#but in his case her influence more like. balanced him. than anything else

[julesnichols]

One day (when I've slept enough to both remember enough to make all of my points and be coherent) I'll explain what I meant when I joked about Sophie being worse

[aidelly]

What makes Elly and Aidan so special to me?

I think we can agree that the bond between Elly/Rachel and Aidan is really strong, unusual, original… and I absolutely love it all the points.

Want more details?

Okay.

Professionally trained agents with a focus on espionage. Partners who worked together and protect each other. They literally fell in love on the battlefield.

They probably knew each other for years. And for years after that, Aidan protected her, at least from afar. He thought of her safety and how not to destroy her hidden memories, even if it took five long years without her.

Elly refused relationships and turned down offers of dates. Subconsciously, she felt she couldn't be with anyone else, though she didn't know why.

Elly still had their song in her life. Her feelings for Aidan were still there.

Aidan triggered the return of her memories (associated with hallucinations) immediately upon their reunion.

He knew how to calm her down in a panic. And she trusted him enough to fall off the roof with him.

Their "are you okay?"

Aidan allowed her to kick his ass (with the possibility of killing him) just so he wouldn't have to hurt her. You could literally see how much he didn't want to hit her, and how much it hurt that he had to do it in self-defense at all.

Elly was not mentally balanced (which is more than understandable in this case). Aidan had such strong feelings for her that they were experiencing a folie à deux [a mental disorder occurring simultaneously in two persons who are in close contact. Induced delusional disorder. If one of the partners becomes ill with psychosis, he can influence the other with his delusions or hallucinations, who will start to share them] in the dance fight scene vs. the camera footage that shows their behavior during a fight scene was exemplary professional. (Cool point by @thesnowybiscuit)

Aidan had always loved her and took the last opportunities to tell her so. Even though she had just tried to kill him under psychic control.

She had always loved him and just a few memories of the last few days had helped her disobey the order while under control. If she was really aiming for his head, breaking the music box wouldn't be enought.

Aidan accepted Alfie, even though he didn't like cats and was allergic to them. It may not sound like a big deal, but it is. (And I think he liked him after all.)

Aidan joined her newly built life. And he loved her, even if she wasn't quite the same as before.

Anything else? If you have some thoughts, feel free to share them.

[tezuze]

Hi I’m gonna rant about Ghost Game for a second

Not to meaning to add to the endless “What the hell happened to Ghost Game????” discourse but uh, yeah I guess I am contributing to that

I have quite a bit to say about my theories on what I think went wrong and what they could’ve done better and why I desperately do not want a season 2 (I know the irony of how that looks on me) but if I wrote all that in one space I think it would be so long that even I would start begging for me to shut up

So, I’m going to split these up into more digestible categories that I’ll write whenever I’m procrastinating

In case I never get around to anything else, I’m going to start with the biggest loss to me, how I think the Digimon were supposed to influence their tamer’s personal growth and visa-versa

I’ll put the rest below the cut before I get outta hand

Hiro and Gammamon: Augh. These two frustrate me the most. So much lost potential in my book, but I would feel weird putting the mc anywhere but the top of the list, so I decided to put them in the order they join the cast and therefore you get my most passionate feelings first.

Almost one of the first things we learn about Hiro as a character is how self-sacrificing he is. He’s your stereotypical mc who wants to help everyone, but the narrative points out that he’s willing to be helpful at the expense of his own wellbeing, which paints his conventionally good trait as a flaw. And that’s about all they touch on in the base show, with a lot of reading between the lines. I would’ve loved to see the ramifications of his self-sacrificing nature and have the cast point out how he’s really harming himself and stretching himself thin just to appease others. I don’t think the “being helpful is good, but not at the expense of your health” moral is touched on enough so I always get excited when stories have that as one of their themes.

And then there’s his partner, Gammamon, the exact opposite of Hiro. He’s needy, dependent, wild, and selfish at the start. He doesn’t care about others (or their belongings). He’s demanding. He’s destructive. He proves to be a handful for our polite little Hiro, especially with his dad missing and this responsibility suddenly thrusted upon him.

I would’ve loved to see Gammamon teach Hiro to be a little more selfish (or at least, more self-preserving), while Hiro teaches Gammamon to be more considerate and tame. Of course, we see Gammamon grow in this way but the story doesn’t really make it clear that it was necessarily Hiro’s doing or give much of a catalyst at all for why Gammamon has personal growth other than it would be troublesome to have such a brat as the main creature. Now, I know that Guilmon’s arc was kinda similar in that they didn’t have direct events or anything that would make him mature, but it still felt more… realistic? Tended to? Idk I’m going to force myself to move on.

Ruli and Angoramon: Honestly just kinda disappointed with the lack of attention these two got in general in comparison to the other pairs, but I digress.

We meet Ruli with the impression that she’s brash, headstrong, and charismatic. She does things her way on a whim. Especially in the first few and select episodes, but in my opinion, it seemed like they kinda pushed her to the background and her personality was very passive and mild at times (and I don’t think that was on purpose).

Similarly to Hiro and Gammamon, Angoramon has quite a few contrasting personality traits. He’s softspoken, knowledgeable, and introspective. When Hiro first meets Angoramon, he doesn’t want to reveal himself because he’s nervous and doesn’t want to be a bother.

I think these two were supposed to balance each other out. Ruli would learn to think about things more and not run in half-cocked, maybe start to appreciate the more slow and peaceful things in life like nature and reading (Yeah Ruli, don’t think I forgot about that scene where Angoramon wanted you to read one of his favorite books and you DIDN’T and never DID). Meanwhile, Angoramon would come out of his shell more from sticking around Ruli. Possibly learn not to be so overbearing? Idk, honestly I don’t think Angoramon has as much room for growth because he seems the most level-headed character in the cast.

Lastly,

Kiyoshiro and Jellymon: Now, I know I have some bias toward these two so it might seem I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt but I’m going to try to come at them as objectively as I can.

They kinda half-executed what I think they were going for with these two, so they don’t offend me as much (which I think is part of the reason why I like them so much), but a full written out arc between them would’ve been a dream.

Kiyoshiro at the beginning of the series is, well, a sniveling inconsolable scaredy cat. On top of that, he’s kind of cocky and stuck up, obsessed with order and somewhat an introvert (to a lesser extent and differently than angoramon, in the “can’t relate to other humans” kinda way). Outside of his flaws, he is at least kind and pure of heart (I mean his name more or less means “pure white”) with a strong sense of justice and morals.

Jellymon, the devil creature, is so chaotic her intro episode goes right for the “everyone is going to die and it’s all Jellymon’s fault” thing. She has her moments of scheming and kinda like Gammamon, is pretty selfish and demanding with hints of Ruli’s recklessness as well.

As far as their canonic growth goes, Jellymon’s the only one that sees the bravery in her darling, which helps him nurture that courage and cast aside some of his fears (which, yay they actually kinda do in the series albeit pretty indirectly and kinda inconsistently). Also, the narrative never outright says Kiyo is lonely but he surely doesn’t have any companions, but we can see him grow on his partner and admit that it’s nice to have such a close friendship (pretty sure the whole “I like humans” thing was directed at Jellymon, even though she’s not human shhhhh it makes sense I promise)

Now for what they didn’t really touch on, I think these two were supposed to break each other’s stubbornness. I think Jellymon was supposed to show Kiyo how to relax more and not become so absorbed in studies/research and such. We meet him already knowing he has a love for anime, idols and the like so I’m not sure if he could really learn the lesson to appreciate more of the little things, but maybe she’d show him to love some more like, people-centered type things? (I mean she does love festivals). On the flip side, I think Kiyo was supposed to use not his classroom knowledge, but his personal knowledge to show Jellymon all there is to love about humanity outside of their monetary worth and give her a genuine love for the human world. Oh yeah, and teach her to stop scamming people.

“”””I’m gOinG tO tRy To LiMiT mY BiAs oN KiYoSHiRo aNd jElLyMoN”””””””” *Proceeds to spend half my rant talking about Kiyoshiro and Jellymon even though I think they did them pretty well*

Anyway, would love to hear other’s opinions on this as well as if it seems like I’m reaching and there weren’t supposed to be arcs like this. I just feel like the characters are too inherently flawed and contrast too perfectly with their Digimon for them not to have intended some more character-centered personal growth arcs.

I’m sorry and thank you for reading my dumb thoughts.

[hellotherekenobi]

LOVE ME AND MEND

02. THE CLIMAX

Chapter Summary: the stage is set, the curtain is drawn, and Qui-Gon’s plan for matchmaking is set in motion.

Word Count: 4.3k

Index: Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Masterlist.

For most of his life, Obi-Wan has considered himself a decent man. A good fighter, a pleasant cohort, and a loyal friend. He aids the lowly and is balanced with the force and, should he rather die, considers his abilities to be noble.

But when he’s around you, he might as well be amongst the seven deadly sins.

He’s more arrogant, haughty, and impulsive. You bring out the worst in him in a way he’s never been with anyone else. Maker help him, you might as well be influenced by the dark side for all of your despicable traits.

And he’s lost his brother, Anakin, to the hand of love. What a fool.

He remembers when Anakin’s drive was to the Order, not to a woman. Granted, Padmé is no mere woman—she’s not only a great friend but a great lady of influential status. Yet, he never thought he’d see the day that Anakin would turn to the dark side, so to speak.

There will never come a day when Obi-Wan will be caught in that web of lies. Love never lasts and he’s not the fool who thinks to fall for it when it comes his way, only to be head under water with no escape.

If he were ever to marry, she would have to be a great deal of many things.

Rich, for one. Living his life devoted to the Order has not given him much weight in his pockets.

Wise as well, to match his intellect.

Virtuous or else he won’t lay a hand on her.

Fair in both appearance and mind.

In all things mild, Maker rest his soul.

Noble, if he can win the hand of such a lady.

An excellent musician, a great dancer, and who has a sweet voice.

Her hair will be… well, whatever pleases her.

But the day he falls in love is a day that will never come, lest he is in the dirt. Many women he’s delighted an eye on and many he’s delighted in other ways, but never with her hand or with his heart.

Now Anakin, once such a fierce Jedi, is no more than an oyster, transformed by love. Never will Obi-Wan be changed in such a way. If it should happen, let everyone laugh at his downfall.

But, oh, he had made such a fool of himself last night. He danced with you and flirted without a sober thought, and now you’re carrying that with you like a scored prize. One which you’re happy in telling others about, seeing as his master had known.

He kicks the pebbles at his feet as he kicks himself mentally for the lack of intuition on his part. Even while intoxicated, he should have been able to feel your signature through the force. It’s a rather distasteful and agonizing presence, so he should know it immediately.

In any case, he’s made sure to stay clear of you and his comrades this morning, instead, walking throughout the gardens as he grumbles to himself. It’s also an excuse to clear his foggy head some since he had woken up with quite a dizzy hangover.

Truthfully, this planet is beautiful. He can admire the lush nature, clear water, and blue sky with peace of mind. It is, in fact, the only beautiful thing he will devote himself to; this vast and extraordinary galaxy he fights for.

If only he can say that he will be fighting alongside his brother in future battles. After their stay here ends, Anakin will be connected to his wife with a red, sturdy string. No sharp blade or fresh saber could cut it in half. Maker rest his soul.

It is typical that as Obi-Wan ponders such matters, he sees in the distance Qui-Gon, Anakin, and Sir Naberrie enter the gardens. Can he not have a moment alone? In his honesty, he has a slightly pounding headache after drinking so much wine last night and the last thing he needs is the loud, joyful voices of a man who’s soon to be married.

No, he will not be dragged back into the reality of this new development, and so he dashes behind the hedges in an effort to hide himself. Anything to avoid that social interaction, yet he has a month of torture left.

When they all walk to where he once was and continue their chatter, Obi-Wan knows they didn’t see him at all. And so he hears them speak whilst he is crouched behind the foliage, mindlessly fonding the leaves as he eavesdrops with no significant intention.

“And her dress?” Jinn asks, obviously continuing whatever they’ve been speaking out.

“I do not know,” Anakin chuckles. “She has a flair for style, so I’m sure it will be impressive.”

“You know, Sir Jinn, that a groom cannot see his bride before the ceremony,” Ruwee says, raising an eyebrow.

“But plans have been made for the dress?”

“Well, she has several handmaidens, sir,”

They laugh and Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. What delight is there in wedding planning, anyway? So much effort and money are wasted on a single day that, in most instances, never lasts for long.

Besides, the dress will be worn for the daytime and never again, and most likely torn for the evening. If there is one thing that interests Obi-Wan in marriage, it most certainly is the wedding night.

“But none of that,” Jinn says, “I am still baffled by what you spoke of over breakfast, Sir Naberrie.”

“Yes,” Anakin says. “I cannot believe it myself.”

With a sigh, Obi-Wan looks around where he is, hoping for something more interesting than a plant to play with since he believes their conversation will go on for a long while. He spots a Shuura tree beside the hedge, so he leans up on one leg to snag a piece of fruit, though it is out of his reach.

“What was it you told us that your niece is in love with Obi-Wan?”

As soon as the words reach his ears, Obi-Wan’s footing slips and his hand falls right past the dangling fruit and him, too, as he goes tumbling to the ground with a weighted oof.

“I never thought that she could love any man,” Anakin says.

“Nor I,” Ruwee agrees. “But she told me herself. You can imagine my surprise!”

“Especially as she seems to detest Kenobi,”

That is, in fact, what Obi-Wan has believed his whole life. Or rather, the whole time that he’s known you. Sometimes it does feel like longer because of how you seem to age him with every word you speak, or spit.

Now, as they say, you’re infatuated with him? He’s completely baffled, lying on the ground and staring up at the sky as if a speeder should fly past and write the truth by the smoke of its engine.

“Perhaps she’s lying?” Anakin suggests, and Obi-Wan scrambles to his feet to peer over the hedge.

“My niece, lie?” Ruwee stands quickly. “She has no room for lying! Everything she says is true and as well in her confession of passion for Sir Kenobi.”

“Really?” Jinn asks, leaning his elbow on his knee. “What confessions?”

“Uh— what confessions?”

“Yes, Sir Naberrie, do tell,”

They ogle at each other and Obi-Wan hopes that one of them will speak fast as his heart is beating faster in anticipation. Now that he’s heard the start, he will hear the end.

“Well… you heard my daughter tell you herself.” Ruwee speaks.

Padmé? So, she knows of it as well. And if you confided in Padmé about something, then it has to be a true matter which you speak.

“Tell me again, for I cannot remember,” Jinn says.

“I cannot say it so outwardly, here—”

Ruwee grabs Jinn by the tunic, pulling him in close. Anakin leans into them, listening with a delighted smile on his face. Damn the distance, now Obi-Wan can’t hear what they’re saying.

He would think it a trick but Ruwee himself declares it and Padmé, too. Your own family. This cannot be a lie. If they have your word and stake their honesty on it, then, wildly, you cannot be lying about how you feel for him.

“She is hopelessly in love!” Anakin whines, turning away from the men who equally look the same.

Ah, blast! What did they say? Obi-Wan is too focused on his own thoughts to hear them clearly, so he sneaks past the hedge he’s behind to dip over to the next one which is closer. Though he stumbles a bit into the bush, they don’t seem to notice.

“Has she told Kenobi how she feels?” Jinn asks.

“Of course not,” Ruwee shakes his head. “She’ll never admit it to him and because of that she’s in torment.”

“Oh, to love unrequited,” Anakin sighs. “She must be in a great deal of pain, especially to keep her feelings hidden for so long. I know that pain.”

“Padmé believes that also. It is very true.”

“Well,” Jinn rolls his shoulders. “It would be best if Kenobi knows of it.”

“No,” Anakin shakes his head, “he would make fun of her feelings and torment the poor lady worse.”

How dare they say such a terrible thing! Yes, you and Obi-Wan have giddily fought with each other since your first meeting, but for them to think so lowly of him that they would agree about him teasing you for your feelings is offensive, to say the least.

He admires anyone who admires him. It is only right that he would be kind regarding it.

“I am sorry for her,” says Ruwee.

“Please, friends,” Jinn reaches out a hand to both of their shoulders. “I think we should tell Obi-Wan and see what he says.”

Yes, do!

“That doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Ruwee says.

Stop being so stubborn!

“No, I know my master too well,” Anakin says. “And if he were to tell her that he doesn’t feel the same way it will kill her.”

“But she’ll die if she tells him the truth and she’ll die if he woos her.”

“There’s no hope,”

There is plenty of hope if they will just put some faith in him. With a snarl, Obi-Wan reaches up to peek over the top of the hedge, watching the scene unfold before his eyes.

“I see your reasoning,” Jinn nods. “If Obi-Wan finds out, he’ll tease her relentlessly. As we all know, he has a contemptible spirit—”

He doesn’t mean for it to be so loud, but Obi-Wan gasps in offence at his master’s words. He realizes it too late, he thinks, when he sees the three men turn their heads to the noise, and he ducks behind the hedge again, mimicking the sound of a Quadduck.

It will get him nowhere, most likely, but it seems it works rather well as his comrades simply ignore the sound and carry on with their conversation.

“I love Obi-Wan well,” Jinn says, “and I wish he would examine himself to see how his pride gets in the way. He’s not worthy of such a humble lady.”

“You speak highly of my niece, I thank you,” Ruwee says. “Now, let’s head inside for dinner. I cannot worry so much on an empty stomach.”

The three of them walk toward the entrance of the garden and when they know they are out of Kenobi’s ear range, they snicker childishly with arms draped around each other.

“If he doesn’t dote on her I will never trust your plans again, master,” Anakin smiles.

“She will need the same push,” Jinn nods his head. “Sir Naberrie, you made sure that your daughter and her handmaiden are ready?”

“Yes, they are waiting at the statue as you instructed,”

“Good. In the meantime, let us send for your niece to call Obi-Wan into dinner.”

“Oh, master!” Anakin laughs behind his hand. “You are a wicked man.”

They all snicker with each other before practically skipping away from the gardens back to the château to find you. If they could tag along, they would. But this is most effective if you go to Obi-Wan alone. Oh, how rich the interaction will be.

When Obi-Wan finally walks out from behind the hedge, one hand on his hip and the other on his head, slightly dragging his feet so that the pebbles under his boots make a sound, he wonders if he’s still drunk and everything that happened was a hallucination.

Or maybe he’s dreaming. In any case, however, he knows he’s awake and if the morning sun did not succeed in it, then the words of his comrades have sobered him up very efficiently.

This can be no trick. Sir Naberrie spoke of your torments so explicitly and they have the word of your cousin, Padmé. Yes, the family and the friends say it to be true.

You love him!

Why?

He’s been so brash with you, so tormenting. So cruel. So… in love. Yes, he knows with certainty that he loves you too. He always has, hasn’t he? After all, his heart races after each merry war between you two and it must be because of his sentiments.

Maybe he did know it was you behind the mask and he let himself hide behind a masking of his own, saying sweet words to you in the only way he knows how.

He never thought he’d marry. He would live and die a bachelor and that would be his life amongst the Order. Now, he sees the picture so clearly in his mind and it’s the most breathtaking image he’s ever seen; you walking down the aisle to marry him.

Yes, your affection will be requited! He will seek you out and tell you plainly that he loves you.

Wait, no. He can’t do that. They had said that you are living in torment with this burning feeling for him and if he were to woo you, you’d die.

This must be natural. Obi-Wan will encourage your feelings for him to the surface. He will be the most respectable gentleman to you, he will compliment you in every way, and he will tell you how he feels in a manner which won’t send you running for the hills.

His comrades say that you are fair and it is true, he can bear the witness. Amazingly, you are everything he’s thought of settling for. Virtuous, indeed. Wise, of course, though in the hindrance of loving him. With a spark of wit, no doubt.

Truthfully, he has been a target for your wit as he has been so unpleasant in the past, but that changes now just as his appetite for marriage is now well received. After all, the world must be peopled.

He cannot believe it but it’s true, as much as you love him, he loves you.

There is a newfound light inside of him when he feels entirely overjoyed that he is cared for so deeply, but when he begins to walk out of the gardens, you step right into it and almost right into his chest as well.

“Oh,” you huff, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

Oh, yes. He can see the marks of love in you.

“Against my will, I have been sent to call you in for dinner,” you say.

Obi-Wan smiles three times wider than usual, his cheeks pinched with delight.

“My lady,” he coos, “I thank you for your pains.”

Clearly, you are not pained in the slightest. Having come all this way, you must have been eager to see him. He doesn’t blame you for he is quite the catch.

Ah, yes, it was inevitable, really, that you would fall for him.

You look him up and down. “I took no more pain in telling you than I did for coming here.”

“You take pleasure, then, in the message?”

“Yes, as much pleasure as you might take upon a saber’s point.”

Laughing loudly at your joke, he nods his head in agreement. You’re an alluring woman, that much is certain. Now he knows the origins of all your ridicule. It is much more heartfelt than mindful than you let on.

“Sir, are you not hungry?” You ask him.

Realizing that he hasn’t responded to you in words, he straightens his posture.

“Oh, no—”

“No? Well then, goodbye,”

You’re turning on your heel before Obi-Wan can correct you and are out of the garden as quickly as you came, and he watches as you march away. By this day, you are a beauty.

What a delicious discovery he has in knowing that you love him. For how long, he is not certain, but he believes with his spirit that you have felt this way since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Against my will, I have been sent to call you in for dinner.

There’s a double meaning in that.

─────── ⋯ ───────

As you stomp your way back to the château, completely confused and irritated about Kenobi’s attitude, you wonder why he didn’t bite back with a quip when you had thrown one at him.

Perhaps he is still tired from the night before, or perhaps he is so hungover that he hasn’t a clue what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. It is still so funny to think that he didn’t realize it was you who he danced with before it was too late.

Interestingly, despite his drunken state, Kenobi led you rather well in the dance before you had to take the reigns and that was only because with an already foggy head, spinning around and around surely made him too dizzy to walk straight.

In another life, you can see him being quite the gentleman. Unfortunately, in this life, he is a rotten scoundrel and you detest men like him. You happen to like nice men.

This morning has been puzzling, to say the least.

First, Sir Jinn had sought you out to find Kenobi—as if he’d be anywhere near you or that you would even care about his whereabouts—but your uncle had asked you kindly to bring him in from the gardens for supper.

Second, he was so polite when you spoke to him. Nothing of that bitter complexion or spiteful tongue. He had let you talk over him, too. Usually, if you speak above him, he’s quick to drag you back down in any way he can.

But your day is becoming even more puzzling when you walk across the terrace and amidst the slapping of your sandals you hear Padmé’s voice.

“Sir Kenobi is sick in love with my cousin,”

Halting at your spot, you feel your heart do the same, going completely still on you. It kicks back to life a moment later when you look over at where your cousin and Sabé sit beside the statue erected in the centre.

“Are you sure?” Sabé asks, and as soon as she turns an inch in your direction, you’re leaping behind the pillar.

“Sir Jinn himself told me and Anakin agrees,” Padmé replies.

Peeping around the corner of the pillar, you watch as your cousin and her handmaiden sit facing each other, as close as two friends would be when discussing a secret.

Surely, this is a secret! To think that Obi-Wan is in love with you seems preposterous. He hates you. There is no room in him for love and he himself has stated that very fact. He’s sworn never to grow attached—as much as it is a rule by the Order—and that the only loving he does is under the sheets.

You shudder to think of him in that scenario and pray for the poor, foolish women who have left disappointed by his fervor.

“Have you told your cousin this?” Sabé asks.

“No,” Padmé shakes her head. “I told them that if they care about their brother then they will encourage him not to say a word,”

How outlandish a suggestion she’s made to Qui-Gon Jinn and her betrothed. Here a man has confessed to being in love with you and your cousin turns him away? All she’s ever wanted is for you to be married or at least to find a suitor, though you’ve been as stubborn as a Fathier in regards to that.

It is baffling you that she is not happy about this. The only reason why you aren’t is that out of all men, it happens to be Kenobi. It’s just your luck.

“Why not?” Sabé inquires, and you nod. “Shouldn’t he deserve the right to tell her?”

“Of course, he deserves the right to admit he’s in love but with my cousin? She has such a prideful heart, she’ll likely break his.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t do that.”

“Face it, Sabé, she cannot love.”

By leaning in closer and closer against the pillar with strong interest, the moment your cousin makes such a remark you slip forward and about fall right in front of them. Fortunately, you gain your footing before you can do so, but have to run to the next pillar over so as not to be seen.

You wait a moment, especially as it’s gone quiet, and hope with every muscle in your body that they haven’t seen you and that you’ll stick to your spot so that they never will. When they continue talking, you know you’re safe. Unbelievably.

“Maybe not in that way,” Sabé sighs, “but we should tell her how he feels.”

“No, instead I will go to Sir Kenobi and tell him to stop doting upon her,”

“No!” You shout, then immediately cover your mouth with your hands, knocking your head back against the pillar because, Caraya’s soul, are you that stupid?

There is no point in hiding now after you’ve just screamed out. They must know that you’re right there and that you’ve been eavesdropping this entire time, but then two of Padmé’s handmaidens come walking across the terrace and wave at them.

Oh, please, think that it was them who had spoken. Maybe you can evade revealment yet.

Sabé and Padmé wave in return to the handmaidens and you let out a breath, believing that they’ve associated the noise with the two girls instead.

As they pass, they notice you pressed up against the pillar as an insect swatted to a wall, and they furrow their brows, but you hastily motion your hand by your neck, waving back and forth, in an effort to let them know not to say a word.

Though they appear confused, they don’t stop to talk to you. They simply look at each other and then back to you again, hesitantly nodding their heads, and disappear around the corner.

Mother of Moons, that was a close one.

“Don’t dishonor your cousin,” Sabé continues now that they’re gone. “She can make up her mind for herself. Besides, she would be a fool to turn down such a man as Sir Kenobi.”

“I agree. He’s the greatest duelist in the Jedi Order. Aside from my dear Anakin, of course. But she’s blind to even that.”

Rolling your eyes, you want to groan aloud but have already risked being found once before and will not let it happen again. Oh, yes, Obi-Wan is a great Jedi, a great fighter, a great pilot, a great master, and so on and so forth. You’ve heard it all before. You’re not blind, you’re just stubborn.

Sabé smiles. “Yes, when will you be married?”

“Tomorrow,” Padmé says happily. “Let us go inside to prepare.”

Well, that’s a rather quick arrangement for a wedding, you think, but you know she’s more than eager for the moment she says her vows and with her happiness, you can’t deny it. As they skip away, it is only proven further.

But here you stand, now slouched against the pillar, and mind reeling with all the information you’ve just learnt within only a few minutes.

Obi-Wan, your loathed, loves you.

He loves you.

You!

Letting out an excited breath, you push yourself off of the pillar and laugh. Not with ill or scorn, but with merriment and bliss. You are loved and not by anyone, but by the man you thought never could love, that he would never dare to, and yet, as sure as your cousin says it, he is enraptured by you.

They say that you are prideful, that you will turn him down, but no, you will only turn down those bitter traits and all your ridiculed quirks. No more will you poke fun at Obi-Wan in the way you have been doing since you met him the first day he arrived on Naboo.

Instead, you will requite his love. You must because you know it to be true, deep within your heart, that you are in love with him fervently.

So, Obi-Wan, love on! You will tame your wild heart to his loving hand. As honest as his feelings are for you, there is all honesty in your zeal to marry him.

To think, the woman who swore off love and the man who swore off marriage, soon to be held in matrimony. It seems too good to be true, but if your cousin assured it, then you are assured that you are in rosy love with Kenobi.

Beaming with glee, you spin around the pillar with one hand, gleaming up at the sky that rains sunshine on you and your mood. This spring will blossom unlike any other before it since you are now blossoming in love.

Around the corner, away from your prying ear and gaze, Padmé and Sabé laugh amongst themselves, watching as you begin to dance.

“She is enticed, I’m sure,” Sabé chuckles.

Padmé nods, holding onto her handmaiden’s arm with jollity, seeing you the happiest you’ve ever been.

“If this works,” she says, “Sir Jinn’s statement is true. Some Cupid strikes with arrows, some with traps!”

Taglist: @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @alwayssleepingforreal @kyber-crystal @immoral-rose @bloodybunnyuwu @nagitokomaeda-onthe-nintendo-ds @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @princessxkenobi @mythandmagik @i-cant-hear-you16 @pradahux @inukako @whyiminlove @cosmicsierra @dxnxdjarxn @voidmalfoy @darthkenobii @iamtracyz @chogisss @nectav @disastereyebags @hellolitty @stareyeddie @liviiii98 @dameronology @overly-obsessed-with-you @onewholikesthings @shadowhuntyi @greeneyedblondie44 @doublesunsets @night-ace @mkr31011 @petalcranberry @house-of-kolchek @djarins-riduur @fresians101 @frodo-jojo @romi-yularena @cheoriemoawa @just-dreaming-marvel @tejabrynn @jupitersiberis @moonlight-fox @newmoonn @sylphene @easilyconvinced @auryborealis @friskynotebook @lostdeidamia @songoficecreamandfireworks @ohbeewankenobi @peters-parker @heyhawtdawgs @moonlight-prose @gardening-tools @badhollandfluff @mylifeisjustasongreference @gurldeuces @agirlunderarock @mischief-and-maryment @catsnkooks @pond-bitch @wannabehamlet (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the taglist!)

Dove divider credit: firefly-graphics

[mywingsareonwheels]

The witches who don't know they're witches in Pratchett's Discworld and the Morseverse's Oxford

There may come a day when I will get over the glorious, very blatant, and wonderfully resonant influences of Terry Pratchett's writing (and especially the Discworld) on Russell Lewis's writing of Endeavour.

It is not this day.

(Spoilers for s9 of Endeavour; much milder spoiler for the first episode of Inspector Morse; mild-ish character spoilers for Witches Abroad, The Wee Free Men, the Watch books (but especially Thud), and Unseen Academicals.)

We know three things:-

every place on the Discworld, by and large, has its witch. Someone who takes responsibility for it, whose answer to the question "who is going to do something about X problem" is pretty much always "me", who tells the place what it is. Who is usually ferociously down to earth. Some places have more than one witch, though this can cause clashes.

not every witch knows that they are a witch (cf Granny Aching).

while custom and practice dictates that only women are witches, it's not at all a hard-and-fast rule.

And a fourth:-

I saw this explained far better in a post about Good Omens actually, but the risk with witches is that they go off the rails. This can look like desperately trying to control others (especially doing the thinking for others, which Pratchett always (rightly) regards as horrifying), and in extreme cases changing reality to suit that control. It can look like cruelty. It can look like violence. Above all, it's loss of self-control. And in all cases, it's called cackling. We see it most of all with Lilith Weatherwax; we see that Granny Weatherwax is terrified of it happening to her.

I'm anything but the first person to note that Sam Vimes is, unbeknown to himself or probably anyone else in-universe, the witch of Ankh-Morpork. He absolutely is. I'd also add that Glenda Sugarbean, similarly unbeknown to herself, is the witch both of Unseen University (which Vimes generally leaves well alone; and sure, UU has wizards everywhere, but it needs a witch), and of her particular street in Dolly Sisters.

If it weren't for her character development in Unseen Academicals I think Glenda could very well have ended up cackling in middle age or when older. She becomes awesome and has some excellent qualities from the beginning, but her tendency to take over what other people are doing rather than let them grow and learn and be themselves is troubling in itself and sometimes comes very close to doing the thinking for others. And she resents others' dependence on her while also actively fostering it which... yeah. In no reality does that lead to anywhere good. I love Glenda, but *ouch*. All power to her for getting herself away from that trajectory. By the end of the book she's a far more balanced witch and cackling is clearly not in her future. :-)

And Vimes, oh goodness. His monitoring of his own character and actions is clearly paralleled with that of Granny Weatherwax: both of them have to work not to keep darkness out, but to keep it in. His own internal Guarding Dark is what keeps him from becoming both a cackling witch and the kind of copper he desperately wants to avoid being (and honestly, in his case the two would be pretty much the same).

Now, as we know, a) Russell Lewis is a massive Pratchett fan, b) Vimes turns up as a mentioned cameo in Endeavour, as Fred Thursday's sergeant and mentor (both in policing, and in fighting against the other police in the Battle of Cable Street/generally being an antifascist) back in the 1930s and probably as the person Sam Thursday was named after. And I don't think it's any kind of stretch to see Fred as the witch firstly of Mile End, and then of Oxford when he's forced to leave. He talks about first his part of "the Smoke" and then Oxford much as Vimes talks about Ankh-Morpork or Tiffany talks about the Chalk.

He's a very frustrated witch, constantly having to grapple with corruption in the city, in the force, and even in himself, but always, always "there's a city to look to". There's something deeply mythic about Fred in the early seasons of Endeavour. He makes mistakes even back then, but my Gods does he care, and my Gods does he take responsibility. I honestly think that over the entire series, and certainly prior to his unravelling in s9, the only thing he does for purely selfish motives is buy those canaries. Ah, my heart.

He protects, he works his arse off. He loves Oxford, deeply and passionately. Protection is the beginning and the end of his work.

But he's very traumatised and not always very self-aware, and he always has that tendency to try to control the narrative. Morse is fine. His marriage is fine. The money is fine. Sam is fine. He is fine. He won't confide in Morse, lest he upset Morse; he won't confide in Win, ditto; he won't pressure Morse to confide in him, ditto. And he can be violent, sometimes understandably, sometimes much less so.

Instead of having an internal Guarding Dark, Thursday a) represses so he can leave everything at the hatstand, and then b) takes on Morse as an external Guarding Dark (with just a little touch of both Carrot and Angua), to help him stay in line - and then pushes back against it. And just with all of the intense expectations Morse places on Thursday, it's both heartbreakingly understandable, and really not fair at all.

Ultimately Morse can't keep Thursday's darkness in, and Thursday can't keep standing upright on that dizzying pedestal. Because of course they can't; no one could. And the trauma conga line that is series 9 for Thursday I think has him damn close to cackling, if not right over the edge, making some disastrously bad mistakes. He nearly loses Sam, and in saving him he loses Oxford, loses Joan, loses Morse.

Whatever Thursday still thought was possible at the beginning of That Conversation in the pub (moving his responsibility from Oxford to Carshall? really, Fred? after Raymond Kennitt, would that really work?!), he's had a massive change of heart and mind by the time he and Morse finally shake hands and part, and in that change I see his redemption.

Here are the last things he does for Morse:-

refuses an offered lift all the way to Carshall so that Morse can get to his rehearsal okay (underlining his repeated support of Morse as someone who needs music to keep him going; that one thing the darkness can't take from him)

validates Morse's strengths and his belief in him, and in a teasing compliment to himself, makes him just-about laugh

hands over his own service revolver, forgoing his own duty and responsibility as potentially violent protector (and also giving himself the opportunity to learn to be someone who doesn't need that role anymore, and omg this is giving me Granny-giving-Tiffany-her-hat vibes and all...)

calls Morse for the last time by his given first name (and nods in sad acceptance when corrected)

And in all that, I see him passing Oxford on to Morse, as a last act of love and respect (even if one that he's desperately aware is hardly the easiest of gifts to bear).

Morse is the witch of Oxford now. And look at him in the first episode of Inspector Morse! He's a mess in some ways, good grief is he. But he's far more centered and at ease, and he's also not only developed further that deep and abiding sense of responsibility (which, let's face it, the poor man wasn't lacking in before), and a certain trickster nature that honestly reminds me as much of a far (far, far...) less filthy-minded Nanny Ogg than of Sam Vimes. ;-) He's rather a good witch for Oxford. And so it goes on. <3

[touchstoneaf]

So continuing the theme that the Metatron is a piece of garbage who's scared to death of these two... cuz obviously he is, after the miracle. The timing is just too obvious; he was upset the minute he realized they had enough power to threaten him. But that makes me think that he has a tentative position, or one that doesn't feel very strong to him. Like a de facto leader. That's the only reason he might want to break them up and make sure that Crowley gets screwed over in the process (which, I think it's kind of obvious that he has it in for it Crowley, who was obvs pretty high up at least in the pre-Fall ranking. Which makes him even more threatening; someone Metatron has to kneecap before he can join with Aziraphale in screwing him up).

But when you put all that into a wider context... I'm trying to think if we heard anything from God herself after Job (aside from the season one narration), or if that's the last time we've actually heard Her speak to anybody directly. Which makes me kind of wonder if she was so busy playing with her project of setting up the Apocowasnt to happen the way She wanted to that She was hands off with everything else, and the next step got a little out of control? Or She's playing with all of this from an extreme distance, which leaves a vacuum of power in between her and the leadership, on both sides, because it's clear that God was supposed to have been more hands-on in the early days, but then kind of backed off and started working through proxies, et cetera (like, eventually Jesus).

Except that she seems like She had Her hand in the pie by having Zira and Crowley there at all, and all of that stuff, that it all seems part of the actual PLAN... but it really makes one wonder... Is Metatron in charge for a reason, & if so, why? Is it a default position while God is busy elsewhere, and now he's had a taste of power, and doesn't want to let it go now that he realizes he wasn't really as in control of the full picture as he thought he was? Is he using his figurehead position / as a mouthpiece to do things that are way beyond his job description and powers?

If so, maybe now God is using Zira and Crowley, sculpted by Her very specifically over the millennia for this one job... to wit, ousting Metatron and getting things back into balance in Heaven and Hell and on Earth. That the Apocowasnt was only the first step, and probably even a little bit of a sideline. It would be just like Her in this version to want to use the power of love to effect real change after something got a little bit out of hand while she was looking the other way, or something to that effect.

In which case, Metatron's instincts are right on the money. Because this would mean that Aziraphale and Crowley have been made and put together specifically to bring him down, because he's not doing what She wants. And i bet also She doesn't actually want the Second Coming to occur the way they want it to. The way Metatron (who obviously is still pissed off about the Fall & at Crowley and others for it, and who is interpreting everything as a way to change things back to the unbalanced, one-sided idea of "the right way to do things" that it was like before the Fall)... the way Metatron thinks they should have been. Because he doesn't realize the Fall is part of God's plan to make all this happen; both to give humans two different influences, so that we have the ability to essentially make choices and mature as a species and become better than we are (the trite, obvious gospel reason for having Hell & evil at all... essentially, the party line), and because she needs Zira and Crowley to be ready to do what She needs them to do to bring him down when it eventually needs to happen.

I think Metatron's job was actually to make Heaven (and by action of doing so, Hell) as polarized as they are so that humans had a much faster maturation rate whilst strung between two poles. To literally grow into the gray area exemplified by our 2 babies, who are the leading edge of this evolution. Literally being exactly what angels are supposed to be... which are guides for humans as we are learning how to navigate free will... Which was, let's face it, the project that they two have been assigned to since the Garden. They are literally growing with us, just a little bit ahead of us, so they can guide us with their two opposite perspectives, which are perspectives that understand both sides (unlike most of their compatriots), and can see different shadings of meaning in it, and can continue to shepherd humans through our growing pains because they know EXACTLY what they feel like)... Ultimately so we can stop the childish black & white thinking that we started out with. But first, we have to realize the childish black & white thinking is too simple and wrong, and to mature enough to recognize that there are other options....

Which means they are a double threat against Metatron, because once that miracle happened, he realized he might be really losing ground in a way he was trying to ignore, and now he's very scared to lose everything, is doing everything to avoid that. He's the powerful person who lied his way to the top and doesn't want to lose their position and their high paycheck and all of their advantages now that people have started unionizing. This atop quite a few other related concerns that are driving him batty.

Now that for instance, we have evidence that there's erosion going on with more than just our 2 kids (who btw have somehow inexplicably squeaked by with this relationship of theirs and with questioning everything for millennia, and how the heck have they never been put out of commission and kept separate before now? And does that mean that God actually doesn't really approve of what he's doing? This is the stuff that would keep Metatron up at night, as it were). The erosion is now also in the highest levels of Heaven and Hell, which shows that his position is really shaky right now.

I think he was already worried when he lost Gabriel to said erosion/questioning of the party line. He had 6000 years to urgently tell himself that he was doing a great job, his position is secure, everything was going fine... That it was just the lower level angels who are questioning things, people like Zira and probably Muriel, who could either be demoted and sent to Earth to get all caught up in earthly details and minutiae, like Zira, or who could easily be shuffled off to the back room somewhere or down to the copy room or whatever. And now this miracle is like the last straw for him, and he's panicking.

To go with the metaphor of the corporate culture we've seen in Heaven, he's an oligarch who has realized that people are starting to see past the fictions and mythologies we've been taught that keep us separate, and we're starting to realize we have more in common and starting to band together Questioning angels, demons who are smart enough to realize that focusing only on war is a distraction, just like it is for Heaven. That there's other things to think about again like there used to be (also I think the dumb ones are actually just the ones who joined in cause it sounded cool, but there are thinkers, obviously, or Bzzz wouldn't have ended up with Gabriel), and of course also humans if they join in, which is even more terrifying, because God loves us and wants us to succeed.

Our babies aren't just scary because they can make bigger miracles than anybody else, and could thus whomp up the raw power to actually do something to him, but their very existence calls into question his methods, everything he thought was actually going down, and his place in the Plan (which, by the way, I think he clearly mistook, and he's not nearly as important a player as he seems to think he is). Is he a false prophet, even?Because now he has to fear that maybe they were specifically created to bring him down and stop him from doing things in a way that God really didn't want him to in the first place... or why else should a relationship that's unsanctioned and all of that somehow have the power to take him down, from a standpoint overall oomph?

He is absolutely terrified of them on an existential level; re his sense of what his personal identity is and what he means to the universe and the Plan... and as well, they threaten his position & power, which by now he obviously covets.

I can't think that this is all just something that's happening while God is looking the other way, creating life over in another galaxy or something. She's had Her hand in all of this from the start, so it has to be part of the overall arc... A chess player who's using a couple of pawns to topple a king.

This is going to be exciting! And I will not be shaken from the certitude that these two are the key to it all.

[seyaryminamoto]

I'll be in the minority here, but I'd be okay-ish with Rei and Renkai becoming a couple if its handled with care. This is unusual for me since I rarely go for big age gap relationships. Though, to me, its not the age gap itself, but what I call the Maturity Gap. There needs to be a balance of life experience, if that makes sense. There's 20 year olds who've lived through, seen and experienced as much if not more than some 40 year olds. But that's usually rare, so I rarely support age gap ships.

Hahaha, I understand that position, and I'll be honest, while I'm not a huuuuuge fan of age gaps, I wouldn't jump outright to condemn them every single time. Context definitely matters, I don't think every age gap involves grooming, particularly if we're talking about adults. People of different walks of life can absolutely come together to find common interests with someone who's much younger or much older than themselves, so it's not completely out of the question for me.

The maturity gap makes sense, of course. There's definitely some people who are older and do not have the maturity of their age, just as the opposite can be true, someone can be too young to be so wise... but in these cases, I honestly leave it to each person who's in those situations, (provided they're all adults (and always have been across their relationship) and aren't making their decisions under the wrong influences).

In Rei and Renkai's case, though, I don't really think it would be all that instinctive for them to become an item. In a sense, I suspect it might feel repetitive, too -- we already have Song and Rui Shi's romance, and let me tell you, getting those two to GET STARTED was not easy x'D they were supposed to plant the proper seeds for romance as early as the end of the first Pairs Tournament, but it just didn't feel right... so they just hugged and rejoiced in Rui Shi's confirmation that Myeung was alive and safe and sound. So I had no choice but to push Song as hard as I did in the second arc of Part 2 to make her act on her feelings, if for the wrong reasons, or else they would've just danced circles around each other FOREVER. So, if those two took LONGER than Sokka and Azula to get anything started? I guarantee Rei and Renkai would be that much worse x'D And as we've also seen a relationship that has similar dynamics to this one, I feel like it might not be all that interesting to explore another relationship between a commoner girl and the captain of Azula's guards.

Now, going a little further, in terms of speaking about the characters themselves... I don't think Renkai is someone who's really looking for love. Rei? Considering her background, she's looking for the stability of a family that really cares about her, and she absolutely has found that with Azula primarily, with Song and Renkai in second place. Renkai has definitely bonded with Rei and Song, but I think it's a pretty innocent bond. He wants Song to be happy and find her way to Rui Shi again, just as he wants that for Azula with Sokka... and he wants Rei to be happy, too, in the same sense. He doesn't really perceive her all that differently as he does the other two. I don't really think it would be easy for him to think of her as a potential romantic partner for himself. That's really not on his mind at all. In that sense, he's a bit like Mei Xun, both of them are just... not looking for love for themselves, at all. They're happy to support other people in their lives who want and are looking for it, but they're not exactly desperate to find it themselves.

As for Rei, I think she would need like... 5-7 years of calm and stability to finally start thinking if she wants romantic love. I really laughed while writing her first thorough conversation with Song, where she was so confused by the concept of having sex with someone she liked, and she outright asked "would I have to?" because she's just... not really seeing the appeal of the concept at all x'D so, until she finds the appeal and has stabilized sufficiently, I think she's going to focus on pursuing her academic interests, and basically making up for all the time she sacrificed/wasted due to both of her birth parents and the circumstances she was stuck in.

So... would it be possible for something to happen between those two once they're ready? Maybe, and she'd definitely be adult enough at that point where people shouldn't feel suuuuper uncomfortable with the concept, even if they aren't big on age gaps. But there's ALSO the possibility that she might meet other people and fall in love with someone else (who knows, maybe Renkai could, too!). Point is... it's not going to happen within the scope of the story x'D potential-wise, they could have a decent relationship, absolutely, but neither character, at this point in time, is looking for romantic love or needs it all that much, they're motivated much more powerfully by other things instead.

[demonslayedher]

Sorry to hear about the practice test! Honestly, those details sound ridiculous. I hope you're remembering to take breaks and stay well hydrated ^^

While I'm here, I wanted to ask you what you thought about Muzan and Rui's relationship. Personally, I feel Muzan might have had a soft spot for him because they both grew up sick. I wish we could have seen Muzan interact with the Lower Moons (and others in general). But in another reality where we did get such fleshed out relationships, what do you think it'd be like?

Thank you, I agree, this nerd test is a bit ridiculous, but I am a bit ridiculous. And hydrated now, thank you! As for Muzan having a soft spot for Rui, I am so here for this interpretation. (And I have drawn silly interactions for them before, tee hee hee.)

A lot of people have pointed out that Muzan may have felt sympathy for Rui due to also having been born sickly, though I have analyzed Muzan as only being able to see his own interests and therefore may not had pitied Rui, persay. However, that clear aversion to disease, and Muzan's (perhaps frequent) offer to give dying people a way to overcome it, has also led me to think that Muzan & Yushiro could had gotten along really, really well if Muzan had gotten to Yushiro before Tamayo did. Muzan does, after all, have likes and dislikes among his demons (some clear favoritism is at play with demons who are obedient or useful or stroke his ego in whatever way suits his mood), especially the ones with the highest concentration of his blood, the Twelve Moons. A factoid from the first fanbook tells us:

"Muzan was the one who named the Twelve Moon demons. He's been searching for someone with cells capable of mastering the sun, so he's generally been looking for people with qualities to their blood and body types different from the demons he's made so far, but he also wants strong demons, so he tends to aim for people with similar physicality to the demons who managed to become Upper Moons."

It's a little ambiguous whether that simply means he came up with the "Twelve Moons" term (which I find obvious that he would had been the one to do that), or if he personally gave names to the demons who were powerful enough for him to pay any attention to them. With that being the case, it's interesting to see where he chose to change someone's name and where he didn't, like, "Ume? No. We'll call her Daki. Excuse me, did I hear you talking back, what is your name? Gyutaro? Oh, that's funny, I like that, you can keep that," or "Michikatsu? Ha. No. You're Kokushibo now. Glad you like it." Rui, however, still has the name his parents called him. And, Rui initially got to keep living his somewhat normal life with them until it came crashing down, and Muzan came to collect him. When Muzan meets Rui, he's all alone, dressed in Western attire. He would have long established his Twelve Moons by then, however many rounds the Lower Moons have already been through. If we read into Tamayo's comments about how she wanted to live long enough to see her children grow old, we might guess that she was also sick, and Muzan has turned sick people into demons before. He tends to lose interest in turning certain types of people into demons once he sees what happens, like how one experiment with a Breath user was enough to satisfy him, and one attack on a charcoal-raising family was enough to see if that would be what it takes to master the sun. There wouldn't have been much incentive to enter the room of a sick little boy, all alone, especially one who he intends to leave there with the rest of his family unscathed. All he says is, "How pitiful. I'll save you." And maybe, maybe he really only meant to do that. If that's the case, my bet is that it was a passing whim, not a strong pull to this boy, but then when it didn't pan out, he felt he had to go back and finish what he started. After all, that boy did become a strong demon, he was useful. So strong, in fact, that it wouldn't had made sense for him not to be one of the Twelve Moons, however low his position. Rui didn't have much ambition in the first place, and he and Muzan both seemed pleased with the stagnant Lower Moon Five position for him. Rather than put pressure on him like he put on the other Lower Moons, he gave Rui leniency to share his unique demon cells (something which could potential lead to a demon gaining influence against Muzan), and allowed him to keep playing house. After all, as much as Muzan might not care about things like family or weak human parents, he might recognize that his actions were what led to Rui losing what he cared about more than having a strong body. It's unlikely Muzan would had seen anyone else in the same light he saw himself even if he did see similarities between his past and Rui's; Rui is like a stray pet he took responsibility for.

This is really uncharacteristic of Muzan. He probably wouldn't have been open to anyone questioning his oddly merciful treatment of Rui, so when Rui's defeat upset that untouchable balance, that may have been part of why Muzan reacted so strongly. It was preemptive, so that no one would dare to think Muzan ever had tolerance for an unambitious demon. And if there was affection, Muzan probably doesn't even realize it. As for Muzan getting along with his moons in another reality, I still think he'd treat them all as dispensable tools, like in the 4-panel comic of Muzan telling Gyokko to go something and Gyokko laughs along with him like, "oh, but I'll be killed!" and Muzan's like, "yeah, I don't care" and Gyokko is all, "........" What I would love is a modern day AU in an office setting where all the Lower Moons are there and Muzan is the boss. There's office cliques and gossip and antics on the company clock and then as soon as they start getting unruly Muzan makes a threat to fire them and everything goes quiet again. Kokushibo and Nakime are pretty assured of job security, and even if he doesn't give him unearned promotions or anything like that, everyone notices that the boss speaks in an oddly kinder manner to the quiet boy with the moles who stays to himself in his cubicle of family photos.

[blackkatmagic]

I'm seeing a lot of Cg and Fox stuff on your blog....

....what do you have planed, oh Queen Of RarePairs?

;)

For the first time in her life, Padmé is unmoored, untethered, and it feels good.

Her steps ring through the Senate’s halls, all but empty at this hour, but she keeps her chin up, her eyes forward. Perfect poise, perfect determination, perfectly pleasant as she inclines her head to Mas Amedda without pausing. His eyes linger on her, his footsteps falter for just an instant, but Padmé doesn’t stop, just heads for the lift just as it reaches the main floor. A handful of aides slip out, but Padmé passes them and steps in, offering the only remaining occupant a smile.

“Commander Thorn,” she says politely.

Thorn has his helmet off for the first time that she’s ever seen, is holding a large box balanced on one hip as he tries to keep four cups of caf steady with his free hand. When he sees her, he stiffens, twitching like he’s going to try to salute. “Senator Amidala! Sorry, ma’am, I—”

“There's nothing to be sorry for,” Padmé says, and reaches out, meeting his eyes. “May I?”

Thorn blinks, and his gaze flickers from the caf cups to the deep red of her dress. “That’s not necessary, Senator, I don’t want to trouble you—”

“You're not,” Padmé says firmly, and can't help but smile. “I'm not in a hurry, Commander, and I’d be happy to help you.”

There's a pause, and then Thorn smiles, quick and a little warm. “Well, Senator, if you're sure you wouldn’t mind. The Chancellor is staying late, so the Guard stays too.”

Padmé knows perfectly well that Palpatine is still here, and plans to be here for at least another few hours. She doesn’t say as much, just reaches out to take three of the cups, balanced between her fingers, and then steps back to keep the trailing, gauzy fall of her sleeves out of the way of Thorn’s boots.

“You're all very devoted,” Padmé says quietly, and it’s something she admires, that even with no Jedi to follow, even with nothing but cruelty from the Senators and the Senate Guard and the people of Coruscant. “I wish more senators cared for the Republic even half as much as the Guard does.”

Thorn flushes, wedges his box against the edge of the lift and rubs at the bridge of his nose with his newly freed hand. “We’re just doing our job, Senator,” he says, and the curve of his mouth becomes something a little wry. “We were made for it.”

Millions of soldiers, created the same way. Made to die. Padmé doesn’t have proof of anything, but—she knows what she suspects, what she’s sure deep down in her bones is true. The reminder steels her, and she takes a breath, all too aware of the weight of the slim case hung over her arm, the blaster strapped to her thigh. It’s not a weight she minds, particularly with Thorn right in front of her, avoiding her eyes.

His hair is long. She didn’t know that, because he’s never taken his helmet off in front of her. It’s long and all tight curls and the bottom half of it is bleached pale gold. Pretty, Padmé thinks. Different than any other Guard she’s met. That’s likely the point of it.

“You were,” she says, because there's no denying that. “But the way you care can't be manufactured, and I'm deeply grateful to you for it.”

Thorn huffs, quietly pleased but still a little flushed. “Thank you for saying so, Senator,” he says, and then, like he’s desperate to change the subject, “Is General Skywalker coming to meet you? If you're waiting on him, I can always find a couple of the Guard to see you home.”

Padmé curls her fingers a little tighter around the cups, but doesn’t waver. The Knight who escorted her on her last mission, what he’d said—

But Tae Diath isn't the reason for this. Anakin isn't the reason for this, either, even if it feels like she’s woken up in ways she can't quite articulate.

The Jedi Council will receive her message in the morning, with all the information about what happened on Tatooine and what he did to the Tuskens there. Whatever action they take, it’s out of her hands.

And before that, she has something else she needs to do.

“No,” she says evenly. “Anakin is not welcome anywhere near me right now. I'm here for my own reasons.”

Thorn slants her a startled look, but nods. “I’ll pass the word along,” he says, and when Padmé pauses, surprised, he smiles. “We’re the Coruscant Guard, Senator. No Jedi. If he’s bothering you, he’ll get tossed out like any other civilian.”

Padmé can't help but laugh, just the image of Anakin getting ejected from the Senate building enough to make her feel lighter. It would be far harder in practice, but—she appreciates the thought. “Thank you, Commander. I’ll take that as permission to hide behind you if I see him coming.”

With a grin, Thorn balance the last remaining caf cup on top of the box, then raises an arm, flexing showily even though any potential muscle is hidden beneath his armor. “Any time, Senator. I’ll keep him away.” He pauses, smile fading into concern, and then asks, “Can I…did he do something to you, Senator?”

“I don’t think he meant to,” Padmé says, because she truly believes that. Anakin isn't usually cruel. Just…thoughtless and self-centered. Easily driven to rage.

A murderer, she thinks, and closes her eyes. She told him it was all right. She told him it was Human, to feel that kind of rage. Bile turns in her stomach, and for a moment she can't even breathe.

“Regardless,” she says, and forces herself to open her eyes, to smile at Thorn. She’s fixing her mistakes. It won't make up for what she did, but she’s trying. “He did it, and I disagreed with it, so we’re officially divorced.”

It’s only a slight exaggeration. They were, technically, never officially married, and when she contacted the priest who officiated, it was to find he had no memory at all of the ceremony. Anakin muddled his thoughts, left him without any recollection of the wedding, and they’d used fake names, hadn’t registered the union anywhere.

If she’d known what he’d done to the official—

Except it likely wouldn’t have mattered at all until Tae wiped the influence from her mind and left her thinking clearly once more.

Tae had thought it was the Sith who did it to her, but Padmé knows better.

There's a pause, startled, and Thorn frowns a little. “I didn’t know you were married,” he says, and then winces. “Sorry, Senator. Not to say we spend a lot of time thinking about your personal life, but—”

Padmé can't help but smile. “That’s quite all right, Commander. I didn’t advertise it, because of Anakin's status as a Jedi. The Order asks that its members be free of other oaths, and he wasn’t.”

Thorn’s gaze is sharp as he studies her, even if the slant of his mouth is softer than she expects. “We’ll keep him out of your way, Senator Amidala,” he says again, but there's more weight behind it this time. “If you're headed somewhere dangerous, just let us know. We’re always glad to accompany you.”

That likely won't be something she has to worry about after tonight, but the offer is kindly meant. “Thank you, Commander,” Padmé says, and when the lift comes to a stop, it’s on the floor where the Chancellor’s office is located. The main office for the Guard’s command, as well, and nerves curl in Padmé’s stomach, but—

She knows what she has to do. She knew the moment she left the port, ignoring Tae's pleas to see a mind healer or at least speak to the Council.

The Council will get her message, but Padmé is the one who set this in motion. She’s the only one who can stop it.

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt18

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

“And what price are they going to have to pay for your magic?” Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the protective tone in Bruce’s voice as he glared at Plagg. She was beyond relieved that he seemed to be a good person and even her Guardian instincts were calm around him.

“The Miraculous are all about balance. In our case, as true Chosen, they affect us whether we use them or not. That’s why Cass’ life has been so difficult and mine has been relatively calm. Actually being in possession of Plagg’s ring will make things better for her. As for other holders, it varies. The longer you hold a Miraculous the more it pulls out certain traits in you. Good or bad depends on both the person and how in tune with the Miraculous they are.” Chloe’s over protective nature and Adrien’s possessiveness were both likely side effects of being holders but there was no way for her to know for certain.

“So they begin to turn you into a different person?” Marinette was shaking her head before he was even finished. She really wasn’t good at explaining things to other people.

“No. Any traits that the Miraculous bring out were already there. If anything they bring out a person’s true nature so they can’t hide who they really are. My former partner for instance was always showing his best face to the world around him but Plagg’s influence allowed those looking for it the ability to see some of his less desirable qualities. Especially when transformed.” While it made perfect sense that the ring had brought out the things Adrien felt he had to hide from the world, she still felt guilty. She also had to wonder how different his life would have been if she’d found her real Black Cat sooner. Cass burrowed into her side.

“Not your fault.” Marinette just hugged her twin closer. Even if Fu had picked Adrien, as the current Guardian he had still been her responsibility. She’d let her knowledge of his personal life define how she treated him when she should have simply judged his actions as a hero. It had been reckless and irresponsible. She’d put everyone at risk. She felt a vibration at her side and actually laughed when she realized Cass was purring to calm her down.

“Well if I needed any more proof that you are Plagg’s chosen, the fact that you’re picking up cat traits without even having the ring on you would have done it.” Cass stopped abruptly and buried her head into Marinette’s shoulder with an embarrassed whine. Mari just grinned and kissed her temple to try and soothe her. “At least yours is cute. The first trait I picked up was reflex bleeding.” It was a small consolation that Lila had a rash for over a month after grabbing her.

“Do I want to know what that is?” Marinette offered Bruce a commiserating smile. It was a lot to process.

“My skin secretes a toxic substance when I feel threatened. Sadly enough it’s actually helped in battles before. Poor baby August tried to eat me a few times while Akumatized.” Bruce just blinked at her and Marinette could practically hear him thinking ‘what the fuck?’ She grinned at him. “Once you’ve actually been through an Akuma attack, remind me to show you footage of past battles. It will prove educational and quite possibly entertaining.”

“You expect me to be entertained by one of my children almost being eaten?” He sounded insulted at the suggestion but Marinette rolled her eyes.

“No, but the fact that Hawkmoth tends to Akumatize the worst suited people into villains should. The only reason he’s still around is because he’s a coward. If I could find him all of this would be over in a heartbeat. Hopefully with Cass here my luck will keep shifting for the better.”

“I thought you were the one with good luck.” Mari let out a frustrated breath.

“Technically yes. However having the Miraculous active, especially with the ring being held by someone so much less in tune than I am, has been affecting me. It’s gotten better since I added other permanent holders but certain things haven’t improved at all. Also, the Kwami are of the opinion that Cass and I rubbed off some of our luck on each other in the womb. It’s likely the reason she ended up with you around the same time I first became Ladybug. Being together will allow us to buffer each other.” Bruce was still frowning at her but it seemed more contemplative than anything else.

“Cass.” She watched her sister peek at Bruce from her position. “What do you want to do?” Marinette let out an approving hum at the question. She got a strange sense of satisfaction that he treated Cass with such care even though she wasn’t his. He wasn’t as warm as her parents, but it was obvious he did care.

“Stay. Help.” Bruce let out a sigh but nodded. Cass relaxed further and Marinette could feel contentment radiating off her.

“So Selina said you’re a fashion designer?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the subject change. “Since there’s nothing more to be done at present about what’s going on in Paris and it doesn’t appear to be an urgent issue, I would like to get to know you and I’m sure Cass does too.” She felt Cass nod.

“Yes, I’m a fashion designer. It was always what I wanted to do, but my actual start was one of the first twists of fate after I got my Miraculous. I ended up designing something for Jagged Stone and everything just sort of took off from there.” Cass stiffened slightly and Marinette saw Bruce’s eye twitch.

“You’re the designer he’s always bragging about?” Marinette felt her face flush. It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would be familiar with Jagged. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “The boys are not going to leave you alone. Dick, Jason, and Tim have a running bet over who can get a commission from you first. I apologize in advance for whatever happens at dinner.” She laughed at his dry tone and caught Cass’ smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I assure you it can’t be worse than Uncle Jagged himself. He introduces me to all my new clients and I swear it gets more embarrassing every time. I’m fairly certain he practices just to annoy me.” Bruce’s mouth twitched into something between a smile and a grimace.

“Do not underestimate the boys’ ability to be annoying or embarrassing. That’s not even counting the fact that Damian is likely to challenge you to a duel in order to prove that he’s meant to be my true heir and I have no idea what weapons he managed to smuggle on the plane.” Marinette rolled her eyes. Why wasn’t she surprised?

“I take it Talia’s teachings are still strong?” He frowned at her. Oh right, he didn’t know she knew. “When she and Ra’s were in Paris she enjoyed bragging about him and his bloodlines. That’s how I figured out you were Batman. But don’t worry, I can handle him.” The skeptical look he shot her just made her grin. “Trust me. Besides, I just have to prove I’m not a threat to him. Given that I have no wish to take over your business and I have my own hero problems to worry about there’s no reason for him to take issue with me.” Bruce still seemed uncertain but Cass signed something at him and he nodded.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.” While Bruce obviously doubted her, she felt nothing but confidence from her twin. As nervous as she was to meet the others, Damian trying to kill her wasn’t that big a problem. At least with him, she knew what to expect.

AO3   Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@moonystars14 @ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @its-salty-bug @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @lil-1254s-blog @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @junarvion @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @aegyobutpsycho2 @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @misslenamooney @shamefullove @user00000003 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @galla02006 @thestressmademedoit @toodaloo-kangaroo @trinity-1002107 @alessialeone6997 @i-shizen @necromancerflight @astoriaandromeda @devils-wrath @adrestar

[spockshocked]

On “This Side of Paradise”

Watching the original Star Trek many decades after it aired, I cannot help but feel as though the conclusions I draw from certain lines, scenes, and even entire episodes must not be exactly as initially intended. Despite the caginess, both in canon and in external commentary, that Roddenberry and others employ in their discussions of the nature of Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock’s relationship, and the subtext often burgeoning on text especially to a gay viewer, Spock’s perceived gayness extends beyond his ambiguous relationship with his Captain. Many of the cues that might cause a gay viewer to feel reflected by Spock come via the quirks of his Vulcan nature.

One episode which deals particularly with Spock’s internal conflict vis a vis his mixed heritage is “This Side of Paradise,” the 24th episode of the first season. Spock falls under the influence of alien spores that cause him to break down in what appears to be immense pain, before he confesses his love to a woman named Leila Kalomi, whose love for him had been unrequited for six years. Spock spends the majority of the episode under the influence of these spores, canoodling with Kalomi and giggling while hanging from a tree branch, until Kirk roughly snaps him out of it and the stoic science officer returns to himself. The spores appear to render their hosts relaxed, blissful, and dazed, an effect which can be undone through displays of strong negative emotion.

The most striking result of his time spent under the influence is the melancholy that seems to overtake him once the effect is broken. Once he has his bearings and realizes that Kirk has intentionally riled him so that the spores lose their hold, the first thing he says is:

SPOCK: The spores. They're gone. I don't belong anymore.

In the context of the episode, “belonging” is the eerie, almost cult-like description for one under the influence of the spores. Taken at face value, Spock’s comment is merely an observation that he is no longer being affected by them; Spock often makes somewhat banal comments seemingly for the benefit of the audience’s comprehension. However, this one seems to carry a double meaning. Consider Spock’s heritage: half-human and half-Vulcan, Spock constantly finds himself torn between two clashing cultures, truly “belonging” to neither. A substance that enables his full emotionality, effectively tipping the delicately balanced scales of his identity, provides a sort of relief. With the negation of its effects comes a return to the inner turmoil he experiences every moment of every day.

Spock felt like he belonged when he was able to feel and express romantic love for a woman. A simple reading of this might be that the ability to process emotion gave Spock a sense of belonging, but there is once again another, deeper analysis to be made. The assumption that gay couples would likely be commonplace by the 23rd century aside, the fact remains that the show was produced in the 1960s and there are no canon gay couples to be found. Therefore, it is possible to work within a metric where one might have a reason to remain closeted. If we approach Spock as a closeted gay man, then the female object of his affections becomes a key element in his feeling of “belonging.”

In typical Star Trek fashion, the exact effect produced by the spores is never elucidated. The implication seems to be that it provides some lowering of inhibitions and propensity for leisure. However, the spores could also be seen as pushing their hosts to pursue their ideal lives. Doctor McCoy gets notably more Southern, his accent thickening as he walks around singing the praises of the mint julep. It seems as though, while under the influence, he pursues things that remind him of the comforts of home. 

Spock, however, has no such comforts. Instead, he becomes something he could never be: able to reciprocate the feelings of a beautiful young woman who has pined after him for years. Once the effect of the spores is broken, he must then break the news to her:

LEILA: I love you. I said that six years ago, and I can't seem to stop repeating myself. On Earth, you couldn't give anything of yourself. You couldn't even put your arms around me. We couldn't have anything together there. We couldn't have anything together anyplace else. We're happy here. [crying] I can't lose you now, Mister Spock. I can't.

SPOCK: I have a responsibility to this ship, to that man on the Bridge. I am what I am, Leila, and if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else's.

Spock’s response is cool, as we have come to expect from him, but notably more candid that most of his observations about his own experiences. He starts by claiming a responsibility to not only the Enterprise, but to Kirk himself. This could be a simple declaration of loyalty to his captain, as it would almost certainly appear to Kalomi, or an allusion to some repressed feelings that would only register to him. His next line, however, carries some serious weight. “I am what I am” refers to his Vulcan heritage, but as is often the case, it could also easily be in reference to his own homosexuality. Either way, he is explaining why he is incapable of loving Kalomi; the difference is whether he is incapable of love at all, or of love for a woman. His “self-made purgatory” is both his entrapment between his Vulcan and human halves, and his repression of his sexuality. 

Spock rarely speaks about his mixed heritage and the internal conflict it causes him, just as he rarely speaks of his own emotions at all, but it takes its toll on him. Briefly finding relief from this conflict only makes the return to it that much more difficult, causing him to be even more terse than usual. Kirk even points out that Spock has been quiet about the experience:

KIRK: We haven't heard much from you about Omicron Ceti III, Mr. Spock.

SPOCK: I have little to say about it, Captain, except that for the first time in my life I was happy.

Spock has spent his entire life trying and failing to completely repress his human emotions in an attempt to become fully Vulcan. When he finally has the chance to experience them in full, he breaks down in pain at the wave of repressed emotions before he finally experiences untainted joy “for the first time.” However, that is not his authentic self either. Neither a logical Vulcan nor an emotional human, he is eternally trapped between worlds, and was only able to find joy in a brief and unattainable fantasy. He is so discontent with his own nature that he cannot be happy as he is.

To a closeted viewer, this final line of the episode, delivered as dryly as always, is heartbreaking. The first time in Spock’s life that he was happy was when he ignored an integral part of himself that brought him pain in order to live a moment of a life that he could never have. To those who have repressed their sexuality, convincing themselves that they felt attraction to those of another sex because it was what would make them belong, watching Spock find joy in this fantasy only to be crushed when he must return to reality is painfully familiar. 

Analysis of Spock and Kirk’s relationship is generally sufficient to read them as a gay couple. When Spock is viewed in isolation, however, he still comes across as gay to many viewers. Spock’s innate perceived gayness relies not on his attraction to men, but on his repression of his true self and of the emotions that he cannot bring himself to face. While chalked up by the show to his half-Vulcan heritage, it still strikes a chord in a very human gay viewer. 

[jlalafics]

"The Long Weekend"-Part One

Happy belated birthday @keelaree!

Hope you enjoy this first part. Thank you for being such a wonderful part of my writing life, and an even better friend. Can't wait till we can reunite in SF, so we can tea time together and eat soup dumplings.

Love you!

Summary: Two assistants who barely tolerate each other. One snowy cabin. One very long weekend.

Oh, and one bed.

-----

“I’m making the turn now, Haymitch,” Peeta told his boss as he navigated the icy road. “Should have everything prepped and ready by the time you and Effie arrive.”

“Thanks,” Haymitch replied over the speakerphone. “I should tell you that I did ask for someone to help you out. Someone who knows Effie better than I do sometimes—”

Peeta slowed his car as he spotted the cozy cabin in front of him. However, he grimaced seeing the red Jeep already parked on its side.

“You didn’t.”

“Peeta, Katniss knows Effie very well,” his boss said calmly. “Just like you know me. I know that you two don’t get along—”

“Understatement of the year,” Peeta replied as he parked roughly.

“This is important. I’m proposing to Effie and I want it to be perfect,” Haymitch explained. “Katniss knows all the foods she likes to eat, and how to decorate the place to make it comfortable yet romantic. Effie and I are finishing up our meeting with Mr. Snow then we’ll be making our way up to the cabin for the holiday weekend. I’ll call you when we’re on our way so you and Katniss can take off—that is if you haven’t murdered one another by then.”

“I’m only doing this because I’m your assistant,” he called out.

“You could at least like me!” Haymitch joked. “I pay you an obscene amount for an assistant.”

“Katniss probably gets paid more.”

“Well, she picks up tampons for Effie without being asked so probably.”

“Everything will be ready by the time you get here,” Peeta promised. “And I’m doing this because I like and respect you.”

“Thank you, Peeta. Call you soon.”

++++++

Peeta Mellark sighed as he stepped out of his car, bags in hand. The snowy wind picked up and he wrapped his parka tighter around himself before rushing up to the porch. It was getting worse up here, and he hoped that the soon-to-be engaged couple would make it safely.

Getting out the key that Haymitch lent him, Peeta unlocked the door and quickly stepped in to keep the cold air from entering with him.

“Oh, you’re finally here.” Katniss Everdeen sailed into the room, placing a charcuterie board on the coffee table in the center of the sitting room. “I thought you died or something.”

Peeta gave her a wry smile, placing the bags on the floor before shaking off his parka and hanging it on the hook by the door.

“Thought or hoped?” He searched his bag before pulling out the champagne that Haymitch asked along with the two glasses. Going to the table, Peeta placed them on the table before going back to the bag for the champagne bucket. “Is there ice?”

“The fridge has an ice machine,” Katniss informed him tersely, nodding her head towards the left. “I’ve already gotten their dinner started.”

“Not surprised.” Peeta walked into the kitchen, heading to the stainless-steel fridge. “You’re so anal that you’ve probably carved those little radish flowers for garnish.”

“They’re in the fridge so they’ll be fresh.”

Peeta wasn’t sure why they didn’t get along.

For one, Katniss was admittedly attractive with her long dark, and almond-shaped grey eyes. The first time he saw his stomach had definitely done a little flip. She had been walking alongside Effie, notebook in hand, wearing a fitted black dress with a peter pan collar and paying scant attention to anything else around her.

She literally knocked him to the ground.

Katniss had apologized, holding out her hand to help him up.

And Peeta had fucking tingled at her touch.

Over the next few days as he learned the ropes of being Haymitch Abernathy’s assistant, Peeta noticed her across the hall. Effie Trinket’s office was directly adjacent to his boss’ and Katniss’ desk was in the same spot as his.

She kept her head down, never acknowledging him, so wrapped up in her work or answering her phone.

So, Peeta asked around.

“She’s an ice queen,” Cato, who was in Marketing, informed him. “Never wants to hang out with anyone or even join in during happy hour. It’s important here to form relationships with everyone. Panem Industries is all about workplace harmony and Katniss embodies none of that.”

“Yeah, she’s snooty, too,” Clove from IT added. “I once asked her something about her family and she replied that it was none of my business. Like I was just trying to get to know her!”

“Wow. I guess if Katniss is that much of a head case, then I shouldn’t bother to ask her for help,” he told the two.

After that, during any interaction, she treated him indifferently…cold even. Peeta couldn’t help but be disappointed that Cato and Clove’s words were true.

And that was the end of his fascination with Katniss Everdeen.

“You want to get out here and help me or was the ice machine too hard for you to maneuver?” Katniss suddenly called out.

Peeta quickly filled the bucket and stepped out.

Katniss was bent over the couch, arranging the pillows, and he felt a heat rush through his skin.

There was also the slight twinge in his crotch at seeing a firm apple-bottom in tight ski pants.

It seemed that Katniss Everdeen had a bigger effect on him than he realized.

++++++

Peeta Mellark had a huge effect on her.

Katniss struggled to keep the heat off her cheeks as she fixed the pillows that she bought for the cabin. Effie loved those cheesy sayings, so she went on Etsy and ordered custom-made pillows with her favorite quotes.

No one should spend so much time arranging pillows, but Katniss could feel his stare on her. It made her nervous…and tingly.

However, these feelings didn’t belong—especially in a work situation and she needed this job.

Taking a breath, Katniss turned…to find Peeta right behind her.

He jumped back, startled by her abrupt movements.

Whoa—was he checking her out?

“Why were you so close?” she blurted out.

“Sorry. It looked like you were confused about how pillows worked,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “You were there for a millennium.”

“Funny.” She sighed at the amusement in his gorgeous blue eyes—stop it!—and steeled her expression. “Do you think you could help me set up this romantic dinner for our bosses instead of standing there like an ass-licker?”

“You mean asshole.”

“I stand by my words,” Katniss replied and was surprised when he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he did. She couldn’t help but let her mouth rise. “The table is in that closet next to the door. I got some table linens from a vintage shop that Effie likes last week.”

“Wow, you’re really on top of it,” Peeta remarked, going to the closet. “How do you have time for a life?”

She didn’t.

As in, Katniss didn’t have a life.

She had work, she had a home, but a social life was non-existent. Katniss knew what everyone said about her; that she was cold and distant, never wanting to be part of the team. It never bothered her because she did have her reasons.

So, she was surprised at how hurt she was when she heard Peeta call her a headcase.

Katniss hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, only passing the breakroom to get to the copy machine. However, she stopped at the mention of her name.

Cato’s words were no surprise, though he failed to mention that her iciness was due to him inappropriately putting his arm around her and telling her that they should get to know each other on a personal level. Katniss also didn’t trust Clove for shit; she was the office gossip.

It hit hard to know that the one person who had made her tingle was so easily influenced by two douchebags.

Katniss had decided, then and there, that if Peeta didn’t see past her exterior, then he must be like the rest of them.

“I’m very organized,” she replied. It came out harder than she intended. “I have to be.”

Peeta had already set up the table in front of the fireplace.

“Well, it’s in your favor,” he told her. “You’re a good assistant.”

Katniss looked up in surprise. “You think I’m a good assistant?”

Peeta snorted. “Like you didn’t know it—where are the tablecloths?”

She handed him a beautiful fuchsia tablecloth followed by a cream lace one.

“Fuchsia first then layer it with the lace,” she told him. “I always hope I am. Effie is a great boss and she’s so supportive about work-and-homelife balance. I want to make sure this is all perfect for her.”

Katniss helped Peeta straighten the cloth, smoothing it down and making sure that there were no wrinkles. They settled into a light conversation about working with their respective bosses while setting the rest of the table. While Peeta worked on the place settings, he told her about how he admired Haymitch’s down-to-earth attitude despite being one of the most successful people in the company.

She arranged the florals in the center of the table while telling him how she had worked two jobs prior to getting this one.

“I was a waitress and housekeeper before this,” she revealed. “I was working a crazy lunch rush when I met Effie. We got to talking because she noticed how I met her coffee exactly the way she liked it despite my ragged expression—her words not mine. Effie kept on coming in, and a month after we met, she offered me the assistant job. Said she like my gumption.”

“That’s really cool,” Peeta said. He set down one of the forks he was cleaning and met her eyes. “You know, this is the first time we’ve really talked. I kind of believed you thought of me as your enemy.”

“I thought the same thing.” Katniss placed a folded napkin on the plate in front of her. “You called me a head case.”

His blue eyes widened, shocked at her words. Slowly, she could see in his eyes, the memory of his words.

“I didn’t know you heard that,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean it and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Katniss stood up abruptly. The pain of his words churned in her stomach. “I know that everyone talks about me. In my defense, Cato was completely inappropriate when we first met. I thought acting like a bitch would stave him off. Clove has no filter—”

Peeta’s brows furrowed at her sudden coldness.

“I realize that now—one year later…is that why you completely ignore me? Why you act like the sight of me makes you sick?”

“I do not!” Katniss cried out into the room. “You avoid me at all costs!”

“Because the one time that I attempted to ask you a question—you brushed me aside!” he shouted. “If you had bothered to talk to me, I wouldn’t have believed what people said in the first place—” Peeta’s phone rang, and he quickly picked up, seeing his boss’ face on his screen. “Haymitch? You on your way? What? No, I haven’t looked outside—”

Katniss rushed to one of the front windows, pulling back the curtain.

White everywhere.

She couldn’t even see her car and it was bright fucking red!

“They’re not coming.”

Turning, Katniss found Peeta putting his phone in his pocket as he approached.

“The snowstorm came unexpectedly, and the roads are blocked. They’re staying at Effie’s to wait it out while we…are stuck here until it passes.”

++++++

The good thing was that the house was fully equipped. Food was stocked in the fridge since the couple had planned to stay for the long weekend. Both he and Katniss had even brought Haymitch and Effie’s luggage so there had clothing.

“Well, dinner must be ready,” Katniss informed him with a sigh. “If you want to get more comfortable, you can probably change to something of Haymitch’s. I have a call to make before my phone dies and then I’ll pull the food out of the oven.”

Peeta nodded numbly, grabbing Haymitch's duffle and going to the opposite open door where the bedroom was. He tossed the bag on the bed—

The one bed.

Turning, he rushed out of the room to look for his female counterpart. “Katniss!” He found the sitting room empty and headed into the kitchen.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she spoke quietly into the phone. “Just be nice to Johanna, okay? I’ll be home soon.” Her voice sounded completely different, light and happy—even affectionate. “I love you, too. Good night.”

He knocked on the archway and she turned to him.

“We have a problem,” he told her. “There’s only one bed.”

“And the couch is really just a loveseat,” Katniss mused as she pulled the food—steak with roasted asparagus and potatoes. Her expression was pained, and she blew out a breath. “I don’t really want to think about this right now. Why don’t we just eat?”

Peeta quickly nodded in agreement, rushing to the sitting room, and grabbing their plates.

“Why don’t you let me set this up?” he told her, seeing how frazzled she seemed. “Have a seat. Open the champagne—”

Katniss laughed and the sound of her lightened the load on his chest.

“You trying to get me drunk, Mellark?”

Peeta smirked. “If it makes you like me, then yes.”

“Fine, fine…” Katniss sauntered off towards the doorway. She stopped at the archway and their eyes met. Her gaze was nervous, but he could see the warmth in her greys. “You’re not my enemy, Peeta. And…I like you more than you think.”

Katniss disappeared, but not before he spied the blush on her cheeks.

Peeta felt another twinge. This time—in his chest.

++++++

Instead of sitting at the table, Katniss grabbed Effie’s luggage, a classic Louis Vuitton that cost more than her old Jeep, and brought it to the bedroom.

The one bedroom. With the one bed.

A sudden image of herself spooned contentedly against Peeta in that very bed rose in her mind—

“Stop tripping off him!” she chided herself.

Distractedly, Katniss opened the bag, sorting for something remotely comfortable in her boss’ luggage. However, it looked like Effie was expecting some sort of kinky weekend. The only sleepwear she had was a tiny red number that Katniss would probably bust out of; Effie was a tiny but fierce woman.

Maybe she could borrow something from Haymitch’s pile—

“Katniss?”

“I’m coming!” she called out before stuffing Effie’s lingerie back into the back.

Walking back into the room, Katniss saw that Peeta had already placed the plates on the table. He stood waiting for her, looking obnoxiously handsome as he had the day they met.

That first time, she had knocked him to the ground so caught up in following with Effie’s rapid pace. When Katniss held out her hand to him, she was caught up in the open smile he gave her. Then it was the gold waves along his forehead, which Katniss desperately wanted to brush back and the blue of his eyes—they had a tinge of grey in them.

For a moment, she was just a girl, and he was just a boy. Peeta didn’t know anything about the rumors of her iciness or how someone like her, with no college degree, managed to get a position like hers.

In that moment, Katniss was pure.

“You alright?” Peeta asked, interrupting her moment down memory lane.

“Yes.” She let him help her into her seat. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Was it the one bed thing?” he joked. “I’m fine with sleeping on the floor—”

Katniss held her hand up. “Let’s be grownups. It’s a big bed and we can put a pillow between us.”

“Very to the point,” Peeta replied, holding up his champagne glass. “To being grown-ups.”

“To being grown-ups.” She clinked her glass to his and took a full gulp. The liquid bubbled through her, making her laugh. “Wow, that’s some good shit.”

Peeta guffawed. “We’re going to have some fun.”

END OF PART ONE

[codex-archives-exe]

Only A Heated Touch Truly Conveys The Sentiment | Yahari Ore No Seishun Love Come Wa Machigatteiru. Kan. [EP 11] | Yukinon x Hikigaya/Hikigaya x Yukinon [Yukigaya] 

Transcript:

(Yukinon and Hikigaya begin walking up the bridge)

Hikigaya: “Sorry to drag you into this.”

Yukinon: “It was inevitable. There’s no way I could have refused in this situation.”

Yukinon: “Seriously, what are you doing?” 

(Yukinon, in denial, that after everything, Hikigaya persistently tries to be with her)

Yukinon: “I don’t get this at all.”

(Yukinon slightly ahead of Hikigaya, walking up the entrance of the bridge)

Yukinon: “It actually felt terrifying watching my own family get coaxed along like that.” 

Hikigaya: “I wasn’t really doing anything of the sort.”

Hikigaya: “To be honest, I’m terrified by the fact that they just backed down.”

Yukinon: “Good point.”

Yukinon: “My mom and sister definitely aren’t the type to give up that easily.”

(Hikigaya, awkwardly asking if he can move ahead because he has a bike, Yukinon shakes her head in disagreement) 

Yukinon: “That look my mother had... It was the same one she has when she looks at my sister.”

Hikigaya: “Do you mean she acknowledged you?”

Yukinon: “She might have given up on me instead.”

[...]

Yukinon: “Why did you say something so absurd?”

Hikigaya: “That was the only way I could stay associated with you.”

Yukinon: “...Huh?”

Hikigaya: “With the club ending, we’d lose our only real place of contact.”

Hikigaya: “I couldn’t think of another excuse to you to come to me.”

(Yukinon stops in her place, as Hikigaya moves up slightly ahead)

Yukinon: “Why would you do that?”

Yukinon: “What about your promise? I asked you to grant her wish.” 

Hikigaya: “We could say that this is a part of it.”

(Hikigaya puts the stop on his bike on the bridge)

Hikigaya: “Because she told me she wanted you to be a part of our afternoons filled with nothing.”

Yukinon: “Then there was no reason for you to do all of that...”

Hikigaya: “As if.”

Hikigaya: “Acquaintances, associates, friends, classmates. You can call it whatever you want. But I have no confidence I maintain that kind of relationship.” 

Yukinon: “That may be true for you, but I’m going to do this. I’m going to get better at doing this!”

(As Yukinon, walks out of Hikigaya’s way creating distance between them)

[...]

Hikigaya: “This may hurt to hear, but both of us have pretty much zero communication skills, and we make things too complicated.”

Hikigaya: “Not to mention that we’re absolutely terrible at socializing!”

Hikigaya: “I don’t think we can start doing it well now!”

Hikigaya: “Creating any distance between us won’t be the end of it, and I’m positive we’ll just drift apart even further apart!”

(Hikigaya starts to run after Yukinon as she walks further away) 

(Yukinon begins to walk faster and further away as Hikigaya reaches out his hand) 

(Hikigaya realizing that Yukinon is getting too far away)

(Determined - Hikigaya, begins to gain speed and run after Yukinon)

Hikigaya: “That’s why...!” (as he grabs Yukinon’s hand) 

Hikigaya: “If I let you go, I can’t grab hold of you again.” 

Hikigaya: “This is extremely embarrassing for me to say, and I’d like to drop dead right about now, but...saying all that stuff about  “taking responsibility” was totally insufficient...I don’t feel an obligation to do this...It’s more like I want that responsibility. Or rather ...I want you to let me have it...”

(Hikigaya, finally lets go of Yukinon’s hand, and they blush and look away from each other for a brief moment) 

(Yukinon rubbing her wrist and hand, where Hikigaya held tightly) 

Hikigaya: “It might not be something you’re wishing for, but I want to remain involved with you. This isn’t about obligation, but desire.”

Hikigaya: “So...allow me the privilege of distorting your life.” 

(Yukinon shocked, realizing what he really means) 

Yukinon: “What do you mean “distort”? What do you mean by that word?” 

Hikigaya: “Well, I don’t mean that I have enough influence to change your whole life or anything. I think both you and I go on to university like normal, reluctantly join the workforce, and then go on to live decent lives. But if we’re involved with each other, we’ll take detours, stay at a standstill, and things like that, right? That’s why I’ll distort your life a little.” 

(Yukinon sighs in relief, and then smiles, knowing what Hikigaya means) 

Yukinon: “If that’s what you mean, then my life’s been distorted for a while now.”

Hikigaya: “I agree.”

Hikigaya: “We met, talked, learned, and then separated...and at each my life got distorted.” 

Yukinon: “But you were already distorted from the very beginning.” 

Yukinon: “I was, too, though.”

Hikigaya: “And things are going to get even more distorted. But as long as I keep distorting your life, I intend to pay a price to make up for it. ”

Hikigaya: “Well, I have basically have no assets, so the only things I can give you are time, emotions, the future, a life and other vague stuff like that. I’m not living much of a life, and I don’t have a lot of prospects for the future. But as long as I’m involved in someone else’s life, I have to give something, otherwise it’s not fair.”  

Hikigaya: “I’ll give you anything and everything, so please let me be involved in your life.” 

[...]

(Yukinon blushing and somewhat upset)

Yukinon: “You’re wrong...There’s no balance to that at all!”

(Yukinon, upset, knowing very well, that is completely unfair for only her to rely on him) 

Yukinon: “There’s not that much value in the path that I walk to the future.” 

Yukinon: “In comparison, you have...”

Hikigaya: “That’s a relief, then.”

Hikigaya: “As it stands, there’s not much value in my life. It’s an unpopular brand that has so little value it can’t get any lower than it already is. It’s basically bottomed out. In a sense, you could consider it a principal-protected investment. Now’s the best time to buy in!” 

Yukinon: “You make it sound like a huge scam.” 

(Gently punching Hikigaya’s chest)

Yukinon: “Learn to present yourself better!”

(Yukinon, upset, knowing Hikigaya is worth much more than he always tends to describes himself to her) 

Yukinon: “Why are you standing there spouting all this stupid stuff that doesn’t matter? There’s something else you should be saying!” 

(Yukinon, knowing full-well he is talking about “love” but does not have the bravery or courage to be upfront about it) 

Hikigaya: “I can’t say it. No way. You really think I can put that into words?”

Yukinon: “I think I may be a very tiresome person to deal with.”

Hikigaya: “I know that.”

Yukinon: “In any case, I’ve done nothing but cause you problems.”

Hikigaya: “I’m used to that.”

Yukinon: “I’m stubborn, and I’m not very charming.” 

Hikigaya: “Yeah, that’s true.”

Yukinon: “I wanted you to deny that part, though...” 

(Hoping Hikigaya would at least deny one thing about her) 

Hikigaya: “That’s a tall order.” 

Yukinon: “I feel like I’ll only become more useless as I continue to rely on you.”

Hikigaya: “Which means I just to have to become more useless than that. If we’re all useless, then no one is.” 

Yukinon: “And also-!”

(Yukinon tries to deny every moment of Hikigaya doing everything for her)

Hikigaya: “It’s fine.” 

Hikigaya: “I don’t mind how tiresome you get. Or how burdensome. I could even say that’s a good thing about you.”

Yukinon: “What?” 

Yukinon: “That doesn’t make me happy at all!”

(As Yukinon, lightly jabs at Hikigaya’s chest)

Hikigaya: “Ouch...”

(Yukinon, then gently grabs and tugs a small part of Hikigaya’s scarf)

Yukinon: “There’s more than that, right?” 

(Yukinon puts her hand down, then Hikigaya grabs her hand, and puts her hand on his heart)

(Surprised, Yukinon looks back at Hikigaya as he does this)

Hikigaya: “It may not be enough compensation for distorting your life, but well...I’ll give you everything. If you do not want it, then throw it away. If it’s annoying, then just forget about it. I’m still going to do it regardless, so I don’t need you to reply.” 

Yukinon: “Well, I’m going to say it clearly.”

(Yukinon then grasps part of Hikigaya’s blazer then begins to lean on him) 

Yukinon: “Please allow me to have...your life.” 

Hikigaya: “That’s stiff.” 

Yukinon: “I don’t know any other way to say it, so deal with it.” 

(Yukinon completely leaning on him, almost crying)

(Hikigaya, then fully embraces Yukinon, and they hug each other) 

Preface

Hello everyone, so I used to have a Tumblr a long, long time ago; 5 years to be exact; but have chosen this time, because on this very site I used to endlessly blog and jot down so many theories and thoughts about the possibilities - the sheer possibilities, of this couple, this ship being a thing.

AND THEN IT FINALLY HAPPENED. 100% CONFIRMED. 

THERE ARE NO WORDS THAT CAN DESCRIBE HOW HAPPY I AM.

7 YEARS

3 SEASONS

38 EPS 

AFTER STORY CONFIRMED TO BE IN THE WORKS

Sadly, I do not have the receipts or any core theory pieces or fragments from my past blog because it was wiped. Attempting to reconstruct any form of it from past memory, from what I thought from this, solely came from the fact Yukinon and Hikigaya, despite having so many disagreements and dragging each other down almost in some instances - they always watched out for each other. They always did. No matter if it was Hikigaya for Yukinon’s sake, or Yukinon for Hikigaya’s sake even in the some of the most simple scenarios.  

I always thought the beginning of S3, was so daunting because the sheer separation of the Service Club caused so much anguish, because each one of them felt for a different desire for another. Although, the entire premise going out of his own way to be there for Yukinon. Is absolutely the cutest and most romantic proactive thing someone could do for someone they ‘genuinely’ loved. 

Yes, I did go out of my own way to write the entire transcript of that five minute sequence because it is so incredibly memorable, cute, and heartwarming. As many have claimed from the start, they were absolutely meant for each other, knowing how much they rely, trust, and lean on one another. The writing is just so beautiful and always gets my heart pounding, and I practically cry every time. I could watch this a million times, I could never ever grow tired of it. Protect these two AT ALL COSTS 😭💗💗💗💗 it being well worth the seven years of waiting, was such an understatement, I am so excited for whenever the After Story for these two gets animated. My heart will not be able to handle it. 

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone

A/N  Another long drive, another Outlander fanfic idea that dropped into my brain out of nowhere, shoving aside the historical AU I have been wrestling with for months.  Here’s the pitch: Claire Beauchamp is a psychiatrist specializing in grief counselling.  Jamie Fraser is referred to her by his sister, who is worried for his well-being after a series of family tragedies.  You can probably guess the rest, but I’m going to write it anyway.   The title is taken from a song by the amazing Phantogram that was playing as the story idea came to me.

After losing my WIP virginity posting Ginger Snap, I’m going out on that limb again and posting this first chapter with only a rough outline mapped out in my head.  You people are a terrible influence!  Also, there will be some trigger warnings on future chapters, so please watch out for those.   And now, on with our show.

Claire Beauchamp glanced down at the leather-bound calendar open on her desk.  The ivory page for Thursday was packed to the margins, each hourly block filled with the name of a patient followed by a series of cuneiform symbols she used to remind herself of the last session, course of treatment, overall progress, all while maintaining strict confidentiality.  Not even Geillis Duncan, her office administrator and very good friend, knew how to decode the script.

Geillis liked to laugh at the old-fashioned day planner, reminding Claire that their practice utilized software that could perform the same function electronically, but she enjoyed the act of physically logging each session.  The solid heft of her Mont Blanc pen in her hand, a medical school graduation gift from her Uncle Lamb.  The scratch and grab of the nub as it bled black ink over virgin paper.  It was a tactile ceremony in a detached world.  Geillis would nod and then tell her she needed to get laid.

Speak of the devil, a sharp rap on her office door was followed by the appearance of her strawberry blonde head. blue eyes alight with mischief.

“Yer two o’clock is here.  Did ye need more time tae finish bolting down tha’ chaff ye call a salad, or can I show him in?”

“It’s kale,” she defended.  “It’s full of anti-oxidants.”

A disdainful scoff was the only response.

“Yes, Geil, please show Mister...” she glanced down at her planner, “...Fraser in, thank you.”

The tiny rectangle contained only a name, which meant this was their first appointment.  Geillis vetted all prospective patients, but Claire preferred to go into the first meeting blind, with no assumptions or pre-conceptions.  

She wondered what misfortune had caused Mr. Fraser to seek out her psychiatric services.  The death of a child, perhaps, or the end of an extra-marital affair.  People grieved for very different reasons and worked through or around that grief with a surprising variety of coping mechanisms.   Most called upon her practice in much the same way they would a breakdown truck when their car’s engine failed.  They simply wanted to get back on the road to happiness.

Despite the degrees and accreditations that decorated her office wall, Claire wasn’t certain such a thing was possible.  In her experience, grief was a phantom limb that never really went away.  The best one could hope for was to learn healthier ways of living with it.  

The sound of Geillis clearing her throat snapped her back to the present.

“Was there something else, Geil?”

“Och, no’ really.  Just, when yer considerin’ how tae thank me later on, remember tha’ my favourite stone is an emerald, that I prefer gold tae silver, but platinum is ne’er amiss.”

“What are you on about, Duncan?”  But her friend had already disappeared back into the reception area, leaving behind only the glow of her Cheshire smile.  Claire was shaking her head, bemused, when another knock rang out, this one considerably heavier than the first.

“Come in,” she called as she looked up.  And up.  And up some more.

The man who now practically filled her office door had to be at least six foot four, with powerful shoulders and a broad torso encased in a blue henley.  His nearly endless legs were likewise muscular, as testified by the stretch of his jeans across each thigh.  As if his physique wasn’t remarkable enough, he had a head of outrageously wavy red hair, worn long enough to graze the tops of his ears and the nape of his neck, but swept back from a high brow by a judicious use of product.  His face was angular in a pleasingly unique way, with a day or two’s growth of beard counter-balancing an almost youthful, earnest appearance.  But his most striking feature by far were his aquamarine eyes that shimmered like a tropical sea.  Eyes that were currently observing her with perplexity.

“Dr. Beauchamp?” a deep Scottish brogue inquired.  He pronounced it as though she were French.

“Yes,” she startled.  “That’s me.  And it’s pronounced Beecham.  Please, come in Mister Fraser.”  She shuffled a few items around her desk needlessly as she tried to compose herself.  Damn Geillis for not giving her a bit more warning that her newest client was some sort of fitness model.

“Thank ye,” he replied.  “An’ it’s pronounced Jamie, if ye please.”   She added wit to the growing list of the man’s attributes.

If anything, he grew even more impressive as he approached.  She could see he was nervous, although hiding it well.  His striking eyes darted about the room, trying to get a sense of his environment.  She indicated the well-upholstered armchair that sat to one side of her desk.

“Have a seat,” she invited.

With a surprising amount of grace for one so tall, he eased into the chair but didn’t lean back.  The fingers of his left hand tapped restlessly against his thigh.  She watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak.  This was a trick she had learned when she first started practicing psychiatry, but in this case it also allowed her to continue her appraisal.  He was, she concluded, the most attractive man she’d ever seen in the flesh.

“No couch,” he finally observed.

“No.  That’s a bit of a Hollywood trope, I’m afraid.  Lying prone in front of a stranger is hardly conducive to feeling at ease.”

He nodded his acceptance of her logic, but was otherwise silent.

“So,” she spoke at last, unable to wait him out, “what caused you to seek out counselling, Jamie?”  His name suited him, she thought as she spoke it for the first time.  Both boyish and imposing at once.

“I didna.  Twas my sister, Jenny, who insisted I see a doctor.”  His mobile mouth twisted into a grimace.  She could imagine the sibling discord that such a demand would have caused.  Whoever this Jenny was, she was made of strong stuff.  Unfortunately for her, a hostile patient would receive no benefit from merely visiting her office.  Counselling was a participatory process, and she could tell from the stubborn set of Jamie’s shoulders that he had no intention of participating.

“I see,” she said carefully.  “Well, it’s your time and your dime, Mr. Fraser.  This session lasts for forty-five minutes, and you’ve not been here for five.  There’s a carafe of hot water on the table over there, if you care for some tea.  Or you’re welcome to just enjoy that comfortable chair for another forty minutes.  I’ll be working on some administrative necessities.”

She turned her chair away from him, but from the corner of her eye she could see his gobsmacked expression.  He had clearly expected her to cajole and manipulate him into co-operating, but that simply wasn’t her style.

“I meant no offence, doctor.  I’m certain ye’re verra good at what ye do.  Tis only... well, Jenny is my older sister, ye ken.  She practically raised me.  And so ofttimes she treats me like a muckle-sized bairn, and no’ a man who’s capable of lookin’ after himself.”

As he spoke, Jamie leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, expressive hands gesturing in front of his face.  Hostile to the notion of counselling he might be, but he clearly wanted her to understand it wasn’t a slight.  As a physician, she had been trained to never take a patient’s reactions personally, but it didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the effort.

“No offence taken, Jamie.  If you don’t need my assistance, I’m happy for you.  That’s one less person hurting in the world.”

“I didna say I wasna hurting.  But I can handle it my own way.  I am handling it, that is,” he hurried to add.

Unable to sit still any longer, he rose and walked over to the small table where she kept an assortment of herbal teas and a tray of Geillis’ homemade biscuits.  Bending over, Jamie set about making himself some; chamomile by the smell of it.  The sound of spoon ringing off porcelain as he stirred in some honey made her smile, reminding her of Lamb and his obsession with the lost art of afternoon tea.

“Can I make ye a cup?”

The question was so unexpected, it took her a moment to process it.  The tea was there as a distraction for her patients, to give them something to do with their bodies as they worked through difficult emotions.  None of them had ever thought to offer her a reprieve as well.

“No, thank you.  I just finished lunch.”

He dipped a shortbread into the steaming tea, then ate it in a single bite.  Instead of sitting back down, he began to browse the framed certificates and photographs along the far wall as he sipped his tea.  With his back turned, her eyes dipped to admire his ass, which filled out his jeans perfectly.  When she caught herself, she gave her head a shake, appalled at her lack of professional detachment.  Maybe Geillis was right.  Maybe she really did need to get laid.

“How long have ye been a doctor?” Jamie asked without turning around.

“Ten years,” she replied.  “But I’ve only been a psychiatrist for the last two.”

It was a dangerous topic, and she blamed his ass for letting the words slip out.  Fortunately, his inquisitiveness took him in an entirely different direction.

“Were ye some kind of prodigy, then? Ye hardly seem old enough tae have yer own practice, let alone fer a decade.  If ye dinna mind me sayin’ so,” he added quickly, as though realizing what he’d just said.

“Not at all.  And you hardly seem young enough to be a, what was it? A muckle-sized bairn?”

As he turned to look her way, she understood the expression ‘shot-gun smile’ for the first time.  It spread across his face like a sunbeam, transforming what was already remarkable into a work of art.  If she hadn’t been sitting, she likely would have stumbled backward from the force of the blow.  Scrambling for something familiar to keep her from making a very grave fool of herself in front of this man, she clasped her clinical training with both hands.

“Are you and your sister close?” 

“Aye, when we’re no’ tryin’ not tae kill the other.  Our Mam died when I was only four, and with Da workin’ dawn til dark on the farm, Jenny was parent, teacher an’ playmate all rolled inta one.”

“You’re not from Edinburgh, then?”  Although what that had to do with his counselling, she hadn’t a clue. 

“Nah, I hail from a wee village in the Highlands ye’ve likely ne’er heard of called Broch Mordha.”  She shook her head to indicate she was indeed unfamiliar with it.  Jamie launched into a detailed description of the place, his hands sculpting the landscape out of thin air.  He obviously cared very deeply for his home, and she felt a twinge of jealousy, having never known that feeling of deep belonging  herself.

“And what brought you to Old Smoky?” she asked as he wound down, her interest piqued.  It was like slamming a lead door on his previously sunny disposition.

“Family obligations.” Said in such a way as to make it clear that no further words would be forthcoming on the topic.  She regretted her nosiness immediately, despite what it revealed about his emotional state.  Jamie was most certainly grieving something, but handling it he was not.

Before she could find a way back to the easy flow of conversation, a chime from her laptop indicated that the session was up.  She couldn’t bear to dismiss him without trying to set things right.

“Listen, Jamie, I understand that you only came here today to humour your sister, but I want you to consider something.  Whether we’re grieving or angry or jealous, or any destabilizing feeling, we’re often the worst surveyors of our own landscape.  Just like you can’t know your place on the sea without referencing the stars, it takes something external to ourselves to measure how far adrift we have become.  Your sister obviously loves you.  Ask yourself, what has she seen in you that prompted her to force you to seek help?”

They parted with cordial but muted goodbyes.  The door closed behind him, leaving Claire to stare at the blank rectangle in her planner that bore his name.  No coded symbols flowed from her pen.  When the door re-opened, it was Geillis, closing it firmly behind her.

“Weel, did I no’ tell ye?  Wee fox, tha’ one.  And he told me he liked my shortbread!”   Geillis said this as though it was some kind of sexual euphemism, which for all Claire knew, it was.

“Yes,” she replied distractedly.  “He’s very nice.”

“Nice!  Nice?  Tha’ man is tae nice what Wagyu is tae beef jerky.  Have ye completely lost yer senses, woman?”  

“Yes, well, he’s a patient, Geillis, as you well know.  And not one I’m likely to see again,” she added, acknowledging out loud what she already knew.

“Oh, no?” Geillis sing-songed.  “Thas’ strange, as he just made an appointment fer the same time next week.”

Claire’s eyes flew to where her friend looked on, smug as could be.

“Yer three o’clock called tae say she was runnin’ five minutes late.  I’ll leave ye tae think about yer... patient.”

Claire picked up her pen, trying to pull together something resembling a professional summary of her first appointment with Jamie.  Her mind replayed their interaction, but all she could remember was the way his eyes crinkled when he was listening attentively, the tidy half-moons of his fingernails, the seam of his jeans as it contoured his thigh, and the cymbal-crash in her chest that accompanied his smile.

Patient, she reminded herself.  Jamie Fraser is your patient. 

[elia-de-silentio]

Recap on Vanijeanne

As we try to recover from ... well, chapter 50, who wants to read a recap on the most controversial and Problematique couple in the manga?

*crickets*

Well, it was in my to-do list, so I'm writing it anyways.

Now, I love their first meeting, because while it sucks on 'what is actually happening' level, it does a wonderful work of exposure of the characters, hinting at their further development in a few panels.

Jeanne is presented as a '''''"strong woman'''''' ... meaning that's she's very good at fighting. That's essentially a good thug, it says nothing on character strenght. In fact, the only words she says for the first two chapters are asking Luca for orders: she's not shown as someone who takes initiative and acts on her own.

Even her emotional bond to Luca is taken as a sign of her weakness; while caring for someone isn't in any way a moral or emotional deficiency, quite the opposite actually, it hints at the fact that this girl has been so isolated, she has grown terribly attached to the only person to treat her with more than basic decency.

Speaking of basic decency, Vanitas fails even that. He straight-out sexually harassess her, making her feel even more powerless after mocking her for not living up to the strenght expected from her. We will later see that Vanitas isn't above psychological attacks on his enemies (hello, Astolfo), but this is callous even for his standards. Why would he do that?

Well, even if it was the first chapters, it was a bit of a shock to see the character behaving in such a way. Insofar, Vanitas had been presented as cocky, somewhat pushy and trollish, but also determined to help people, kind to Amelia, cheerful and funny. All around, a 'good guy'.

Even Noé, who back then said he didn't particularly like Vanitas, called 'overwhelmingly right' his healing of Amelia. Vanitas pulls a face at hearing that, and I suspect his behaviour towards Jeanne is in some measure a way to 'de-impress' Noé. After all, as we'll see in later chapters, he is an horrible person and can't risk someone actually liking him, right?

Their following meeting at the Bal Masqué is almost as bad. Here, Vanitas exploits her weakened state to flat out coerce Jeanne into drinking his blood, again using Luca as emotional blackmail (she'll hurt Vani, so the kid will be okay). Again, Jeanne really, really doesn't want to do this, and the scene drives home well her turmoil and hatred for the whole situation.

If Jeanne is being coerced in a situation of weakness, Vanitas is not actually faring that better. He wanted to have his blood drunk because he had seen Dominique and Noé do that, and he wanted something similar to the affection these two expressed, but not too similar because he doesn't deserve it and so he must make sure that the other party hates him and - this guy is a mess.

But the blood-drinking looks definitely painful for him. Heck, he even has to cover his own mouth to avoid screaming!

Their third meeting keeps on this proud tradition. In this instance, Vanitas makes quite a bit of back and forth: first he teases Jeanne in public about that possession mark, then dials back when he sees Luca taking issue; he offers privately to help her mantain her secret about the uncontrollable blood-craving, then he puts forth conditions (that she calls him by his name, thus establishing an intimacy she doesn't want, and that she drinks only from him, this limiting the damage she could do but also keeping a personal leash on her); he requires that she only drinks his blood, prattling on how good it feels, but then he has the same pained expression when she actually does it. His motivations here are probably mixed: partly desire to help a possible curse-bearer, partly a way to exercise control on Jeanne (as we have seen with Noé, Vanitas likes being the one in charge of situations), and partly some actual attraction to her.

On her part, Jeanne stands firm in her dislike of Vanitas, even if she really liked the taste of his blood.

Later in the same chapter, Noé questions Vanitas about love; he admits that he doesn't really know, just when he looks a Jeanne il flusso sanguigno gli passa dalle zone superiori a quelle inferiori his heart beats faster. He also lists his reasons for liking Jeanne; quite surprisingly, not only her considerable chest (though that got attention) but also some personality traits, such as her weird blend of toughness and fragility. Still, they're not exactly deep reasons. It sound more like a superficial crush.

But then, he adds something very important: he pursues her because she won't love him back. Here we got the first big hint of Vanitas's huge self-loathing: he is an horrible person, he doesn't deserve love, if someone loves him it means they have got some problems. He likes Jeanne, she's not the kind of person to like him back, he can have a '''safe''' relationship!

Then there is their famous date. It began as a ploy on Jeanne's part to get rid of Vanitas: because of quella comare di Noé, Dominique and then Jeanne herself get to know about that observation just above. So they get the idea: let's pretend that Jeanne really likes Vanitas, so he will leave on his own.

A sound plan, which would have worked if not for ... well, take a look at Jeanne up there. Does she look like she's confessing her love, or trying very hard not to throw up?

But the problem is: the date is great. Vanitas understands exactly what she was up to, and promptly went along with the act. And for the first time, he is actually nice to her: he shows her around the city, is attentive to her wishes, he speaks his mind about some little things.

And this completely throws Jeanne off her balance. Where does this sudden change come from? (And this was probably Vani's intention all along, as another way to keep her on edge and control her)

Not to mention, she's really not used to kindness. She's a bourreau, a pariah. She is so rarely treated with any decency, she is extremely sensitive when someone shows her even a little of it.

This ... '''cute''' rendez-vous comes to an abrupt end when an accident triggers Jeanne's bloodthirst. Vanitas gets her away before anything can happen, lets her feed on him (which still look painful) and tries to understand what exactly her problem is.

Whatever it is, Jeanne is forbidden by Ruthven to talk about it; the only thing certain, is that she is terrified by the perspective of harming Luca, should she no longer be able to control this bloodthirst. Vanitas reacts to this by promising to kill her before such thing can happen.

This scene is ...uuuuh ... interesting. I think that Vanitas actually meant well, even if only in part and in his own way. He surely sees it as an important promise, that he will honor should the necessity manifest itself. As for the other part, here is another nice chance for him to be the one in control!

With their next meeting, Mochizuki slams the gas pedal. In this case, Jeanne is not in a condition of vulnerability, there is nothing to blackmail her with at hand, and she's physically better off: it's the first time we see her take charge.

She has finally the chance to show off her better qualities: her sense of honor in repaying debts (Vanitas protected her from a blow from Astolfo before, getting wounded as a result), her level-headedness in difficult situation and her sense of responsibility towards others.

Vanitas, on the other hand, is a wreck. He lost his book, he got wounded, he has got hypotermia, he couldn't prevent Jeanne from stripping him out of the wet clothes and seeing the scars on his body, he has got a fever and is delirious. In this state, he gets a pretty loose tongue: he asks Jeanne some pretty personal questions about her motives here. She stays firm on what she 'has to' do regarding Chloé, but still, this is the first seed of doubt in her mind.

Oh, and there another kinda-kiss. No idea what Jeanne was thinking, passing Vanitas water that way instead of just putting the bottle to his lips.

Anyways, Vanitas really doesn't like not being the one in control. The morning after he acts the coldest he has ever been to Jeanne, dismissing her and then focusing on the task at hand, doing his best to avoid talking about that moment of fragility. Still, he shows some care for her, inviting her to listen to Dante's informations about Chloé.

They have a bit of a conflict of interest in there: Jeanne feels guilty about not fulfilling her duty as a tool and wants to amend by actually killing her mentor, Vanitas wants to save that same person; and, maybe because of personal experience, he has realized that Chloé 's death won't make Jeanne happy.

And how does the situation get resolved? In the sweetest, most actually romantic way possible. Vanitas exposes the truth about Gevaudan to Jeanne, and asks her what she truly wants.

A bit of exposition on Jeanne's past reveals that she has severe trauma after witnessing the death of her parents and being treated as a bourreau, a tool; she's convinced that if she ever acts according to her own will, someone else will be hurt. She's completely broken down by not having been able to kill one of the few people who treated her with kindness, and blames herself for everything that's happened in this arc.

But (after some unwitting influence from Noé) in sweeps our knight in a shining baggy coat, with the following message: she has every right to her desires. He wants to make her happy, he won't die as a result, he's ready to accept all she has to say, without judging her, with no condescension or trying to control her. All she has to do is be the one to give the order, and he'll obey. And she wishes for Chloé to be saved.

Chloé is saved. Her will to live is restored, and she is reunited with the people she loves. Jeanne is, in her own words, 'so happy she could burst', and extremely grateful to Vanitas.

This propels her to first drink his blood, and this time it really doesn't look painful; then to kiss him. And this time, he is the one to blush and stutter, clearly off-balanced by what has happened  and by the fact he doesn't dislike it one bit.

The following chapters can be only described as hysterical. Upon actually falling in love, Vanitas enacts the following:

• Spending ten days in bed, thinking he's about to die.

• Believing Jeanne cursed him

• Describing extensively and graphically, in front of Count Orlok, that particular blood-drinking che per come è posto sembra più una trombata

• Getting physically thrown out as a result

• Wandering in a haze, thinking about Jeanne's smile

• Running in a panic after hearing some convenient passerby declare his feelings for a girl with him

• After almost literally stumbling on Roland, sitting down with him and Olivier and trying to get romantic advice from a guy he dislikes and another he has never seen before.

• Trying the 'asking for a friend' trick. Is figured out after an esteemed timeframe of 0.2 seconds.

(Perdonate l'interruzione. La faccia da culo di Roland meritava la condivisione)

• Getting the most desperate look after Roland diagnisizes him with 'love'

• Throwing away all pretenses and expressing outright his self-loathing, to what is pretty much a couple of strangers, in stark contrast with his usual reservation.

• Reacting like a pissed-off cat to any attempts of comfort from Roland and Noé.

Meanwhile, Jeanne ...

Well, actually there is a whole sequence where she realizes she is in love, and describes the same symptoms as Vani in a cheerful, positive way to two flabbergasted Dominique and Luca; but I felt like the above panel was the most culturally relevant.

The point is, now that the feelings are real, Jeanne is the most confident and forward of the two. And this is a pretty great thing for her: as a bourreau, she didn't think love would have played a part in her life; she felt that she was just a tool, but not now, she has realized that she can love and be loved, and this makes her happy and confident. As Dominique observes, she shreds the shyness and insecurity that circumstances had forced on her, and returns to her original, cheerful personality; you can't take your eyes off her.

Still, in a following chapter, she has that little fantasy of a classic fairytale with herself and Vani in the protagonist roles. While it's a very cute and funny scene, it highlights something that Dominique too noticed: she is very black-and-white about Vanitas. She has gone from absolutely loathing him (with good reason!) to absolutely idealizing him (again, he finally acted with real kindness and selflessness towards her, but she doesn't even recognize how awful he was towards her at the start).

This would mean a fair share of problems with any normal person, as nobody is completely horrible or completely good, but with a walking bundle of trauma, contrasting feelings and self-loathing as Vanitas? It's probably a recipe for a disaster.

So! All in all, I admit I really like this couple. I like the possibilities of self-discovery each of them represents for the other: for Vanitas, to realize that his life isn't fixated by whatever happened in his past and that he can have positive relationships with people, and that he can amend his mistakes and receive forgiveness; for Jeanne, to fully experience positive emotions, and acquire a more balanced view of people and situations if her feelings survive the clash with Vanitas's failings.

... that was, before the disaster that was chapter 50. Jeanne has a very good relationship with Dominique, too; she was worried about her, and is likely investigating her disappearence, especially because Luca called specifically for her when he found out about it.

Remember? The same Dominique Vanitas would be willing to let be killed in order to protect his own memories, and even insulted in front of Noé? If Jeanne arrives on the scene, or finds out what happened, she will be forced to a new, decidedly less positive evaluation of Vanitas.

Misha is really being a wrecking ball on whatever halfway positive relationship his brother has, as if Vanitas himself wasn't enough to mess them up.

Thanks to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings!

[lottiebagley]

Have you ever been in love? - Cedric Diggory

The Diggory family had lived next door to her family since she moved house when she was only 4. He had been in his garden on a kids broom, his parents sat on the patio in front of the grass watching him play, when the new next door neighbours had burst into their garden.

It was like life itself injected into the small and quiet village. Twin boys, maybe 7 or 8 with loud laughs and boisterous attitudes. A young girl who had a desperation to keep up with her brothers running out after them.

The parents had talked over the fence and Amos invited the family over for dinner, insisting that after the stress of the move they shouldn't be cooking.

The daughter ended up being only 2 months younger than Cedric and immediately they were joint at the hip.

They grew up together. Swimming in the lake in hot summers, cuddled up under blankets whilst drinking hot chocolate at Christmas. They made promises of a lifelong friendship in the small village and neither had any intent to break it.

The boy was the epitome of kindness. He was caring and sweet. Always patient with her when she got into stupid situations and loyal as they come.

She was just different enough it worked. With two older brothers who she always wanted to impress she was brave, some would say to the point it was stupid. She could be reckless but she was also passionate. If she cared she would do anything for someone and she really, really, cared about her best friend.

It was no shock that they were placed in different houses. It was also no shock to anyone that knew them that they stayed best friends. Joint at the hip.

He grounded her and cared when she felt like no one else would.

She stood right by his side through anything.

It was natural. The love that blossomed in her heart. He had grown up to be an attractive boy. With perfectly tousled hair and a tall stature. Milky skin with bright eyes and a sharp jaw. But he was more than that to her.

He was warm smiles and easy laughs. He was her rock. The one thing she could always rely on. Of course she fell for him. Fell  hard. It was only ever natural.

"Ced!" Her voice sounds through the hall, she leaves the Weasley twins' side, they were her closest friends in her own house.

He can't help the wide smile on his face when he turns to see her jogging down the corridor to catch up to him. His dorm mates rolling their eyes and calling him whipped jokingly before continuing on their way to breakfast. Leaving him to be with his best friend.

"Morning love," he grins down at her when she reaches his side, his arms wrapping around her. She can't help the blush on her cheeks at the pet name. "You sleep well?" He asks, his arm stays tightly wrapped around her as they walk to the hall.

"I slept okay. Angelina has a cold so she was snoring which kept me up a bit," the girl admits. Rolling her eyes when she sees the worry over taking her best friends features.

"You should have just come and slept in with me," he reprimands gently

"Oh yes Mr. Prefect, let me just break those school rules with you," she teases

"Since when did you care for the school rules?"

"I don't want to bring you down with me,"

"Ah. But you're the only one I would let drag me down," he laughs

"Seems like your reputation will stay crystal clean then,"

"You're a pretty bad bad influence," he chuckles giving her a tight squeeze "I mean it though. I never mind you staying in my bed," he smiles lightly.

"Thanks Ced," she grins. They arrive at the hall and she drags him to eat breakfast with her at the Gryffindor table. He pretends to protest, knowing she will never let him actually not come. The love-struck grin on his face lets everyone near the pair know that he could never say no. Even if he wanted too.

The pair talk easily over their breakfast, playing footsie under the table like it's a thing all friends do. He makes sure she's eating a balanced breakfast and she laughs calling him a mother hen. Both of them mistake the love in the others eyes to be platonic.

"Sorry love birds but y/n we have to get going. We have Herbology," George smiles down at the girl waiting patiently for her. Trying not laugh at the bright flush overtaking both their features at the name.

"I'll see you in divination?" She asks the Hufflepuff in front of her.

"See you there love," he grins. She smiles pressing a kiss to his cheek over the table. Before flouncing out of the hall with George.

If she had looked back she would have seen the smile he can't wipe off his face. The way his hand subconsciously touches his cheek. The way he laughs at himself quietly. You got it bad Diggory. He can't get the thought out of his house as he watches her laughing figure turn round the corner.

**

"You're playing with fire you know," George mutters to the girl as they stand working on a mandrake in a  tucked away corner.

"What on earth are you talking about Georgie? You must have inhaled some fumes," she jokes

"Flirting with Pretty boy Diggory. You're only going to get yourself hurt if you are with him all the time and don't tell him you feel," he states "I mean you're clearly in love," he adds on the end, laughing when her face turns beat red.

*

Y/n sits with Cedric in the library. It's late, the library will close within the hour,  and a  Friday night. Most students are having a night off and relaxing but the girl had vowed to finish all her homework by midday on Saturday, freeing up all day Sunday to spend with Cedric.

He had asked in divination if she would like to sneak into the Hufflepuff common room, something not uncommon for her, and join him and some of his friends in a games night. She had politely declined, too embarrassed to say the reason she wanted to get all her work done tonight, instead telling her friend she was behind.

Ever the good friend, he had decided to join her in the library. With their OWLs being at the end of the academic year their was always work he could be doing. He would rather be studying with her than having fun without her in any case.

He's noticed she's been distracted ever since breakfast. Arriving in their shared second lesson and slipping into a seat next to him, in some form of trance, lost in her own thoughts. He wishes he knew what it was making his best friend so stressed. Wished he could help.

"Ced?" She questions into the silent room. Looking up to see her friend peer at her from behind the book he's copying notes from.

"Yeah?" He replies, placing his quill down and smiling gently to her.

"Have you ever been in love?" She asks.

See it wasn't the idea of it being dangerous to be close to the boy she was crushing on. She knew that. Knew she was setting herself up for a heart break. It was the word love. Was she in love?

"Yes," he answers without a doubt. No question in his mind. He was in love with the scared looking girl in front of him. He had never seen her look scared before.

"Really?" She questions mouth agape. She tries so hard to ignore the ache in her chest. The feeling of her heart splintering. The way her whole world crashes down. "How did it feel?"

He is worried. Who did she think she might be in love with? The pair are practically inseparable. What boy had captured her heart whilst he had sat next to her blissfully unaware she was being snatched from him?

"It feels nice. Like home," he starts. He's nothing if he's not honest. He prides himself on that. He will help his friend through what she's feeling, he would always help her. "She's the only girl I ever want to see. Only person I ever want to see. I wake up and she's my first thought. If she's okay? If she slept well? When I'll see her?" He admits.

She nods. That fits. He is always her first thought.

"I don't stop thinking about her all day. She just occupies my head without even trying. Anytime I hear a joke I think of her laugh. When something upsets me if vision her hugging me to cheer up. When I'm in the same room as her I can't pull my eyes away," he continues.

That fits. Doesn't she always turn to see if he's laughing at a joke? Always relies on him no matter what.

"She's the first person I tell when anything happens in my life,"

That one hurts a bit. That there's some girl out there finding out the ins and outs of Cedric before she does.

"I would do anything for her. Break any rule. I'd move earth if she asked. All I have to do is vision that smile and I'm putty in her hands," he finishes.

It all fits. And it hits her like a ton of bricks. She's in love with Cedric.

"Have you?" He asks. Trying so hard to swallow his jealousy. Maybe it one of the twins. He could come to accept that. They're good to her. They would be worthy of being her first love, stealing the title he has been dreaming of since they were 11 and she broke into the hospital wing in the middle of the night to check on him.

"I think I might be," she admits. Not looking at him. It's even harder to hear than he had imagined.

"Really? Who?" He asks. God why is he torturing himself? He feels helpless. The last thing he wants is to hear and yet he just has to know.

"I don't want to tell you. It's silly," she whispers.

"If there's a boy on this planet who could have you and would choose not to then he is stupid. If he's stupid you don't want him in the first place," he's never been so sincere. What boy could ever say no to her?

"He's not. He's beautiful. And he's kind. And he's smart. I know he loves me. I just-well- I think it's platonic," she admits. There's something about how she says it. About how she's looking at him that makes hope spark in his chest. He squishes it down. This is painful enough without letting himself think it could ever be him.

He doesn't say anything. Doesn't know how to form words. Doesn't know what he can say that won't let her know she's just broken his heart.

She doesn't say anything. She is so certain he knows she's talking about him, that she'd made it so clear. And kind, sweet Cedric is trying to think of a nice way to reject her.

"We don't have to do this. You don't have to say anything," she whispers. Gathering her books grabbing her bag. "Night Ced," she tries so hard to smile but there's tears pooling in her eyes as she slips out of the door.

His heart snaps. Grabbing his own bag and leaving the book on the table chasing her through the quiet corridors.

"Love, just wait, hold up. Just-" he calls out for her. She stops in her tracks. She can never bring herself to walk away from him.

She blinks rapidly before turning around, the moon shining through the window the only thing lighting the pair. He can't help but think how ethereal she looks, the moon illuminating her.

"What's going on?" He asks, hands holding her arms, rubbing gently with his thumb in an attempt to comfort her. Heart breaking at the tear dripping down her cheek.

"Look Ced, you don't have to. Yknow- say it. We will be fine. Just- I need a bit of space. Not for long- just- just for a bit," she steps out of his hands. She can't let him comfort her right now. Not when she's so in love and only just realised. Not when he's breaking her heart.

He is confused now. Why they would need space. Why she doesn't want him to say anything. It all falls into place and he struggles to say it. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's his desperation causing him to see things that aren't there.

"Who are you in love with?" He whispers. Scared to talk any louder.

"Are you really going to make me say it?" She questions, trying to bite back the sob "I just- if you're going to force me to hear you reject me you don't have to make me say it," she whispers. Refusing to look at him.

His heart explodes. He's in front of her in two steps. One arm wrapping around her form keeping her there. The other hand cupping her cheek, the thumb reaching out to dry a tear.

"I've been practicing asking you out in my mirror since I was 13," he admits. Her eyes widen in shock before he presses his lips to hers. Kissing her with so much passion and desire that there's no doubt in her mind. He feels the same.

She's desperate for more. Kissing back with as much fervour. Grabbing at his school shirt to pull him closer, impossibly close. She can feel him everywhere as her hands squeeze the fabric. His arms hugging her whilst he kisses. They pull apart panting.

"Can I take you on a date?" He smiles "I wanna do this properly," he admits, if it was anyone else he would feel shy. Not with her.

"Sunday?" She asks, she couldn't be more glad she had cleared the day. He nods a beam on his face.

"I know you want to this properly and I do too. But please tell me we get to kiss again before the first date," she smiles, he chuckles

"Whatever you want love," he grins, his lips pressing a gentle kiss on hers now.

"Love?" She whispers against his lips. He's called her it forever but it means something so different now.

"I love you," he states. No one can ever question it, not when he says it with that much confidence,

"I love you," she repeats. "Merlin, we really have done this in the wrong order," she laughs

"Whoever said proper had to be what everyone else does," he smiles back.

He's right of course. It was just right. It was them.

**

Masterlist