#so in a way it was clever to chose to change povs

[wehelddarkness]

x

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks to @sleepywriter00 for the tag here! Sorry this is a little late I got behind on these!

My words: spoon, energy, study, listen

Your words: future, slice, deserve, access

Tagging @jezifster @little-peril-stories @mysticstarlightduck @blind-the-winds @herrmannhalsteadproduction @cowboybrunch @i-can-even-burn-salad @aziz-reads @memoriethereaderandwriter-blog @mk-writes-stuff @buffythevampirelover @mantabanter @chauceryfairytales @eccaiia @pb-dot @frostedlemonwriter or anyone who wants to hop on!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @fairy-tales-of-yesterday - y'all can also hop on if you want

Keep reading for:

Talk about planners and Gabriel's nickname

Short passage of pseudoscience babble

Telepathy world building! Will this change? Who knows!?

Maddie helps Kelsey calm down <3

Spoon (twice!) - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Lexi POV)

“Oh, shoot, I forgot my planner.” I turned to see it still lying on the floor. I flicked my wrist slightly to teleport it in my hand. “You brought a planner to breakfast?” Tyler asked as he drank his orange juice. “It’s just how I manage my life,” I said. I opened it up on the table to show them the January schedule. “Wow, that’s really pretty,” said Carla. “I don’t need a planner, given my powers.” “Aw, yeah, I wish I could just stop time at my leisure,” I said as I closed the planner again. “I have a planner,” said Tyler. “It’s called here.” He pointed to his head. “Medina has one like yours, but it’s a little boring.” “One, you need to write things down in case you forget,” said Gabriel, pointing at Tyler with his spoon. “Two, I don’t see why a planner needs color.” “To organize different activities,” I answered. “Hm. Well, I guess mine is just schoolwork and my job.” “You have a job?” I asked, leaning forward. Gabriel nodded. “Construction job—perfect for terrakinetics. After school on the weekdays, I walk about fifteen minutes to a site—” “Wait, you live here full time?” I asked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” “You’re fine, I don’t care. Yes, I live here full time.” I chose not to inquire any further, even though Gabriel didn’t seem that bothered by it. “After school, I do the homework that I need to get done, then I help the docs out.” “What do they need help with?” “Various things. Um, right now we’re sorting through the multiverse database to see if we can find Rosalinda.” “Oh, yes, that’s right.” “G,” Carla whispered. “I’m fine, Carla,” I said. “But thanks. It’s actually really cool that Gills is helping.” “Gills?” Gabriel sighed then continued eating. “You really have been spending way too much time with Stafford.” “When are you gonna accept it’s an actual genius nickname?” Tyler asked. “Then why don’t you use it?” “It’s too silly for you.” “Do you not like the nickname?” I asked. “We can stop using it.” “Unfortunately, Nakashima is right,” Gabriel muttered, spinning his cereal around with his spoon. “It’s a pretty clever nickname. It’s so stupid, it almost works.”

It's Gills because his initials are GLZ (surname not included)

Energy - from The Secret Portal Part One

William put down his tablet and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. He’d been working so late that it was now early. It was so quiet he could hear the snakefly behind him violently flapping its wings. He sighed, then reread the last paragraph he’d written: Replicating the negative energy density found in a chronokinetic’s rifts is no easy task. The level needed to connect one time to another is far greater than a Level-7 teleporter, but nowhere near the level in the portal that connects our reality to Ceteri, nor even a dimensiokinetic. If chronokinetics were less seldom born, perhaps this task would be accessible. William glanced at the chemicals bubbling in the flask on the table before him. As there hadn’t been a documented chronokinetic in a century, it was nearly impossible to replicate their powers considering the amount of negative pressure needed. He would have to work with what he had: a Level-7 teleporter’s DNA—not common, but much more so than a chronokinetic. Jumping through space required significantly less negative energy density than time jumping, so trying to get it up to what he desired was no easy feat.

Study - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

I'm probably gonna change the "in a century" thing. Not sure what I'm gonna do but it feels wrong.

“Telepathy is an exception to the classification of powers. It and shapeshifting are the only two recorded to not have their sub-powers build off each other, but rather have them separate.” “Why are there so few sub-powers?” I prodded. “The mind doesn’t have a limit, therefore telepathy shouldn’t, either, right?” Carla waved her hand side-to-side as if to say eh, kinda. Aloud, she answered, “It’s been said that there have been cases of telepaths with more advanced powers, but there has only been one recorded case. Though some conspiracy theorists say there were more, but weren’t recorded, and that they went into hiding, locked themselves away, or maybe went insane.” “Insane?” I repeated. Carla fiddled with the ring hanging from the chain around her neck. “The mind can only stretch so far. If advanced telepaths did—or even do—exist, there would be no way they could function. Their minds aren’t able to communicate the information that they can comprehend. They end up lost in their own thoughts, unable to reach out to another being.” I fell silent. “Carla’s in an online holographic course in Telepathic Theory,” George said, breaking the silence. “All of that is just theory. Scientists who study the telepathic mind made a list of potential powers.” “Can powers develop?” I asked. “Of course,” said Carla. “Most Alii, in general, start at a lower Level, usually a Level-1, and most become more powerful. It depends on the person.” “So, you’re saying I have the potential to be a powerful telepath?” Carla laughed. “No, the odds are you’ll be able to read minds and that’s it. Maybe one sub-power.” “Oh.” My shoulders dropped. “Okay.”

Listen - from The Secret Portal Part One (Kelsey POV)

“Kelsey!” I heard a faint voice say. “Kelsey!” I opened my eyes, lifting my head against the strong wind. A small figure walked toward me, kneeling down beside me. “Kelsey, look at me,” Maddie said, grabbing my hands. Her long hair whipped around her body, out to me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I clasped her hand. My neck was ticking uncontrollably, preventing me from meeting her eyes. “It’s gonna be okay,” she said, pulling me forward into a hug. I embraced her, shaking, twitching, sobbing. “Kelsey, listen. Remember yesterday when this happened? You made the mansion toxic. Remember?” I nodded. “I don’t want that in my house. But you need to get rid of this… weird darkness stuff instead of just making it explode. Can you do that?” I shook my head. “Just focus on me, ‘kay? Now, can you breathe? Slowly?” I did, inhaling and exhaling. “I think you can make this black smoke go away if you imagine sucking it all up. Or maybe it just needs to disappear. Can you do that? Imagine it. Maybe it’ll work.” I closed my eyes, imagining the darkness fading away until it disappeared. I imagined the air in the room was still at breathable levels. That the smoke nor wind didn’t affect anything around it. The wind stopped. The darkness went away. Still in Maddie’s arms, I opened my eyes. The room looked untouched.

Pretty sure I've shared that last excerpt before but I like it

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 20

I almost didn’t get this post ready on time but here we are for another @hprecfest day and I love today’s prompt! Some fandoms like Drarry are strongly driven by shippy feels and it’s easy to overlook great Gen fics. I rarely read them, but the G and T fics I’ve enjoyed have left a big impression on me. After allowing myself to rec popular smutty series yesterday I’m very happy to share two underrated comfort fics!

Day 20) a fic rated G:

Drarry

Tidings of Comfort series by @blamebrampton (G, 10k)

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover.

BB is my go-to when I’m looking for top quality Gen fics - she’s written a total of 10 for HP and I can attest they’re all fantastic reads, charming, clever, creative and entertaining like few stories are. it was hard to pick just one but I chose by a) number of comments and b) Christmassy vibes. Tidings of Comfort (how brilliant is that title alone?) is an all-time favorite advent read when it comes to redemption arc. it has such a wistful evocative vibe, gorgeous religious refs and Draco and Harry’s voices are wonderfully mature and full of personality. their tentative reunion and existential conversations provide so much insight into their lives and background it’s crazy to think this series is just under 10k. I’m in love with the quiet and exploratory slow burn, cautious but full of promise; it becomes even more serendipitous due to the Christmas magic surrounding their encounter. a wonderful pre-slash read, sensitive and poignant, and a perfect treat for this holiday season!

Rare pair

Aftermath by @static-abyss (Harry/Ron, G, 2.7k)

A soulmate, Ron knows, is someone chosen, not destined.

my kingdom for a Rarry soulmate AU 😭 this trope fits the ship so perfectly and as always Ana kills me softly with the loveliest short fic. something about Harry’s tender longing for Ron hits me just right; his pov is very insightful and there’s a brilliant scene in which he analyses Justin that stayed with me for a long time (“He thinks of Sirius and his father, of how being raised in money makes it easy to believe that everything will always be taken care of” - what a quote!). I love his camaraderie with Ron and the way both romantic and platonic love are explored here - this fic gets into my favourite thing about Rarry which is the fact that Ron is “the first the first person Harry loved who loved him back.” I feel like that’s such a powerful yet overlooked aspect of their friendship and I love seeing it acknowledge here. the fic has also a creative take on Harry’s soulmark changing after the war which was really interesting and perfect angst material! I urge all Rarry lovers to go check this gem and give it a little love ❤️

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 11 THEON I (pages 149-169)

Theon returns to his childhood home to find some things familiar but more which are not. His uncle and father prove to be not part of a safe and healthy family life, and Theon's plans come crashing down around his ears in the face of his father's own.

-

There was no safe anchorage at Pyke, but Theon Greyjoy wished to look on his father's castle from the sea, to see it as he had seen it last, ten years before, when Robert Baratheon's war galley had borne him away to be a ward of Eddard Stark. ... Obedient to his wishes, the Myraham beat her way past the point with her sails snapping ans her captain cursing the wind and his crew and the follies of highborn lordlings. Theon drew the hood of his cloak up against the spray, and looked for home.

My second thought on this is "my gosh Theon, don't endanger the crew for nostalgia" but also I get it, to see the island return the way he saw it taken, part of him, subconsciously, is probably thinking it will somehow undo what happened, give it back somehow. Like yes, he's back home, but there's still those ten years that he won't ever get back, but to see a loss in reverse might make you think it could be.

My first thought is: Oh hey, remember how Theon was taken from his family and not in a 'someone called social services way' but in a 'this child is a political hostage' kind of way.

She looked rather stupid when she smiled, if truth be told, but he had never required a woman to be clever.

Real classy Theon. (Sarcasm.)

Her mouth was as wet and sweet as her cunt, -

"Cunt" = 🥛 (This makes 2 so far in the series, if I've counted correctly. We're almost catching up to a single conversation in the show!)

The captain's daughter had not been turned over for his use, but she had come to his bed willingly enough all the same. A cup of wine, a few whispers, and there she was. ... "I can't stay here now." He laced up his breeches. "Why not?" "My father," she told him. "Once you're gone, he'll punish me, milord. He'll call me names and hit me." Theon swept his cloak off its peg and over his shoulders. "Fathers are like that," he admitted, as he pinned the folds with a silver clasp.

First of all, fathers shouldn't be 'like that,' second of all: I'm not convince 'willingly enough' means 'she chose on her own initiative.' POV bias means we don't know for sure, but it sounds like Theon got her tipsy and coerced her into it while her reasoning was impaired, and she only went back to his bed because she knew being any kind of bride or concubine for Theon was now safer for her than facing her father's wrath. Theon even comments that she's weirdly old for a virgin. Of course it is possible that she deliberately seduced him hoping for a way off her father's boat, but between the vagaries and Theon's attitude toward her, he's on thin ice at the moment.

He saw the castle first, the stronghold of the Botleys. When he was a boy it had been timber and wattle, but Robert Baratheon had razed the structure to the ground.

So I know that GRRM likely (100% certainly) meant the ancient construction material made of woven-wood panels when he says wattle, but every time someone (in any work) uses the word to describe a building, every single time, my brain pictures the tiny little yellow pompom looking flowers native to Australia. Every. Time.

The buildings are never as floraly as I picture them.

Uncle Aeron's a bit... intense. Nice of him to pick Theon up from the port though. Saves him from accidental incest groping.

... hang on, trying to remember the show's timeline, because we already had Osha, did they change Asha to Yara because they thought we'd get confused? Is that also why several Walder Freys were cut from the show?

Theon: *opens his mouth to say literally anything* Aeron: Old news, unimportant, you basic bitch, you're reverse adopted and your parents don't even love you, you're irrelevant, get gud scrub, oh wait I forgot you can't, landlubber.

Mmmm, some great vibes in this place (Sarcasm intensifies.)

This is terrible for Theon's mental health, and is only going to give him issues re: his personal and cultural identity, never mind an inferiority complex (bigger than that one he's already rocking).

"And who are you?" "Helya, who keep sthe castle for your lord father." "Sylas was steward here. They called him Sourmouth." (...) "Dead these five years, m'lord." "And what of Maester Qalen, where is he?" "He sleeps in the sea. Wendamyr keeps the ravens now." It is as if I were a stranger here, Theon thought. Nothing has changed, and yet everything is changed."

"It must be difficult, being in a strange place." "This is my home, it is the people who are strange."

His father slid his fingers under the necklace and gave it a yank so hard it was like to take Theon's head off, had the chain not snapped first. "My daughter has taken an axe for a lover," Lord Balon said. "I will not have my son bedeck himself like a whore."

...maybe Theon should have been taken away from his father in a 'someone call social services' kind of way. Wow, Balon just really wants to be in the running for Worst Father in Westeros.

Theon edged backwards, away from the sudden fury in his father's tone. "Take it then," he spat, cheek still tingling. "Call yourself King of the Iron Islands, no one will care... until the wars are over, and the victor looks about and spies an old fool perched off his shore with an iron crown on his head."

Yeah! You tell him Theon!

"- No. I hunger for a different plum... not so juicy sweet, to be sure, yet it hangs there ripe and undefended." Where? Theon might have asked, but by then he knew.

No, bad Balon. Naughty!

[snapeaddict]

I must say - I've always been disturbed by the whole 'Snape and Trevor scene' discourse from both Snaters' and Snapedom's POV. Snaters use this scene as a proof of Snape torturing and abusing students (on a daily basis, often). I often see readings of this scene by the Snapedom that are very clever and rational - no, this is not torture. No, he would not have killed him.

But yes, it is abuse. The thing is, from Snape's POV, sure: he had reasons to do that, it was not done out of cruelty, it was an almost desperate attempt - perhaps even a clumsy one - to have Neville face the dangerous consequences of his carelessness and inattentive behaviour.

However, saying that Snape threatened to poison Trevor is a perfectly valid affirmation, because this is the exact message he sends to Neville. The important factor here, not often taken into account, is rationality - it often seems to me like the Snapedom explains and minimises the impact this had, or could have had on Neville by demonstrating there was rationally nothing to be afraid of - which is the case - so we should not make it 'such a big deal.' It is important to remember, however valid your explanation of this scene is, that it does not take into account Neville's feelings and knowledge - more precisely, lack of insight and knowledge - of Snape's intentions and capacities. What Snape instills in Neville in this very moment is pure fear. Yes, to Neville, Trevor's life is in danger, and, if you follow Snape's logic - in what he wants Neville to feel - it is Neville's own fault.

Snape threatens, that is the word, his pet, friend, family member, every day companion. You see why I am particularly sensitive to this subject. It does not matter what things look like from our point of view.

So yes, we have to acknowledge Snape did not torture his students, and was not nearly as bad with them as he is depicted by Snaters. That the word torture and bullying should, in his instance, not be used, or, for bullying, used cautiously, is right. But do not minimise this behaviour. This was abuse - animal abuse of course, but in the real world just like in the magical world, it does not matter - this was emotional abuse toward Neville. Text analysis is important, but perspectives and consideration of reasonless (for all sort of causes), non rational feelings is too. Snape did not intend to kill Trevor - valid affirmation. Snape made it look like he would - valid affirmation. No matter what Snape really meant to do, what he did was abuse - valid affirmation.

Overall I sometimes feel the same when I see explanations offered to Snaters about Neville's Boggart. What is relevant is to put Snape's actions into perspective, correct fanon ideas of him being a bully and crual teacher - but Neville's case is peculiar and he clearly was abusive toward him. Is it relevant to explain why JK Rowling chose to make Snape his boggart? Sure. To explain why a boggart is not the personification of your actual deepest darkest fear? Of course. Is it right to use this as a way to minimise Snape's impact on Neville's mental health? Textual analysis does not change his feelings. He was not traumatised, that is a fact. But his fear of Snape, and Snape's behaviour, are concerning. I feel sometimes, just sometimes, we almost fall into a... nihilistic, if I may put it like this, vision of things.

Snape's behaviour toward Neville and Trevor was cruel, terrifying to a child, and could have been traumatising, no matter what the intent was. I just felt like this needed to be reminded. What Snaters try to do with this fact, however, when they do get a fact right - which is to paint a simple, uninformed, black and white portait of his character based on fanon or a single behaviour, is wrong. But what Snape did was terribly, terribly wrong as well, abusive and brutal, and it's right to acknowledge it, no matter if it was a mild inconvenience up to Hogwarts' standards. Textual analysis does not erase the momentary or long term consequences of an action within the work of fiction.

Diminishing the emotional impact of an action using textual analysis is mixing two separate and mutually exclusive perspectives.

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Two: The First Day of Nostos

And the second chapter is here! I feel evil for writing this, buuutt we need drama. And plot. 

For those who are new to the AIB fandom, this is the sequel to my other Chishiya x OC/Reader fic - you can find the first one, and the Chishiya pov side series, either on AO3 or on my Tumblr. 

I’ll keep this short and sweet, and leave the AO3 link to this chapter here. 

And the link to my AO3 profile where you’ll find the other fics is here.  

As always, thanks for reading! Your support means the world :D

---------------------------------------------------

Daylight spilled through the window onto the empty side of the bed. It wasn’t unusual for Chishiya to wake up before me, although usually in my dreaming I would feel the dip of the mattress as he left. I must’ve been in such a deep sleep that I hadn’t noticed. But that’s okay. I needed all the rest I could get.

Rubbing my eyes, I stretched out a hand to feel the sheets. They were still warm, as was the light that enveloped my fingers in its glow. It would have been peaceful morning, here in the sun and the cosy sheets, if not for the budding anticipation within me.

Noon.

That’s when it all starts.

Kicking back the covers, I forced myself to get up and dressed. No matter how much I wanted to laze around, there was no telling what would happen, and so I chose more comfortable, practical clothes – cropped cargo pants, with a t-shirt and hoodie. It was only when I headed down the creaky stairs into the overwhelming silence of the living room, that Chishiya’s absence became even more apparent.

If he wasn’t down here, that left only one place he could be.

Is he aware of how predictable he is?

Emptying a bottle of water into a pan, I lit up the camping stove, watching as the water slowly frothed into simmer before bubbling away. Then spooning some instant coffee into two small mugs, I poured some of the water into each. It wasn’t great, but it was the closest thing to a real cup of coffee we could get in this world. Carefully carrying the two mugs, I stepped outside, and immediately squinted under the sun’s glare.

If it’s this high in the sky, there can’t be much longer now.

Just around the side of the store was a fire escape ladder. I had practiced this a few times, holding both mug handles in one hand, as I shakily clambered up to the roof. I only spilled a couple of drops, but it was nothing compared to the first time I tried to do this. Moving slowly, I slid onto the rooftop.

And there he was.

Lounging near the edge, one knee bent up, Chishiya was staring out at the cityscape. The first thing I noticed when I sat beside him was the mug in his hand. And once again, I felt like an idiot.

‘You already made coffee?’ I set the unwanted extra between us, eyeing his steaming mug. ‘And you didn’t leave any for me.’

‘You were fast asleep,’ he replied, taking a sip. ‘It would have gone cold.’

‘You could’ve woken me up.’

‘And if I had, you would have complained all morning.’

I hate to admit it, he’s kind of right.

I clutched my own mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers as I counted each blimp suspended over the city. So far, nothing had changed from yesterday. But then again, it also wasn’t noon yet. Slowly drinking my coffee, I sighed. ‘I guess I’ll just have to drink twice as much now.’

Chishiya didn’t even bother entertaining me with a reply. He seemed content with the peace and quiet. Only, when he finally set down his empty mug, he reached for the extra one.

I raised a brow. ‘I thought you didn’t want it.’

He began to drink it anyway. ‘These cups are too small.’

I dipped my head into my mug to hide my smile, although knowing him, he probably saw it anyway. The sun was now gleaming above the empty city, nearly at its highest point in the sky. Apprehension swelled uncomfortably within me, and I wrapped my arms around my knees while I finished my coffee. ‘Are you going to go to the Jack of Diamonds today?’

‘The Queen and King too,’ he said. ‘I’ll work my way up.’

It was fine. It was fine. Chishiya was clever enough to survive, and I had every confidence that he would complete the games easily. More importantly, he was the most intelligent person I’d ever met. If anyone stood a chance at clearing the Diamond face cards so we could all go home, it was him. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared.

He could still get hurt. He could still...

It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘At least let me come with you.’ Before he could protest or decline, I added, ‘Just to wait outside. I can’t sit here, not knowing anything.’

His expression was guarded as he downed the last of his coffee. ‘Do what you want. Although you might be waiting a while. I don’t know how long the games will last.’

A loud gunshot blasted in the distance. I jumped, inching closer to Chishiya. He was stone still. Another shot ricocheted, the clap echoing off the concrete skyscrapers. Were guns usually that loud? Loud enough to be heard all the way from here? This sounded almost like an explosion, only sharper.

Something’s not right.

And I knew exactly what.

Chishiya set his second empty mug on the rooftop. ‘It’s started.’

-----------------------------------------------

The city streets were deserted, yet I couldn’t help but stay on my guard. While the games were contained to their venues, that gunfire before hadn’t been normal – I’d witnessed enough of Niragi’s sniper to know the difference. It had gone on for several minutes, before eventually ebbing away, and only then did we set out for the Jack of Diamonds venue.

Despite the threat of the games ahead, Chishiya appeared relaxed on the surface, but there was a slight crease between his brows, and his eyes scanned every alleyway we passed, occasionally drifting to our reflections in store windows. His hands were pushed into his pockets, and I didn’t dare try to hold one.

‘Are you worried about the game?’ I kept my voice low, just in case.

‘You shouldn’t have come with me.’

I thought we’d already talked about this.

There was no way I could sit around in our little hideout, never knowing whether or not he was going to come back. I needed to be there. I needed to see the outcome with my own eyes.

‘You told me to do what I want,’ I said. ‘And this is what I want. I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Those guns were probably from a game.’

‘Maybe... maybe not,’ he mused.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Chishiya may not be the easiest person to read, but we both knew what he was really trying to say. We rounded a corner, heading further into the city centre. From what we could see of the blimps, the Jack, Queen and King of Diamonds were all pretty close to one another, and all within a reachable distance from the furniture store.

‘You should be more worried about your game,’ I remarked.  

‘Why?’

‘What do you mean, ‘why’? You could... you know.’

‘If I die, it’ll be of no consequence for you,’ he said. ‘And besides, I’ll die at some point anyway. There’s no use in trying to avoid it.’

His words no longer scared me, but rather, they were upsetting. How could he be so cavalier about it?

He really doesn’t care about his own life...

‘It does have consequence. I told you in the dealer’s den, didn’t I? If you’re not going to try and survive for yourself, then at least do it for me.’

The corner of his mouth lifted into that familiar sly smile. ‘Such big demands. You shouldn’t waste your own life being concerned about mine.’

We crossed the road, entering a new street, and the metal edge of a blimp appeared in the far distance.

‘I think I told you about that too. I can’t help being scared for you.’ I glanced away, looking instead at the side of a van. The words still felt strange to say out loud, even if I’d said them so brazenly during the Witch Hunt. ‘I lo—’

The van door erupted in a hot blast of glass and metal. The force blew me back, stumbling, as something struck my face. Hands gripped my forearms, dragging me away from the ground – I was on the ground? – and pulling me in a direction. I didn’t know where we were. The streets were shaking, or maybe I was. Maybe the whole world was shaking. And was that Chishiya in front of me?

Chishiya?

There was red in his blond hair and on his neck, wet and glistening. And his fingers were tight – far too tight – around my wrist. Where was he going? My feet were moving after him. No, he was the one dragging me like this, swaying us back and forth erratically. My eyes began to focus, the fog in my head clearing a little.

The gunshots... and that van. But how could a gun do that to a van?

‘Chishiya?’

If he heard me, his only response was to pull me harder until his fingernails dug into my skin. My numb legs jittered and tingled, but I tried my best to keep up with him. There was a strange humming above our heads, and I looked up, catching sight of a blimp overshadowing the office buildings above, darkening their windows and...

A gleam.

‘Chishiya!’

Glass exploded everywhere as the store window behind us shattered. Someone screamed – they sounded like me, only I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t... Someone tugged at my clothes, but I tore away, sprinting as fast as I could down the street. There was a shooter. There was someone shooting at us.

Side to side... I need to run from side to side.

As I ran, I veered in different directions, trying to keep things as unpredictable as possible. I ducked around corners and alleys, only to realise something. Chishiya was nowhere to be seen.

Don’t panic.

I slowed, breathless, as I swung onto another street, dipping behind a store.

Don’t panic.

The store crashed apart; the windows destroyed. Arms shielding my face, I toppled to the ground, coughing uncontrollably at the smell of hot plastic as mannequin limbs scattered the pavement.

I needed to run... I needed to run. My head was throbbing and burning now. Picking myself up, I pushed to keep going, running no matter how much my limbs ached. There was a strange buzzing noise that clashed painfully with the ringing in my ears.

And then I saw a glimmer of hope.

Across a traffic intersection was a large, off-white building with endless windows, marked 図書館. The entrance door shut softly as someone took shelter inside.

There!

The buzzing noise grew louder and louder, and my vision swam as I tore across the empty roads and into the building, slamming the door behind me. My legs finally gave way, and I collapsed against the wall, my eyes closing as I caught my breath.

Chishiya. I lost sight of him after that window was destroyed. Maybe he ran in the other direction. Or maybe... No.

He can’t be. He wouldn’t, not that easily.

‘It’s you.’

My eyes shot open at the familiar voice. Of all people to bump into, An was staring down at me with mild concern. It was An. Surging with relief, I tried to get to my feet to greet her, only my head flashed with dizzying pain.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Don’t get up. You’ll need your strength.’ I didn’t understand. She came in here to shelter too, right? Before I could question her, she crouched down in front of me and gently touched my forehead. Her fingers came back red. ‘What happened?’

My lungs ached with each syllable. Just getting the words out was a struggle. ‘苣屋一緒...にいた. ダイヤモンドのジャックに... 行っていた. 銃の音... が聞きた. すべて...’ I was together with Chishiya... We were going to the Jack of Diamonds... I heard gun sounds... and then everything...

I didn’t know the words for ‘gunshots’ or ‘explosion’, but An still nodded in understanding. Her eyes narrowed a little at Chishiya’s name, only she didn’t appear to be surprised by what I told her.

‘That’ll be the King of Spades. His sniper isn’t a regular gun. It’s designed to penetrate airships and armoured cars apparently.’

I didn’t understand the latter half of what she said, but one name stuck out unmistakably.  

The King of Spades?

‘どう知ってるか?’ I asked. How do you know?

An gestured behind her, and I finally noticed the two women anxiously watching us. One had long, flowing blond hair and was wearing a thin headband. The other had brown hair tied up in pigtails. ‘He attacked our camp right after the second stage started.’

So those were the gunshots we heard on the roof. And their camp...

‘Kuina?’

An lowered her head to the tiled floor. ‘I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know where she is. She left in a car with Arisu and Tatta. We were in a separate car and we drove all the way here.’

Kuina... she has to be alive. I refuse to believe otherwise.

She was strong and smart, and if she drove away with those two, she was probably okay.

Probably.

It made sense that the King of Spades started with their group, then travelled further into the city centre before running into Chishiya and I. But if he was moving to attack players then that could only mean... A sickening feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

‘彼のゲーム会場,’ I said, ‘全部の東京だね?’ His game venue. It’s all of Tokyo, isn’t it?

‘It seems that way,’ An said, adjusting her sunglasses. ‘From what I can assume, the only place that isn’t his game venue is within other games.’ She glanced reassuringly at the other girls behind her. ‘While we’re in here, we should be safe from him, at least.’

At least?

A horrible thought slipped into my mind. A really, really horrible thought. But I almost didn’t want to believe it. It would be too unlucky – a downright cruel trick of fate.

My apprehensiveness must’ve been obvious, as An tilted her head, curiously. ‘You didn’t know,’ she murmured. ‘この建物はダイヤモンドの女王会場だ.’

No, it couldn’t be true. Maybe I misheard. I had to have misheard. My mind ran in circles, desperate to find Chishiya, to go home and finish my sentence, tell him what I tried to say before the van windows burst. But Chishiya wasn’t here. I didn’t know where he was. I was alone.

Assuming I hadn’t quite understood, An said it again, slower this time. There was no need. My fate was already sealed the moment I took shelter here.

‘This is the Queen of Diamonds venue.’

[blues-valentine]

I hate when i hear ‘alina has no personality’ bc she does, same goes with mal, i hear it all the time how he is bland but if you actually pay attention he is really funny..I get annoyed at hearing this especially when its met with love for the darkling like whats his personality... evil?

It’s ironic when I see someone say Alina has not personality because they sure do love their headcanons and metas about Alina’s feelings for Darkles, they love to claim is a 'complex' dynamic but shouldn’t Alina need to have conflicting internal battles for it to work? But most importantly, why do they ship Darkles with Alina so hard if she "has not personality"?Are they admitting that they self insert into Alina? Or isn’t only that Alina doesn’t have a personality when she isn’t doing what they want her to do? That they put Alina’s value only when it comes to Darkles and have been ignoring (because we know they have) Alina’s feelings and desires? As far as I’m concerned a personality means having patterns of thinking, feeling and behavior, and Alina does have those which makes her battle to reject greed for power and don’t let darkness take over is her whole plot the entire trilogy.

Alina starts off the trilogy as a teenager girl, an orphan with not sure future - she’s a soldier to the country, her duty is to stand for them, to obey their rules. She feels insecure, lonely, with a strong need of attention, to feel special — something that Darkles takes completely advantage of and plays with her insecurities. But apart from her insecurities she has a good sense of humor, she stands up for herself countless of times, she’s incredible clever and self analyzing, we see that she’s a loyal friend — and her mentality is completely changing throughout the books — we see her contemplate darkness, we see what extreme loneliness and despair can do to her, we see her reject darkness over her friends, over the people, over light — we see so much grown.

I understand the people that don’t particularly likes Alina — but I wonder, how much of their vision of Alina has to do with them self-inserting and finding it incredible frustrating that she isn’t delivering what they want? It also comes with them downplaying and calling Alina a "maid" for choosing a quiet life instated of one full of luxury, a crown, or crazy of it all — a life with her abuser. All because they want Alina to be some "girl boss" and the opposite of that is boring — not personality, they said.

About Mal, I have seen it over and over again when it comes to some male characters or male love interest that are devoted to the same girl for the whole series. Mal is a character that serves as a reminder of what Alina used to be before "becoming a grisha", he is the character that keeps Alina grounded, the one that knows her way before being a saint and is able to remind her of her changes (including the negative ones). Despite Mal being on Alina’s POV he is one of the ones that feel the most human — he goes from anger, desperation, grief, insecurity, displacement to ultimately resignation and self-sacrifice. I love that he takes his shitty situation as he should, which makes him interesting, inusual, i love that he isn’t being painted as a ‘overly charismatic' male interest for the readers amusement but actually infuriating because it’s relatable.

I also always find it amusing because they claim "Mal is only there for Alina — he has not plot" yet, he is the most important person on the trilogy — he keeps the plot moving forward because he is the only one capable of finding the amplifies, without him, there’s not Alina feeling greed for power (and at the same time being grounded by him), there’s not Darkles forcing him to find the amplifiers. Nothing. There’s not Grisha Trilogy without Mal Oretsev. And by the way Mal is literally the most debated character in the trilogy, I must say for a character that is "very bland" most make hating him their entire personality.

Truly, I don’t care if people find any of those characters "bland" but I always find that those claims are always tainted with a bit of "I didn’t get what I want" feeling to it — most people hate Mal because they see him as the person that 'prevented' Alina from becoming a 'girl boss' despite Mal not doing absolutely anything except giving Alina what she wanted (power) and stepping out of her way, and at the end, what Alina wanted and chose for herself wasn’t what they self inserted into. (Also, Darkles is the most boring written villain ever, some people think stanning villains is a personality).

[ladybirdwithoutdots]

(long post about) why I love Flynn’s Mr. Knightley (and this version of the romance)

Someone said that the best thing about Emma 2020′s Mr Knightley is the fact we see the story from his pov too. I was thinking about that a bit more and I think, indeed, it’s a correct take and the reason why I love him too.

First of all,  I think Johnny Flynn did a great work balancing the assuredness and seriousness of the character with his funny and sweet side, and he surprisingly embodies the down-to-earth, eccentric gentleman side of the character and his yourthful, sensible, passionate, soft masculinity energy.   He’s 37, just like Knightley, and I know some think the age difference between him and Emma should be always over the top obvious but this interpretation isn’t, IMO, so consistent with how Austen actually depicts their relationship and the character for she describes him as youthful and effervescent for a gentleman of his status, and you see his maturity only when he argues with her (in the movie you see that when she kisses him too for he does come across as much more experienced than her there ;) ), but he’s otherwise young and not so ‘fatherly’ to her.

I like all the Mr Knightley, I think they all bring something different to the character, but it’s true that in other adaptations he’s forced to tone down his feelings a bit more. I think it’s because the novel is from Emma’s pov, and his love comes as a surprise to her in the end, so other adaptations try to misdirect Emma and the audience a bit. IMHO, it would've been a mistake if yet another adaptation handled his character like that, though, and I can see why a female creative team humanized the character a bit giving him a bit more agency too.

Mr Knightley's love and jealousy for Emma challenge his self-control in the novel. He dislikes Frank without even meeting him just because Emma talks about him. He is surprisingly impulsive when he runs away to London because he thinks Emma is attached to Frank. With the same impulsivity, he leaves his brother and rides under the rain to get to Emma as soon as possible when he thinks she’s distressed over the news about Frank’s engagement to Jane. His declaration of love is something that just happens, without any premeditation or control, because he simply can't help it anymore. Most of this turmoil happens offscreen, though, within the walls of his lonely house and when he runs away from Emma and stays with his brother after Box Hill.  It’s only in the end that you get his pov a bit but you are otherwise not privy to all the details.

Autumn de Wilde chose to show his transformation and turmoil.  His affection for Emma (and jealousy) is obvious from the beginning but Johnny Flynn keeps enough ambiguity to make it believable when, after dancing with Emma, the realization that he’s in love with her and he can’t hide it anymore briefly trasforms his character into a lovesick fool.  I find most of their choices with the character are a clever way to extrapolate his pov in the story from the ‘if i loved you less’ line for you do see he is always struggling with his feelings, torn between the fact he wants to tell her, and the fact he doesn’t think she loves him back or it’s too late for him because of Frank’s interference. For some people, scenes such as the one where he has a meltdown after the ball because of his feelings for Emma will be very familiar, and they will recognize what is happening to him on screen for what the director intended it: a panic attack.  It’s real for a character who, since the beginning, is the most human. And it’s valid because when you think about Mr Knightley and what he goes through even in the novel, he has many reasons to be heartbroken for he really, really, loves her and there is so much conflict in him for many reasons.

Unlike what some writers, and even the audience sometimes might think, those moments where you see his feelings and vulnerabilities don’t make him weak, they just make him (just like in the novel) simply human and make you understand that it isn’t just Emma that has a journey but Knightley too who has his assuredness challenged by love. I think I also realized why they deleted this:

It’s because they gave his character more agency. The scene in the movie keeps the same energy of the one in the novel even without him touching her. Especially because he doesn’t touch her. Because he can’t. You can feel he wants to tell her much more but he can’t. He struggles even looking at her. I think there is another reason why they changed this scene a bit, though: it’s Emma and how this movie develops the romance from her side too. In the book, Emma realizes at last that she had always been in love with him but one of the reasons why she hadn’t realized her feelings before is because she took him for granted. She is mature enough to admit it to herself: she was always sure of the fact she was first for him and his affection for her was unquestioned. It’s only in the end, when she realizes she could lose him that she’s forced to admit her feelings for him. This movie emphasizes this all the more by taking out the detail above because here Emma needs to see his feelings (even if she still doesn’t know why he acts this way. She just thinks she has ruined their relationship and lost his affection), and that he isn’t someone to take for granted. This forces her to realize her feelings for him all the more.

In the novel,  the journey of Emma’s feelings and realization is in her thoughts for the most part; it’s the (amusing) contraddiction between what she thinks she feels and what her thoughts actually hint that give you the clues about her feelings for him even before she realizes them herself. Realistically, we have to recognize that this isn’t something that a film adaptation can easily convey on screen and sometimes, Emma’s feelings for him may feel very sudden in the end if there isn’t enough build up. In this movie they changed this a bit so you see Emma’s own journey a bit more: she’s attracted to him from the beginning, she’s jealous of Jane (changing the singing scene so that it’s Mr Knightley and Jane was a clever, yet effective, way to include Emma’s jealousy from that moment in the book where Mrs Weston makes that comment about them), she shows her attraction for him in the dance scene (a nod to book Emma also finding him hot there even while it’s with Frank she’s dancing). The ‘not brother and sister’ scene is also handled well for it’s a foundamental moment for me because it’s the moment where you not only realize he’s in love with her, but Emma is subconsciously trying to tell him she’s not his sister and he can thus see her as a woman and possible partner. In the movie Emma does feel that something between them is different from before.. and then, at last, she realizes she had been in love with him the whole time. As I said at the beginning, other adaptations tend to relegate their romance to the last act, the very end, a bit only because it’s where Emma realizes her feelings and the fact they keep Mr Knightley more aloof and surprising as a love interest is a way to misdirect the audience too.  But!  Who are you kidding??? Everyone knows who ends up with in Emma and that she and Mr Knightley are in love! So why not place their romance to the foreground from the beginning, for once?  It’s actually a clever way to include and emphasize a lot of things from the novel too that would get lost, not least the subtle, Austen-clever, journey to Emma’s feelings too.

(sorry for the wall of text!)

[wyndlerunner]

My Ranking of the Cosmere Novellas/Short Stories

(Going to try to avoid major spoilers for these works in case you haven’t gotten to them yet, but proceed at your own risk)

1) The Emperor’s Soul - An absolute 10/10.  Beautiful in every way.  A piece of art to rival Shai’s own work.  One of Branderson’s most unique protagonists.  Commentary about art and its relationship to its creator.  The dynamic between Shai and Gaotona *chef’s kiss*.  One of the few Sanderson works that acknowledges that good people in government does not benefit the people unless they’re willing to make systemic changes and pursue justice for everyone in their society.  Not surprised that this is the piece that finally got Branderson his Hugo award

2) Mistborn: Secret History - 9/10.  An automatic second place because of how critical it is to the greater Cosmere.  An in-text reference to Adonalsium? Check.  Confirmed worldhoppers from Threnody, Taldain, and Sel, with the bonus appearance of a fabrial? Check.  Kelsier’s tenderness towards Vin? Anime fight between Hoid and Kelsier?  Closure for some of our favs from Era 1?  Check, check, and check.  Not as beautifully crafted as the Emperor’s Soul, which is why I’m not giving it a 10, but a must-read for the Cosmere

3)  Dawnshard - 9/10.  Refreshingly different from the other Stormlight books. Representation of disabilities and bilingualism/experiences of immigrants.  Automatic two-stars for cat/larken mom, Rysn. Lopen’s little arc was also a punch in the gut, and so different from other character arcs in Sanderson’s books.  The Lore implications in this book are arguably almost as important as Secret History’s, but I’m placing it third because Sanderson kind of cheated with this novel-length “novella”.

4) Shadows for Silence in the Forests of Hell - 8/10.  A wild ride that I absolutely enjoyed.  Silence Montane is one of my favorite Cosmere women.  A mother willing to do anything for her children?  Down for murder?  Savvy, clever, and subtle in her craft?  This woman is everything to me.  Very different compared to the rest of the Cosmere, but not as unique when compared to the greater genre.  If someone chose this as their first Sanderson read, they wouldn’t get a good idea of his style or world building, but the implications to the Cosmere endgame are wild.  Ripe for fan theories

5) Sixth of the Dusk - 7/10.  I would die on Patji.  Actually, I wouldn’t even get to shore.  But I loved it still.  The recurring symbolism with the feather and individual arrogance?  The secret behind the Aviar? The relationship between the trappers and their love for their Aviar above all else?  The ending theme about how unchecked capitalism leads to exploitation?  A solid Sanderson read

6) Edgedancer - 6.5/10.  I like Lift as a character, but 50k words of her POV narration is a little tiring.  A full star for grumpy Wyndle and his usefulness in giving us good Lore. I liked getting to see parts of Roshar we hadn’t encountered yet, and seeing parts that often get left out of the royal POVs that make up the main series. A solid read but not particularly outstanding amongst Sanderson’s other short works

7) The Eleventh Metal  - 5/10.  Good backstory for Kelsier but didn’t have a ton of substance and wasn’t particularly memorable.  Didn’t dislike it, but wouldn’t go back to reread, whereas  the other works above add value with each reread

8) The Hope of Elantris - 4/10.  An underwhelming read that was alright, and just short enough that I didn’t get too annoyed with it.   It gets a star because Dashe is a legitimately good father and we know that the Cosmere could use every one of those that it can get.  An extra star because of the author’s note at the end of it and the kindness that compelled Branderson to even write this little piece.  If 13-year-old me knew that my favorite author made me the main character in one of his stories, I would have wept.  I’m sure real life Matisse was similarly moved

9) Allomancer Jak and the Pits of Eltania - 1/10  I know he was writing this to feel like an old-timey western story but I couldn’t stand it.  A few paragraphs from the newspaper clippings in Era 2 were fun and refreshing, but a whole short story made me want to bang my head on the wall.  I skimmed through this purely for the Lore, and I really only got some information about how the Koloss are made, but not much more than you can glean yourself from reading the Mistborn novels and other shorts. Not really worth reading except for the street-cred of claiming you’ve read every Cosmere work

[touchmycoat]

qijiu bingqiu (bingliushen??) fix-it fic planning blabber

so i think i gotta keep it tight on SJ’s POV. Right before his death, he makes a deal with Xin Mo (who’s kind of a lone operator bc LBH too has to fight its power) to create this alternate timeline in exchange for his cultivation. Xin Mo can open up new dimensions no problem, and with SJ’s cultivation, it even manages to rewind the timeline. That’s not enough though—Xin Mo’s goal is only consumption, so it takes the deal but reveals there’s nothing that will actually change. The price SJ paid only opened the door.

But that’s fine, ‘cause SJ saw it coming. He also strikes another deal, this time with Death itself? Some sort of large cosmic force. The only thing he wants changed is Qi-ge’s death, and in exchange...the universe takes him. SJ will not get to exist in that second universe. SJ takes the deal.

And that’s the start of canon. SJ-as-SQQ can no longer exist. Instead, SY-as-SQQ is brought in. In order to stay cohered though, YQY’s memories and personality get a little glitched—he is physically incapable of recognizing all the ways SQQ is now not SJ. That’s why, despite SY-as-SQQ clearly being OOC, YQY never seems to see it.

Canon happens, now we’re in the post-canon world where bingqiu are married and settling down, but SQQ still kicks it with his buddies LQG and YQY every now and then. YQY still firmly believes SQQ is SJ, to SY’s increasing consternation. Is it just delusions and wishful thinking? The more YQY treats him as SJ though, the worse SY feels—he shouldn’t be stealing all this affection that doesn’t belong to him.

It all comes to head when SQQ overhears public opinion on YQY, how he’s perfect in everything but his crazy devotion to SQQ. SY thinks enough is enough. He can’t bring SJ back but he sure can tell YQY that his Xiao Jiu is dead, right? The System warns him he’ll be punished but that’s fine, it’s just not fair, SQQ can take another little mental horror trip down to BinggeLand if it means YQY can have some closure.

Except that’s not what happens. He gets YQY in private and says, “no, you don’t understand, Shen Jiu is dead.” He sees the recognition in YQY’s eyes, but he also sees the moment that recognition gets wiped. The sad smile that had fallen off of YQY’s face returns, eerily happy, as YQY says, “my apologies, Qingqiu-shidi, I must have spaced out just now, what did you say?”

Right before the System kicks him into another punishment phase, SY tries again: “Shen Jiu is dead!” He sees the recognition disappear once again from YQY’s eyes.

Inside the punishment world, Bingge has him again. “I’ve been searching for an answer to why the sniveling pathetic version of me gets you as his Shizun, and I think I figured it out.” For a moment, SY’s horrified by the possibility that Bingge has figured out his transmigrator status—if his punishment figures it out, would he be trapped inside the punishment forever? But instead, Bingge says, “Liu Qingge is still alive, meaning Shizun didn’t kill him in the spirit caves. Did his survival render such a dramatic change?” SQQ”s like “yup, yup that’s definitely it. We’re such good friends, he really changed my outlook on life, so I treated you better, mhm.”

“Shizun’s very clever then to save his own life this way. Xin Mo’s already told me about your little bargain.”

That’s how SY learns that SJ had made a deal. Holy shit, he’d thought it was just random phenomenon this whole time, but the original goods had made it all possible? He didn’t know whether to thank SJ or curse him.

But that can’t be the whole story—Xin Mo opened up a timeline, that doesn’t explain why SY is here. Bingge doesn’t know this part, but it sure feels like SJ made a second deal, paying with his life.

What would motivate the original goods to do all this? Sacrifice his hard-won cultivation and his entire existence in this last-ditch effort?

The memory of YQY’s glitching came to mind.

Holy shit. SY owns the two of them more than he’d ever thought.

After the punishment, SY goes back home. He’s with Binghe, and LBH can tell there’s something troubling him.

“Binghe, there’s something this husband wants to do, and I need your help to do it.”

“Shizun, anything.”

“...But there’s a risk it might hurt you. There’s a risk it might ruin everything. It might be straight-forward, but it also might not be. It’s safer for all of us—but especially you, Binghe—if I just let things be.”

“But it’s not something that Shizun can just let be, is it? Otherwise Shizun wouldn’t have said anything. Binghe is honored to help. Anything to ease Shizun’s mind.”

“...I promised I wouldn’t let you come to harm again, and I meant that. Whatever happens, remember that I am your husband, this is my call, and you must do whatever you need to do to protect yourself, okay? Swear to me, Binghe.”

SQQ begins figuring out how to use Xin Mo to go fetch SJ from the other timeline. He figures that if Bingge could exist in this dimension without destroying the space-time continuum, the same ought to be true for SJ. Only trouble is, he can only go get SJ after SJ’s made the deals, because otherwise it’s a paradox, and he wouldn’t exist.

So SQQ brings home limbless, post-torture!SJ. That’s where the fic starts.

By all accounts, the deals are squared: SJ no longer has cultivation and SJ died in SY’s dimension, so SY successfully exists. SJ and SY can exist in the same space totally fine, and SJ begins healing.

(Currently, the fic is completely from SJ’s POV, and very much about coming to terms with being saved and what the hell is going on in this better world.)

The trouble is, SY doesn’t know what’s going to happen when SJ meets YQY again. SJ very thoroughly declines the offer to go see YQY because part of SJ still believes this whole thing is a trick, and if he goes to see YQY he’ll ruin his end of the bargain and YQY will die again. For SY’s part, he’s afraid of SJ going to see YQY too for similar but opposite reasons—if SJ going to see YQY ruins SJ’s end of the bargain, then wouldn’t that mean SY can no longer exist? Would SY just disappear from this universe?

So we get ragtag group therapy fun times. SJ thinks this is probably all an illusion Xin Mo is tricking him with, so treats everything with scorn but also existential apathy. This actually works to his benefit because he’s not clinging to things as hard, and it’s easier for him to admit, for example, that he was definitely in the wrong for abusing LBH, and yeah he was being a spiteful bitch when he did not need to be.

SY tries to keep LBH away from SJ mostly, because c’mon, he’s not about to make his darling husband face his childhood abuser. He does explain the situation to LBH though, in the same terms that Bingge had (mis)understood it lmfao—that the act of saving LQG’s life had prompted an entire 180 on his personality so he came out of the spirit caves a better man. LBH’s jealous as fuck of course, but damn if that doesn’t explain some things. Given the opportunity to see his old and new Shizun side-by-side, LBH takes it, and really gets a moment to see how horribly he’s been treated by SQQ.

So it actually prompts some therapy between SY and LBH too. LBH used to figure that getting pushed into the Abyss was squared by SQQ sacrificing himself to save him. But ofc it turned out SQQ came back and kept on, in his perspective, trying to get away from him. Trying to leave him behind. SQQ’s tried to treat his abandonment issues by going “okay sorry about that I’ll never leave you behind again” but he’s never really explained it.

SJ’s presence gives Binghe the ability to ask the question again and gives SY an answer: shame and cowardice. They’re able to put SJ’s mistreatment of Binghe right in front of them and SY-as-SQQ gets to explain how much it hurt to look back on that bit of their past, but also how much he feared LBH's retaliation. LBH is a little hurt, but also he remembers how he’d raped SQQ under Xin Mo’s control and, looking at what’s left of SJ now, he sees his own darkest possibilities. He really did destroy the man he loves now in another timeline. That helps him contextualize SY’s fears and why SY chose to push him off the cliff.

LQG crashlands into the middle of this whole party as is his wont. He gets a little fix-it too maybe. SY very staunchly repeats the reason for his personality swap—saving LQG in that cave made him a Better Person™. Meeting the original goods again, LQG is forced to believe it. Or like, it doesn’t really matter to him either way, but now he really does see pre-cave SQQ and post-cave SQQ as two completely different people.

SJ though, has to swallow this really weird pill. He remembers trying to save LQG inside the cave but failing, and then getting blamed for LQG’s death. If he’d succeeded, he and LQG would’ve become...this close?? A life debt between them would’ve changed his outlook on life so much???

Well whatever. Now that he’s put down all his old posturing, he more readily gives his reasons for why LQG gets on his nerves so much: the insufferable confidence (arrogant prick), the skills to back it up (privileged bastard), and a flawless cultivator family with all the money and the training and the pedigree. (Meanwhile SY’s like “oh shit that’s me too hahahahah awkward, good thing he still thinks i’m him so he doesn’t just murder me immediately.)

LQG’s a little weirded out too. SY-as-SQQ is his favorite person in the world, so it’s hard to get angry at SJ-as-SQQ since they’re “the same person.” He’s more willing to talk all this out with SJ and brings up all their old beef on his side too: high-handed snootiness coupled with underhanded dick moves, also the whole sleeping-with-prostitutes thing hurting Cang Qiong’s reputation. Ofc they’re snapping at each other this whole time. “There’s no reason for you to do all that!”

SY intervenes if needed. “Actually there is.” Considering the fact that SJ gets indicted for so many things that actually turn out to be not his fault, SY figures he’ll just get it out there. “Remember Qiu Haitang’s accusations against me? I grew up a slave in that household. I grew up believing it was kill or be killed—it doesn’t make sabotaging others right, but...that’s why the Spirit Caves made such an impression on me. I learned it wasn’t just kill or be killed, I can also save people. It opened my eyes to everything I already had, and everything I should be grateful for.”

This is for both LQG and SJ. And it works, to some degree. SJ knows he managed to claw to the top of privilege, but he still felt horribly insecure there. That’s because, he realizes, he never got the thing that would actually grant him security. It's not power or money or reputation—it’s Qi-ge. Holy hell he misses Qi-ge. In anger and betrayal, he’d pushed YQY continuously out of his life, but when faced with certain death the only regret he actually had was bringing Qi-ge down with him. YQY was meant to have survived, and in this world, he did.

So now, after all that, SJ really, really wants to go see his Qi-ge. It’s nice to have survived (and gotten part of his power back—at the very beginning, SY gives one of SQQ’s eyes to SJ as a bit of his golden core in order to save SJ’s life), but it’s so damn hard to live on in this world knowing YQY is only so far away, still very deeply attached to Xiao Jiu.

They try to Cyrano it at first. SY-as-SQQ goes to YQY with SJ’s voice in his ear, telling SY how to treat YQY as him. YQY is so fucking touched and hopeful, and SY is damn uncomfortable. He goes running back to SJ and says it’s not going to work—it’s not going to work because he’s no longer Qi-ge’s Xiao Jiu. He’s Luo Binghe’s husband, okay? He can’t go back to YQY as SJ.

SJ’s fucking furious at first (what kind of shitty variation of himself saves LQG’s life and then falls out of love with Qi-ge???? bitch?????) but what can he do? LQG tells them YQY’s on his way here and SJ hides for now. They still don’t know what will happen if SJ meets YQY, so SY continues to front as SJ for now.

But during this conversation, something changes. Maybe YQY says something, but SJ realizes he’s actually a little willing to take this chance. If Qi-ge does disappear—easy, he’d just kill himself right after. He’d already experienced Qi-ge’s death twice before, and at least this time, he can follow, knowing he’s at least reconciled with Qi-ge through SY.

And if he disappears on his own, then at least he knows there’s a world in which Qi-ge does not die horribly. That’s enough for him.

That, however, leaves the very last possibility—that SY will disappear. At this point both LQG and LBH have figured this out, and are very, very reluctant to let this be the scenario. They don’t see it as two people, they see it as their version of SQQ vs. YQY’s version of SQQ.

So there’s a little tension, but in the end, SY gets the final choice. As soon as he learns SJ is willing to go see YQY, he chooses that path. He simply owes qijiu too much to deny them the possibility of reconciliation. So despite knowing he might disappear from Binghe and LQG’s life, he makes it happen.

(They should get a very painful goodbye scene.)

SY goes out to explain things. “Zhangmen-shixiong may have noticed my change since my qi deviation and the spirit caves.” “I’m happy Xiao Jiu has a brighter outlook on life.” “Yes, but I think Qi-ge, of all people, might actually prefer how I was before, right?” “If Xiao Jiu’s happy, I’m happy.” “Yes, but Shen Jiu wants you. Is that alright?” “—of course. I want Xiao Jiu too—”

SJ comes out. Everyone holds their breath.

Scene cut.

It’s said that Cang Qiong’s Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan disappeared suddenly one afternoon...

But jk, YQY just ran away with SJ, they’re recuperating in the mountains and everybody’s fine and it’s a happy ending.

[xiaoquanquans]

at my disposal

sypnosis : y/n and chishiya became allies after y/n had saved chishiya from getting killed in a game of tag . they helped each other stay alive in the borderlands while also collecting all the needed cards to return back to the real world . after following chishiya around religiously , y/n had fallen hard for chishiya and he had explained to her that he did not care for her and would do anything to keep himself alive . all the remaining players had split out to collect the face cards . y/n and chishiya were focusing on completing the diamond cards . but chishiya did what he had to survive .

tw warnings : swearing , manipulation , death , betrayal , mentions of alcohol , self harm , blood , depression ( do not read if you somehow relate to the tw’s , i genuinely care okay ? take care of yourself bby 🖤 )

notices :

• MANGA SPOILERS!!

• mixed pov’s

• the game announcer speaks in bold and sly remarks or important sentences are written in italic

• lowercase

• this ff might be a bit confusing , because it’s a knowledge diamond based game

• chishiya’s true nature / canon chishiya

• gender neutral reader

• not proof-read

—

the game that we will be playing is the keynesian beauty contest . difficulty K♦️. henceforth, the rules shall be explained . within one minute all of you will pick a number from 0 to 100 . after everyone has entered their numbers , an average number will be taken from the addition of the numbers of all the 5 players . the player that has the closest number to the average number will be the winner and earn one point.

here we were , all five of us facing each other at this pentagon shaped table awaiting for our deaths . the rules were simple , win or die .

if you get an answer wrong you’ll receive -1 point. it’s game over for those who reach -10 points.

kuzuryuu keiichi , the third highest executive at the Beach was directly facing me , chishiya was to my left and an additional two players as well .

benzo, an wise old man and hinako a snobby looking woman .

upon heading the rules it was obvious that only one of us would make it out alive . i wished that i had known that before entering the courthouse .

i turned to face chishiya only to see him sneering at keiichi.

only one player will make it out alive .

-

chishiya

why was he so special to me , so intriguing .

i was the one who saved him but for some reason i’m also the one following him around .

i was a smart person , i figured it out quick .

it was obvious to me that i was in love with him , and he noticed it as well .

one day , we were both hanging around the poolside of the Beach far away from each other when we exchanged glances .

not long after he made his way towards me and pulled me aside .

he stared me blankly into my eyes , no emotion portrayed through them . listen , i’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me and it’s genuinely really annoying but you have to know .

i do not like you , i don’t want to like you and i never will . if we were in a bad situation i would not hesitate to sacrifice you to safe myself . i would use you at my disposal if i had to so stop giving me those looks , you should know that i hate them and i do not care about you .

after that day , we rarely exchanged words . but for some reason i still kept following him around . he was cold to everyone else , i wasn’t anyone special . but god forbid him , he was just so unique to me . he couldn’t keep me away from him and his god complex even if he wanted to .

-

before i could speak up i was quickly outspoken by keiichi .

“ you’ve all heard the rules . if you have no further questions we will continue and start the game. ”

chishiya snickered. he knew that it was going to be him . he knew that he was clever and he showcased that every chance he could .

he knew he would be the one to walk away from the court with the card in his hand . the K of diamonds would just merely be another addition to his substantial stack of cards that he had collected or as some might say , stole .

the first few rounds had passed and everyone had gotten the hang of the game . it was simple to everyone in the room . all you had to do was get the calculations right in the time limit of 5 minutes .

hinako spoke up , “ so this game , is merely a deduction of how far the opponents can calculate? ”

i let out a quiet laugh , everyone had already registered that after the first round and here she was only figuring it out now .

you made a bet with yourself , she’d be the first one out , if not the second .

“ but what we’re reading isn’t mentality but rationality . ” chishiya replied .

after a few rounds the tables weren’t turning , keiichi had been winning every round because of his solid strategy of everyone keying in either 0 or 1 . someone had to do something or else we’d all lose to him .

so i realised i had to change it up a bit .

i quickly inputted the number 100

it took everyone by surprise , i knew i had no chance of winning because 100 was definitely too far from the average but i inspired the rest to take part in what i was doing while also taking away keiichi’s advantage.

a few more rounds passed and both Benzo and Hinako had reached -9 points . I was on -7 and Chishiya was on -8 . Keiichi was leading with -4 points .

Both Benzo and Hinako were one point away from death , so they had to be extra careful in the next round .

Unfortunately for them , they guessed a number that was too off from the answer , causing the acid on top of them to pour down , melting and disintegrating their bodies until they were gone .

Chishiya smirked at it . Their lives had meant nothing to them and so did yours . He knew what he had to do after this . How he could ensure his survival by taking you out .

-

and here you were , in the pitch black bar of the Beach . gulping down bottles of alcohol , trying your best to forget about what had happened . you weren’t weak , you kept telling yourself that even if you didn’t believe it . but deep down you knew you were .

once you were done with your bottle you slammed it against the counter , breaking it into hundreds of shards .

you took the biggest one you could find and lifted up your sleeve .

this wouldn’t be your first mark, your arm was filled with lines that were distinct in width from past experiences that you had before coming to the Borderlands .

before you could hesitate you did it . the glass shard sliced it’s way through your skin with ease .

you dropped the shard out of pain causing it to break off into many smaller pieces .

once again you scavenged for more alcohol , looking for fire whiskey which was something that could help numb the pain .

after minutes of searching you finally found a bottle-

“ y/n what happened , why is the whole bar in a mess? ”

you turned around to face kuina , a look of worry was displayed all over her face .

she made eye contact for a moment before looking down towards your arm .

“ what were you thinking? ” you heard her mutter .

she quickly took the bottle of whiskey out of your hand and placed it on the counter , after that she slowly brought you to the other side of the bar due to there being shards of glass everywhere on the floor.

once she sat you down she went to look for a medkit, leaving you to yourself and your thoughts . kuina took as little time as she could because she knew you weren’t in the right state of mine to be alone .

once she found the kit she rushed back to the bar , only to find that you’ve fainted from the all the loss of blood . it was a thin cut line but a very deep one , it looked like you might have even accidentally cut off a vein .

after you had woke up the next day you and kuina had a long talk and after that you felt much better .

until you ran into chishiya again on the same day.

-

since there are only 3 players remaining , a new rule will be added into the game. if two players pick the same number they will both get -2 points .

i was already on -8 , meaning any wrong choice would lead me to my death .

picking 0 or 1 would definitely lead me to my death , so I’ll choose a random number between 2 and 100

how about , 62 .

the results are in , chishiya is the winner , number 23.

-

y/n ( -10points )

chishiya (-8 points )

keiichi ( -7 points )

-

and that was it ,

endgame for me .

before accepting my death i had one question , how did he figure out i was going to pick 23 .

and as if he read my thoughts , chishiya spoke up .

“in order to distance yourself you would’ve picked a number in between 2 to 100 because 0 or 1 had the highest chances of being duplicates .

after clearing all the possibilities of you picking a random number i was left with 62 and 74.

and i chose between those , and to my luck you picked 62 and all i had to do from there was divide 62 in half . leaving me with 23.

with this , a player has reached -10 points , it is now game over for that participant .

chishiya laughed , “ like i said you’re at my disposal , should have listened the first time . ”

and those were the last words i heard before meeting my end .

- END -

tags: @donnyhateslife @hvrriicane @myloveforchishiya ( dm to be added to tag list )

oui oui love yall 💖

[sitp-recs]

An Emerald In The Sky by @corvuscrowned

Harry/Draco (2022, Mature, 6.6k)

The hardest part about shagging an Unspeakable is that they’re not allowed to speak of anything. All Draco knows is that Harry works in Time. Harry works in Time, and while he’s out there in all of that time, it is as unforgiving to him as it is to anyone. Somewhere along the way, Draco realizes he's been thinking in lines, when he should have been thinking in circles.

Harry kisses him. And this is exactly what Draco wanted. The kind of kiss that couldn’t endure the finishing of a sentence. The kind of love that can’t wait. But Draco wants more than a kiss. He wants more than one moment. He wants more than Harry can give.

Just like Draco, I’ve been patiently but eagerly sitting on this draft ready to lose my shit with Wireless reveals, only to find out that Crow is to blame for my mental health the one who wrote my favourite fic of the year! God, how I loved this one (my friends can attest as I’ve made them all read it!). I’ve been so obsessed, have read it so many times already, that I just knew this had to be my first rec right after reveals. I’m being cautious to avoid spoilers here but to be clear this is not a mystery despite being mysterious, nor a case fic with high stakes, although one could argue it probably has the higher stakes of all. It’s not even what I’d call a traditional romance - more like a character study one? - but it certainly introduces the love of a lifetime.

From an emotional standpoint, I’ve always found time travel a rich and fascinating trope; there are so many fun possibilities but because most prioritize time loops with happy endings, we tend to forget that time travel can also lend itself to poignant angst and thought-provoking explorations of time, aging, ill-advised falling in love. Emerald reminded me of that triad in the most beautiful way, with its evocative writing and intriguing summary. It is a short tale with impeccable pacing and superb pining, written in a clever way that makes my heart ache for both Harry and Draco in their humanity, hopes and limitations. That’s probably my favourite thing about this fic, now I think about it: how we learn so much about one character through the other, and the ways the narrative makes them both human, flawed and sympathetic.

Anyone who’s enjoyed The Time Traveller’s Wife will be fascinated by Draco’s POV, as the perspective of those who wait. We witness his growing melancholy and changes of heart from wonder to bitterness to resigned acceptance, slowly coming to terms with falling in love with an Unspeakable who will be repeatedly taken away from him. It’s a grieving process for both Draco and the reader, to understand the ways we are helpless facing the designs of time. But in my opinion there’s also some comfort in how fate and free will get confronted - choosing to love someone in such circumstances is an act of courage and no one can take it away. Harry and Draco prove that by loving fiercely and inevitably, and the ways they’re pulled into each other, meeting time and again, unable to stay but unwilling to leave, knowing that no amount of time will ever be enough… ahhh 💔

Finally, I’m in love with the stars motif! Such a poetic and fitting take on Draco’s line of work, which of course connects his fascination with the unreachable to his longing for Harry. I love their conversation on this topic and the insights we get about Draco’s mind and heart in one of the rare moments he opens up. It’s so cleverly executed I almost went there with the banner, but I feel like the one I chose is more subtle and will hit those who’ve read this fic right in the feels! It’s also a nice way to intrigue and lure those who haven’t checked it yet ;)

This is a gorgeous read with a creative premise and the kind of complex and quiet devastation that always finds its way inside my heart. The idea of a solitary yet burning love that endures time travel mysteries and repeated heartbreak gave me every kind of emotion and made me revisit my favorite scenes every now and then just so I could relive that particular feeling once again. I’ve been thinking about this story for weeks and I know it will stay with me for a little longer. What are you waiting for?

Read on AO3

[jamespotterthefirst]

Winner Takes it All

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2K Warning: Language, Adult situations Summary: A kiss on a balcony in Miami (Ch 10) Series: Open Heart from Ethan’s POV

Author’s Note: I’m terrible at editing so sorry if there’s some Ethonks and Lilys. Also, I took a few liberties with the narration, even if the dialogue is the same. 

_____

The alcohol coursing through his veins did nothing to mellow out the pure blast of adrenaline Ethan was feeling. In suggesting they moved to the balcony, he had hoped the breathtaking view of the ocean would be enough to quell the excitement of the card game. His mistake had been thinking he could be anything but a whirlwind of emotions with her sitting by his side, looking so serene, it almost made the recklessness of the night appear like a lucid dream. 

“Naveen always hoped we’d find a way to make the diagnostics team publicly funded...So that no one will need to pay, no matter their insurance or income.”

She turned to glance at him and his breath involuntarily hitched. In the moonlight, cheeks flushed slightly from the wine, the blue of her dress complimenting her features perfectly, she looked nothing but striking. He was beginning to accept she would be lovely beyond comprehension in any light. 

“What will he think of getting Panacea Labs involved?”

Ethan paused, stomach coiling with guilt. “He’ll give me the worst chewing out of my life. And I’ll deserve it. I’ve compromised his vision, my ethics...But if he survives this...it’ll all have been worth it.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Ethan considered that, the music of the tide below them the only sound between them. 

“I don’t know. Ten years ago, I was right where you are. A wide-eyed intern, dreaming of what I’d do when I was an attending.” He glanced at her then, fighting the distraction of her clever eyes observing him so earnestly. “I certainly wasn’t dreaming of this.” 

Ethan glanced at the ocean again, letting his thoughts unravel. He would have never imagined back then that, as an attending, he would find himself desperately fighting to save his mentor. A flood of emotions overwhelmed him in the span of a second as he thought of what Naveen meant to him back then, of what he meant for Ethan now. 

Ten years ago, he also never imagined to be so utterly consumed by one of his interns. What would his past self think of Ethan now? Would the righteous, incorruptible young man he had been feel disgusted at how infatuated Ethan was with someone he was supposed to be mentoring? 

“But things change. People change.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. 

“What about you? What kind of doctor do you see yourself being in ten years?”

“The kind of doctor who could make a difference in patient care.” 

He smiled. “More than you do now?”

Lilac matched his own lighthearted amusement. “I’m only an intern! I do barely anything now!”

“Not true. I’ve seen how hard you work for your patients. Even if they don’t always value it, you do make a difference.”

She held his gaze for a few beats longer than normal, looking slightly taken aback by such a keen response from him. 

“But not enough,” she finally said with a sigh, her smile dimming. “I helped one uninsured patient receive care, but I can’t find loopholes for everyone. The entire system needs to change, and I want to be a part of it.”

A surge of pride swelled in his chest at that. “And I have no doubt you’ll find a way.”

By now, all traces of her smile disappeared entirely. Her voice was oddly quiet as she said, “It just seems like the higher I aspire, the more I stand to lose.”

His stomach plunged, reeling at how the words resonated with him. “I...certainly understand that.”

Suddenly, looking her right in the eye felt like a risk, as though he would expose everything plainly for her to read. Without another word, he stood and made his way to the railing. His mind raced with a multitude of thoughts. His heart, similarly, pounded against his rib cage, frenetic. 

“What you saw tonight, that’s not me. I don’t gamble...on anything. I don’t take chances.” The words left him before he could decide why he needed her to hear them. “Medicine is an assembly of facts leading to a conclusion. Once you know the rules and understand the diseases you’re working with, the risk should be minimal.”

Desperation hummed through him, rushing the words forward. 

“Your decisions are informed, and you chose the safest path. But that card game...I’ve never done anything like that before.”

He became too aware of her presence suddenly at his side. All the while, his pulse clamored at his ears, announcing something looming that was still unknown to Ethan. 

“I don’t know. It seemed like a pretty well-informed decision to me.” Her voice was soft, understanding, and even a little impressed. 

“Risking Naveen’s treatment on a game? Having to hope I’d judged Declan’s character well enough to risk losing instead of using a winning hand?” 

His every breath was an entity of its own, ripping from his chest with the building urgency. 

“There were too many variables! I could have lost everything!”

“But you were right. Your risk paid off.”

His eyes remained fixed on the ocean as a newfound bravery swelled inside him, as undeterred and formidable as the rolling waves. 

“It did...and I’m beginning to realize…” 

He turned to lock eyes with her. 

“There are some things that are worth any risk.”

Lilac froze for the briefest of moments and then understanding bloomed like the dawn in her features. Something softened in her eyes as she raised a delicate hand to stroke his cheek. 

“Lilac, I…” 

“I know.”

Ethan's eyes fluttered closed against her caress, swallowing hard. Every one of his senses was commanded by her —her heady perfume, the softness of her skin, the sound of her uneven breath, her beautiful face basked in moonlight. As his eyes fell to her lips, he felt the last remnants of his judgment fade. 

With rougher force than he intended, his arm circled her waist, their bodies pulling together like magnets. And then he was kissing her, long and hard. 

It was as though his body had found its home in her after months of aimlessly searching. The way she pressed herself even closer to him as she kissed him back, every soft curve molding against his hard chest, revealed to him that she felt the same way. A primal urge overtook him at the thought, his hands gripping the sandy sequin of her dress in a wild grip, his tongue prying her lips open with ease. With a dizzying groan, he realized she had given him access, enthusiastically tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss.

“Dr. Ramsey, you’re—”

He had her pinned against the railing now, his lips descending down the graceful curve of her neck. 

“Ethan.” His voice was a low, dark murmur against her throat. It was almost a plea. He needed to hear his name on her lips. 

She did not disappoint. 

“Ethan,” she all but moaned. “I’ve been wanting this.”

He broke away to meet her gaze, his clamoring heart feeling lighter still. 

“So have I.”

To prove it, he brought their mouths together again, this time in a tender kiss. As his lips stroked hers in slow, deliberate movements, he poured every piercing emotion burning within him for the past few months. Every time he had longed to pin her against his office wall became a sweep of his tongue, every time he had yearned to silence her taunting quips with a kiss became a nip of her lower lip. 

 The kiss quickly moved from gentle to ravenous when her fingers began to undo his buttons. Lilac looked at him through dark, hooded eyes before kissing every bit of newly exposed skin. 

“Mmm…”

God above, she was going to kill him with that sultry little sigh. 

Ethan cursed softly when she took his mouth again, her fingers moving to lose themselves in his hair. His hands, meanwhile, had less honorable intentions, spurred by the indecent ministrations of her tongue. With ungraceful movements, Ethan's fingers claimed handfuls of her hips, causing her to hiss against his mouth. They moved desperately up the contours of her curves until they reached the swell of her breasts. 

With a guttural groan, he broke their kiss to lavish the plunging neckline of her dress with attention. Lilac clung to his shoulders, throwing her head back in pleasure as she breathlessly urged him on. Barely containing his want, he obeyed, using his lips and tongue to taunt the tops of her breasts. When his teeth grazed over the pebbled mound straining against the front of her dress, she moaned loudly. 

“What if someone sees us?”

Lilac opened her eyes from her bliss to give him a taunting look. Dark eyes and kiss stung lips made her so enticing that his fingers gripped further into her hips, despite his initial concern. Ethan could've taken her right there, against the railing, no matter who saw or heard. 

“Come with me then.”

The words had just left her lips before she kissed him fiercely, guiding him away from the railing by the lapels of his tux. They blindly bumped into furniture and when they clumsily knocked over the champagne bucket, she laughed against his mouth and tried to pull away. Ethan held her tight, however, not giving a single damn about the damage to property so long as she continued to kiss him like that. 

Lilac did pull back briefly and prodding a finger against his chest, she pushed him down on the chair. “Sit.” 

Ethan obeyed readily.

Another low, raspy curse left him as she straddled him and moved her hips against his. His body had been awakened by her from the first moment their lips touched. Now,  with only the thin barrier of their clothes separating them, she slid along the thick, hard column of her effect on him.

A surprised little gasp escaped her, turning into a maddening, wanton moan. Lilac glanced at the meeting point of their centers, incredulous about what she felt. When she glanced up at him, she gave him an impressed smile.  He felt himself grow impossibly harder.

She moved over him again, the skirt of her dress hiking higher still.

“Lilac…” he groaned.

Her response was another searing kiss. When they pulled apart for breath, he paused to take in the magnificence of her body from his new angle. What a lovely sight she made, hair tousled, skin flushed, and dark eyes fixed adoringly on him. He was about to tell her as much, when she smiled a lazy, captivating smile that made his every nerve ending flare up. 

“What are you doing to me?”

“Hopefully something good.” Her simpering smile was pure sin, made wickeder still by the way she guided his hands along her bare thighs and hips. 

He wanted her so badly it hurt. 

“Lilac, I’ve never done anything like this. Ever. This is—”

Their joined hands paused at the dip of her waist as she gently shushed him. Without uttering a single word, she freed one of her hands and placed it on his chest, right over his thundering heartbeat. Ethan watched her reaction closely, afraid his traitorous pulse revealed more about his feelings for her. 

Instead of teasing him, she guided his hand to her own chest. The wild drumming of her heart was unmistakable, keeping an easy pace with his. 

“You...feel amazing.”

“Wait ‘til you feel the rest of me.”

Ethan laughed. God, how he loved her. 

The laughter died in his throat as easily as it had begun, his heart sinking horribly as the thought caught up with him. As panic began to take root in his stomach, so did the realization of what they were doing. He had crossed a line with her that could never be undone. The longer he remained in her embrace, getting lost in her heady kisses, the more damage he caused her career. 

How could he be so fucking selfish? 

Completely unaware, Lilac shivered slightly from the bitter breeze swirling around them. 

“Let’s get you inside.”

Her green eyes were alight with promise as she took his hand and guided him inside. Imperceptibly, he unclasped their hands as they walked, letting his own fall to the side. Throat tight and stomach roiling with guilt, he forced himself to stop at the door, bracing himself against what he was about to do. 

_______

Author’s Note: Ah, I had to stop there. My brain would explode if I wrote how he breaks MC’s heart next. 

THANK YOU for reading this.

 I will continue to post the “50 Ways to Say ILY” drabbles over the next few days. Thank you to everyone who sent one in. I promise I am working on all of them! 

___________

Tags: @openheart12​​ | @ethandaddyramsey​​ | @aestheticartsx​​ | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies​​ |  @flyawayboo​​ | @paulfwesley​​ | @hatescapsicum​​ | @myusualnerdyself​​ | @thatysn​​ | @choicesyouplayandmore​​ | @chasingrobbie​​ | @trappedinfandoms​​ | @togetherwearerapture​​ | @nooruleman​​ | @axwalker​​ | @parkerattano​​ | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​​ | @kaavyaethanramsey​​ | @edith-eggs1​​ | @choices-lurker​​ | @jens-diamondchoices​​ | @tefigranger​​ | @ethanrcmsey​​ | @coffeebeandragon​​ | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey​​ | @binny1985​​ | @mvalentine​​ | @sanchita012​​ | @drethanramslay​​ | @ramseysno1rookie​​ | @takeharryandgo​​ | @aworldoffandoms​​ | @desmaranj​​  | @oofchoices​​ | @ethxnrxmsey​​​ | @octobereighth​​​ | @kopenheart12​​​ | @lilyvalentine​​​ | @honeyandsunfl0wers​​​ | @virtualrain202 | @enmchoices​​​ | @tyrilstouch​​​ | @rookie-ramsey​​​ | @humanpokemon​​​ | @apphia12​​​ | @kiara-36​​​ | @eramsey28​​​ | @whippedforethanramsey​​​ | @custaroonie​​​ | @helloblueeyedcat​​​ | @dr-ramseys-rookie​​​ | @thegreentwin​​ | @decadentwinnerjudgedream​​ | @jeerapp​​

@dulceghernandez​​​​ |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |  @angela8756

[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate- Prologue

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 2.8K words

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warning: None really, just a little cursing

Author’s note: I had been listening to Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan and that is actually the primary spark which led me to come up with this series. Shout out to @mvalentine and @anotherbeingsworld fo letting me bounce my crazy ideas <3

AHHH so it is finally here!! This is my first time writing Bryce so I hope I can do justice to this beautiful man. This starts with Aisha’s (MC) POV and like I said, there will be a time jump. It would be first person when I’m writing in the past and then it will shift to third person when I’m writing the present. I think i should stop my rambling and let’s go!!

Terms you need to know-

-Bhaiya: Brother in hindi

-Beta: Technically it means ‘son’ but in most Indian families its used like a term of endearment too

- AIIMS, Delhi: Stands for All India Institute of Medical Sciences. This is one of the best medical schools in the country and Only 100 people out of 200,000(or more) get in. So it is very cut throat.

10 years ago- Aisha's PoV 

(Age: 16)

I am done.

Done with all the drama, done with all the lies, done with all the manipulations and done with all the heartache.

And most of all, I was done with him- the infamous Bryce Lahela. 

The boy with the stupid long hair, the stupid signature smirk and the stupid charm. Those amber eyes which reminded you of the sand and sea and those lips on which an everlasting smile played used to be like a breath of fresh air. I always thought that he was so unique, but boy was I wrong. 

All boys are the same.

I really thought that jocks like him would be different huh? Can someone just hand me my clown shoes?

But luckily, I don't have to see his face ever again because for once, instead of making a mockery of my existence, life decided to give me something that I really wanted badly.

A chance to leave all of this in my past. A chance to start over again.

My dad had a better business opportunity back in Mumbai. I am an Indian and we lived in Delhi since the time I was born but we shifted to Mauii when I was in the ninth grade because of how demanding dad's job was getting

Bhaiya chose to stay back in Delhi because his engineering college was there and he enjoyed the hostel life way too much. And he had finally managed to get out of our toxic household so I really could not blame him.

So yeah.. that is how I ended up in Maui in the first place.

It was okay in ninth grade. I kept to myself and blended in with the shadows (because hello social anxiety!). But... Tenth grade changed everything.

It was one of the best and worst year of my life and I often wonder if I could ever get over this.

I am definitely sounding like one of those over-dramatic Indian soap operas my mom watches every night.

"Aisha? Are you ready? The car is here beta."

"Yes, Mama. I am coming!! Just packing up some stuff."

Breaking out of my reverie, I stuffed in my phone and other essentials into my carry bag. As I was zipping up my luggage, I yanked open my closet door to see if I left anything behind my eyes landed on the shoebox I had stuffed in the back of my closet.

I gulped and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. A part of me wanted to take it for it had all the trinkets of the good things in my relationship with Bryce but, another part of me knew that if I took it with me, I would never be able to move on and that would completely defeat the purpose of this fresh start I have been looking forward to.

So with a heavy heart, I looked away and shut the door of the closet, picked up my luggage and left.

As the Uber pulled out of the curb I stared out of the window, to look at the beaches I had come to love and hate.

I liked Maui, I really did but all that it was reduced was a place where I was humiliated and belittled.

And it was all his fault.

PRESENT

(Age: 27)

"Oh my god. I'm gonna late!!" Aisha screeched as she saw the time on her phone. She shoved the duvet off her and jumped out of bed. She tried running to the bathroom in her small closet-sized apartment but it just ended up with her stubbing her toe against the coffee table.

"Ow ow ow." She cursed as she hobbled into the washroom and got on with her daily chores. Her hand-eye coordination was already awful and add that she was sleep deprived just made the entire thing worse. Stumbling, tripping, cursing she managed to brush her teeth and hop into the shower. The burst of cold water managed to wake her up as she furiously washed.

Why did I have to move into a room under a busy staircase?! This is why bhaiya says- Do your research. She angrily thought to herself as she wiped herself rigorously and zipped open her suitcase, searching for her semi-formal clothes.

Grabbing a granola bar and her trusty thermos of coffee, she was on her way to Edenbrook.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As she entered the atrium, she was in complete awe. It looked big and majestic on the outside, with a clever mix of brick walls and the glass facade, making it look welcoming. Sunshine poured through the atrium as the various doctors and nurses worked around her, not giving mind to the clueless intern gawking.

"Hi, I'm Dr Ines Delarosa, a senior resident!! You look lost. Let me guess... the first day of residency?" A short woman in a doctor's coat walked up to her breaking Aisha from her awe, her aura full of happiness, rainbows and unicorns which made Aisha a little vary.

Is it normal to be this happy and energetic?

Aisha nodded hesitantly and the resident smiled a hundred-watt smile. "Great. You are gonna need a photo ID. Follow me, I will get you all set up." Wordlessly Aisha followed Ines, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, nervously playing with the strap.

It is going to be fine... Aisha breathed out as she entered a room with a white background and a camera before it. "Just step over here, in front of the camera and smile."

And waste my energy? No thanks.

She schooled her features to be as professional as she could and the flash of the camera went off. Aisha walked over the tangled wires and peeked at the screen. A serious face stared back at her, the lighting doing good to her brown skin. Her nose piercing caught light and her dark mahogany hair was tied up in a neat ponytail.

"Is it okay? Or do I need to retake the photo?"

"No, it is great! I like it. Thank you."

"Well I will just stick this on your ID.... and you are good to go!! I wish I looked that good in my ID." She said and cheerfully and once her eyes fell on the title a smile made its way on her face,

Dr Aisha Khurrana... It is real and it is true.

"My first day as a real doctor." she whistled lowly shaking her head as if she didn't believe it.

"I was in your shoes last year. Believe me, med school was nothing compared to this. Your three years of residency will be the toughest, most amazing year of your life!! But the first year as an intern will be the craziest of all."

As soon as the smile had graced her features, it slipped away and she nodded seriously. "I think I am ready for it. I have been dreaming and slogging my ass so that I could work in Edenbrook. Ever since I learnt that Ethan Ramsey worked here. His research basically pushed me to apply for med school."

Also, the fact that my parents can like shut up about me being worthless.

"That is great. I will just walk you to the locker room so that you can change into scrubs." Ines offered and Aisha gave her a small smile.

"So... Any advice?"

"Make friends..."

And I am out. She thought to herself. She always struggled with making friends and that is partly the reason why she would keep to herself all the time. Sure she did make a few gem of a friends in med school but if she had to choose between mingling with strangers and drowning, you know what she would choose.

"... with your interns, year senior residents, even your patients! Friends will get you through anything. And, uh, try to not annoy the Attendings! You do not want to get on your boss's bad side."

"Noted."

After changing she was just passing through the waiting room so that she could get to the orientation when she heard gasps from the seating area. A woman had collapsed on her seat and the people were crowding around her.

Her instincts kicked in and she ordered. "Give her space. Everybody step back! I'm a doctor."

She hurried over to the woman just as another doctor rushes in. He kneeled at her side and checked her pulse. "Pulse is weak. She's unresponsive." He looked up and his eyes landed on her.

"You Rookie. Get here."

"Right away doctor. Coming!" Aisha hurried over as the doctor lifted the fainted woman on to the nearby gurney.

"What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?"

"No, she'd just walked in."

The doctor's piercing blue eyes landed on her which made her straighten her back. "If we don't figure out what's wrong with her fast, she's going to die on this table. Rookie, check B.P."

Wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm and she pumped the bulb, peering at the numbers.

"It's plummeting. She's hypotensive. We've gotta get fluids in her."

Aisha's eyes wandered over the woman's form, trying to search for more clues. Her eyes landed on the rapidly forming bruise on her elbow.

"Doctor... Look at this bruise. I think it's a sign that she is a haemophiliac."

The doctor replied in a gruff voice. "You think or you know?"

"I know."

"Good. Also can you see the way her fingertips are turning blue? It is a sign of low oxygen saturation in the blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry."

She nodded assertively and slipped the resonator of the stethoscope over the ribs, straining to hear the diminishing whooshing of the lungs which made Aisha gulp in fear.

"Can't hear anything on the left side and the right side is struggling. She is going to suffocate at this rate." She spoke up , her voice struggling to stay calm but as she glanced at the older doctor, he seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

"Nurse we have got a code blue." His authoritative voice boomed over as the nurses bustled around the gurney.

Taking the bag mask from the nurse, he secured it around the patient's mouth and gently pump air into her lungs.

"What do we do, Doctor? What's happening to her?" She asked as she noticed the reducing breath rate.

He looked up. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

Aisha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realigning her focus, delving deep into her mind, analyzing the clues.

Hemophilia... low blood oxygen... no lung expansion on one side...

Her brown eyes snapped open as it struck her. "It's a haemothorax!"

A twinkle of approval flickered in the ocean eyes, which vanished as soon as it came. "Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity..."

"... Blocking her lungs from expanding! That's why she can't breathe." Aisha completed the sentence.

Fuck.

"But we can't repair the blood vessel over here."

The older doctor's jaw clenched. "Then we will have to do a emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!"

The nurse hustles around handing her a scalpel and a chest tube, her eyes widening in shock.

She gulped, her nervousness spiking as she sees the doctor lift the shirt of the patient, exposing the side of her rib cage.

"We need a local anaesthetic-"

The doctor interrupted her. "We're out of time and she is already unconscious. Do it now, or the woman's life is on you!!"

She gritted her teeth with determination. I am not loosing a patient on my first day.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. It is just like anatomy class only... this isn't a cadaver but a real person.

But that statement, instead of calming her, it just caused the scalpel to shake in her hand.

The doctor reaches and encompasses her hand. "Hey... You can do this."

Aisha nods stabilizing herself and focusing solely on the older doctor's voice, before she looked down.

"There you go... Nice and easy."

Incision at the fifth intercostal space... anterior.. to the mid axillary line...

And when she was confident enough, she made the perfect incision, a trickle of red following the path of the scalpel.

"Now the tube."

She took and pushed it into the incision and with a spurt, blood started draining out of the chest cavity resulting in the patient to take a deep breath.

Holy shit I did that. I freaking did that.

In the daze of endorphins, she heard the doctor order her surgery, the nurses wheeling the gurney and the onlookers applauding.

She turned towards the attending, excitement pouring out of her in waves. "Doctor.. that was absolutely amazing!!"

It's was as if a switch flipped and the grumpier and sarcastic facade took place. "You're right. It is pretty amazing you didn't get her killed."

Aisha's jaw dropped.

"Wait, what?"

The doctor rambled off, pointing out her mistakes. "Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best."

It took all her might to not scoff. 

Excuse me I graduated from AIIMS Delhi, thank you very much.

 Swallowing the dying need to go off she spoke in a professional tone. "Amateur? I'm sorry, doctor but it is my first day."

"Well, that is not an excuse you can use because if that patient would have died, the blood would have been on your hands..." He lifted the badge attached to her breast pocket scrutinizing on the surname.

"... Khurrana."

He tossed the id back to her, turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a steaming Aisha in her place.

"What a dick." She muttered under her breath.

"Yeah and I'm totally in love with him." A nurse appeared magically out of thin air near her, causing her to jump in surprise.

The kind eyed nurse just rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder which had Aisha bristling. "Don't worry about it, Dr Ramsey is like that to everybody."

Aisha's jaw dropped for the second time. "Wait... Dr. Ramsey as in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

Shooting a knowing glance, he spoke up. "I take it, you're a fan?"

"He's only my medical hero and greatest inspiration. I've read all his research!" Aisha rushed off, horror and excitement rushing through her.

Oh my god I managed to piss of my one medical hero.. I'm such a dumbass.

Noticing the horror of her expression he gave a gentle smile. "On the bright side, you'll get plenty more chances to impress him."

She sighed and looked down to see that her scrubs were stained with blood.

First impression is last impression beta, always remember that. Her father's voice resonated in her mind.

"Dammit, I'm here for five minutes and I'm already a mess. I can't show up to orientation like this!"

"Don't sweat it. There are extras in the locker room. Come I will show you the way..."

She walked into the locker room, looking for her assigned locker. There was a crowd of half naked interns and after mumbling a couple of 'excuse me's', and rubbing shoulders (literally) she made it the end of the room.

As she turned she knocked into another woman in nothing but her undergarments.

"Uh...um.. okay then." Aisha stuttered as she felt the back of her neck heating up.

Thanks to my brown skin no one can see me getting flustered.

"What? See something you like?" She asked cheekily in an Indian accent which eased Aisha up a bit.

"Ha, you wish."

"Aren't you cute?" The woman snickered as she reached for her pants.

"That's what people say, so it must be true."

She reached for her full sleeve shirt before looking Aisha's way. "Desi?"

Aisha snorted. "Obviously. And I'm guessing you too."

"Of course. And I'm guessing that you are definitely not wearing those scrubs."

"What? Didn't you hear? Bloody clothes are like the new trend around here."

There was a moment of silence before both of them started laughing.

"It's good to meet someone from home." Aisha spoke as she pulled her scrub shirt off.

"Woah, woah, woah. Don't count on that yet. I need to see if you are gonna get in my way in this competition."

Aisha smirked as she shut her locker. "Can't say I'm surprised. Can't be desi if the sense of competition isn't ingrained in your DNA."

"Oh my god never thought that I would see Jackie's twin." A familiar manly voice wafted over to them.

Wait a second...

"Shut up scalpel jockey, this is our kind of bonding."

"Oh please, don't scare the newbie aw- oh."

Oh.

She was standing right in front of him. Face to face. The playful amber eyes, with flecks of brown hadn't changed. The long shoulder length hair had been cut and styled to be short and messy.

There was no trace of the surfer boy she met in Maui. He was a man through and through but still, the youth in his eyes poured out in waves, reminding her of the sandy beaches.

But right now those amber eyes were wide with shock.

It's not everyday that you meet your ex of ten years in the locker room of your new job.

"Aisha?"

".... Bryce?!"

HEHEHEH AWKWAARRDDD

Like, comment, reblog and let me know what you think 

Bryce X MC: @lilyvalentine @sanchita012 @zeniamiii @lucy-268 @have-aheart @utterlyinevitable @anotherbeingsworld @this-person-is-busy @cryinginthebackseat @mayascherub @jaxsmutsuo @rookie-ramsey @aylamreads @caseyvalentineramsey @choicesalaska​

Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms  @agent-breakdance​ @dailydoseofchoices​ @colossalpainintheass​ @siaramsey​ @raleigheffingcarrera​ @kaavyaethanramsey​ @theeccentricbibliophile​ @ac27dj​ @ramseysno1rookie​ @justanotherrookie​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @checkurwindow​ @chasingrobbie​ @junggoku​ @bellcat2010​ @choicesstan1​ @mvalentine​ @crazynutella​ @hatescapsicum​ @dr-ramseys-rookie​ @lilypills​ @vampireblissblog​ @decadentwinnerjudgedream​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @nooruleman​ @anonymously-cool​ @sanvivrma

[just-char]

5. Can I request Percy's POV for the opening scene in Chapter 2 of Homeward, where Ramsey has dinner with Percy and Molly? Or would doing so spoil the dramatic effect of later on? The scene is so well-written I feel the other POV isn't needed to understand what's going on, but it would be fun to read nonetheless. :)

Good evening. A fantastic request! I am a very slow writer, but here is the scene in full in Percy's POV. You will notice it is nearly twice as long due to the wordy and rambling nature of Percy's existence (and hence, one of the reasons Homeward is from Ramsey's point of view) and also that it is very much unedited. It was fun to explore the conversation Percy has on the phone with her mother (during which I believe you will cringe several times at both of their lack of tact and general ineptness. ) It is sort of not canon as the phone call lasts a little bit longer than it does in the actual story, but I love Liz and Arthur too much to not have fun with them when I can. Story: Homeward Word Count: 4,045

Ramsey, Percy had noticed, was over for dinner more often recently. She did not mind this. Quite the opposite. She often struggled with portion sizes when cooking now that she had to cook for more than one person (somehow, simply doubling the amount she used to make never worked out like it mathematically should have) and there was always enough to feed him. He also made for good company for Molly, who Percy suspected, despite how quiet she could be around others, loved having him over for the noise and excitement he brought to the usually quiet apartment. It was important for her to have good adult role models, and the imperfect Ramsey who was trying to make up for his difficult past was, in her opinion, a much better fit than the rambunctious Giovanni, whose moral code was vague at best and dangerous at worst. Also, admittedly, she simply liked him around, which was probably reason enough. So, no, she most certainly didn’t mind that he came over more often and would stay for dinner. It was something friends did, she was sure. Well, she was almost sure.

Today, he especially had a good reason to come over. Molly’s bedroom had been irking her lately. Percy was perfectly capable of painting walls– in fact, she was excellent at painting walls– but she was not an artist, and it was a strict difference. Although she could quite easily and quite neatly paint a green coat, or even perhaps some sort of dual coloured coat, given the proper masking tape, she could not paint bears. Molly’s old bedroom, she had noticed the only time she’d been in it, had bears on the wall. Teddy bears, specifically. And given that Molly was nearing adolescence, Percy wanted to take full advantage of the age where she would still enjoy such frivolous things and recreate them. Ramsey was also very idle, she found. When he was not working, he was drawing or sleeping from what she could gather (the latter much more so than the former) and it seemed to be putting a ‘dampener’ on his mood. Paying him to paint Molly’s bedroom (with her assistance, of course) seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Not that she would ever hurt a bird, of course. Well, not unless it was a dangerous individual that had to be taken care of. Perhaps she wouldn’t think about it anymore.

The spaghetti was a little salty. She hoped neither of them minded. It sort of reminded her of buttered noodles, which she mostly knew as a childhood treat (emphasis on treat, they were certainly not good for her) and as such she didn’t dislike the taste, but still. “Thanks again for painting my room, Mr Murdoch.” As Percy scrutinized her plate, Molly had taken to thanking Ramsey for his work. She was a very polite young girl. Very admirable. It was incredible how well-raised she was, all things considered, but Percy thought that simply spoke to how wonderful Molly was, and was not reflective of anything her father did for her.

Ramsey waved her gratitude off humbly. “Eh, it wasn’t nothing. S’nice to get out of the old apartment anyway.”

Percy chose to ignore his double negative. It was confusing, but he did it a lot and she’d managed to get used to it. She did not understand why he found it difficult to accept thanks, however. She quickly patted her mouth with her napkin (dinner etiquette was very important) so she could show her shared appreciation. “Whether it was nothing or not, we appreciate your effort.” Of course, she knew it probably was nothing to him. After all, he was an artist of very high caliber. But that didn’t change the fact he had put time and energy into doing it.

Instead of accepting her thanks, once more Ramsey chose to deflect, pointing his fork at her. “You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you couldn’t do it yourself.” Before Percy could debate this, however, Ramsey decided to go for two blows. He leaned in towards Molly, “Percy can’t draw for snacks,” and Molly found this funny enough. Percy watched them with interest, and then they turned and watched her with interest. Ah. Right. She was supposed to respond to that with something equally clever yet jocund, as was expected. “It’s true, I am no artist. However, I am also not a con-artist.” She didn’t quite understand what was so funny about two people mocking each other repeatedly, but Molly seemed to find it humorous and it was all very lighthearted so she decidedly went along with it (though she found her own wit was much better suited for one-line statements than battles of insults.)

Molly gasped and covered her mouth. Presumably, this was jokingly. Percy doubted what she said was all that bad. “She’s got you there, Mr Murdoch. Are you just gonna take that?”

Ramsey seemed pleased with himself. “Oh, was that supposed to be a burn?” He took a moment to think, “Heh, well, I may be a criminal, but at least I’m not a nerd.” Molly made noises with her mouth that Percy couldn’t quite decipher as she frowned. She never quite understood the word as an insult, after all, “There is nothing laughable about being well-educated.”

Ramsey apparently took her defensive statement as his victory. “Oh, I see,” he said casually, “So you can give it, but ya can’t take it, huh?”

“I can take you back to prison, Ramsey,” Percy blurted out. Oh. She had not even thought about it before saying it. Ramsey seemed equally surprised, coughing on the spaghetti in his mouth as Molly laughed. Admittedly, it felt good to be in on the joke. She smiled at him to clarify no ill will and he looked bashfully back down at his plate. She took it that this meant she had won, for once. Excellent.

Suddenly, Ramsey recovered from his defeat and looked up. “You excited to go to Marchpoint for Christmas, Molly?”

Molly beamed. “Sure! Marchpoint is really pretty, and Percy’s parents are really nice.” It was reassuring to know that Molly truly did enjoy visiting them– her parents had… overwhelming and very different reactions to the prospect of her adopting a child, and for a little bit Percy was very worried that they would make Molly uncomfortable, or perhaps regardless Molly simply wouldn’t like them. Alas, it worked out the complete opposite. Percy hesitated to use the word ‘obsessed’, but her parents were most certainly passionate in their approach to Molly in a way she wasn’t expecting. Well, her father she should have expected, but her mother? It really did go to show how the people you love can always surprise you.

Ramsey, meanwhile, seemed content to speculate about her hometown’s nature. “Heh, sounds like one a those little fancy holiday towns.” Admittedly, he was not entirely wrong. He had good sense about those kinds of things, Percy supposed. “Marchpoint,” he repeated, scratching his goatee. Very idly, Percy wondered what it felt like.

“It’s pretty fancy! Percy’s parents live in one of those big country homes with a porch and huge backyard, and all the little town shops look like they’re from the sixties. It’s so much quieter than the city.” She could not grow a beard herself, but she remembered how her father’s felt whenever he shaved it. Textured, bristly. Ramsey’s face fell. “What’d I do? I got something on me?” He looked down at his shirt to check. Hm. Apparently, she had been staring. And also not listening, as she couldn’t seem to remember what it was they had been talking about. She decidedly corrected both of those ‘faux pas’s.

“My apologies. I was…” She did not want him to feel self-conscious, “... lost in thought. What were we speaking about?”

Ramsey smiled at her cheekily. “Talkin’ about your fancy pants hometown, Sparky.”

“Ah, yes.” How could she have forgotten? “Marchpoint certainly has its charms. However, I prefer to be in the city where I am needed.” She frowned, thinking about just how useless she’d be somewhere so quiet. “Indeed, such a sleepy town has no need for my unforgiving sense of justice.”

Molly lifted some spaghetti in her fork. “It’s nice for the holidays though!”

“Justice doesn’t take holidays,” Percy reminded her seriously.

“Alright, Judge Judy, let’s not bring work to the table,” Ramsey scolded her. Percy wasn’t quite sure who Judge Judy was, but she had to admit he was right. She went back to eating her spaghetti.

Molly looked at him. “What’re you doing for the holidays, Mr Murdoch?”

Ramsey, from what Percy could tell, was not expecting to be asked this question. Percy realized she wasn’t sure what he was doing herself. “Me? Uh, nothin’, kid.” Had she never asked him? Ah. Shoot. She hadn’t. She’d try to remember to do that next year. “My family’s too far away and small to bother visiting every year. I like to keep it to myself.” Percy couldn’t pretend she wouldn’t do the same if Marchpoint was further away, but it surprised her that Ramsey, given his sensitive nature, would feel similarly.

“How practical!”

Molly did not seem as pleased with this as she was. “That’s sad, Mr Murdoch. Don’t you want to be around people during the holidays?”

Hm. Molly offered an interesting point. Ramsey was prone to bouts of loneliness. She watched him carefully as he attempted to shrug off the question. “Nah, I’m good. Not too into heavily commercialised stuff. Just another day off to me.” Percy was always the best with conversations but she was certainly familiar with interrogations and she liked to think she knew a lie when she saw one. Such a lackadaisy approach to such an important time seemed so unlike him.

“While I usually like to respect the wishes of others, I would not like to think of you spending this time alone, Ramsey. The holidays are a chance to reconnect and spend time with the people you love and care about. They are not, as you say, just ‘another day off.’”

Ramsey frowned at her, but Molly spoke first. “You should come with us to Marchpoint! I’m sure no one would mind.” Hm. Huh. Percy blinked. And then she blinked again, because for some reason the first blink hadn’t cleared her mind. She could feel her eyebrows furrowing as her brain went over the statement. Ramsey. At her family home. Staying with them. For the holidays. In Marchpoint. With her parents. She couldn’t even picture it. Molly’s quiet voice broke her out of her stupor. “Uhm, would that be okay, Percy?”

Percy gave blinking one last try to see if it would work. She’d have to give an answer– that was how questions worked. One person asks a question and the other answers, unless the question is rhetorical or sarcastic, something that was clarified by tone indicators. Molly’s question was neither, so she had to answer it. Would it be okay? Well, she’d have to ask her mother. Yes. That was the answer. She’d have to ask. “I’d have to call Mother,” she said, and then quickly to reassure them both, “But I don’t see why not.” Smile. Yes. That was a good idea– smiling made people more comfortable. She was nailing this.

Ramsey seemed upset. She was not nailing this. “Look, I don’t wanna be burdenin’ a buncha strangers all out of pity–” Well, that was simply ridiculous. “Ramsey,” she interrupted him, “would you like to come?” She waited expectantly.

He stared back at her. “I guess. I mean, if the food’s free.” A jest, she assumed, based on the wink. “But I don’t wanna come if I’m just gonna be in the way is all.” Hm. Well, she wouldn’t force him if he believed he would be out of place.

“I understand, Mr Murdoch,” Molly reassured him quietly, “I just thought it’d be nice to have another person I’m really comfortable around going to meet so many new people… But if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” She smiled at him. Hm. Percy hadn’t even thought about that. Molly was quite shy, and while her family wasn’t large by any means, they were quite loud, even for Percy sometimes.

Ramsey put both of his hands up as though he was showing he had no weapons. “Alright, alright! I’ll come if I’m able, just stop lookin’ at me with those big ole puppy dog eyes. Geez, I can’t stand it.” Oh, that was good. Ack, but it was so soon– she’d call her mother now, just in case. Her mother wasn’t fond of late changes to plans. Percy pulled her phone out of her pocket. If only they’d come up with this last week.

“Excuse me,” she said as she stood up, not wishing to neglect her table manners. The phone stopped ringing and her mother’s voice replaced the sound.

“Hello?”

“Hello, mother.” Percy looked over to the door to the hall. Perhaps this was a conversation best had in private.

“Hello, Percival.” Her mother paused. “Lovely evening.”

As Percy made her way to the hall she glanced out the window. The sky was clear. “Why, yes, it is a lovely evening.” There was a small pause as Percy closed the door behind her and walked to her bedroom. She didn’t particularly like phone calls. Well, she didn’t hate them, but she most certainly found them more difficult than a simple face-to-face conversation or a quick text.

“Why are you calling during dinner?” her mother asked gruffy.

Oh, had she been waiting for her to speak? See, if they had been face-to-face, that would have been more obvious. “Ah, yes. About Molly and I staying over–”

“What, you’re not coming anymore?”

Percy glanced at the phone in surprise. “What?”

“Is that Percy? Is she not coming?” she heard her father say in the background. Oh, dear.

“Arthur, I’m on the phone,” her mother snapped at him.

Her father did not seem to notice. “If it’s Percy, tell her I said hello, and that I’d be very disappointed if she and Molly weren’t coming up!” “Yeah, yeah.” There was a sigh. “He says hello. And that you better be coming up. ”

Percy nodded as though they could see her. “We’re still coming.” “They’re still coming, Arthur,” It sounded as though her mother had covered the mic, and then like she had taken her hand off of it again. “Okay, so then, what are you calling for?”

Percy idly placed her hand on the cool frame of her bed. “It’s just, well, I have this friend–” “You do?” She sounded surprised. Had Percy never mentioned Ramsey to her before?

“Yes.” No, she hadn’t, she realised. Odd.

“Alright, well, what about this friend?”

“He–”

“He doesn’t need money, does he?”

“What? Uhm, no, mother. He doesn’t need…” Percy paused, “Well, I don’t believe he needs money. I suppose he could.” It was certainly possible. Ramsey had obviously gotten in with bad crowds before and old habits did not die easy. It was entirely in the realm of plausibility that he had gone out and gotten into money trouble– or, alternatively, an old mistake had come back to haunt him despite his current good nature.

“Well, did he ask you for money?”

“Hm?” She’d almost forgotten she was on the phone. “Oh, no. No, he didn’t.”

“Good. None of your business then.” Ah, her mother was correct. It was rude of her to speculate like that.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“... Percival.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you calling me.”

“Oh, right.” She almost forgot what she’d called about. Her mother had that effect on people. “Yes. Well, this friend–” “Oh! Ask her if it’s Ramsey.” Ah. Her father again.

Her mother sounded mostly confused, and a little irritated. “Who?”

“Ramsey! Her friend, is it Ramsey?” Percy found herself rubbing the frame. Smooth, glossy wood. It felt nice.

“For god’s sake– Percival, your father wants to know if it’s... Ramsey.”

“Ah, tell him yes, it is.” “It is.” The mic muffled again. “Oh! Is he alright?” “Arthur, getting this conversation to end is like trying to get blood out of a rock and you’re making it harder–” “Alright, alright! Don’t raise your voice, Liz.” Her mother audibly groaned. “Did you at least tell her I said hello?” “I already told her! Just be quiet and eat your roast beef, you big lug.” A pause. “Are you still there Percival?” “Yes.”

“Alright. Tell you what, because my dinner is getting cold and this phone call is driving me to the edge. You have three sentences to tell me what’s wrong or I’m hanging up. Go.”

“Oh, er. Well–” “That was one. You have two now.”

Shoot. Percy took a moment to think about the clearest and most direct two sentences possible. “My friend Ramsey has nowhere to go for the holidays,” she said slowly, “Could he stay with us?”

“Oh, is that it?” Percy wasn’t the best judge of tone but her mother almost sounded disappointed. There was another pause, slightly longer than any of the ones before, as though she was taking this information in. “Hm,” she said finally, “He from the streets?” Percy thought of Ramsey’s little apartment. “No.” “He dangerous? Violent? Crazy?” “No.” Ramsey wasn’t any of those things even when he was a criminal. She’d begin to make her way back to the kitchen, given that the conversation was nearing it’s close.

“Drat. Well, whatever. Sure, sure. He can come.”

Percy opened the door to the hall and closed it behind her. “Thank you,” she said quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, well. I’m not a fiend, Percival. Besides, house won’t be full anyway. You know your uncle isn’t coming up this year, don’t you?” She walked into the kitchen, where Ramsey and Molly still sat at the table.

“Yes. I know.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Son finally decides to come home and then it’s all about staying local after coming up the twenty-five years– s’not like we don’t have room for his brat either. That uncle of yours is a strange man.”

“Indeed.”

“Anyway. Get lost so I can eat.” There was a slight pause. “Love ya.” Percy smiled pleasantly. “Goodbye.”

The phone clicked. Her mother had hung up. She glanced up to her company (she hadn’t realized it, but apparently she had been staring at the floor the whole time) and they stared back at her eagerly.

Molly leaned forward. “What’d she say?” Their plates were empty– they must’ve finished eating.

Percy hummed, trying to replay the conversation. “Well, first she said ‘Hello.’ Then, ‘It’s a lovely evening.’ Then, ‘Why are you calling during dinner?’ Then–”

“I think she meant, what’s the verdict, chief?” Ramsey said quickly. He looked very pink. “Er, am I coming or going?”

Ah, there he went again with his nonsensical word choice. Percy rubbed her chin. “Both options you’ve given me suggest you are allowed. Which do I pick if you’re not?”

Molly groaned. “Percy...”

“My apologies.” Perhaps she was poking too much fun. “You may come, Ramsey.” He seemed appropriately relieved.

“Yes!” Molly exclaimed, and then, in a fit of excitement that was completely unexpected, jumped up to embrace her. Percy could not hide her surprise as her small arms squeezed her. Still, she smiled, wrapping one arm around her ward and using the other to give her a small pat on the head. “Thanks Percy.” The sound rippled through her shirt. It felt very nice.

“Of course.” Hm. What time was it? Molly always did her homework at eight. Percy glanced at the clock on the wall. “Do you have homework to do?”

“Ack!” Molly suddenly let go and raced to her room. Percy watched her go. She was a very kind child. It was lovely how much she cared for Ramsey. It only just occurred to her that perhaps Molly was not entirely selfish in her want for him to be there. Percy just felt privileged to know her, sometimes. It felt silly, given Molly’s age, but it was true.

Speaking of Ramsey, he stood up from the table and Percy looked over to him. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Perc’,” he said softly, “You really didn’t have to.”

Percy smiled at him. He was very sweet for a reformed criminal. She could appreciate that this was probably very difficult for him. Ah, she should reassure him of his use. “I think your presence will be good for her. It can be quite overwhelming meeting new people, especially for children.”

He simply shrugged. “Eh, maybe.” He glanced towards the door to the hall and back at her. “I guess I’d better get going.”

It was always a shame to see him go, but he had his own business to get to. Expecting him to stay forever would be selfish and immature, and Percy was neither of these things when she could fight it. “Of course. Thank you for joining us, Ramsey. It’s always a pleasure.” She started collecting the plates from dinner. She’d wash them now. She didn’t like leaving dishes in the sink.

Ramsey did not leave. Instead, he took the plates from her hands and grinned at her. “Heh, yeah, well, that’s me. I’m pretty great company,” he said as he brought them to the sink. He smirked then, putting a finger to his cheek. “And I’m pretty too.”

While he did that, she made her way to the drawer to get her rubber gloves. Her aunt always said washing dishes without them made your hands dry, though, if Percy were being honest, she never really thought about why she wore them. Habit.

“Very,” she said to entertain him. “Thank you very much for your assistance.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” Percy blinked and looked over at him. He wiggled his eyebrows (provocatively?) Hm.

She looked away, clearing her throat and pulling on her gloves. “How is the apartment treating you, Ramsey?” She turned the tap to run the warm water. As Ramsey spoke, she grabbed the washing up liquid.

He was leaning against the counter. “Fine. Kinda small.” He shrugged at her. “I like the TV. Free cable.”

Percy smiled, procuring a sponge from a dish beside the sink. “I’m glad it’s to your liking. Perhaps if you keep working hard, you will be able to move somewhere bigger.” She started cleaning the dishes. Pasta luckily did not stain, and it did not take long to clean three plates. When she got to the last one, she glanced over at him again. He was… still not leaving. How did she approach that? On one hand, she didn’t want him to feel like he had to leave, because he did not. On the other, she couldn’t simply say nothing, either. After all, he’d said he was leaving. Perhaps he wanted to talk to her about something? She rinsed the plate off and stuck it in the drying rack with the others. Ramsey glanced at her and she cleared her throat. “Well,” she started, “There is no point prolonging the inevitable.”

He pushed off the counter. “Yeah. Thanks again for dinner, and, uh,” he coughed, “Bringing me along for the holidays.” Percy smiled at him.

“Goodbye, Ramsey. Until tomorrow.” She turned back to the sink and began taking off her gloves, but he didn’t leave. Should she say something? Maybe he truly wasn’t alright. “Are you not leaving?” Ah, now that she said it, perhaps that was a little blunt.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was just, uh..." he looked at her desperately but she did not know what to say. "Right, uh, seeya.” He gave her a little wave and she returned it, but as he left Percy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for her lacking approach. She should’ve asked if he was okay, maybe even if he wanted to stay a little longer, talk about something. She knew he didn’t particularly like being alone– perhaps going home was hard for him? Ah. Friendship was difficult and unfamiliar territory. She knew he wasn’t doing as well as he could’ve been, but she didn’t want to freak him out by pushing him too hard.

Well. One thing at a time.

[howling-harpy]

Bad influence

Word count: 1362 Summary: Lewis has brought two friends for dinner, and Stanhope doesn’t approve of the company his only son keeps these days.

A/N: @winnix85 who wanted Stanhope Nixon’s PoV on Nix’s friends. Thank you for the prompt, this was an interesting one to write!

*

Stanhope Nixon didn’t believe in loving children. Not in general and not his own, as being productive had never in his opinion demanded any sort of emotional investment.

Doris did love their children, but Stanhope didn’t think it had had any affect on either one. Blanche was chipper and just fine, clever in social situation and also knew when to make herself scarce, and Lewis… Well, Lewis was smart. He was too talkative, lazy, sloppy and weak-willed, but not even Stanhope’s own father had been able to honestly call him stupid. So Lewis was useful, maybe even worthy of being called a Nixon, but he had a tendency to use his intellect to come up with childish pranks, which was why Stanhope found himself entertaining his son’s… friends. Stanhope didn’t care for patriotism and didn’t buy the theatrics that went with the army, but war was bad for business and at least the army got things done. He had also hoped that military service would help Lewis to grow a spine, but now that he was inspecting the results of his investment, he wasn’t sure. Lewis had called it a social dinner with a touch of business when he had brought up the idea of bringing his two “war buddies” for dinner, and Stanhope had bought it. Winters at least seemed to be there for legitimate business, but even though Stanhope appreciated a man who had climbed the ladder so fast, the man himself was as dry as paper. The main dining room in the Nixon estate was a grand thing with Turkish rugs on the floor, oak furniture, and silk cushions. The four of them sat around a too large table in a way that Stanhope liked, and ahead of them was a painful endeavour of a three-course meal together. The problem was that they hadn’t received even the first dish yet, only their drinks, and Stanhope already knew he didn’t care for either of his guests, and right next to him sat Lewis with a whiskey glass in hand and a smirk on his face that told Stanhope that things were going exactly as he had planned. But Stanhope would have rather died than admitted that Lewis had got one over him, so he chose the route of powering through it. “And what do you do?” he asked the blond, curly-haired officer Welsh who wore a tense smile but matched Lewis in the drinking pace. “I’m a husband and a father,” Welsh answered proudly, the typical Irishman, “but I work in the public school system of Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania.” “Ah. A secure position, I take it,” Stanhope replied. No ambition there either he noted and took a drink. “Harry’s going to make all those kids fall in line,” Lewis said in his bragging tone, “if he gives up his own habit of getting in fights first, that is.” He threw a boyish glance at his friend who grinned back, and Stanhope simply huffed and didn’t grace the matter with a response. “Not that he wasn’t a great officer, right Harry?” Lewis continued, unprompted. “Remember that assault over that field in France? Everyone else took off, but Easy stood and fought.” The grin on the Irishman’s face turned timid and tightened a bit, but Lewis either didn’t notice or he didn’t care. “Right, Harry?” he pressed. “Right,” his friend dutifully agreed, tilted his glass back and drank his whiskey to the bottom. “And where were you at this point?” Stanhope asked Lewis. It was always satisfying to watch that childish smirk fade when Lewis fell back in line. Better yet, he didn’t seem to want to answer, and Stanhope got to train that weak spine of his. “Well?” he demanded. When he heard that word Lewis bowed his head in the same way he had done since he was a boy. “I was with the battalion command behind the line, updating the situation for the company commanders,” he said like the answer was a tooth that had to be pulled. “Of course you were,” Stanhope agreed neutrally, “you shouldn’t talk so grandly about what others have done when you had no part in it. I bet you didn’t even fire your weapon.” Lewis pushed his jaw forward and threw a pitifully angry look at Stanhope from under his brows. It was a familiar look, one that hadn’t changed since Lewis had learned to speak and talk back at his parents. “It was an important job, dad,” Lewis muttered with his lips pursed like he wanted to keep them from wobbling. “Sure, Lewis,” Stanhope said coldly, ending the embarrassing bragging his son was so prone to in company. “Of course it was. You were irreplaceable, Lewis,” said Winters, speaking up for the first time with the voice as confident and stern as always. It was like the man didn’t know what self-doubt was, and Lewis turned towards it like a moth to a flame. Stanhope huffed impatiently. “If you say so.” “I do,” came the reply without hesitation. Stanhope hadn’t decided yet what he thought of Winters. If the man had just been one of his workers he would have appreciated and valued him, but that wasn’t the end of it. Winters wasn’t just a good worker, he was Lewis’ friend, one he bragged about so much that Blanche and Doris had known the man by first name before he even set a foot back on American soil, so good that Lewis had dragged him back with him from the army. Lewis hadn’t ever had anyone like that, Stanhope was sure of it, and it was that what kept the jury out on him. Winters was an efficient, hard-working and confident man, and those were all qualities that Stanhope wished Lewis would have picked up in the army, but instead he had sought out another man who had them and brought him home instead. Stanhope poured himself another glass of whiskey, then passed the bottle to Lewis, who accepted. Winters watched the glass be filled, and Lewis avoided his gaze as he did so. Stanhope had a disdain for Richard Winters, he acknowledged that much. The man was an asset, but there was something about him he didn’t like. He held his chin too high and met his gaze too easily, but also Lewis liked him too much. Stanhope couldn’t form his own opinion of the man, because Lewis had been the one to discover him, to know him and make the introductions, which meant that in their game Winters was one of Lewis’ pieces, and never Stanhope’s. Stanhope also didn’t hold any illusions that he actually held any sort of command over Winters, no. The man had loyalty, but it all resided with Lewis, not the Nixons in general. To Winters, there was just Lewis, and Stanhope could tell that the man would drop every commitment he had made here the moment he wanted to and leave without looking back. That might have been good, actually, but from the way Winters turned to Lewis and smiled at him without any of the previous assertiveness or force Stanhope could see that he would take Lewis with him. The thought struck him suddenly and he nearly squeezed the crystal glass into shards in his hand. He had been approaching that thought for weeks now, but only now it fully solidified. Winters gave Lewis a smile and eyed his glass. “Do you really need all that, Lewis?” he asked softly, addressing Lewis like no one else present mattered. The remains of the childish frown on Lewis’ face dissolved and his squared shoulders relaxed. He seemed to think it over, then gave a dismissive bark of a laugh and put his glass back on the table. Winters rewarded him with an approving smile, and Welsh reached over to steal the glass for himself with a grin on his face, and Lewis allowed him. For a moment the three young men had forgotten their host completely, and Stanhope took a disgusted look on the adoring expression on Lewis’ face when he looked back at Winters. Just before the entrée salad, Stanhope decided that he loathed Richard Winters.