans see her potential to grow, learn, and change. This in no way makes her past actions excusable. Nothing can do that. But clinging to the idea that someone isn’t able to evolve will cause more harm than good, especially in cases like Nesta’s where they have shown they have the ability to evolve (examples coming later in the post).

Not all abusers can learn from their mistakes; some are just too far gone and don’t see their actions as wrong. But some can, and I believe Nesta is one of those who can. My reason for this belief comes from reading ACOWAR.

1.) Nesta holds herself back from saying something insulting to Mor after she says something in a rude tone to her, and instead approaches Feyre. This shows that a) She’s learning to hold her tongue instead of saying something stupid, and b) She says something nice to Feyre, which she wouldn’t have done two books ago. I’m not saying her being nice to Feyre makes up for how she acted towards her before, but the point is to show that Nesta is now uplifting Feyre instead of tearing her down.

“Where is he?”

“Who?” Rhys crooned.

“Cassian.”

I didn’t think I’d ever heard his name from her lips. Cassian had always been him or that one. And Nesta had been … pacing in the foyer.

As if she was worried.

I opened my mouth, but Mor beat me to it. “He’s busy.”

I’d never heard her voice so … sharp. Icy.

Nesta held Mor’s stare. Her jaw tightened, then relaxed, then tightened—as if fighting some battle to keep questions in. Mor didn’t drop her gaze.

. . . . .

“Mor was watching both carefully—the warning she’d given my sister ringing silently between them. And Nesta, Mother damn it all, seemed to remember. Seemed to rein in whatever words she’d been about to spit and just approached me.

And nearly made my heart stop dead with shock as she said, “You look beautiful.”

2.) Nesta didn’t know Feyre couldn’t read, so if I see one more post using “Nesta didn’t teach Feyre how to read,” as another example of how Nesta abused her, I’ll scream. There are a lot of other examples to show her abuse, but not this one. Nesta clearly wanted to teach Feyre how to read if she knew she couldn’t. 

“I didn’t know you couldn’t really read,” Nesta said as she paused before a nondescript section, noticing the way I silently sounded out the words of a title. “I didn’t know where you were in your lessons—when it all happened. I assumed you could read as easily as us.”

“Well, I couldn’t.”

“Why didn’t you ask us to teach you?”

I trailed a finger over the neat row of spines. “Because I doubted you would agree to help.”

Nesta stiffened like I’d hit her, coldness blooming in those eyes. She tugged a book from a shelf. “Amren said Rhysand taught you to read.”

My cheeks heated. “He did.” And there, deep beneath the world, with only darkness for company, I asked, “Why do you push everyone away but Elain?” Why have you always pushed me away?

Some emotion guttered in her eyes. Her throat bobbed. Nesta shut her eyes for a moment, breathing in sharply. “Because—”

2b) The reason why I highlighted the last part is because I think Nesta is showing shame here. I think she is ashamed of what she did, and she can’t be ashamed of her actions unless she knows her actions were wrong. Like I said up top, an abuser who can’t change is one who doesn’t see their actions as wrong; Nesta sees her actions as wrong.

3.) When they’re running from the Ravens the King of Hybern sent to kidnap Nesta, we see a moment of trust between the sisters that I don’t think we’ve ever seen anywhere else in the entire series. I love this because it highlights their growing trust in one another.

“I gripped Nesta’s fingers in my free hand. She glanced at me.

I need you to trust me, I tried to convey to her.

Nesta read the emotion in my eyes—and gave the barest dip of her chin.”

4.) In that cabin, Nesta basically left Feyre to fend for herself. In this excerpt of them escaping the Ravens, you see Nesta not wanting to leave Feyre. 

“Run toward the light,” I breathed to Nesta. “I’ll hold them off.”

“No.”

. . . . . 

We didn’t have time—for whatever was down here to find us. We didn’t have time—

“Run,” I breathed. “Please.”

She hesitated.

“Please,” I begged her, my voice breaking.”

5.) So many people try to shit on Nesta for trying to cross the wall but not actually crossing it because she couldn’t find a hole, which I think is so stupid cause it’s not her fault if she couldn’t find one. You can tell from this quote that even the simple act of trying meant the world to Feyre, so I hate it when people try to diminish what she did.

“Rhys stared her down. But Nesta looked to me—and I could have sworn fear shone there, and guilt and … some other feeling. “You told me to run.”

“You’re my sister,” was all I said. She’d once tried to cross the wall to save me.”

5b) An extra scene from ACOTAR to show ya’ll just how much this meant to Feyre:

“My hands slackened at my sides. “You went after me,” I said. “You went after me—to Prythian.”

“I got to the wall. I couldn’t find a way through.”

I raised a shaking hand to my throat. “You trekked two days there and two days back—through the winter woods?”

She shrugged, looking at the sliver she’d pried from the table. “I hired that mercenary from town to bring me a week after you were taken. With the money from your pelt. She was the only one who seemed like she would believe me.”

“You did that—for me?”

Nesta’s eyes—my eyes, our mother’s eyes—met mine. “It wasn’t right,” she said again. Tamlin had been wrong when we’d discussed whether my father would have ever come after me—he didn’t possess the courage, the anger. If anything, he would have hired someone to do it for him. But Nesta had gone with that mercenary. My hateful, cold sister had been willing to brave Prythian to rescue me.

“What happened to Tomas Mandray?” I asked, the words strangled.

“I realized he wouldn’t have gone with me to save you from Prythian.”

And for her, with that raging, unrelenting heart, it would have been a line in the sand.

I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn’t stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory … Who had shrouded the loss of our mother, then our downfall, in icy rage and bitterness, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared—beneath it, she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally. “Tomas never deserved you anyway,” I said softly.

My sister didn’t smile, but a light shone in her blue-gray eyes. “Tell me everything that happened,” she said—an order, not a request.

So I did.

And when I finished my story, Nesta merely stared at me for a long while before asking me to teach her how to paint.”

5c) Remember how in the beginning of ACOTAR Nesta insulted Feyre’s paintings? A couple hundred pages later she just asked Feyre to teach her. Nesta was already progressing (albeit at a snails pace I know) in ACOTAR, before anything had really happened.

6.) Back to ACOWAR, in this excerpt Nesta is asking Feyre why she didn’t hesitate going into the Battle of Adriata. I think the reason Nesta asks this question is because in the cabin, Nesta thought Feyre was trying to help their family in order to gain power over them, rather than an act of selflessness. It forces Nesta to think about her actions in the past, and, in the hopes of doing better, she decides to go to the High Lords meeting with them to fight alongside them. Feyre’s selflessness inspired Nesta to do better, and Nesta took the opportunity to do so. This is growth.

“Nesta only spoke when I rose to my feet. “You’re going to that meeting in two days.”

“Yes.”

I braced myself for whatever she intended to say.

Nesta glanced toward the front windows, as if still waiting, still watching.

“You went off into battle. Without a second thought. Why?”

“Because I had to. Because people needed help.”

Her blue-gray eyes were near-silver in the trickle of morning light. But Nesta said nothing else, and after waiting for another moment, I left, winnowing up to the House for my flying lesson with Azriel.”

. . . . .

“I felt Cassian’s attention slide to us, felt them all look as Nesta said, “I’m going with you.”

No one said anything.

Nesta only lifted her chin. “I …” I’d never seen her stumble for words. “I do not want to be remembered as a coward.”

“No one would say that,” I offered quietly.

“I would.” Nesta surveyed us all, her gaze jumping past Cassian. Not to slight him, but … avoid answering the look he was giving her. Approval—more. “It was some distant thing,” she said. “War. Battle. It … it’s not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means … telling them what happened.”

“You’ve given enough,” I said, my dress rustling as I braved a solitary step toward her. “Amren claimed you were close to mastering whatever skill you need. You should stay—focus on that.”

“No.” The word was steady, clear. “A day or two delay with my training won’t make any difference. Perhaps by the time we return, Amren will have decoded that spell in the Book.” She shrugged with a shoulder. “You went off to battle for a court you barely know—who barely see you as friends. Amren showed me the blood ruby. And when I asked you why … you said because it was the right thing. People needed help.” Her throat bobbed. “No one is going to fight to save the humans beneath the wall. No one cares. But I do.” She toyed with a fold in her dress. “I do.”

7.) In front of the entire IC and all the High Lords, Nesta makes it clear that she wouldn’t have survived those years in the cabin without her sister. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is the first time she’s ever even acknowledged or spoken about it.

“She looked to Kallias and Viviane. “I am sorry for the loss of those children. The loss of one is abhorrent.” She shook her head. “But beneath the wall, I witnessed children—entire families—starve to death.” She jerked her chin at me. “Were it not for my sister … I would be among them.”

My eyes burned, but I blinked it away.”

8.) When Nesta senses something wrong at the High Lords meeting, she comes so close to saying she cares for Feyre, and cares for her safety. Cause really, the only person there who she would admit to caring about would be her sister (I know Cassian is there but she wouldn’t have admitted that lets be honest lmao). Also, in the first book Nesta was very selfish and only cared (outwardly) about herself and Elain. We see her being selfless here. 

“Something is wrong,” Nesta insisted.

“I’m not doubting you feel that way but … If none of the others are picking it up—”

“I am not like the others.” Her throat bobbed. “We need to leave.”

“I can send you back to Velaris, but we have things to discuss here—”

“I don’t care about me, I—”

9.) Book one Nesta wouldn’t pick up a pinky to help anyone or anything, but in ACOWAR she basically becomes a medic. She gets her hand dirty.

“No, Nesta only made sure that Elain was dozing in her tent, and then offered to help cut up linen for bandages.”

. . . . .

“How do I fix it?” she asked. Her hair had been tied in a loose knot atop her head earlier in the day, and in the hours that we’d worked to ready and distribute supplies to the healers, through the heat and humidity, stray tendrils had come free to curl about her temple, her nape. Faint color had stained her cheeks from the sun, and her forearms, bare beneath the sleeves she’d rolled up, were flecked with mud.

. . . . .

“I helped with the wounded long into the night, Mor and Nesta working alongside me.“

10.) When Nesta was pacing outside of the tent waiting to hear about Cassian’s condition, Mor attacks her again for literally caring about his well being. And Nesta, again, bites her tongue, says nothing, and walks away. I’m currently working on another post that goes in depth about the relationship between Nesta and Mor, but the point of this excerpt is to highlight how Nesta’s immediate response is to no longer bite back when someone comes after her. That being cold and bitchy all the time isn’t worth it (although I do think Nesta would be in the right here to say something back if she wanted to).

“I squinted at the watery light—the very last before true dark. When my vision adjusted … Nesta stood by the nearest tent, an empty water bucket between her feet. Her hair a damp mess atop her mud-flecked head. Watching us emerge, grim-faced—

“He’s fine. Healed and awake,” I said quickly.

Nesta’s shoulders sagged a bit.

She’d saved me the trouble of hunting her down to ask her about tracking the Cauldron. Better to do it now, with some privacy. Especially before Amren arrived.

But Mor said coldly, “Shouldn’t you be refilling that bucket?”

Nesta went stiff. Sized up Mor. But Mor didn’t flinch from that look.

After a moment, Nesta picked up her bucket, mud caked up to her shins, and continued on, steps squelching.” 

11.) When the sisters slept beside each other after Elain was saved, Feyre points out how different they sleep now. Instead of fighting with one another over the space, they held onto each other. This symbolizes their growing togetherness and how before, they were against each other, and now, they’re a team.

“A moment later, another warm body nestled on my left. Nesta’s scent drifted over me, fire and steel and unbending will.

Distantly, I heard Rhys usher everyone out—to join him in checking on Azriel, now under Thesan’s care.

I didn’t know how long my sisters and I lay there together, just like we had once shared that carved bed in that dilapidated cottage. Then—back then, we had kicked and twisted and fought for any bit of space, any breathing room.

But that morning, as the sun rose over the world, we held tight. And did not let go.”

12.) Nesta tells them to use her as bait to get the King of Hybern away from the cauldron. Literally a suicide mission. Probably the most selfless act she’s done this entire series.

Nesta stared toward that armada, toward our father fighting in it. “Use me. As bait.”

I blinked at the same moment Cassian said, “No.”

Nesta ignored him. “The king is probably waiting beside that Cauldron. Even if you get there, you’ll have him to contend with. Draw him out. Draw him far away. To me.”

13.) Nesta doesn’t stop fighting the King of Hybern after already spending all her power trying to do so. She starts to lure him away from Cassiand and the cauldron in order to buy Feyre more time.

“Nesta rushed to him, kneeling.

Not to comfort.

But to pick up his Illyrian blade.

Cassian tried to stop her as she stood. As Nesta lifted that sword before the King of Hybern.

She said nothing. Only held her ground.

The king chuckled and angled his own blade. “Shall I see what the Illyrians taught you?”

He was upon her before she could lift the sword higher.

Nesta jumped back, clipping his sword with her own, eyes flaring wide. The king lunged again, and Nesta again dodged and retreated through the trees.

Leading him away—away from Cassian.

She managed to draw him another few feet before the king grew bored.

In two movements, he had her disarmed. In another, he struck her across the face, so hard she went down.

Cassian cried out her name, trying again to crawl to her.

The king only sheathed his sword, towering over her as she pushed off the ground. “Well? What else do you have?”

Nesta turned over, and threw out a hand.

White, burning power shot out of her palm and slammed into his chest.

A ploy. To get him close. To lower his guard.

Her power sent him flying back, trees snapping under him. One after another after another.

The Cauldron seemed to settle. All that was left—that was it. All that was left of her power.”

14.) Do I even have to say it?

“Nesta surged to her feet, staggering across the clearing, blood at her mouth from where he’d hit her, and threw herself to her knees before Cassian. “Get up,” she sobbed, hauling at his shoulder. “Get up.”

He tried—and failed.

“You’re too heavy,” she pleaded, but still tried to raise him, fingers scrabbling in his black, bloodied armor. “I can’t—he’s coming—”

“Go,” Cassian groaned.

Her power had stopped hurling the king across the forest. He now stalked toward them, brushing off splinters and leaves from his jacket—taking his time. Knowing she would not leave. Savoring the awaiting slaughter.

Nesta gritted her teeth, trying to haul Cassian up once more. A broken sound of pain ripped from him. “Go! ” he barked at her.

“I can’t,” she breathed, voice breaking. “I can’t.”

The same words Rhys had given him.

Cassian grunted in pain, but lifted his bloodied hands—to cup her face. “I have no regrets in my life, but this.” His voice shook with every word. “That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.”

She didn’t stop him as he leaned up and kissed her—lightly. As much as he could manage.

Cassian said softly, brushing away the tear that streaked down her face, “I will find you again in the next world—the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.”

The King of Hybern stepped into that clearing, dark power wafting from his fingertips.

And even the Cauldron seemed to pause in surprise—surprise or some … feeling as Nesta looked at the king with death twining around his hands, then down at Cassian.

And covered Cassian’s body with her own.

Cassian went still—then his hand slid over her back.

Together. They’d go together.

I will offer you a bargain, I said to the Cauldron. I will offer you my soul. Save them.

“Romantic,” the king said, “but ill-advised.”

Nesta did not move from where she shielded Cassian’s body.”

15.) Nesta killed the King of Hybern. Killed their biggest foe, the person who was going to rip apart their entire world. I know Elain stabbed him, but as she herself put it:

“Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

Elain studied the trees ahead. “Nesta did. I just stabbed him.”

16.) And finally, Nesta walks in side by side with Feyre into the treaty meeting. This also symbolizes the bond they’ve been forming with each other, that goes beyond just sisterhood.

“I offered my hand to my sister. “I want you here for this. With me.”

Nesta considered that outstretched hand. For a moment, I thought she’d walk away.

But she slid her hand into mine, and together we walked into that room crammed with humans and Fae. Both parts of this world. All parts of this world.”

All these examples show a different Nesta than the Nesta in book one. She has become selfless, more aware of her own actions, and grown up. 

To close this out, it was so painful reading ACOFAS because of the regression of Nesta and Feyre’s relationship when they were going down such a good path. I think the reason why SJM made Nesta go down an even darker hole than Feyre (not trauma wise, I’m not comparing the two, but recovery wise) is because she wanted to show another example of how trauma can have an effect on people. 

All of the IC are still healing, but they’re all healing relatively the same way, ie. surrounding themselves with each other and going about business as usual. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, if it works for them then thats amazing. 

But it’s disappointing when I read people vilify Nesta for not healing the same way, and not wanting to interact with the IC, or for distancing herself from her sisters. Like, it’s obvious she’s hurting, and I don’t even think she knows how to heal herself or knows what to do. People who are severely depressed don’t know how to get out of it, so calling her a bitch for not wanting their help is so tone deaf and narrow minded. No one is a terrible person for pushing people away. The girl has just literally become a shell of herself.

When people say Nesta stans are “glorifying abuse” because they like Nesta, it’s sad because they really just relate to Nesta’s depression. They relate to her feeling devoid of feeling, and relate to how she pushes those closest to her away because she doesn’t know how to deal with her pain. Most importantly, they saw all of the examples I listed when reading, and saw Nesta growing and evolving, and they want to see her become a better person. They want to see her fight and confront her own demons. 

It’s not about discarding her abusive behavior. It’s about confronting it and hoping she learns and grows from it.

[narukoibito]

5. “Can I pet your dog?” “Do I know you?”

This took forever, but I am finally responding to your lovely prompt request @clarensjoy from months ago! It’s, uh. Let’s just say I don’t know why my mind took it this way, but hope it doesn’t disappoint. 

*

Harry woke up as he always did, curled on his right side, his hand stretched out to the left side of the bed. He blinked away the fuzziness in his head and the soft aching in his chest, staring at the empty expanse of sheets.

Like every other day, he rolled onto the other side, his fingers blindly fumbling for his glasses on his end table. When he put them on, his spare bedroom came into focus.

Harry laid on his back, gazing at the grey ceiling for a moment, trying to recall what he had been dreaming of. As usual, whatever it had been, it was gone, leaving only a lingering wistfulness that was already beginning to fade. He rubbed the strange oval-shaped scar on his chest, absently glancing over to the left side of his bed. He never seemed to roll over to the other side, despite how he’d simply needed a larger bed.

Any further thoughts were scattered the moment Snuffles leapt onto him, knocking all rumination and breath out of him.

“Ooof,” Harry groaned, despite the grin that stretched on his face as the large black dog began lapping its master’s face eagerly. “Hey, hey, good morning to you too, you big oaf. Ok, got it, let’s go.”

He laughed as he struggled to get Snuffles off of him so they could get on with the day. Let the dog out to the yard, put food out, shower, then a walk.

Harry took the same route he always did, stopping by his favorite bakery, a cozy place called The Burrow. He thanked the tall ginger with a friendly smile for the coffee and a treacle tartlet.

Like every other morning, he headed to the nearby park. Snuffles tended to get overexcited, so Harry kept a close hold on the leash. He sipped his coffee, amused by how his dog treated every new scent with such vigorous curiosity. He let his mind drift to the latest case he was working on. He had a meeting with a Miss Granger later. He wondered about the rumors about her brilliance as a lawyer — Harry certainly hoped she’d be able to help them put away this Rowle character away for good.

He was about to take a bite of his treacle tartlet when out of the corner of his eye, a blur of red caught his eye. His breath laugh in his throat. 

The runner in the was absolutely stunning. She was leaning over, stretching her legs, her red hair tumbling down her shoulders, hiding her face. She was incredibly fit, without a doubt, but there was something about her that made him feel like the world was slowing down like he was standing in molasses.

An inexplicable feeling swelled in him.

Harry was jolted back to reality when his left arm was yanked forward, his treacle tartlet jostled out of his right hand and splattering on the ground.

“Snuffles!” He let out a colorful litany of swears as his dog suddenly broke away from his leash.

Harry began running after him, realizing with slow, dawning horror as his dog went straight toward the woman he had clearly been staring at. Deep, searing mortification beyond belief flooded him as the large dog leapt onto the gorgeous redhead.

His face burned hotter than a thousand suns when the stupid mutt began to make humping motions. “Christ — I’m so sorry! Get off, Snuffles!”

As usual, his dog didn’t listen to him.

Much to his relief, she didn’t seem too perturbed. Her bright laughter sent pleasant shivers down Harry’s spine. With surprising strength despite her small size, she heaved Snuffles off of her.

“Sit,” she said with confidence and just enough force, clearly more than able to handle herself. Snuffles immediately complied, sitting obediently, despite his completely unrepentant face, his pink tongue out and his tail wagging eagerly.

She pushed the long curtain of fiery red hair out of her face to look up at him. His breath caught in his throat at the warm, sparking brown eyes that met his. Her lips quirked up. “This may be a little late, but can I pet your dog?”

Something dormant in his chest came roaring to life with such force, his knees buckled. Blood pounded in his ears as his vision swayed.

He felt strong hands holding him steady. The gentle scent of flowers washed over him, making the ache and relief in his chest nearly unbearable. When he finally opened his eyes, her face was close — close enough that he could see splattering of freckles across her nose, the concern and flecks of amber in her brown eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice seeming to tickle the back of his mind.

“Do I know you?” Immediately, he stiffened with embarrassment. Where had that come from? First his dog had practically sexually harassed her, and now his ridiculous mouth malfunctioned and threw what surely must seem like a foolish pick-up line on her. “Shite, I’m sorry, I can…”

But whatever he was going to say drifted away as he watched her eyes widened, but rather of seeing the expected dismay, hope seemed to flicker in them. Harry’s heart stuttered with what seemed to be a similar feeling.

“Are you ready?”

“What?” he said dumbly.

“This is the first time I’ve appeared.”

His eyebrows furrowed at her words, none of it making any sense. Everything around them seemed to fade away.

“Every day, there’s been Sirius, then Hermione, then Ron. But now… Does this mean you’re ready?” She continued to search his face, even as his mind drew a blank despite the panic that surged through him.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Harry confessed, feeling as if the ground were going to be pulled from underneath him. He clung to her. For some inexplicable reason, she seemed like the only real thing in the world.

Her hand tightened over his, a blazing look taking over her features. “You’ll be okay. You can wake up now.”

Everything inside him seemed to be shaking.

“I…” He couldn’t explain the fear that overtook him. “I can’t.”

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

He didn’t know her name, but how could he not? “Yes.”

“It’ll be okay, Harry.” She gave him that smile that made a part of him melt. “Just wake up.”

Her words made no sense. Wasn’t he already?

A wave of dizziness overtook him once more. He closed his eyes as his head and vision spun, his hand holding hers like a lifeline.

Gravity and everything around him seemed to fall away. He clenched his jaw, waiting for the impact, the only thing keeping him tethered was her hand in his. Then —

His entire body jolted.

“Harry!”

The hand that held his let go, and in a blind panic, he opened his eyes. There she was, kneeling by his bedside, her concerned brown eyes searching his. Her hand cupped his face.

He automatically leaned into her touch, taking a steadying breath of her floral fragrance.

“Ginny,” Harry said softly, memories of her swarming his mind. Ginny Weasley, his best friend’s sister, his long-time girlfriend, no — his heart skipped a beat — his fiancé. How could he ever forget her? Her arms enveloped him as they sank back into the bed. He let out a grunt at her weight, but held her tightly to him, having no intention of letting her go.

“Harry,” she breathed into his neck, her voice wavering ever-so-slightly. “Oh thank Merlin.”

“Ron?” he asked, the mission slowly coming back to him, along with a building headache. “The others?”

“Fine, they’re all fine,” she assured him.

She moved away to retrieve his glasses, which gave him the opportunity to take in her appearance closer. His heart clenched at the sight of the darkness under her eyes, the way her freckles stood out against her pallid complexion.

“How long?” he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Ginny gave him a bracing smile. “A week. The Healers said you were fine, but that your magic was keeping in a deep sleep until–”

“Until I was ready,” he finished, thinking of the words that dream Ginny had said to him. He reached over to take her hand, wondering at whether she had been here by his side the entire time. The armchair pulled up next to the bed seemed to be a likely indicator. “I’m sorry…”

She shook her head and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Then his mind starting doing the math. One week, which meant —

Harry pulled her close and buried his face in her comforting hair. “Well, I couldn’t very well miss our anniversary, could I?”

Ginny let out a surprised laugh, curling against him. “You softie. Did you come back just for me?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry traced a finger over the ring on her left hand, remembering his last moments, the feel of her lips on his, the hope of someone to return to. “I always will."

[misterewrites]

Secret Agent Bard (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here with a new chapter of the underground! Woo! I hope you are all doing good and staying safe.

So I actually have more to say today! That's a trip. I’ll have an author’s note under the line. 

So that's it for now. Stay safe, take care of you and your loved ones, stay out of trouble, wash your hands, wear your mask, get vaccinated if you can and push to release the vaccine world wide cuz we're all in this together. Have a great week and thanks for reading. I appreciate it and feel free to tell your friends, reblog, drop likes and feedback i love it all. Bye for now and enjoy!

If you want an easier place to read the story cuz tumblr sucks sometimes here’s a link to the chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79541746

The First Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

and since you made it this far here’s a link to all my stories!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Byeeeeee!

Author’s note:  Today’s work will be a little different as there will be singing. The chapter with the bard is gonna have singing? Go figure haha So if you see a sentence in Italics, that means someone is singing. Bold and italics represents various people singing as a group. The song in question is called twiddles. There's different versions of it but the one I chose is from the misbehavin maidens. Great group but all their work ranges from innuendos to straight up not safe for work so listen at your peril. I have now completed my responsible adult duties haha. here’s a link to the chosen song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS1-_fKF5ug

Summary: Oliver has quite the task ahead of him as the group splits to achieve their goals. Leading Sel and Flora, the young bard will have to think quick on his feet to ensure this mission is a success. Luckily he's an old hand at this. Ironically the one person who could distract him may make a surprise appearance tonight.

-----

Oliver stood quietly, arms crossed and his mind thoughtful as the group prepared to go their separate ways. While ideally nothing would go wrong, that was a childish belief: Every person and robotic being here knew safety was not guaranteed in their line of work.

Even the old man knew the risks.

Oliver hated doing nothing. He thrived when he was busy, focused on whatever task required his attention whether it be being a better bard or upholding the Choir’s values. Too many ghosts and regrets lingered on the edges of his mind and he found the best solution was to simply keep occupied.

But that was his coping mechanism, not everyone else. He knew better than to rush his team: The party would last at least another few hours and beside the goal of getting Sel to the third floor, there was nothing else to do. No information to gather, nothing to review. Let them have their moment, it was good for morale.

Terri and Flora were sickeningly adorable: Hands clasped tightly with Terri tearfully asking her girlfriend to not poison everyone. Flora gave a halfhearted promise while as they shared a tender kiss. Terri noticed her less than enthused tone but refused to press the matter further.

Tyrell stood awkwardly to the side, his face twisted in a strange mixture of sick and excited. He fidgeted with something in his pocket, seeking comfort from whatever lay within. Given the shape of the bulge and size, Oliver guessed it was a knife.

Sel stood nearby, motionless in the shadows of the alley. They hadn’t moved in some time though he suspected the automaton was simply waiting for the next phase of the plan.

“Alright” Oliver spoke up, his voice firm yet gentle “Times up. You have your assignments?”

Uneven murmuring responded.

“Let’s go.”

Oliver, Sel and Flora went down one end of the alley, Terri and Tyrell disappearing in the opposite direction.

-----

It didn’t take long for the trio to find the main streets of the Merchant Ward and make their way towards the Brambleoak banking office. The crowds weren’t as thick as they had been during the day but Oliver knew everyone out and about did so with a purpose.

“Bard.” Flora asked without warning, breaking the awkward silence “Question.”

“Answer.” Oliver cheekily replied.

Flora glared.

Oliver coughed “Yes?”

“You are a First Chair Soprano correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yet you are so young. How did you manage that? I thought First Chair ranks were only reserved for experienced or particularly skilled members. You don’t seem to be very magically powerful.”

Oliver paused for a moment, trying to best answer the question.

In a way Flora was correct in her assessment: He wasn’t particularly powerful as a spellcasting bard. Unlike Flora who clearly committed herself fully to nature and thus druidic magic, Oliver had only recently thrown himself into the magical arts.

Unless you were a wizard who studied the secrets of the universe with a very intimate and well versed knowledge of magic, most spellcasters drew their power from sources of existence: Clerics from their gods, Druids from nature, Warlocks from something beyond mortal existence yet not quite a deity, sorcerers because a family member fucked around with pure incomprehensible concepts. Magic was the fabric of the universe and the more you threw yourself into a source of power, the more the source threw itself into you, guiding your hand and your spells.

Of course each, wizards exempt, were limited in their spellcasting options. Clerics were powerful holy/unholy practitioners but couldn’t command plant life to save their lives. Druids were in tune with nature and the weather and all the lovely flora and fauna but ask them to superimpose an image onto something and they’d give you a dumbfounded look. Warlocks kinda just do whatever their sugar patrons felt like lending.

Magic bards drew their power from the arts: Drawing, singing, poetry, even witty and funny satire. Bards were in tune with life, with existence. Art could heal, could hurt, could make you feel happy and sad. It could make you feel like a whole new person or perhaps take you to a time and place you’d forgotten. Bards sung the song of life and Oliver was no exception.

However, Oliver still wasn’t sure what he could do exactly. His magical muscle was average on a good day and he could only cast a few spells before needing a good night’s rest. The basic healing spells and comprehension language he cast earlier today had taken a good chunk of his energy but he relied more on his wit than raw magical strength. He discovered creative and useful ways to cast his spells like amplifying dissonance noises to distract and disorient foes or temporarily place another person’s image over himself. Magic was as much about creativity as it was skill, pushing the limits of what you can do with your particular brand of spells.

“I’m clever.” Oliver answered honestly “The whole magic of the arts is new to me but I’ve been in the Choir for a long time now. I used to be Tenor like Sel here but more fast talking than breaking and entering. I guess they carried over my old position into my new one.”

Flora nodded, satisfied “That answers much. How long have you been a bard?”

“Few years now.” Oliver checked the street sign to ensure they were on the right path “The magic part is going on 3 years.”

“I see.” Flora scratched her chin “I’ve been a druid my whole life so it is a strange concept to be so new to the spellcasting arts yet hold such a high rank.”

Oliver gave a casual shrug “Not sure what you want me to say. We’re here by the way.”

The bank looked as unkempt as Oliver had remembered: Faded, peeling green paint with gaudy gray stone pillars. Two guards in green uniforms stood in front of the massive reddish brown doors that led into the bank.

“Lea’s mercenaries.” Sel pointed out “They are not letting anyone in.”

“Correction.” Oliver brushed off nonexistent dirt from his washed-out outfit “They’re not letting nobodies in. Luckily tonight we’re somebodies. Follow my lead.”

Oliver let out a tense breathe before strolling forward, his mannerism cocky yet unsteady. He reached the top of the steps when two sharp looking blades reached out to stop him.

“Halt” The elvish woman spoke with a hint of irritation “You lost?”

“Not at all!” Oliver beamed with a smile that was too wide to be natural “I’m here for the party. There is a party inside no?”

“No” The human man spat out.

Oliver gave a forgetful grin “Oh? I could’ve sworn Brambleoak was having some sort of charity event tonight. I’d show you my invite but I think I misplaced it.”

The elvish woman sneered “Right. How convenient for you having lost your special one of a kind invite.”

“Pfft.” Oliver scoffed “Special one of a kind invite? Reiner hands them out like candy. Probably find one in a gutter nearby.”

The guards shared an unspoken understanding with one another.

“Well.” The human began “Let’s pretend that is true.”

“It is but go on.”

The human’s eyes narrowed “Why should we let you in? You dress rather poorly for someone claiming to be in Reiner’s usual circles.”

Oliver let out an exaggerated gasp as he puffed out his chest “Do you know who I am?”

“Umm no.”

Oliver growled unhappily, his fist clenched tightly within his pocket “I am rich! I AM POWERFUL! AND I DEMAND ACCESS!”

As quick as lightning, Oliver flung a handful of gold coins towards the pair. The two reeled back in surprised as the money clanked onto the smooth marble floor. A moment hardly passed before the guards were shoving the loose coins into their tunic pockets like hungry dogs. They straightened up, eyes alive with greed.

“Of course sir” The elvish woman bowed her head in apologize “Deeply sorry for that.”

“Please go ahead.”

Oliver gave a self satisfied nod before moving past the pair only to stop as he heard the sounds of swords scraping each other. He turned backwards to see the guards barring access to Flora and Sel.

Flora looked back and forth between the guards, her eyes calculating and cold. Sel stood still but clearly at the ready for any sort of trouble.

“They’re with me.”

The Elvish woman shook her head “We said we’d let you in. These two? Definitely not Reiner’s usual prey.”

“They aren’t” Oliver admitted “But I need them.”

The human turned to him, suspicion in his eyes “Why?”

“She…” Oliver pointed lazily towards Flora “Is my street doctor.”

“Street doctor? As in….?”

Oliver gave a cheery wink “The fun kind.” And for give measure, he added a weak shiver to his act “Ugggggh I feel cold, are you cold? It’s cold.”

Before anyone could say anything, Oliver began shaking. He rubbed his hands for ‘warmth’ while swaying back and forth.

“Uh oh.” Flora spoke dully, pushing past the guards and holding Oliver steady “He’s crashing. I need to give him his umm medicine.”

“Medicine?” Oliver repeated, his voice soft yet manic “Yes medicine. I need it. I NEED IT!”

Folks began to turn their way, the guards shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention they were receiving.

“And this one?” The Elvish woman gestured to Sel.

Oliver began to rock back and forth, his voice a harsh whisper. “Guard. Guard. Guard guard guard guard.”

The human threw up his hands in defeat “Bah! Get him in there and fixed! Any trouble and I’ll personally come over to beat your asses.”

“Thank you sir.” Flora murmured through gritted teeth. She guided Oliver and Sel through the doors and into the party within.

Flora sighed as Sel cracked the tension out of their fingers. Oliver straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

True to his expectations, the bank had been altered to be suitable for a charity event: Torches lined the walls, casting the building into a bright light. The desks normally found on the floor were gone as to allow a more spacious setting. Oliver counted a handful of guards scattered about, wandering about for any sign of trouble. All except for the lone guard beyond the empty elevated platform who stood in front of the stairway to the upper floors.

“What now?” Flora asked

“Split up. Sel stay close to the door, Flora and I will figure out a distraction.”

“Sounds good.”

And without another word, Oliver was swallowed whole into the crowd.

-----

It had taken an hour for Oliver to figure out what kind of distraction he would need.

The patrols themselves hadn’t been very difficult to plan for: They would move randomly about, keeping an eye on the party and each other. He counted about 6 of them total and each one of them was easily starstruck. At the sign of any disagreement, they would swarm in groups of three and quickly threaten any troublemakers into compliance. However, upon meeting anyone with even the smallest bit of fame, they would subtly motion to each other and make their way as one to the person in question, hoping for a glance or the chance for an autograph.

So the floor guards were no problem but the one standing watch over the door was much more difficult. Evidently Lea was smart enough to give the most important job to the most responsible of his idiots. The stairway guard or Stairy as Oliver labeled him, would not budge at the sign of any trouble. Loud arguments, agitated party goers, a waiter being tripped (sorry it was for science buddy). None of these would pull him from his post. Celebrities wouldn’t either. Any time his buddies motioned to a famous person, he would shrug his shoulders and stay put.

Oliver was beginning to wonder if Flora needed to poison Stairy until he noticed something about half way into his observations: Stairy was a music lover. Specifically a cute girl music lover.

His gaze would wander every time he caught sight of a pretty girl who happened to be too close to him. Oliver wasn’t sure at first so he decided to test his theory. With his pocket change lessened, Oliver noticed how often a girl would catch Stairy’s eye. His attention didn’t shift when they fell in front of him, obviously in distress, or walked slower allowing him to enjoy the view longer but Oliver caught him smiling and tapping his foot when the odd girl would sing. He even staggered away from his door a few steps at a time before catching himself and returning to his post.

So the best distraction would be a girl who could sing and have some level of fame attached to her name.

Oddly specific and Oliver hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to mange that. He was attempting to solve this puzzle when something caught his ear.

“Get off me you mulched dirt licker!”

That rather unique set of cursing could only mean one thing: Flora.

Oliver turned to where he last spotted her and found the young druid being hassled by a tall man in an elegant uniform.

Oliver noticed the guards were looking about, not yet spotting the commutation but aware something was going on. He needed to act first if he wanted to stop Flora deciding to kill everyone in the room.

The bard quickly slipped into the crowd, darting and weaving between any and everyone he could. He saw Flora slip a small vial into her hand as the man towered over her.

“I jus wanna dance.” the man’s words slurred out of his mouth “A pretty thing like yo shou wanna dance”

Flora’s eyes narrowed angrily “For the last time you dried poop stain, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Flora pulled back her hand, prepared to throw the mysterious vial at the drunk’s face.

“Whoa!” Oliver cried out, tightly grasping onto Flora’s wrist “What seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing I can’t solve on my own.” Flora coldly glanced towards the drunken man.

“One sec.”

Oliver eyed the man carefully, absorbing every little detail he could.

He could see the muscles strain against the fabric of his light green tunic so this man worked in something physically laborious. The sheathed sword on his belt weight seemed to throw him off balance with every step. His gaze was unsteady and Oliver could see his pupils dilating wildly.

So this man was physically fit, armed with a sword in a charity event for the rich people and wearing light green tunic while currently drunk.

“You should leave her alone” Oliver said, sarcasm dipping from each word “You are so not her type.”

“So?” The man hiccupped “What’s the big deal?”

“So she’s got a girlfriend you idiot.” Oliver gestured with his hand “Besides you should go before your boss Lea gets here. I’m betting he won’t be happy one of his undercover mercs is currently drunk on the job. Of course I could always tell your captain what’s going on. That’s him over there right?”

Oliver gestured to the closest guard making his way towards the trio. He didn’t look any different than any guards but Oliver noticed his green was a shade darker than the rest. Lea probably used different hues to signify rank in his mercenaries.

The drunk’s face paled as he fidgeted nervously. He rose his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the two “Sorry.”

“Any trouble?” The captain approached, his hand tightly held around the hilt of his blade.

Oliver beaned cheerfully, trying his best to pull attention away from the fuming Flora “Not at all my good sir. This man simply mistook us for someone else, correct?”

The drunk nodded slowly “My bad. Forgive my intrusion.”

The captain gave a cold smirk “Apologizes. Mikey?”

The drunk flinched “Yes sir?”

“A word in private. Now.”

Oliver let out a sigh of relief as the captain dragged Mikey away..

“You should’ve let me poison them.” Flora muttered darkly.

Oliver scratched the back of his neck tiredly “Night’s still young. Still might get your chance if I can’t figure a way past Stairy.”

Flora tilted her head quizzically “Stairy?”

“The asshole at the base of the stairs.” Oliver answered absentmindedly as he spotted a familiar streak of platinum blonde hair among the crowd of strangers “And I just figured it out. Can I trust you not to poison everyone here?”

“You have an hour. I get bored easily” Flora swirled the sickly purple liquid in the vial threateningly.

“You and me both.” Oliver patted her shoulder before chasing down his perfect distraction.

-----

Oliver’s heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, a nervous and uncontrollable energy overtaking his resolve. The mission was important but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see Maria today.

Maria Thoreau was the daughter of a powerful, influential family. The Thoreau’s were more concerned with their standing in high society than any virtuous endeavors and thus each one of their children was trained from birth to excel in their chosen field. Maria’s older brothers were an aspiring politician and merchant respectively.

Maria’s path was to be a well famous singer and patron of the arts. She wanted nothing more than to sing for the people. Unfortunately, her father only saw a chance to further the family’s good name and tied his desire for power with her passion and dream. It was bittersweet really but nothing much could be done about it.

Yet.

Maria knew Oliver as a musical rival who thwarted her group’s attempts at winning local competitions which in turned derailed her father’s plans. So needless to say she was less than thrilled when she caught him making his way over.

“Ollie” she forced a smile while her hazel eyes narrowed, peeved “I’m surprised to see they let you into this exclusive event.”

Oliver gave a cocky shrug “Well your beauty caught my attention and I couldn’t resist trying to figure out a way in.”

Maria’s cheeks burned a pinkish hue.

Maria was the same age as Oliver with short, tastefully cut dark brown hair. A single streak of platinum blonde hair hung off the side of her face, giving her such a cute look. Her clothes were practical tonight since she wasn’t performing: A simple white blouse with a long flowing dark blue skirt that went all the way down to her feet. Her shoes were sensible dark blue flats designed for comfort over style.

Maria coughed into her hand, willing her blush away.

“So.” She cleared her throat “Is this your sad attempt to throw me off my game? You won’t win the next competition. We’ll be dealing with professional judges this time.”

Oliver’s eyes widen in false surprise “There’s a competition here? Fancy that. I hadn’t been made aware of that but since we’re both in town, why not have a round two?”

“Oliver….”

“I mean” Oliver went on, pretending not have heard “You are a much better singer solo than with those harpies you’re forced to keep around.”

Maria glanced to the side timidly “Don’t be absurd, the Melodic Maidens are a perfect, well oiled machine.”

Oliver scoffed dismissively “I suppose they’re nearby, listening in. Hardly leave you alone, don’t they?”

Maria opened her mouth to respond when a shrilly voice cut in.

“What do you know you two bit hack? How much did you bribe the judges last time?!”

Oliver gave a strained smile as the rest of the ladies forced their way into view.

“Lilly, Filly, Sally. You suck.”

The triplets snarled in unison, openly glaring at the bard.

Lilly, Filly and Sally were Maria’s chains: They were as much there to further her career as they were to report back to daddy to ensure the errant daughter stayed on course.

As triplets, they all shared the same features: Three pairs of dull green eyes and long messy black hair. Even their clothing were the same with each wearing a strapless dress that showed way too much skin and skirts that were way too short. The only reason Oliver could tell them apart was due to their preferred colors: Lilly in a shade of pink that was bright for her skin tone, Filly with a pale ugly yellow and Sally in seas of dark red.

The trio surrounded Maria, their arms embracing her in an uncomfortable hug. Maria bit her lip, trying to hide her uneasy.

“Still wearing that tacky outfit huh Ollie?” Lilly eyed his faded clothing distastefully.

Sally let out an unfriendly laugh “Ollie always looks like trash. Not even prize money could buy an ounce of class.”

“Actually” Oliver brushed his shoulder dismissively “Class is cheap. No amount of money could buy an ounce of character. You can blow hot air at me all you want but nothing in this world could ever change the fact that the three of you are bitches.”

The trio clicked their tongues disappointingly, their normally plain faces twisted into unflattering visages of rage while they screamed as one.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT US?!”

“YOU ARE SUCH A POOR TACTLESS MAN!”

“YOU FUCKER!”

Oliver casually waved his hand “All bark and no bite. I’m supposed believe you’ve gotten any better in two months? Last time I checked I won the last competition.”

“OH YEAH?!” The triplets yelled, furious.

Maria threw a suspicious glance Oliver’s way “Girls, I don’t think…”

“Come on Maria, we don’t want to have to tell daddy you backed down from a challenge.”

A shiver ran down her spine, the fight draining out of her face. Oliver felt a tinge of guilt but said nothing as the girls took their positions.

Maria paused for a moment, her breathing slow and calm. The murmur of the crowds grew louder and louder upon the recognition that the ladies nearby were the Melodic Maidens.

Maria pivoted on her heels, a bright warm smile gracing her lips. Oliver could feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft, airy voice beginning to sing

“Oh you hear a lot of stories about the sailors and their sport” Maria gave a playful wink his way. His cheeks burned brightly at her playful banter.

“About how every sailor has a girl in every port”

Maria twirled, her steps mischievous and alluring as her dark blue dress chased after her. She gracefully held two fingers aloft for everything to see, her smirk cocky and assured.

“but if you added two and two you’d figure out right quick”

Maria backed up as the triplets step forward to join her, the group made whole and ready for the chorus.

“It’s just because the girls all have a lad on every ship”

Maria turned to throw a sultry look towards her rival bard but instead of finding a dumbstruck Oliver, she found a smiling one. His gaze was gentle and loving as if he was seeing utterly beautiful. A small smile was tugging at his cheeks. Maria could feel her heart thunder in her ears as, without warning, Oliver gave a thumbs up and mouthed an appreciative “Thanks” before ducking into the growing crowd.

“And it’s twiddley idle idle idle, twiddley idle aye.”

What was once a spattering of folks formed into a massive gathering. Most of the party goers and guards had come over to catch the free show the girls inadvertently given and thus all focus shifted onto them. What was an attempt to show up Oliver ended up being a very unnecessary showcase.

“It’s often times a man will leave you broken with dismay”

Boy was Maria feeling that dismay right now.

-----

Oliver’s plan worked: Stairy hadn’t been to resist the siren call of a beautiful woman and her singing. Luckily the harpies hadn’t ruined it with their imperfect pitches. Stairy hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Sel slipped in behind and began working at the door. It took a moment but one blink later and the automaton vanished out of sight.

Oliver let out a sigh when a hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Hello sir.” A guff, low voice in a less than friendly voice “Might I have a word? You’ve been acting rather strange all party long.”

Well fuck.