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beansandsprouts · 3 months

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Sunshine (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Bucky interacts with you here and there and finds himself feeling more connected to you. Driving him to want to see your soulmate mark even more.

Warnings: none

Sorry it took so long! College and work got me dying lmao. Updates will continue to be kinda spaced out. Fingers crossed I can get another one out over the weekend.

Also I am absolutely delighted by how much interest there's been in this! Thank you all sm for reading. Down below with the tags there's a link to a little survey, even if you're already on the tag list please fill it out. It's how I'll be keeping track of the tag list. If you don't fill it out you won't be tagged.

He hadn't been able to sleep that night.

You were right across the hall. Two doors separated you from him. And it drove him crazy knowing that you, his possible soulmate, were so close yet just out of reach.

He had dozed in and out of consciousness through the night, but found himself wide awake when he heard shuffling coming from your room. Super soldier hearing meant he heard you get out of bed and pad to your closet. What were you doing?

He heard your door shut quietly, and you make your way down the hall, and, after a few moments, the ding of the elevator door.

His mind raced, wondering what you could be doing. The next thing he knew he was tugging on a hoodie over his tank top and sweats over his boxers. He padded down the hall to the elevator, the little number above lit up saying the elevator was stopped at the floor right underneath him. The training room.

That made sense. From the way you'd spoken about your time in the military yesterday, you were highly trained and a huge asset, you likely had gotten up this early to train for years. He stood there for a moment, debating on going down as well.

The thought that maybe he'd get to see your soulmate mark was enough to have him going back to his room to get his shoes, water bottle, and towel. He wanted to make sure he looked like he was actually down there to train.

Hey, maybe he'd even get to spar with you, get to see what you were capable of.

The elevator moved only one floor, but it felt like it was taking forever. The doors opened to the small lobby and he pushed open the doors to the training room. You were doing some stretches, warming yourself up, and you looked up when he entered.

"Mornin!"

He mumbled the greeting back, now suddenly extremely nervous and starting to wonder why exactly he thought this would be a good idea.

"Didn't think I'd catch anyone this early." You seemed unbothered, warm smile despite the fact that it was so early you could still see the stars in the dark sky if you looked out the window.

He grunted in response, not being able to find the words to respond. He stood there for a moment, watching you, before walking off to start his own warmup. Which consisted of lifting more weight than you could even dream of getting even an inch over your chest. But it was light work for him.

You continued stretching but subtly watched him. You were a little disappointed he was wearing a hoodie, it did kind of obscure everything. Though you could imagine how good his muscles looked lifting that weight. Your face warmed a bit at the thought and you tried to force yourself to focus on the light burn in your calves as you stretched.

After a bit, you moved to wrap your hands and feet, wanting to practice on one of the dozen punching bags Tony had in there. He'd offhandedly mentioned he had to design a lot of the equipment himself so they could withstand the beating of the two super soldiers living in this place.

You focused on the swaying bag in front of you, vaguely aware of Bucky doing things behind you, but not paying him too much mind. Your mind was on getting out that pent up energy. Working with the Avengers was going to be very different from your previous work, and you knew there'd be a lot less for you to do on the daily. You had a feeling you'd probably be spending a lot of time in here.

You barely registered Bucky saying your name from behind you. When it did you paused your beating on the punching bag and turned to him.

"Whats up?"

"Spar?"

"Huh?"

Bucky gestured to the mat meant for sparring a little ways away. It was a little padding so whoever got dropped on their ass only hurt their pride.

"Oh! Yeah, sure." You grinned, you had to admit the idea was exciting. You were curious to see how you'd fare against one of these two.

The two of you settled into stances on the mat and you gave him a teasing grin, "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

You saw the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement as he raised a brow.

"Oh?"

"I don't have to be as worried about breaking you."

His eyes lit with curiosity, just what exactly were you capable of.

He watched you closely as you circled each other before lunging, swinging his non-metal arm at you. You blocked the hit easily and returned it with a swing of your own, which landed. His head snapped to the side as your fist connected with his jaw.

He took a step back, rubbing where you'd hit him. He hadn't expected you to hit that hard. Hell, Steve was one of the few people who's hits actually made his body ache. You packed some heat he was not expecting.

He squared up again and the two of you traded some blows back and forth before he realized you were barely flinching at the hits he landed. So he decided to turn it up a notch, striking harder than he had before. You reciprocated that.

As the two of you sparred, his eyes narrowed, and Bucky's focus turned to seeing how far he could push you. His blows struck hard, one particular hit to your abdomen forced the air from your lungs, and you stepped back gasping.

He pushed forward, though, and despite the lack of air, you fended him off well. To anyone watching, it would seem like a friendly sparring match had turned malicious. However, both yours and Bucky's eyes were lit with delight at the fact that you'd found an equal opponent.

You finally decided to end the session with a swift attack to knock him to the ground and taking the opportunity to pin him, his arm twisted behind his back.

"I surrender." He chuckled. You released him quickly and offered a hand to help him up, which he took.

"Youre...tougher than I expected."

You tilted your head, "Did Tony not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" He asked.

"I'm also a weird military experiment. Except they aimed more for stealth than brute strength with me, still gave me that enhanced strength though." You explained as you used your towel to dab the sweat from your neck.

"You haven't been particularly stealthy."

You laughed, "Haven't been trying. Tell you what, turn off the light and see if you can find me in the dark."

Bucky's eyes scanned you curiously before walking over and flicking off the lights. When he turned back, he tried to peer through the darkness to find you. He even tried to listen for your breathing and heartbeat, but the room was dead silent.

It was unnerving as he stepped further into the room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He slowly turned in a circle, hoping to spot you.

He thought he'd spotted you in a corner of the room until he felt a kick to the back of his knees, knocking him down. Suddenly, there was a hand gently resting around his throat and two fingertips pressed against his head in a mock figure of a gun.

"Surprise." You giggled and released him and went over to turn on the lights as Bucky stood up in a daze.

"How?" He demanded.

"My special serum gave me the ability to slow my heart and breath rate to the point where it's imperceptible, even to you. And I can move lightly so you can't even hear me walk. I can see in the dark, and all other senses are enhanced. Plus, the whole strength and pain tolerance thing. Literally, you just stealthy."

Bucky stared at you as you explained. He slowly realized you weren't really an equal. In fact, you were probably "better" than him in a sense. You had the ability to be completely imperceptible, even to him. You'd just proven you could have killed him easily, and he wouldn't have even seen it coming. It half scared him, and half had his heart racing with attraction.

"You ok?" You asked. He'd been staring at you silently for a good few seconds.

"I've just never met someone who could take me down like that."

"We're good though right?" Your expression had changed to one of nervousness.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Some men have a tendency to feel threatened or emasculated."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"Don't gotta worry about that here."

"Good." You smiled softly at him before it turned into a mischievous grin, "Wanna see who can squat the most weight?"

His mouth quirked up in a half smile as he followed you. The next two hours consisted of you challenging him to see who could handle more. Endurance wise, you did better. However, in terms of raw strength, he did better than you.

Bucky found himself feeling amused, you were so different from him and Steve. They had a tendency to be a bit more reserved. Quieter. But you were bubbly and all over the place, all smiles and energy. It was strange knowing that you'd come from the military.

After a while, the two of you headed upstairs to eat breakfast. By then, most of the others were already awake and were surprised to see Bucky willingly hanging out with you.

It was amusing in a sense. You were like a living ray of sunshine, and Bucky was like a living storm cloud. Polar opposites. However right about now Bucky didn't seem to be as "rainy" as he usually was. The look on his face was more relaxed, and he nodded attentively as you spoke. He was genuinely interested in whatever you were saying.

The second you excused yourself for a shower, the teasing began.

"Seems Bucky has taken an interest in our new teammate." Natasha said slyly.

Bucky shot her a glare and busied himself with a cup of coffee.

"Can you blame him? She's a cute little thing." Sam chuckled.

"I heard she's a great warrior. That makes her even more attractive." Thor said from his seat.

Bucky gritted his teeth and sat down on the couch by Steve with his cup of coffee. He didn't want to tell them exactly why he was so interested. He knew if he did they'd want to get involved and it would just ruin everything.

So for now, he'd deal with the teasing and hope it wouldn't be long until he found out if it was his name marked on your arm.

He stared down into his mug, ignoring the joking going on around him. He barely knew you, and yet he was practically praying that you were his soulmate. That the name he had on his arm was written in your writing. That the name on your arm was his written in his messy chicken scratch.

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

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#bucky barnes x reader #dean winchester #bucky x reader #bucky barnes

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islandofsages · 4 months

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Hey ! Can I ask for the Diasomnia boys reacting to a male!Ignihyde!reader who join the gargoyle club (idk if it's name) ?

Like, the reader is really just interest in the gargoyles, and isn't scare of Malleus (or anyone, really. Man is too tired for being scare.)

Ignore it if you don't want to write it.

Have a good day/night ! And happy new year too.

characters: diasomnia boys x male ignihyde reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format; mentions of malleus in literally everything, lilia being a dad

warnings: none

author's notes: reader is so idgaf energy i love it. also i just remembered the small font feature exists LMAO do tell me if it's too small, i'll change it back to the original size!! if not, i'll change my previous posts to the smaller font. also you have a good day/night too anon ! and happy new year :D

Malleus Draconia

Oh? You want to join the Gargoyle Studies Club? You’re being serious? Oh!

Words cannot describe how happy he is about a fellow gargoyle appreciator though his expression doesn’t really show that

And to think you see him as just another dude… such honor was bestowed upon him…!

He’ll excitedly bring you to every gargoyle he’s found on campus and infodump about them - and you’d write them down somewhere if you’re in the mood

Sometimes you’d find new gargoyles and bring him to them and you start to do likewise

Even outside of club activities you two geek out about gargoyles at times which has earned you two the title of nerds

“Have I told you about the time I’ve met talking gargoyles? I never thought I would see such a day…”

Gargoyles aside, he has times where he confides his personal daily life in you and in turn, he’ll ask you what’s it like being in Ignihyde, etc

After being around each other so much, it feels weird when you guys aren’t together - some people would ask where Malleus is whenever you’re on your own, and vice versa

People found it weird how close an Ignihyde student is to someone from a different dorm too and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or not

But in a sense, Malleus really is your other nerdy half.

Sebek Zigvolt

You?????? Join the club where Malleus is president and is the only member of?????????

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE WORTHY OF JOINING SUCH A CLUB?”

Well, for one, the fact that you’re unfazed by his constant yelling and therefore probably too tired to be fazed by anything, consequently making you the perfect companion to Malleus because you wouldn’t react inappropriately to Malleus’ conduct

And that you actually are interested in gargoyles. That too. You tell all this to him

He clutches his head with one hand, debating your logic. You don’t know how and why but he accepts your argument

That doesn’t stop him from monitoring you two’s activities from afar but, again, you couldn’t care less. A sixteen year old’s fanatics is just part of the growing process

Outside of club activities, he interrogates you on what you’ve discussed with Malleus and you just tell him the truth: gargoyles

At some point, he gets so engrossed in your infodump about gargoyles his eyes shine with a new light

Of course, he mentions something about Malleus obviously liking something so interesting and befitting of his status - but he also thanks you for enlightening him on the topic and that he’ll go to you for more information if need be

You’ve converted him. You sometimes see him clutching a book about gargoyles around the school. It’s filled with notes sticking out of the pages. And a portion of that sometimes he’ll run to you to confirm about a fact or two

Maybe it’s safe to say you two are kind of friends now.

Silver

He doesn’t think too much of it other than being glad that Malleus finally has a fellow gargoyle fan he can geek out with

He’d see you and Malleus chatting it up around campus and he can’t stop the tender smile on his face from making an appearance

Sometimes he himself will try to strike up a conversation with you and gargoyle geek aside, he finds that you’re just a pleasant person to talk to and be around

He admits he’s not too close with any of the folks from Ignihyde aside for the Shroud brothers but you brush him off by saying that nobody is really

He also admires how you don’t really let anything get to you. Again, you shrug it off by half-joking that you’re too tired to be scared by anything at this point

He somewhat empathizes with you on that point, grieving over his narcoleptic tendencies with a heavy sigh

You try your best to cheer him up or if you have experience with such things, you give him advice on how to manage it

You then jest that he can tag along with you and Malleus’ club activities whenever he’s free if he wants. The more, the merrier, right?

He ponders it for a minute and nods. You didn’t think he’d actually accept the offer

“I don’t see a reason to refuse. Sebek and I have accompanied Malleus on his trips before. I’m sure this time around will be more fun with you here.”

And so you all do. You all have a royal time together - and the joy on Silver’s face is especially princely.

Lilia Vanrouge

He sheds (crocodile) tears at the thought of Malleus finally having an additional member in his one-man club more friends

Since you’re chill about it, he is too! As long as you get along with Malleus, everything will be fine and dandy

If anything, he’s a bit impressed by how it takes more than the average amount to gain a reaction out of you

…and a bit concerned. Are you sure you’re getting enough nutrients? His paternal instincts kick in when you tell him you’re too tired to have a reaction to anything

He knows that Ignihyde students are mostly shut-ins but he still advises you and makes sure you get a balanced diet

It’s like he’s adopted yet another son

“Oh, (Y/N), you really ought to take care of yourself more.”

You grow a bit annoyed at him sometimes but you know his intentions are good so you don’t protest

You do feel very loved though. You didn’t expect this much from just joining a club for a topic you’re genuinely interested in

But you have to admit it is kind of hard to come by people who aren’t intimidated by the Malleus Draconia, even if you don’t see it as anything special

What’s special, though, is the affection Lilia holds for you.

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vampykween · 6 months

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Second Chances (part 1)

i wanted to write about singledad!ghost x teacher!reader (which is so self indulgent as im a teacher hehe) and thus this was born summary: little poppy is simon riley's entire world and you've just had yours turned completely upside down. despite everything, it seems like everything falls into place when you're with each other. this is going to be a little series - i already have a few drabbles written and have l more ideas up my sleeve, but feel free to let me know all of yall's ideas too!! dedicated to @suimon since you love my dad!ghost so much hehe mwah

Simon is just short of pulling his hair out. He’s spent all morning wrestling with a five-year old who, last night was bouncing off the walls excited about her first day of school, but now is inconsolable and quite frankly working his last nerve.

“Poppy, love, please just get dressed. We don’t have all morning for you to mess about.”

Poppy shrugs her shoulders and blows a raspberry right in her father’s face. “Let me go, I’m not going to school,” the five-year old squirms in her father’s grasp, less than thrilled at the prospect of getting dressed for school.

Simon briefly considers whether he should invest any more energy into their morning battle or if he should just concede and let his daughter win this round. Despite her protests, he keeps his hold on Poppy and tries his best to calm her down enough to reason with her. Sometimes Simon couldn’t believe this was his life, he was tussling with his daughter about getting ready for school, when in a past life all he was ever worried about was backing his team throughout a mission. He used to be a trained killer now the only thing he’s an expert at is making silly voices for all the book characters at bedtime.

“You were so excited about school just last night, what happened lovie, what’s going on with you?”

Poppy just stares at him with her big doe eyes, the ones that look exactly like her mother’s, and makes Simon’s chest ache painfully. It’s moments like these that make him feel like the grief would never end.

After a drawn-out minute, she finally squeaks out, “What if I don’t like school? What if people are mean to me?” Simon’s heart breaks at his little girl’s admission, he, of course, worried about those things too; he wasn’t sure he even wanted to send her off for hours every day, but he also knew that Poppy could handle it.

Simon grasps both of her much smaller hands, “You’re the best girl I know, what’s not to love yeah? I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends, sweetheart.” Simon isn’t sure who he’s reassuring more at this point, but he’ll say anything to get them both through this day and all the ones that come.

Poppy sighs loudly and by something short of a miracle, she concedes with getting dressed; Simon let her pick out her own outfit, in hopes that it would rekindle her previous excitement. It helped, but only marginally.

Standing in the doorway of the classroom, is not the teacher Simon had been expecting. When he thought of teachers, he imagined either super strict, uptight older women or bright and bubbly young women fresh out of university. You were neither of those – you wore a bright smile that reached your eyes, and your voice had the most warm and comforting lilt to it. Contrastingly, you were dressed head to toe in an all-black outfit, but it didn’t make you look dark and dreary, no, on you it worked quite well. Poppy finally, but reluctantly revealed herself from behind her father’s legs, and stepped forward to greet her new teacher.

“Hi! What’s your name?” you were clearly not from anywhere near, and Poppy immediately comments on it.

“My name is Poppy, like the flower, and you talk very funny.”

Simon groaned, “Poppy, that’s not very polite, love.”

“No, no it’s alright. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that this morning,” you laugh breezily, not affronted by the little girl’s observation. The sound of your laugh is like a mirage in a desert, and Simon is taken aback at how much the sound affected him. You crouch down and introduce yourself to Poppy, then rise to greet Simon as well. You hold out your hand, clearly in an attempt to shake his, and he shakes his head to clear his stupor and takes your hand. Your hands are much smaller than his own, and much softer, not calloused from battlefields and the hardships of life.

❀

You hope you’re coming off as a well put together adult, one who’s supposed to be in charge of people’s most precious gifts. Threatening to ruin your façade is the fact that you’re shaking hands with quite possibly the hottest man you’ve seen since you upturned your life and moved to London a few months ago. This is your student’s dad, jesus get a grip, you hastily remind yourself. You can’t help yourself though, and your eyes are roaming over his massive hands searching for a wedding band. You’re not sure whether it’s a good thing or not when you see there isn’t one. He’s hot, but he’s got a child, and you’ve just had your heart shattered into a million pieces this summer. The last thing you need is to be lusting after your student’s unreasonably hot father.

You’re not even sure you want to be here; nothing had gone the way you planned and now you’re a million miles away from your family – who had forewarned you that your ex maybe was not worth moving across the world for, but you were in love, you didn’t want to hear that.

Poppy, who seemingly gained some confidence, breezes past her father and finds her way easily into the classroom. You looked back up at her father, realizing you hadn’t caught his name – he tilts his head ever so slightly at you as if he’s trying to discreetly assess you and it makes your palms sweat.

“I didn’t catch your name, can’t call you Poppy’s dad all year now, can I?” you prod causally, laughing despite the stifling air that was forming between you two.

“You can call me Simon,” he replies elusively and suddenly you’re overcome with the feeling that there’s something mysterious about this man – and as attractive as he is, the revelation also makes you feel unnerved.

taglist: @happy-mushrooms @lunamoonbby

banners from @reveriesources and @cafekitsune pic creds: @ave661

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon #simon ghost riley fluff #oc: poppy #second chances au #mic writes

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 25 days

Note

Re: the previous anon asking about ramshackle, my personal hc is that it used to be the staff's dorm (I could be completely wrong, I haven't read the early books in a while). Then, when Crowley took over from the previous headmaster, he didn't hire any new staff and instead let the non-teaching current staff retire/quit/otherwise leave their positions and then employed ghosts (since they don't really need a place to "live" (ba dum tss)), and left Ramshackle to fall into disrepair. Whether or not these ghosts were the old staff or were just looking for jobs is up in the air (and also opens a whole can of worms about ghost economics, but I'm not willing to get into that here) For some reason he still hires living teachers and Sam, but I'm not sure if we ever get any details on where they live during the school year.

[Referencing this post!]

I went back into the prologue to check! The dialogue seems to suggest that Ramshackle used to house students. The Ramshackle Ghosts mention that people used to live there, then Crowley tells us "the ghosts scared away all the students." (Note that Crowley does not say “the ghosts scared away all the students AND staff.”) Thinking about it, staff lived at Ramshackle, well... it might be a little strange to have students visit them at their living quarters instead of in the classroom or their offices if they need academic assistance. Most likely Ramshackle served a similar function as the other dorms: student housing.

As for where staff stay… There was one line dropped by Crowley in the second Halloween event which implies the (current) staff may live off campus. I talked about it in this post!

We’re not sure exactly how long Crowley has been headmaster for or when Ramshackle exactly fell into ruin 🤔 I wonder if the main story (or extra materials/content) will cover that… We don’t even know if there was even a previous headmaster or if Crowley was just always the headmaster. From how he speaks (ie being salty at the 99 lose streak to RSA and honoring Lilia’s invite to NRC despite being hundreds of years later), it feels like Crowley has been in charge for a long ass time. It could be that he’s honoring his predecessor’s legacy or wishes, but he seems to personally be making the shots or reacting in a way that’s quite emotionally invested for someone who is newly taking up the mantle.

Mmmm, I wonder if it’s really as simple as Crowley letting the current staff go…? I’d imagine most can’t afford to quit their job or retire on the spot (unless he incentivized them to leave with a generous severance package). I do think employing ghosts in the place of living people to do odd jobs may be more cost effective though, seeing as ghosts have far fewer living expenses than the living. (No need for housing, food, most material possessions, etc.). Crowley could thus justify paying them less/j Although… This is also most likely an efficient way for the devs to reuse assets and not have to design unique characters or more mobs to fulfill the roles of odd job NPCs.

There is lore which states that ghosts are attracted to areas that are concentrated with magical energy, which may explain why NRC has so many ghosts lurking around. I wonder if Crowley just happened to notice all the ghosts lurking on campus (rather than actively seeking them out) and wanted to give them something fulfilling to do with their time, hence the jobs. (Do ghosts even have a need for employment or money when they don’t really have physical demands??? What would they even buy with their earnings, if they’re being compensated at all?) Some ghosts, like the ones that work in the cafeteria, seem to be brought in from the outside to serve more specific roles (ie as Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles instructors and cafeteria staff). The Ramshackle Ghosts though… I’m not sure about their origins?

So the Ramshackle Ghosts have taken up residence in the dormitory, but we don’t have much in the way of their history. It could be that they were random ghosts that migrated to NRC due to its magical draw?? Other unrelated ghosts seem to have been drawn to Ramshackle in the past (such as Eliza and her ghostly entourage in Ghost Marriage). Some have theorized the Ramshackle Ghosts are dead students, but the closest thing we get to proof of that is a line from book 2. One of the Ramshackle Ghosts says that he was a star magift/spelldrive player when he was alive—but this does not inherently imply he was a student, since the sport is very popular and widely played by mages, student or not.

There’s still so many mysteries wrapped up in Ramshackle… 🔍

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #disney twst #Ramshackle Ghosts #Lilia Vanrouge #Dire Crowley #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory #Eliza #Ghost Bride

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inthepassengerside · 16 days

Text

Halloween

warnings: oral (f), fingering, sir like once, dirty talk, cuddling before and after

a/n: this is old </3

masterlist

It was getting late. You had decided to go to a party closer an opposite side of the city with your friends—who were best friends with a group of boys.

It was a Halloween party, you had just dressed up as a simple angel. You had nothing in your closet as it was a last minute decision to go, and that was the only thing you could put together from previous years.

It was your third year of college, and you weren’t one to turn down a party. Even though you were upset at your friends for feeling the need to attend an hour before it begun, you still went. It was Halloween! You wanted to have fun.

So, you put on your white eyeliner and cute outfit and decided to go have a ball. You might have looked a little childish since your friends dressed, well, to be undressed, but, you hoped they could get some and have an eventful night. You weren’t looking for anything other than a good time.

As to the particular boys who were hosting this party, they were all nice. Calum was the closest to you guys, always checking up in the group chats and reaching out to invite you to these type of things.

None of the boys were dressed up, each in comfortable house attire. You thought it was very lame, not the type of energy a Halloween party should have.

Sometimes you felt forgotten, but it wasn’t anything towards your friends. You just weren’t as close to all the people they were. You got along with them well, Ashton, Michael, Calum, and Luke. You had spoken to Luke less than the others, as he was a little shy, but you knew he was a good guy.

As it was getting late, an incredibly heavy thunderstorm had begun. The people in the room lessened as bodies were leaving and you and your friends helped clean up. Nobody ever bothered to stick around for that part.

“Wow, it’s incredible outside,” Michael said as he walked to throw out some garbage he picked up.

“Oh shit! What are we going to do? We can’t drive home in this. The one time we all stayed sober, too,” Your friend let out a chuckle.

As all they all talked amongst themselves they decided it was the best to spend the night. Heat rose to your cheeks. Where were you going to sleep? You didn’t like sharing rooms or spending the night anywhere other than your bed. Thunderstorms terrified you already.

You sighed to yourself and sat down on the sofa as you finished your last spot of cleaning.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. It’s a queen sized bed. There are four of you though, anyone can take the floor or we can pull out some cushions from this couch,” Ashton shrugged.

You spoke up before anyone else took the offer, “If you guys are all cool with sharing a bed I’ll just take the couch down here,”

“Are you sure? There can be enough space if anyone wants to stay in our rooms too,” Calum said.

Luke was looking at his feet. He ruffled a hand through his hair and then pulled out his phone, sitting down across from you.

“Nah, thank you, but it’s fine. I honestly prefer it,” You sent him a shy smile, to which he mirrored back.

Your eyes landed on your friends, who were each sending you apologetic looks from across the room. You also smiled their way, waving your hand, telling them not to worry about it.

Ashton sighed, “Well, it’s been a long day guys, so I’m heading up. Thank you all for coming, we’ll see you in the morning.”

Everyone agreed and said goodnight, piling up the stairs one after another, except Luke, who wandered a few steps away into his room and shut the door.

It actually felt nice, the air conditioner kept the room cool and a comforting silence.

The only thing that sucked was the clothes you had on. You were waiting for someone to offer, but you’re sure it just slipped their minds. You were wondering if you could pull off just sleeping in your costume, but the thought of your skirt riding up and one of the guys finding you on the couch exposed made you nervous. You wandered over to Luke’s room since he was the closest and knocked on his door.

It took him a minute before he opened the door, his hair matted against his forehead and his face a little red, breathing heavy which was concerning. You decided not to dwell on it and just ask before he fell asleep. It had been a solid fifteen minutes after everyone said goodnight.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t sleep in these clothes. Do you mind if I borrow some? I swear I’ll have them back in the morning.” You rambled, biting the inside of your cheek out of nervousness. You wouldn’t feel this bad if you had talked to him on the regular, but you didn’t.

It took him a little while before he actually responded, just staring at you, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Luke opened the door wider so you could walk in. You took the time to admire the small, but comfortable room he had as you waited for some clothes. A tiny sofa chair, guitars, and posters aligned in a corner along with other items that resembled his character.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Luke, holding folded items as he extended them out to you.

“Thank you so much,” You said as you showed a small smile, “Like I said I’ll have these back tomorrow.”

He waved, “Stop, I don’t care about that. Get some sleep. There’s a bathroom along the other side of this wall for you to change.”

You glanced out the door to where he pointed and started walking towards it.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning,” You said to the blonde boy, making your way into the bathroom.

You set the clothes on top of the sink and started undressing. He had given you four items. A pair of boxers, a t-shirt, crewneck, and sweatpants. You put on the boxers and t-shirt and left the others on the sink folded next to your costume.

The thought of wearing another boy’s clothing made you blush, but you pushed the thought away just as fast as it entered your mind.

It was no doubt Luke was a very attractive man. You end up feeling upset sometimes that you’re not close with him because you want to spend more time with him. He’s also part of the reason you came to this party.

Flicking off the lights, you shut the door and made yourself comfortable on the couch. Ashton had brought you down pillows and covers as well.

You spent the next ten minutes scrolling on your phone before attempting to go to sleep.

———————————————————————————

Flashes of white keep you unsteady for the next half hour.

The uncomfortable couch didn’t help, the whole situation made you break out in sweats. Readjusting your position for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you ended up on your back.

Thunder roared as you jolted. You sat up, you were never going to fall asleep.

Before you could shut your eyes in effort to ease your restlessness, a door squeaked open and light dimly lit the room. Your head turned, noticing Luke standing in the doorway.

“Are you ever going to fall asleep?” He asked, tone nothing but serious.

You felt so embarrassed. You figured it wouldn’t be that obvious you were tossing and turning, but the noises of the couch creaking every time you turned didn’t help, “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”

He rubbed his tired eyes, “What’s keeping you awake?”

“The storm, and I can’t seem to get comfortable.”

He walked towards you and reached to collect your pillows and sheets, “Come sleep in my room. There’s only one window and I have thick curtains.”

“No, no, I promise you it’s fine.”

“You’re not going to fall asleep out here. C’mon.”

You sighed, “Thank you.”

He smiled, “Don’t mention it.”

You walked into his room and he put your pillows and sheets on the recliner. Walking towards it, Luke’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Um, getting ready to sleep.”

“You’re taking the bed, don’t even think about arguing it’s too late for that.”

You shook your head. “Luke I already feel guilty about waking you up. Please let me take the chair.”

You heard fake snores. Wow, okay.

You chucked to yourself. “Thank you.” Getting into his unmade bed, you flicked off the lamp on the nightstand as you both said goodnight.

Yet the thunderstorm was only getting worse. You spent the next five minutes embracing the cold sheets before realizing you were too scared to sleep alone.

You felt so embarrassed. Back home, you were able to tell one of your girlfriends to sleep in the same bed- yet share a respectable distance.

Shivers went down your spine. You had to suck it up, just for one night.

Before you could let your thoughts wander any deeper, you felt the bed dip and a faint smell of cologne. “I can see you shiver every time there’s movement outside. Is this okay? Are you uncomfortable?” Luke was spooning you— he draped his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You could cry, really, and the last few hours emphasized feelings for this boy that you didn’t know were already there. You felt your entire body get hot, yet all tension left it at the same time. You eased into his touch, pushing your head further into the pillows which resulted to his in your neck. You swore there were tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, very comfortable. Thanks.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He didn’t break his position. “We’re in a really intimate position right now, so I feel like there’s no other time to bring this up, but, I really want to get to know you better. I really like you,” the blonde chuckled.

“I do too, Luke. I would love to spend more time with you.”

You swore you were dreaming. You were all alone a few minutes ago, and now you’re sleeping in Luke’s bed— with him.

You felt his fingers move to your side, the digits playing and fidgeting with your exposed skin. He untucked his head from your neck, instead moving your hair over your shoulder and kissing along the space he created.

Heat immediately erupted all over your body. God, it’s been so long— too long— since you’ve been touched.

You melt into him, arching and breathing heavy. He sits up, leaving you both on your side, but to get easier access to your body.

Luke continues suckling on your neck, making noticeable marks no doubt. He nips at your ear, creating marks down your jaw. The blonde continues his suckling for a while, going back and licking at each of the marks before flipping you on your back.

You both can barely see each other, Luke flicks on the lamp next to his bed yet it’s still so dark you can only see his prominent features.

His face is flushed, lips parted and puffed, hair disheveled. So much like when you opened the door to ask for clothes an hour or two ago.

You’re sure you look similar— you feel heat course throughout your body and you’re incredibly needy for him and his touch.

He reaches forward after admiring you for a good while. “Can I take this off?” Tugging at your shirt.

“Yes.”

You practically cry out, you didn’t want to seem too touch deprived— but damn was this getting you.

He pulls up your shirt and admires your beauty. He looks like he’s starving and you’re the only meal in the room. “God help me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle, but it’s cut off quickly as he reaches down to start toying with your breasts. “Mm, such pretty tits all for me. Right? Just f’me?” You gasped, you weren’t expecting dirty talk this soon, but it was working. You were soaking your panties, you’re so sure the patch can be seen through his boxers.

“Mm, yes baby,” you moan. You were always loud in bed with each experience you’ve had. Most of the guys didn’t like it, so you tried to keep quiet this time.

Luke did the unexpected, bringing his mouth down to suck along your breast, keeping attention on the other as well. You closed your eyes, lost in bliss as he slightly nibbled your nipple. You cried out, glaring down at him just to see him already glaring up at you.

He switched, doing the same exact thing to the opposite breasts. It was going to be a long night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to it.

“How wet are you?” He murmurs as he glides down your body, peppering kisses until he meets the waistband of your—his—boxers.

You’re taken aback by the question, “what?”

“How wet did you get for me?” He repeated.

“Um, I want you,” you blushed.

He chuckled, “I know you do baby, but that wasn’t my question. I want you to tell me how wet you are. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, I can feel it Luke.” You want to break eye contact, but it feels impossible, the way he’s looking at you is addicting.

“Describe it to me. How does it feel?” He continues.

You moan, “I can feel it soaking my panties, Luke. It’s gushing out of me and I’m sure you’ll be able to see it through your boxers. I need it, please, I need you so bad.”

His lips part a good amount. He looks even hungrier than before, and you can tell your words tested him. The blonde wasn’t expecting you to be so— descriptive.

“Fucking christ, well let’s see then?” He sits back on his knees as you arch up for him, wanting him to see that you want him to see.

You were right, you’re absolutely soaked through and the wet patch is even bigger than you both expected. Luke sighed heavily.

“Looks like you’re right peach. Fucking drenched. You’re incredible.” You gave him innocent eyes when you looked up at him.

Boldness hit you. You wanted to say something, but debated saying it because you didn’t know if he would be into it or not. Taking a chance, you reply,

“Are you going to clean up my mess, sir?”

What were once oceanic blue orbs turned to navy, all you could sense was lust. Luke wasted no time. Ripping off his boxers and your panties in one go.

He lay flat on his stomach before diving right into your core. You slammed the palm of your hand onto your mouth, moaning right into it.

Right away, he rips your hand off your mouth and puts it into his hair. You tug at his locks. The strokes if his tongue were going back and forth between your entrance and clit. You glanced down at him and it was the biggest mistake, his glare towards you was enough to make your head fall right back to where it was on the pillow as your eyes rolled back.

He sucks your sensitive nub into his mouth, and it’s impossible to not hear the slurping. You’ve never felt pleasure like this before, in fact, you think this is the first time someones ever gone down on you. You bite your lip to surprise your moans, but it barely works.

Luke switches up, his mouth going down to push into and lap up at your core, cleaning up all the arousal that’s pooling out of you. He brings his fingers into the mix, thumbing at your clit and rubbing circles so roughly.

He continues his assault on your pussy in the most euphoric way. He sits up, his fingers still pumping inside of you.

“Baby, thinking about all the things Im going to do to you when you’re mine.. G’nna fuck this tight little pussy so good, so hard..”

You groan, “Please baby. Tell me how, tell me.”

“Mmm. Fuck you messy n’ tired. Take you from behind, slowly, and feel you up, kissin down your back. Or I’ll have you so good that you cum so much it hurts, but you still ask for more.”

He puts his mouth back on you and you cum right then and there. It’s such bliss you don’t understand how someone could ever make you feel like this. Flashes of white flash behind your eyes and you can’t tell if it’s lightning filling the room or just your aftershocks of the orgasm.

Luke is still going, lapping up your cum that leaks out of you. You’re hand that’s raked in his hair starts tugging, telling him to stop. He pulls back, coming up immediately to kiss you.

“That was incredible, thank you. I’ve never felt that before,” you compliment. He gives you a lazy smile.

You notice his erection against your leg as you sit up. “Let me take care of you?”

“Mmm, we both need sleep love. In the morning? Wake me up with it.” He smirks. Your face heats up again.

The boy pulls his shirt back over you, turning off the lamp and tucks you both into your covers.

Before you fall into a deep and comfortable sleep as Luke is rubbing your back, you think of what has just happened and smile to yourself. This event will play back in your head forever, and you can’t help but hope everything that’s happened with Luke will continue to evolve.

You hear and feel his quiet breathes, and you realize you’re not sure if you can ever sleep without him during thunderstorms again.

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loki-cees-all · 20 days

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Chapter 7 - All the Tiring Time Between {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}

Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Sometimes the sharpest boundaries require the gentlest touch.

Chapter W/c : 8.7k words

Chapter Tags / Content : Angst (as always), brief mentions of blood and injuries. Also there's a bunch of Tesseract lore and Loki's history with Thanos that I really got carried away with while writing this.

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

The silence in the cell was electrifyingly tense, and Loki wished he had something else to focus his attention on.

His jaw ached as he took another bite of the flavorless, perplexing bread that was both stale and damp at the same time. He should have been grateful for it and its distraction, despite the woman having offered it without even so much as looking at him. But it just reminded him of the year he’d spent with the Mad Titan: Wretched. Forsaken. Totally and completely hopeless.

Loki tried desperately not to think about it, but it was getting harder to fight as his exhaustion grew.

The woman sat across from him in the cell, her knees pulled to her chest and her expression blank. She’d said absolutely nothing after dismissing his question about Anathema the night prior, not even when the peculiar guards brought in their cruel attempt at a meal. She didn’t even flinch when they set the tray down in front of her, nor when the duo stared, cold and unmoving, presumably waiting for her to beg for her life like all the others…but she did wait until they were finally gone to pull the tray closer.

She had grabbed the chunk of bread first, and extended it towards him in the shadows like it was second-nature to her. As if it wasn’t ever an option that she wouldn’t share it, and despite the fact that they were in stark disagreement about their respective situations in this place.

He felt guilty for accepting the offering, but unfortunately, he felt like he had no other choice; his eyelids were growing heavier by the minute, his muscles were becoming weaker with each new day of disuse, and his nerves were perpetually fried with wary energy. He was constantly stifling another yawn, and was dangerously close to falling asleep, to having another nightmare again.

Loki didn’t know if he ever talked in his sleep, but he didn’t want to risk revealing any compromising information about himself or his past; the less anyone knew about him here, the better off they all were.

But other than the food she’d shared with him, there wasn’t much else for him to distract himself with. The woman wasn’t talking anymore, and her questions had faded away alongside the hope she may have once had about escaping. That left Loki to alone deal with his questions about her, and their inscrutable answers.

The problem with that, however, was that his mind was nothing but a tangled mess; a rat’s nest, made up of lies and false memories, the betrayals of the life he’d left behind, and all the lives that never were. Before him lay a scattering of dots, all seemingly unrelated and centered around a woman who claimed she didn’t know what they wanted with her, and he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of any of it.

Loki used to pride himself on his ability to see the bigger picture, especially on a galactic scale. But he had come here to hide and to wallow, to purposely let his mind atrophy into a cobweb of nothingness, because that was easier than continue trying, and failing, to be happy. He felt comfortable doing that, and letting this become his legacy, because he hadn’t ever expected a riddle to fall into his lap again. He hadn’t ever expected her.

As Loki swallowed the last of the bread, he forced himself to look at her again. She was still huddled against the wall, illuminated by the dim lantern light from the hallway and shivering in the cold dungeon like a scared little child. He was flabbergasted that she was still here, that they’d bothered bringing her back after being caught during an escape attempt. And he couldn’t help but hate himself, because the old Loki could have figured out why that was a very long time ago.

Next to her, the bowl of porridge sat on the floor, mostly untouched and definitely not enjoyed. Her expression was sullen as she stared off into the distance, and her limbs were folded around herself as she retreated deeper inward. It almost made him feel…something.

Of what exactly, Loki wasn’t quite sure; the feeling was old and familiar, something that was long lost while never really being understood in the first place. He told himself that the feeling was irrelevant, because it was just the mystery he found equal parts infuriating and intriguing. He just needed a bit more time than usual to settle the question marks, and then he could finally return to the blissful void of apathy.

And maybe she wasn’t lying when she claimed to not know who Anathema was, but he didn’t believe for a moment that she had no idea why the guards were so interested in her. Either she had something of theirs, or she knew some mysterious piece of information they didn’t yet - but they were obviously willing to play the long game in order to acquire it, and that couldn’t have been for nothing.

Perhaps it had something to do with the gem dangling from her necklace. Loki had seen her touching it, frequently and absentmindedly, running her slender fingers over the deep blue stone during stressed and quiet moments like now. Clearly it meant a lot to her; someone who loved her had given it to her. Someone she loved back, someone she probably missed dearly…

As he started to wonder if anyone was out there looking for her, Loki realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes. They landed once again upon the bowl of uneaten porridge next to her, and a new form of discomfort wove itself between the muscles of his shoulders and neck. It wrapped around his nerve-endings, stinging the open and frayed tendrils that had been worn bare from the pain of still being alive.

He was quite vulnerable existing like this, even though he knew she couldn’t see him hiding in the shadows. That she didn’t know what he was thinking, or where he was looking. That she was unaware of the fleeting relief that poured into his veins when she was brought back to the cell alive, or his shame at feeling anything that had immediately replaced it.

Loki had been flippant when she was initially brought in here. He was angry the first time she tried to share a meal with him. And then he was conflicted, at best, when she was dragged back in the second time. This paltry range of emotions was far more than he was previously used to; he felt like he was drowning in it, like it was slowly collapsing his airways and squeezing out every last ounce of oxygen from his lungs.

Because there was only one person on this planet who knew his name. A single individual, throughout all of space and time, knew where he was. She was the sole witness to his current existence, and he’d never felt more uncomfortable or on display than here and now. She had met him at his worst, in his ultimate moment of triumph when he’d finally been able to remove himself from any and all equations, from every problem that ever needed solving, and he absolutely hated that.

Loki thought he’d finally accounted for everything when he had stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon. He thought he’d finally fixed the issue, himself, for literally everyone - and then this tiny little variable had shown up so unexpectedly to completely ruin it for him.

He should have been angrier about it. He should have been furious and seething and shaking with rage over this egregious betrayal of the universe. Being alone had been the whole point, keeping everyone safe from him had been his only intention, seeking protection from the pain of both betrayal and being betrayed was all that Loki had left. Why wasn’t he allowed that meager peace of mind?

Damnation clung to Loki like a frightened child clung to his mother’s skirts, trembling in the dark and begging for acknowledgement of its traumatized state. It lurked around every corner and it haunted every shadow, constantly weeping and whimpering and howling out its anguish to cruel and uncaring souls. It was always there, lingering in the corner of his eye, reminding him of just how helpless and useless he was. That he should just give up. That he should just end it already.

But sometimes, the damnation would transform into something far more sinister, into the tall, skulking form of a cerulean demon. Hanging over his shoulder and digging its claws into his neck, the demon would spit cruel maledictions into his ear. Didn’t Loki know that everyone around him was already doomed? Wouldn’t it be kinder to just kill them now, rather than waiting for him to ruin their life and then cruelly and inevitably take it from them?

Hiding in the dungeon was the only reasonable compromise between the frightened child and the viscous demon warring in his mind. If only he had stuck with that plan, if only he hadn’t revealed that someone else was alive in the cell with her, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Regret, his oldest and only friend, wouldn’t be blaring its horn and sounding the alarm bells and crying out for solace. So why did it bother him so much now that she wasn’t eating?

Loki shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, weighing the options in his mind. The regret of initially engaging with this woman didn’t mean he couldn’t change tactics; and if she wasn’t eating, then it wouldn’t be too much longer until he was on his own again. That had been his initial plan, and there was no reason he couldn’t return to that now. Wasn’t being alone all he ever wanted?

“You should finish your meal. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before they bring another…” The words felt like acid on Loki’s tongue, dripping down his throat to eat away at his insides. He hoped they had come out as bluntly as he’d intended, but in reality, it just sounded like something his mother would have said.

This time, the woman didn’t shudder when he finally broke the tense silence. She didn’t even react at all, other than to sigh heavily and respond in a low and flattened tone. “What’s the point…?”

“Well, clearly they’d prefer you to be alive, for whatever reason…” Loki’s jaw tensed as he paused, struggling to understand why he was even bothering. “Even if they bring food on an irregular basis, it’s still more than anyone else gets…”

“Maybe the only reason they want me alive is so they can continue mocking and hurting me.”

That was a more difficult point to contend with; perhaps the guards had just grown weary of the simple and mundane murders, and they’d decided to go with something more entertaining this time. What if there wasn’t a more complicated explanation for the guards' motivations? What if he was searching for logic that didn’t even exist?

Loki stifled another yawn as he leaned back against the stone wall, raking his fingers through tangled curls that were just as chaotic as his thoughts. There had to be something he was missing while attempting to put this puzzle together. “So what did the guards say when they caught you escaping?”

The woman let out a heavy exhale, and her tone shifted into a more sarcastic tone. “Oh, normal things like what are you doing out of your cell?, and no one’s coming to rescue you. Typical kidnapper things, you know…”

Loki couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her nonchalant answers, but what else was he expecting? He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth putting this much effort into avoiding sleep. Nothing else in his life prior to meeting her had been easy, so why was he expecting this to go smoothly?

“Actually, the guard did say something strange before knocking me out…” The woman trailed off, pausing as she furrowed her brow.

Loki cleared his throat as he looked towards her again. “Strange how?”

“Maxine - or Nulan, whichever one it was…They caught me upstairs in their private quarters. Just before attacking me, they said what is gone…may never return.” The woman pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she recalled the memory. “I’ve never heard it before, and I have no idea what it means…”

What is gone…may never return. Loki turned the phrase backward and forward in his mind, trying to find its place in this absolutely confounding puzzle. But he’d never heard anyone say anything even remotely close to it, so there was nowhere for it to go. The phrase’s sentiment, however, he understood perfectly well.

“It was probably just a threat, or a taunt…” she continued with a dismissive shake of her head. “They were just mocking me, for losing everything…”

“Or it’s a prayer. A desperate request, for some kind of reprieve…” Loki murmured in reply. He didn’t want to think about whether anyone had ever hoped for the same thing after he’d finally walked away, but he was positive that they had. And he hadn’t meant for his interpretation to sound so melancholy, but as his gaze caught the woman’s matching expression, he could feel her understanding of his meaning. Loki hated that.

She must have sensed that as well, because she quickly forced a false smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No…surely they must have been talking about me losing my boots.”

Her smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared, shifting into a grimace as a violent shiver shuddered over the limbs she struggled to pull close enough. She breathed out a heavy sigh and lowered her forehead to her knees with another tremble, and for once, Loki was grateful for the Jotun physiology keeping him relatively comfortable. But the woman didn’t share the same luxury of such a curse, and she was clearly suffering in these dank and grim conditions.

Loki turned his attention towards his fingers, twitching and fidgeting restlessly in his lap. This particular guilt was both new and unwelcome, like the haunting of fresh ghosts he thought he’d finally manage to not brutally murder for once. It wasn’t directly his fault she was here, that she was suffering. She was a complete stranger, after all, and this couldn’t have been his problem, or his responsibility.

But as Loki lifted his gaze again, carefully moving his eyes to avoid looking upon her once more, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s forgotten boots in the shadows, the ones carelessly stripped away while the guards were searching her the night before.

He recalled one of the first lessons Odin had explained about ruling a kingdom, that sometimes tact and finesse were far more effective than blades or might. Perhaps if Loki was kind instead of harsh, and if he returned the boots to the frozen woman, then she might help alleviate the nagging questions he still had and allow him to fight off sleep for just a little bit longer.

His brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard as he realized this was the least he could do for the both of them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like chopping off a limb when he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak again. “Your, um…boots are in here. They might help you with the…cold.”

The woman’s head popped back up, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned for them in the darkness. “Where are they? I don’t - ” she replied, clumsily attempting to push herself upright, obviously eager to get them back on as soon as possible.

Loki felt an odd sense of duty, one that had been buried deep underneath the many eons of pain, and it compelled him to act before he had the chance to second-guess himself. He moved slowly, shifting his weight onto his hip, and extended his arm out. His fingers were just long enough to barely grasp the black leather pull loops, to drag them closer and then place them within her reach while maintaining a safe distance, and without the need for him to stand.

A faint smile crossed her lips as she stretched to pull them closer. “Thank you so much, Loki.”

He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact anymore; it was hard enough to listen to the bewildered gratitude in her voice. His every movement had stayed within the safe confines of the shadows, and he imagined that she saw her boots reappearing as if from the loving aid of a benevolent god, of someone else who was capable of caring.

“It was nothing,” he told them both.

He had fully intended to return his attention back inward, but he found himself distracted by the woman as she shifted on the floor. Curling and stretching her limbs, gracelessly attempting to pull a boot back on with a single hand, and then reluctantly, with both hands. She let out a gasping whimper as she tried to extend out her left arm, and Loki noticed her fingers trembling as she tried to push through the pain.

Obligation flared along his spine again, but this time, Loki questioned it. A childhood memory surfaced, of when his father would return home from war, bruised and exhausted and weary, and Loki would rush to his side, eager to help with removing his armor and assist in any way he could. He thought maybe if he proved himself useful, eager and determined, like his older brother was, then Odin might finally give him a chance to fight alongside him.

But even though his seidr had been well-advanced for his age, his father had always refused to bring Loki along, despite never leaving home without Thor. Odin had said that Loki wasn’t ready yet, that he wasn’t strong enough, that it was too dangerous for a little boy to be out on the field and surrounded by their mortal enemies.

“Such a young prince falling into the hands of Asgard’s opponents could prove disastrous to the realms,” his father had said, even though that fear had never stopped him from bringing Thor into battle. It wasn’t until much later that Loki realized the truth, that the only real use he had wasn’t needed back then - not until the direst of circumstances forced his father’s ultimate and final hand.

The woman let out a sharp groan, bringing Loki back to the present. She had collapsed back against the wall, sniffling and brushing the messy strands of crimson hair away from her face. “Loki, I’m so sorry…but can you please…?”

His eyes widened, and hers were full of tears. Her cheeks reddened, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke with a cracked voice. “Please help me? I’m so cold, and I can’t…I can’t get these back on…”

It wasn’t like the cold, calculating demands he was previously used to, and Loki realized that it pained her to ask like this. She wasn’t trying to get anything out of him, she wasn’t manipulating her way into something more than she deserved, or trying to get him to commit atrocities in her name.

It wasn’t a game or a trick designed to be laughed at later with her friends; she genuinely just needed his help. But the problem was that this kind of assistance not only required him to vacate the shadows, to come closer and share the same air as her - it necessitated physical touch. Loki was sure he couldn’t handle that.

The muscles in his fingers articulated of their own accord, separating and curling into just the right place to summon and concentrate his seidr, intent on disassembling the atoms that made up the woman’s boots and reassembling them back where they belonged.

A suitable compromise, Loki believed, except that absolutely nothing happened. The warmth that normally accompanied his magic was nowhere to be found, that familiar connection to the past and the present, to his mother, wasn’t opening its loving arms to welcome him back home - and that was when he finally remembered.

Loki’s seidr was dead, because he was supposed to be dead.

He’d forsaken his magic as soon as he’d arrived here. Once he willingly stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon, once he’d realized that the first thing this newly-freed universe had done was trap him yet again, he decided that this time it was really meant to be.

So he didn’t bother fighting it, and he willingly let go of the tendrils of seidr he had once clung so tightly to. He didn’t deserve the honor of wielding it, not after what he’d done in New York. And what use would that magic have been to the hollowed-out shell of a person he was now? What good could he have possibly done with it anyway?

“Loki?”

Once again, the woman’s quiet voice refocused his attention. Her expression had fallen even further during his silent brooding, and she was staring woefully into the dark, desperately hoping to see him finally coming to her aid. A deep sense of dread rose up within his chest, thick and impenetrable, oozing between his ribs to singe and suffocate his lungs like molten lava.

Loki didn’t know what to do, and yet, he moved anyway. Pressing his palms flat against the stone floor, he bent his knees and carefully pushed himself upright. His joints cracked and popped, his muscles were stiff and sluggish as he slid one foot forward, and the belt around his waist was far looser than when he’d initially put it on.

Taking another step closer, his mind suddenly dizzied, and his body began to sway dangerously from the juxtaposition of pushing himself forward while he’d been wasting away. He quickly grabbed onto the wall with a sharp gasp, trying to steady himself as his legs tingled themselves awake.

“Loki…are you alright?” the woman murmured, her brow furrowing with concern.

“I’m fine, it’s just - ” Loki sighed heavily, his heart pounding and muscles trembling. “I’m just not used to…standing.”

Loki closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment, willing his body back into operating under his own control. But despite his best efforts, weariness and exhaustion were still permanently at the helm, relentlessly steering him back towards collapsing and passing out again.

“It’s alright. Take your time…”

Loki’s eyes snapped back open, painfully aware that she was still watching him closely, and he did everything he could to both avoid her gaze and her reassurance. Nothing about this was alright, and he could hear his father’s chastising voice from beyond the stars, criticizing him for allowing enervation to consume him - even though that was the only way to keep himself out of trouble.

His eyes flitted across the dungeon cell, feverishly taking in the stone walls and steel bars of the door, then out to the flickering lantern light of the hallway. Loki had never even bothered to take a good look at his coffin before committing to staying in it for all eternity, but from this elevation, he could clearly examine the cuts that made up the large slabs of the walls and floor. Meticulous, flawless, precise - too perfect to have been sliced by hand.

His gaze moved to the cream-colored candlestick suspended within the single lantern in the hallway, evenly melted away and without a single speck of soot upon the glass encasing it. From there, he could make out the grooves carved by the steel bars into the doorway’s arch as it swung open and closed, and the streaked and dark stains, smudged against the grayed and leadened floor, leading from the hallway back into their cell.

The woman’s blood, he assumed, and Loki’s hands clenched into fists. His throat tightened, and the slightest hint of outrage began to reluctantly wake from its slumber.

Forcing the feeling away, Loki finally closed the distance and carefully crouched in front of the woman; only then did he let her be the focus of his attention. Loose and uneven strands of crimson had been pulled free from the long, disheveled braid nestled untidily over her shoulder;her skin was wan and pallid, and her lips were tinted with the faintest hint of blue.

Dried blood had smeared on her ear, her neck, the lengths of her hair and along her cheek. It was everywhere, mixed with the dirt and muck from the floor, coating the corners of her cracked lips and the freckles that dotted her cheekbone. The fact that the blood was dried, meaning the original wound was at the very least no longer actively bleeding, did nothing to make him feel better.

Loki lowered one knee down to the floor, precariously settling his weight onto one ankle, and the woman’s attention was now entirely fixed on her boots. She swallowed nervously, and Loki silently agreed with the sentiment. How long had it been since he’d touched another person? Did he even remember how to be gentle? How to not contaminate?

Moving cautiously, he took a boot into his grasp, threading his fingers between the loops and slowly pulling to loosen its laces. While he worked, he focused on the soft leather: its scent was herbal, earthy, and with just the barest suggestion of sweetness. Intricate designs, swirls and constellations and rays of light emanating from an overly-stylized sun were stitched into the leather, extending from the collar and flowing down way past the ankle.

Soft, pliable and shiny, the leather still showed signs of its latest polish, applied with a healthy dose of high-quality wax, from underneath the layers of grim. The boots had been methodically cared for, regularly and recently, and probably not too long before the woman found herself in custody of the mysterious guards. Loki found himself curious about the circumstances of her capture.

Stained in the same shade of night as the leathers covering her legs, they blended seamlessly together with the rest of her clothing, from the thin stockings on her feet to the chipped lacquer on her fingernails. Everything was the exact same color, save for the thin, flowing emerald tunic that had long since come untucked, and the gem that hung from her neck.

And everything she wore was undoubtedly expensive, most likely customized for this particular owner, and she had obviously not dressed for being locked inside a damp and grimy dungeon. At best, she was prepared for a pleasant walk through the woods on a mildly chilly evening; Loki tried not to think about it too much.

Out of his peripheral vision, Loki could see the woman stealing glances up at him. She watched him carefully, her sea green eyes shifting cautiously between his face, his hands, and the boot he was unlacing - obviously examining and judging the hideous monster whose help she had no choice but to accept.

Loki began to feel self-conscious. There was no doubt that his own appearance wasn’t any better than her own at the moment; in fact, he was sure it was much, much worse. Dark and unkempt curls hung way past his shoulders like sinister snakes. The skin on his hands was sullen and pallor, shifting dangerously close to bluish gray, and he had no idea if his eyes had begun to drift back into their original shade of ruby-red or not. He promised himself that this would be the only time she ever saw his face up close.

When he could no longer justify stalling with the laces, he cleared his throat, and forced his fingers to tap the underside of her leg; a featherlight touch that could have been easily missed if one hadn’t been expecting it. But the woman again mercifully sensed his meaning, and she positioned the appropriate foot for him to slide the boot on.

Too well, Loki noticed, as he pulled the collar up to settle around her calf; she was exceptionally practiced at having others put footwear on her - at tensing the right muscles at just the right moment, and extending the leg with just enough force to seat the foot comfortably against the insole.

“Sorry about this…” she mumbled as Loki pulled the laces tight and began looping them back and forth around the hooks. “Although, this is probably the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while, huh?”

She was trying to lighten the mood, to distract from the previous awkwardness of such close quarters. Loki’s response was flat and measured, his attention focused on tying instead of talking. “Like I said - it’s nothing.”

A nervous silence followed, one that was far more uncomfortable than the awkwardness. Loki hadn’t meant to be so dismissive, and perhaps he’d been far too frigid for someone who was supposed to be helping her. When he finished the final loop, he cleared his throat again and forced himself to look up again.

“Is that…too tight for you?” he murmured softly.

The woman managed a weak smile as she flexed her ankle. “No. It feels fine.”

Loki noted that her pupils dilated ever so slightly when she met his gaze, and he took that as a good sign that her head injury wasn’t a completely serious one. He wasn’t sure why he was noting that, but nonetheless, he had, and he didn’t have the energy to start questioning it. Instead, he busied himself with picking up the other boot and threading his fingers underneath its laces like he’d done with the first.

“Is this all I have left? Just waiting in this cell to die?”

Her voice had taken on a somber, more sorrowful tone now; apparently open anguish was much easier for her than polite small-talk, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted, Loki would have guessed there would have been more than a tear or two accompanying her questions. He wasn’t sure how to answer her; bringing up the fact that the other prisoners before her had never lasted more than a day or two, or the fact that they were never returned once removed from their cells, probably wasn’t going to help her mood very much.

“At least they’re leaving you alone for the most part,” Loki answered, lightly tapping his fingers underneath her other leg for the placement of its boot. “Be thankful for relative peace.”

The woman sighed heavily as she cooperated. “Relative peace. That’s all I have to look forward to?”

“For some, that’s all they’ve ever wanted,” Loki said absentmindedly. “They’d kill for it, and others willingly die in its pursuit…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in troubled concern, and Loki tried to ignore it. He couldn’t understand why he was like this, either speaking too familiarly with the woman, or far too flippantly. He was out of practice when it came to any sort of normal conversation, but he didn’t want to be accustomed to it again. In the end, she was just a temporary distraction, and he wasn’t supposed to even exist at all.

“That’s very enlightened, coming from someone who has nightmares every time he closes his eyes…” the woman replied as he finished tying the laces on the other boot. She flexed that ankle, and then nodded her approval while pulling her knees back against her chest.

Loki’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze once more. Her eyes were wide and open, appearing to be without a single shred of judgment, only empathy. Loki couldn’t help but scrutinize her for that. If she only knew how little he deserved kindness, and he was irritated that she’d noticed how bad his nightmares were at all. He’d rather have not known that his weakness was on complete display, and thus, beyond his complete control.

Slowly pushing himself back up to standing, grateful that the task and its requisite close proximity were finally over, Loki’s fingertips trailed along the cold stone as he backed into the shadows again. But lethargy was creeping back in, along with the ever-present unsettled and restless energy, and when Loki returned to sitting, he wasn’t quite as far into the dark as he had been before.

“You know, it may help your nightmares to talk about them,” the woman suggested cautiously. “Perhaps unburdening yourself a little would be a good thing…”

Loki grimaced. Of all the ways she could have worded it, he wished it hadn’t been in that specific way. As it were, various burdens of all sorts were already going to haunt him until the end of time, it seemed, and he preferred not to be reminded of the purposes initially set upon him by Thanos. And even if he wanted to, where should he begin?

He still didn’t quite understand what exactly had happened to him on Knowhere; that entire year was just a chaotic haze of torture and manipulation, through both physical and psychological means, and it was impossible for him to decipher what was real and what was a lie. Even now, he couldn’t even recall the exact circumstances that led to his descent from the Bifrost and into Thanos’ control.

Sometimes, he could clearly remember the decision to let go of Gungnir and fall into the abyss; other times, he was absolutely convinced that his brother had pushed him in a jealous rage, furious that Loki’s short tenure as King had proved far more successful than any longer one Thor could have ever managed.

Either way, the fall had resulted in him becoming Thanos’ prisoner, and then later, as a member of the Black Order - but only after they’d finally conceded that physical torture was never going to work on the body of a Frost Giant, on an Asgardian prince raised as a warrior, or on a powerful sorcerer who already had extremely complicated feelings about being alive in the first place.

But once they realized that he just wanted somewhere to belong, they finally started to see real progress, and the emotional manipulation that followed was probably more effective than they could have ever hoped for. It was so very easy to muddy the rough waters of Loki’s psyche thanks to the Chitauri Scepter and his tremendous heartbreak - a kind word here, a clever lie there, and nothing but speeches about revenge and betrayals, destinies and purposes, salvation and redemption, and scorned Kings and their disgraced sons.

After Loki had been welcomed into the fold, Thanos explained his need for the Tesseract; if Loki acquired it, then he would be granted an army to help take Midgard by as excessive and violent force as he deemed necessary. The God of Mischief already knew that he wanted to be as destructive as possible - to both completely cripple his brother’s fondness for the pathetic humans, and to show Odin that he would settle for being a terrifying leader if he wasn’t permitted to be a good one.

His idea for retrieving the Tesseract had been a clever one; so clever that Loki wasn’t surprised that Thanos or the Black Order hadn’t ever considered it before. But getting to suggest it meant that his new Master was immediately pleased with his usefulness, something that had rarely happened with his previous keeper, and Loki was so grateful for the opportunity to satisfy.

Out of the six Infinity Stones, the Space Stone was unique in that it could generate massive amounts of self-sustaining energy. Its power signature was incredibly easy to track, and it didn’t take long for Loki to determine the Tesseract’s location inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility. Under Fury’s careful and watchful eye, the mortals were studying its capabilities for power production, no doubt to be used in some kind of advanced weapons manufacture instead of something that could actually be used to help mankind.

A stereotypically short-sighted action, one that would soon be their downfall, because none of those weapons would ever be able to stop him from completing his task. Had they realized the stone’s true potential, as Loki had, then perhaps the humans might have fared better during his invasion.

Because he knew something that apparently no one else did, something he now prayed that no one else would ever be able to figure out. Loki was in the unusual position of understanding exactly how the Bifrost had operated, of how it could easily send and receive anything from across the galaxies with frightening and pinpoint accuracy. As a child, he was fascinated by the Bifrost, and more than once Heimdall had to stop him from attempting to disassemble it while searching for the details of its inner workings.

Once informed of her son’s unyielding curiosities, his mother had patiently redirected that energy towards Asgard’s massive libraries. There, he spent many late nights pouring over the texts and histories of the magnificent Bifrost. Once he’d devoured all he could from words, he then spent his time exploring the Realm and looking for means of travel that didn’t involve going to the Bifrost at all.

And thanks to the Mad Titan’s relentless and universal conquest in search of the stones, Loki had access to incalculable amounts of lore, research and history that had been stolen from countless cultures and societies. He spent months buried in books and manuscripts, performing calculations and practicing his seidr, searching desperately for the perfect combination of science and magic to get him what he needed.

All of that, when combined with his extensive knowledge of the Bifrost, allowed Loki to realize that all he needed was a power-source. It must have been fate and its impeccable sense of humor, because the Space Stone could be the engine, and the Tesseract was going to be the gateway - a terrible, incredible bridge between where you were, and where you desperately wanted to be.

For Loki, the Tesseract was going to deliver him to vengeance, respect, authority and glory - in a way that no one would be able to undo once he finally got it. His brother, his father, the entire Nine Realms and beyond, all of them would be powerless to stop him once he figured out how to open the Tesseract’s portal from the other side.

Returning to his research with a new sense of delirium, he gave up on sleep, and food, and his sanity while he searched for the answer. His cheeks became hollow, his eyes were sunken deep into his skull, and his skin grew weak and frail. His nerves were on the verge of total disintegration, his heart ached and his mind was hazy.

His every waking thought was consumed by the Tesseract, and on the rare occasion that he actually passed out, so were his nightmares. He became too lost to even carry on a conversation; all he could manage were grunts and groans and strange approximations of the word “Tesseract”. Every part of himself, anything that had once been Loki, had all but slipped away.

But occasionally, Loki would come back to himself. He would look down at his hands in horror, and he wouldn’t understand where he was or how he got there. While screaming and lashing out, the one called Ebony Maw would preach about balance, about salvation and judgment and how Loki was destined to assist the Great Titan in saving all of life, by ending half of it. He was instructed to be grateful for being allowed to take part in it.

But it didn’t make any sense, and Loki tried so hard to resist, to fight them off, to scramble to the exit and free himself, to warn someone of the terrible thing that was coming. Then, something would happen, something would touch him, and his mind would cloud back over with rage and madness. The dangerous craving for the Tesseract would return tenfold, and then he would be back on task, more eager than ever to please.

After a quick journey through the minds of the men known as Selvig and Barton, Loki finally had everything he needed to complete his sacred mission. The astrophysicist filled in the last remaining gaps about the Tesseract’s functionalities, and the archer revealed information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security protocols - how many personnel were on site, what types of weapons they had, where they’d been trained. The details of every file stored on their secret servers, every individual’s personal histories - including that of the beings once considered to join the so-called Avengers, the ones that might be called upon to stop him.

On his first attempt, Loki succeeded in opening the Tesseract’s portal. One moment, he was standing on Thanos’ ship, and the next, he was inside the research facility, shrouded within a haze of smoke and mania. By the third second, he was ferociously attacking, moving and acting without consideration for the stealth or secrecy he’d been trained with as a child. He didn’t even bother dodging the humans’ pathetic projectiles; instead, he focused on murdering the ones he had already deemed useless to his cause, and using the Sceptre to convert the ones that were worthy of it

Nor did he bother mincing words with Fury as the Director stalled for time, not even the ones ripped directly from Ebony Maw’s impassioned and self-important speeches. Loki already knew how unstable the gateway was, and that was by design. During his maniacal studies, he had determined how best to sustain the portal’s opening for safe and easy passage - first, in order to allow entry for the Chitauri forces, and then to facilitate easy travel for Thanos to find the rest of the stones later on.

Loki’s first act of murder had been intentionally not stabilizing the portal as it opened inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; he had wanted the structure to collapse in a stunning display of destruction. Whether it was to be an ominous warning for what he was about to do, or if it was to serve as a call to action for the only ones who could have prevented him from succeeding, he still wasn’t quite sure.

Either way, he ultimately failed in the only way that had mattered. Loki didn’t achieve vengeance or respect or authority, and there was no victory or glory waiting for him after it was over. The Chitauri Forces were destroyed, the Tesseract was not handed over to Thanos per their agreement, and he’d made a great many vicious and unforgiving enemies that day.

In the end, the only thing waiting for him was a prison cell on Asgard, and all he’d managed to do was to make everything worse.

And presumably, after it was over, Thanos still had access to all of Loki’s research. Losing out on the Tesseract would have infuriated him and the Black Order; a minor inconvenience, sure, but it wouldn’t have hindered their quest in the slightest. Thanos still knew how to use the Tesseract because of him - and more importantly, he understood how to use it in the most destructive way possible. That was completely and entirely Loki’s fault, and he just hoped that Thanos was arrogant enough to keep that information to himself, that no one else would try and fail in the same catastrophic way that Loki had.

Maybe the Tesseract wasn’t meant to be used as a gateway, and in doing so, Loki had ensured that he’d never get what he wanted, and that he’d lose what little he had left. All of that madness and frantic chaos and deliberate carnage had been for absolutely nothing. Maybe the Tesseract was cursed, and maybe, so was he.

Because every single time Loki had come into contact with it, his life had taken a drastic and even more devastating turn for the worse. Attempting to acquire it for Thanos had broken him - mind, body, and soul; fleeing New York with it had landed him in the clutches of the TVA; and apparently, it had been his ultimate destiny to die while trying to keep it from the Mad Titan.

The absolute last thing Loki ever wanted was to be reminded of the Tesseract - more than he wanted silence, or solitude, or to rot. And now this woman wanted to know what his nightmares were about?

Even if he had made it to the prison cell on Asgard, he wasn’t planning to explain himself to anyone. What was he supposed to tell his brother, his mother, his father? That he’d been deceived? Were they going to believe that he’d fallen for someone else’s lies so easily, and without question? That the God of Mischief himself had been tricked, played for a fool and made to be the universe’s largest and most pathetic scapegoat?

No, trying to justify his actions would be a grave disservice to the innocent lives he’d taken, and telling the truth was next to impossible. Even just talking about the betrayal of his family would be too much for him to bear, and that was the only aspect of the entire thing that Loki had never, ever second-guessed.

The woman continued stealing glances in his direction, from just a few feet away now. Still waiting for him to say something, anything, to help keep her mind distracted from her own plights. For the briefest of moments, he actually considered asking if she’d ever heard of the Tesseract, or the Infinity Stones. If she knew who Thanos was, if he’d ever been to this planet before…but as Loki fidgeted with his tie, running his fingers over the frayed and broken seams in the cloth, he knew the answer didn’t matter.

The appropriate time to have asked that question would have been when he’d first arrived, back when the TemPad still had the power to take him some place else if need be. But now the TemPad was dead; he was trapped here, and the longer he could go without hearing about the Tesseract, the better. The longer he could go on in the blissful ignorance of relative peace, and without talking about himself, the easier this would be for everyone.

“How did you wind up here anyway?” He winced as he spoke, hating himself for being more than a little curious about it. “I can’t imagine the guards asking you to come along nicely…”

The woman hesitated for a moment, no doubt replaying the events in her mind and wishing she had done something differently. Her fingers grasped the gem that hung from her neck, and she swallowed hard. “I was…taken from Tessaway, my home, in the middle of the night.”

She paused, her eyes focused on something non-existent in the distance. “I don’t know how they made it past the sentries, but they…managed, somehow. They took me from my bed, while I slept…”

Loki shook his head, trying to appear sympathetic. “You lived in a heavily guarded city. It must be a very dangerous place…”

“Tessaway isn’t a city,” she corrected, furrowing her brow as she looked over at him. “It’s the castle in Fayrest. You know, the capital city…?”

He didn’t know any of that, of course, having never left this cell. The woman looked like she wanted to say more but was afraid to, and he couldn’t help but think about why she had seemed to imply before that no one was going to rescue her. “Wouldn’t someone from the castle have noticed your absence? Surely they have to be looking for you by now…”

“No…” The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, her expression broken and forlorn. “No, I was just a servant. No one important enough to miss…”

Loki had been studying her carefully ever since he’d realized her captors were going to keep her alive for much longer than they had the others. Her movements were elegant and refined, her clothing and jewelry expensive and customized, her speech graceful and enchanting; the kind of charming that could only come from years of practice. He didn’t believe for a second that she was just a servant working in a castle.

But she was also clearly in a tremendous amount of pain, and for whatever reason, was keeping the origins of her birth a secret. Loki wondered what might have happened to him if he had been given that luxury, if he hadn’t been the only one to not know the truth about himself.

“Ah, a servant,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood a little. His unpracticed lips curved into a forced and lazy grin. “That certainly explains why you’re so concerned about my well-being…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in amusement, and she tilted her head curiously as if taking his comment as a challenge. “What’s the matter? Are you not used to someone worrying about your well-being?”

Loki’s jaw tensed; perhaps he hadn’t been behaving as opaquely as he hoped, and he hated that she could see through him just as well as he could through her. He glanced over, and decided to provoke her right back. “Well, I’m sure they’ll miss you at the castle eventually. Like when there’s pots that need washing, or linens that need changing?”

“Yes, yes, that’s very funny…” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I get it, the thing about servants is that no one knows your name until something you normally do suddenly isn’t being done anymore…”

The woman turned, and she met his gaze with a considering and dissecting one of her own. “Like you - you don’t need anything from me, so why would you ever bother learning my name?”

From just a few feet away, the woman stared deep into his soul, tugging at the strings that still held him upright and all but questioning if they were even necessary. He waited until she looked away to furrow his brow again, because while she was right about him not needing anything from her, she was surely mistaken about the other half of her point.

Because he did actually know her name; it was the first new name he’d learned in such a very long time, and he thought it suited her quite well, all things considered. But he had been trying to avoid acknowledging it, not wanting it to mean something more than what it was.

It was just a name, after all; a series of specific vocalizations designed to get her attention. Saying it out loud didn’t mean that they were friends, or that they were even important to each other. It wouldn’t bind them in any way, or obligate him to care. But if that were true, then why did he have such a problem with saying it?

Loki could feel a nervous energy creeping relentlessly up his spine again. He wished it would stop receding, that it would stay put, because the constant shifting between relaxing and stressing was completely wearing him out. He told himself he just needed to say it out loud and get it over with, before he could start second-guessing and talk himself out of it again - especially now that she had noticed his careful avoidance of her name.

“What kind of servant knows how to fight with a staff anyway?” Loki asked, affecting an innocent and casual tone. “I guess servants named Oliviette do…”

After he answered his own question, Loki looked towards her again, and Oliviette was already smiling back at him; it was a bleary and quiet acknowledgement, but the sentiment was definitely noteworthy. For the first time since they’d met, he could see the dimples in her cheeks, and it was impossible to miss the way her eyes lit up with mirth, or how her lips pursed before she finally responded.

“What? Am I not allowed to have hobbies outside of work?”

Loki struggled to not return her smile. He almost felt a sense of appreciation for her snark and the much-needed diversion from the constant aching in his chest. It was only then that he remembered that this was supposed to be a temporary distraction; he couldn’t afford to spend needless energy that didn’t directly involve finding out why the guards were keeping Oliviette alive for this long.

Keeping a safe distance was paramount, his new glorious purpose. Trust was for children and dogs, wasn’t that how he’d put it to Mobius during their first meeting? As long as he stayed here, keeping himself isolated and protected, then he couldn’t ever be tricked into being someone else’s attack dog ever again. He couldn’t ever hurt anyone again.

Besides, it was highly implausible that her life would end in any way other than tragically. Loki’d already had quite enough of that - and would it be worth getting close to her, even if it didn’t?

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

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tarkalean-trekkie · 7 months

Text

Hold on (Rewrite)

Spock x Reader

Word count ~1,700

Author note: this is a complete rewrite of a story that I started before the tornado 2 years ago. I finally took time to rewrite it! I decided to go ahead and make this one big part instead of multiple small parts, considering each little part was less than a thousand words. I hope you enjoy this, it’s dear to my heart since it’s one of my first post tornado rewrites.

Spock and reader are on an away mission, when the battery drains in their devices. After surviving a brutally cold night, Spock has a confession to make to y/n. Mild danger, with some fluff at the end.

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My hands crack from gathering berries and firewood all day. Fearing that the Enterprise would not find me before nightfall, I begin making preparations for how I will survive the night in this frigid weather. After sitting down at the campfire near the cave entrance, I hear footsteps approach. Just as I am about to grab my phaser, a familiar voice calls out.

“It would be illogical to cause harm to someone who is offering to help,” the voice says.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Mr. Spock, I’ve never been so glad to see you.”

Spock nods, “it is fortunate that you are unharmed. Unfortunately, we will be stuck here for the night; the power from my tricorder has been drained.”

I check my phaser. “The power from my phaser has been drained as well.”

Spock glances at my hands in surprise. “You are injured, let me inspect your hands.”

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” I fib, sitting on a rock beside him.

“I fear that you are in the beginning stages of frostbite. May I bandage your hands for you? It will not be much help to the current damage, but it could help to prevent further damage.” he replies, with an expression that would be blank to most, but I could see the slightest bit of concern.

“Oh, um, sure…” I stutter, trying to hide a blush, I had a small idea of what hand touching met to Vulcans. I gain composure and remind myself that this is strictly for medical reasoning, plus it would be illogical for my fellow, stone faced officer to make a move on me.

Spock grabs a salve and some wrap from his bag, and hands the salve for me. “You rub the salve over the frostbite, and I shall wrap them for you.”

I had to hold back a chuckle, thinking of how sensual it would be if he had to rub to salve on my hands himself. But also, would it be sensual if he saw me rubbing the salve on my hands.

“I don’t believe frostbite is very amusing Lieutenant Y/L/N,” Spock states. Perhaps my grin was a little too noticeable.

“Oh, sorry,” I state grabbing the salve, and starting to rub it on my hands (non sensually). “I was just remembering a previous conversation to distract me from the pain.”

Moments later, after I have made sure to medicate every inch of the frostbite, I hand the salve back to Spock.

“May I wrap your hands now?” he asks. I nod in response. He unravels the wrap, and lightly, grasps my wrist. “Please hold this end for me.”

I grab the end of the wrap with my thumb, and watch as he secures it, while being careful to not directly touch my hand. He then moves to the other hand, again being careful to not make any necessary hand contact.

“It is primitive, but it should suffice for now,” he states.

“Thanks,” I reply, gazing at my hands. “It’s going to be nightfall soon, do you think we should gather more firewood?”

“That will not be necessary. You do not need to further injury, and we must conserve our energy if we have any chance of survival.” Spock replies, sternly.

“What are the odds that the Enterprise finds us before we freeze to death?” I ask, realizing how dire our situation has become.

“I believe the odds are astronomical. Given how the temperature plummets after sunset, we will be lucky to survive the night,” he replies grimly.

I raise an eyebrow. “I thought that Vulcans didn’t believe in luck.”

“I don’t, however, you do. I suppose you are, as you humans say, ‘rubbing off on me,” he states.

“Seems logical to me,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

Spock looks around the cave for a moment. “You wouldn’t by chance have a thermal blanket in your bag? The blanket plus the amount of wood we have for the fire, could potentially be enough for our survival.”

I rummage through my bag for a moment. “I’ve got it,” I finally say, pulling the thermal blanket out. “Do you really think it will be enough?”

“Affirmative, however, for the best efficiency, we will have to sleep close to each other and share body heat,” he replies.

I turn my head to hide a blush. “If that is our best chance of survival, then I don’t have a complaint.”

We add wood to the fire, graze sparingly on the berries, and attempt to settle into sleep.

————————————-

When I awaken, I am hit with a burst of cold air, causing me to shiver violently. Something tightens its grip on me, and I soon notice that it is Spock holding onto me. I also notice that our fire has nearly been extinguished.

“Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, gazing down at me.

I shake my head. “I-I don’t know, everything f-feels cold.” My body trembles more.

He tightens his grip on me. “I am afraid that both of our body temperatures are dropping rapidly. If we do not restart the fire soon, we may surely die.” He moves to restart the fire.

“S-Spock, you’re Vulcan, you’ll freeze to death!” I cry out.

“And if I do nothing, we shall both perish, and that is not a risk that I am willing to take.” Spock removes himself from the thermal blanket, ensuring that I am still covered.

“Spock, p-please,” I barely speak.

“Y/N, please spare your strength, and don’t argue, logic dictates that I at least attempt to save us, or at least you.” An ember grows as he adds firewood, and as the light grows, I notice him begin to shake. Despite being stronger, I know Vulcans have lower cold tolerance.

My own shivers silence me, and I silently pray that he can build the fire back before freezing to death.

Warmth and fire light grow ever so slightly, and Spock manages to get the fire going, and make it back to the blanket. I wrap the blanket around us both, and he once again, wraps his arms around me.

“It may take some time for our body temperatures to regulate, but I believe the fire will last the rest of the night. Please hold on to me to stay warm,” he states.

“A-are we going to d-die?” I ask in fear.

Spock looks into my eyes. “Ashayem, I need you to listen to me. I need you to hold on to me. We will keep each other warm.”

I tremble. “It’s so cold. I don’t want to die.”

“Y/n, I promise you that everything will be alright. Do not let go, there are only a couple hours of night left. I assure you that we will survive the night, please hold on,” concern growing in his voice.

I nuzzle closer to him, hearing his heart beat rapidly in his side. “Mr. Spock, please distract me from the cold,” I barely whisper.

“And how shall I do that?” he asks.

“Tell me something sciencey, preferably about the stars. Which ones shine brightest?” I ask.

He begins to ramble about the structure of the Milky Way, the life cycle of stars, spilling facts left and right, until his voice lulls me back to sleep.

—————————

I awaken to a beam of sunlight shining in my eye, and notice that I am no longer freezing.

Spock nudges me, “Y/n, are you awake?”

I shift to where I am no longer pressed against Spock. “We’re alive?” I ask.

“Affirmative, did I not promise you that we would survive?” he states.

I stand up, and walk to the cave entrance, sitting on a rock. The sun warms my skin, and I welcome it, gazing at the flora or this strange planet. Soon, the rock shifts, and Spock sits beside me.

I pull my legs up to my face, and rest my chin on my knees. “It sure is a beautiful planet in the daylight.”

“Not quite so beautiful as you though,” he states.

“Huh?” I gaze at him in confusion, and he looks back with the slightest smile. My heart pounds in my chest. “Y-you think I’m beautiful?”

“To me, you are the most beautiful creature in this universe,” he replies.

I press my hand to his forehead. “I think the cold made you sick, sir.”

He shakes his head, and lightly chuckles. “I assure you my health is perfectly fine.”

“So then why are you calling me beautiful?” I ask.

“Y/n, I have always found you beautiful. We were dangerously close to death last night, and I am not prepared to die without expressing how I feel about you,” he explains.

“Spock I… I don’t know what to say,” I stutter. “But I feel just the same. I’ve always admired you, your wit, your vast knowledge of things, and um… the ears.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You like my ears? Fascinating.”

“More than the ears, I think you are quite attractive,” I state, heart still pounding.

I gaze back an forth between his eyes and his lips, and he leans into me. I breach the gap, and press my lips to his. He takes little effort to lift me onto his lap.

He breaks the kiss, and looks into my eyes. “Ashayem, you are so beautiful.”

“Ashayem, means “my love” doesn’t it?” I ask.

“Yes, it does,” he replies.

“But you are Vulcan. Do you feel love?” I ask.

“I may not express it, but I guarantee you that I feel it. You must not have any doubt that I can love. I can find you beautiful, and I can love you,” he gazes at me with his beautiful brown eyes.

“I-I love you too, T’hy’la,” I reply.

His eyes widen slightly. “You have been studying about Vulcan?”

I nod my head. He smiles, and kisses me once more, this time with a little more passion.

“Kirk to Spock can you read me?” Spock’s tricorder speaks.

“Spock to Kirk, I hear you loud and clear,” he replies.

“Do you have Y/n with you?,” Captain Kirk asks.

Spock seats me back on the rock, stands and helps me stand. He lightly kisses the side of my head before replying, “Affirmative Captain, two to beam up.”

Once we made it back to the Enterprise, Spock was adamant that I get my frostbite checked out in medical, while still Trying not to seem suspiciously overprotective. I had a feeling that it would not be long until Doctor McCoy fished all the details out of me

#star trek #mr spock #spock #spock tos #spock x reader #mr. spock #st: tos #star trek fanfiction #Mr Spock x reader #Spock fanfic #leonard nimoy spock

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borahaerhy · 1 year

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Dealer (9) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: Taehyung's high (shocker), the safe-house is a little different than the last one, Y/n decides she wants to be a part of decisions, Yoongi isn't the biggest fan of this but gets over it, a very risky plan, Y/n is very calm in what seems to be a very dangerous situation, someone gets stabbed, very abrupt ending

Word count: 2.7k

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Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self-harm, and has self-harm scars. This fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

Not long after Jimin and Yoongi’s argument, Jungkook came back with clothes for everyone. You all took turns taking showers and getting changed before you were rushed back out and into the backseat of the cramped car, where you spent the next several hours.

Oddly enough, the energy was a lot less tense than the last time, even after the argument. You all took turns telling stories and talking about just about anything you could think of. You even saw Jungkook crack a smile at one point, even as he stayed quiet during most of the ride.

It was dark outside by the time Jungkook pulled into what you assumed to be the getaway house; which was not at all what you had been expecting. It was a smaller house in a neighborhood much like the one you used to live in. It was a little run down, the paint chipping and the front steps cracked: the surrounding homes didn’t look much nicer.

It wasn’t hidden away in a forest, nor did it have a million underground mazes (or so you hoped), but that’s exactly why it worked; who the hell would expect Kim Seokjin to be hidden away here of all places?

Jungkook pulled into the driveway as you and Jimin put your masks on from the last time you’d left the car, but Jungkook stopped you. “Don’t; those will make you stick out around here, especially at this time of night. Just keep your heads down and walk quickly,” You shrugged, not at all mad to not have to wear that thing again as you balled it up and shoved it into your pocket.

Jungkook knocked on the door a few times – an odd rhythm that you thought had to be a code of some kind – before the door was opened, Hoseok only peeking out slightly to see who it was before ripping the door open, relieved to see you guys.

“Oh thank god you’re here, these guys are insane–” Hoseok ushered you all inside, hugging you briefly as he closed the door. The room was very dark, the light was dim and yellow, casting more shadows than it managed to get rid of.

The inside didn’t look much different than the outside; water stains on the ceiling from previous leaks, mismatched furniture that had been worn in, as if someone had been using it for the previous 40 years. The carpeting was frayed and worn down in certain spots, and the walls had been yellowed from years of cigarette smoke – something you could smell as soon as you walked through the door.

Everyone was waiting in the living room, Namjoon and Jin stood at the side of the room, a few feet away from the plastic folding table that was centered in the dining room, and Taehyung was seated in a large recliner with his legs crossed, eyes so narrow that you had no doubt that even here and now, with everything going on, Taehyung was as high as he was the day you met him.

“Everything go smoothly?” Jin asked, a radiant smile spreading across his face as he questioned Jungkook, who simply nodded once in response. “Great, Y/n, why don’t you head back and get some rest-”

“No,” He seemed a little taken back when you interrupted him, though oddly enough, he seemed more intrigued than offended.

“Y/n, we need to talk about the plan from here, you should really-”

“Yeah, that sounds great and all, but whatever you guys are going to be talking about, I want to be a part of it. Regardless of what you say,” You paused, looking at Yoongi before you switched your attention to everyone in the room. “What any of you say, this is all happening because of me; to protect me, right? So whatever you’re planning, I want to know about it, and I want to help.”

Everyone was looking at you warrily, their eyes darting back and forth between you and Jin to see what his reaction would be.

Well, everyone except for Taehyung, who had a smile very similar to Jin’s.

“If you’re confident that you’re up for it, then I have no problem letting you in on these meetings. Might help to have some of your input,” He smirked as he spoke, seeming almost proud, before he resumed his serious expression that he had when you’d arrived.

“Okay, everyone get comfortable, we have a lot to discuss,” you all moved over to the sofas, where there definitely wasn’t enough space for all of you as you found yourself sandwiched between Jimin and Yoongi, who at this point were almost fighting who was going to be more protective of you. “Y/n, now that you’re here, I have something I want to run by you, actually.

“I was discussing this with Namjoon before you got here, but I think it would be a good idea to test the waters a bit,” Jin leaned back against the wall where you’d imagine a tv would be, but it instead remained blank, a crooked picture frame with people you didn’t know in it sat a few inches from Jin’s head.

“What do you mean, test the waters?” Yoongi was quick to ask, his arms crossed over his chest with his brow furrowed.

“I want to send a few of us out in public. We scope out a place, make sure everything looks safe and not too crowded. And I want Y/n to be there-”

“Absolutely not,” Yoongi spoke up, but Jin merely brushed past his comment, not paying it much attention.

“I just want to see just how many of them there are, and how they’d go about getting her back if they find an opportunity,” Jin looked over at Jimin, as if asking him what he thought.

“I know Zeke’s going crazy trying to get her back, and I know my father is doing everything in his power to do it; which is frankly, a lot more than we have sitting in this room, purely based off of the amount of men he has at his disposal,”

“But he’s already proven that he’ll send more people rather than relying on good ones; and I trust Jungkook alone can take down more than half of the guys he sends us if it’s more of the one’s from the other night,” Jimin simply nods in agreement. While his father was smart, he was also stubborn. He was convinced he didn’t need to send any of his high-profile men to get you back, so he wouldn’t. Jimin was the only one he needed to send of that rank, and as far as he was concerned, his father probably thought Jimin had infiltrated the group and was working on bringing you back from the inside.

“Guys, I really don’t think this is a good idea-”

“I do,” You spoke, your words loud and proud as you defied Yoongi. You knew he was only trying to protect you, but you didn’t need it to this extent. “If we’re going to take them down, or at least get them to stop coming after me, we need to know what we’re up against; and I’m the only way we’re going to do that,”

Yoongi had turned in his spot to face you. He desperately wanted to find a reason to tell you that you shouldn’t do this but he couldn’t; not one that you’d listen to anyway.

“Yoongi, I wouldn’t send her unless I was absolutely positive she would be fine. Namjoon and Jungkook would be going with her, they’ll make sure she’s okay; they’re better trained than I am. Nothing’s going to happen to her, you have my word,” There was a silence before Yoongi sighed, running his fingers through his disheveled hair before he nodded slowly.

“Fine,” he spoke softly, his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. “But I’m going too,”

You woke up the next day and felt excited for the first time in god knows how long. It was an odd sort of feeling, and one Yoongi definitely didn’t share. There was finally a plan, and one you were a part of. You knew what was going on, you understood the consequences, and you actually got to do something rather than just sit and wait for things to happen around you.

Yoongi was less thrilled; the ball of nerves that had been stuck in his throat since last night made it difficult for him to speak much as you all got ready.

“Okay, let’s go over it one more time,” Seokjin started as everyone got their microphones set in place, assisted by Namjoon and shockingly, Taehyung, who knew a lot more about spy tech than anyone that had met him would have anticipated. “Namjoon’s going to go into the coffee shop fifteen minutes before Y/n, order a coffee and sit down in the back corner and pull out his laptop and pretend to work on something.

“Then Y/n’s going in, ordering, and sitting at this table, here in the middle, where Namjoon is going to have a direct line of sight of her the whole time,” Jin was gesturing toward a blueprint of the shop you were going to that he had taped to the wall. “Jungkook and Yoongi are going to be waiting in the car, and you are only to leave if Namjoon says he needs the back up, now,” Jin pointed to Namjoon as Jungkook and Yoongi continued attaching various weapons to their outfits.

“Namjoon’s glasses have cameras here,” he pointed to either side of where the arms connected to the frames, “And here,” he pointed to the center of the frames, right between his eyes.

“Right, and all of that is going to be sent to this laptop, where Jimin will help us identify anyone that might be one of his father’s men,” Namjoon continued for Jin as Jimin flashed a nervous thumbs up. “And Y/n, if you get too freaked out or need to get out, just say that your drink’s cold. Namjoon can hear your microphone in his earpiece and will get you out,”

“Will we be able to hear her?” Yoongi asked as Jungkook started loading the magazine of an AR-15.

“No, you can hear Namjoon, and Namjoon will be able to hear all of you, because frankly, I don’t want the mission ruined because you heard Y/n breath wrong,” A blush slowly began to make it’s way up to your cheeks as Yoongi sulked, dropping his shoulders as Taehyung handed him an ear piece.

A few final questions were answered and finishing touches were added to everyone's outfit ensembles, and the four of you were off.

You and Yoongi were in the back as Namjoon drove, and you were pumped full of so much adrenaline that the possibility of something going wrong hadn’t even crossed your mind. You sat calmly in your inconspicuous outfit and stared out the window as Yoongi’s eyes remained glued to you.

He had no idea how or why you seemed so calm when he was freaking out. This was fool-proof, even Jin said so, but all the worst case scenarios kept running through his mind, and in all of them, you were hurt, dead, or gone.

You noticed his eyes on you and turned to him. He kept looking at you, his nervousness reading loudly across his features. You smiled softly as you reached out to grab one of his hands, holding it softly between yours. “Don’t worry,” You whispered. “I’ll be okay, that’s why you have all those weapons,” You smiled, causing him to chuckle lightly.

“We’re here,” Namjoon spoke lightly as he pulled into a parking space and shut off the car. “Remember Y/n, fifteen minutes, then follow me in. Got it?” You nodded as he smiled back at you; both of you. “All right, go time,” He opened his door and got out, before entering the coffee shop.

In your earpiece, you hear him order his drink and sit down. He sits where he’s supposed to, in the booth in the back corner, where he pulls a laptop out of his bag and waits for them to bring him his drink. He continues looking around as inconspicuous as he can as he loads up a game of chess on his computer.

He mumbles a few things here and there, alerting the guys back at the house to anything or anyone that he found to be even somewhat suspicious. Right at the fifteen minute mark, he spoke again.

“Your move,”

You gave Yoongi’s hand another light squeeze before you got out of the car yourself, and entered the shop.

It was a nice little place, you were scared to see what would happen to it if Jeff’s men really were here. You ordered your usual and went to wait at the table you were supposed to, before you pulled out a book.

Your job was easy: sit here and read a good book and drink some good coffee. If anything happened, it was up to the others to step in and do something if anything happened.

Namjoon had stopped talking for the most part, already having scoped the place out prior to you entering, but he still noted the occasional person as they entered. You mostly ignored him, the book you were reading was far too good to not be paying any attention to it, anyway.

But while you mindlessly sipped your coffee, Namjoon made note of three men he found to be suspicious that entered the shop after you. Jimin almost couldn’t believe his eyes as he saw them. While he didn’t immediately recognize any of them, he definitely recognized their form of communicating with one another.

One flicked the newspaper they were reading twice, and another set their cup down with a stutter in response. The third flicked the side of his glasses once. “They all just confirmed to each other that it’s her,” Jimin spoke, his voice soft but urgent. “Glasses is going to stand up and approach her, but they’re not going to do anything in there; it’s too crowded,”

“Am I stepping in?,” Namjoon mumbles as the man wearing the glasses stands as if on cue.

“He might say something to her we can use, unless she says she needs out, wait,” Jin speaks this time, having full confidence in you.

“Excuse me?” You look up from your book to see a man standing across your table, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes seemed to scan your features. “I’m sorry, you just look really familiar, do I know you from somewhere?”

Another two men walked into the shop, two men Jimin had recognized.

“Namjoon, you need to get her out of there now, two men just entered that are heavily armed and could wipe out that entire shop in a matter of seconds,” Namjoon stiffened before sitting up slightly.

“Then I’m going to need that distraction like ten seconds ago,” Jin remotely set off the buildings’ fire alarm. Namjoon quickly stood and stayed low to the ground, moving over to you as fast as he could.

As soon as the alarm sounded, the man that was being so polite seconds ago was on you. He stepped behind you and pulled you out of your chair, one hand around your mouth as the other moved to pin your arms down as he kicked your chair out of the way, but Namjoon was faster.

He groaned loudly and fell to his knees, letting go of you in the process while Namjoon grabbed hold of you and pulled you toward the kitchens. You looked back seconds before you entered the back room to see a knife sticking out of the leg of the man who grabbed you, two other men crowded around him.

Everyone was running around frantically, but even then, the two men Jimin recognized still had sight of you.

You rushed back through the kitchens and out the back door, where the car was already sitting, Jungkook having moved it around when he heard they started the distraction. Namjoon rushed you into the backseat before he got in the driver's seat and sped out of there.

Note: I'M SORRY FOR THE VERY ABRUPT ENDING BUT I'll have u know that I wrote chapters 9 and 10 and the same time not realizing how long it got and while I'd love for it to all be one chapter, none of the dealer chapters have been longer than like 3k and all together it's like 5 and a half k sooooo it's two chapters now I'm sorry ily

Taglist: @pamzn @fvcuidk @cybm1n @limiworld @scuzmunkie @hyunjingin @nellyboosworld @giselleg7784 @zaeve @lovelgirl22 @rosquilleta @kooliv @bangtannie7 @strawberryjimin13 @anjoellamorte @limitlessdespondency @lalaoise @roxy1205 @lavender-ivy @orangecarrotlemon @billy-jeans23 @jwlmnbt @artemis1862 @luaspersona @wittyreader @be0mluver @acquiescence804 @dustyinkpages @namjoonsbuspass @damiiworld @cynicalbitch666 @rosiejunnie @dahliasbouqet @bxcndd @neverthefirstchoice @kisuga

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littleholmes · 10 months

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from busted, slashed, and bloody to clean and healed in one move after using reverse cursed technique to heal his cursed technique and then attack Sukuna—

That wasn’t easy, indeed. Gojo cut that way too close for comfort but that was a WILD display of just how quickly Satoru can shift gears and prioritize his energy in a fight, but also what he’s improved since he was a teen and fought Toji.

I’d hoped he’d heal from that cliff hanger attack since he’s always had reverse cursed running Post-Toji incident, and he did—which is a relief (as I said before, you never know when Gege will decide to take someone). But that last attack, and really this whole chapter, I was reminded of that convo in 76 when Satoru used those Toji fights to learn where he needed to improve and shifted his energy.

Having Limitless and Reverse Cursed running uses up a ton of energy but it also keeps him safe from the constant attacks he’s been under since he was a baby because he’s the Six Eyes. It also means he’s always thinking with a fresh brain, so, as chaotic as he is sometimes, he’s sharp and that translates to his quick thought when he’s in battle.

We saw that this chapter when he shifted his technique from healing himself physically to healing his technique (yo, I heard you like techniques so I…)

Yuta noticed what he was doing after everyone started to get highly concerned that Gojo was taking blow after strike from Sukuna with no healing in between and it looked like he’s going to lose and die.

But Gojo isn’t the type to just take it, and he didn’t. That final blow of using Red at point blank range to send Sukuna flying into his Shrine was an excellent show of how Gojo started working post-Toji incident to improve and prioritize how he can keep himself safe and fight better—and whew Satoru Gojo really did put in that work.

In the panel grab above from 76, teen Gojo said he wanted to work on teleporting further, and now adult Gojo can go far in, like, less than a blink-level fast.

He wanted to work on using less energy with Limitless—and he has, it’s constantly running but takes like no energy. And he wanted Reverse running always and he pretty much has ever since Toji practically killed him.

He also wanted to work on activating Red and Blue, and as adult he can and does, which we’ve seen before with Hollow Purple and his use of Red and Blue individually. We saw this very clearly here in 226.

He already perfected his goal to ‘minimize hand signs’ at the time and we saw that in this chapter and a few times in previous ones.

Gojo has thoroughly progressed, and now in this chapter, we see him bring it all together to ensure his survival with Sukuna’s domain and technique overpowering his.

He took a significant blow physically and healed that with Reverse but then between his depleting energy and technique and his physical damage and opening a simple domain, he’s used up so much he had to make the choice to shift Reverse from healing himself physically to healing his technique while taking a bunch of hits and damage from Sukuna. Then once his technique was healed enough he used his speed, probably teleporting, to get close to Sukuna at just the right moment to use Red so he could heal physically and send Sukuna flying in one move.

He effectively prioritized in a way that none of the students and friends saw coming.

He used everything he improved upon over the years since the Toji fights and managed to make it out of another close call (albeit this one closer than most).

idk I’m rambling but this chapter was amazing, I loved all the speculation from all the characters, but I enjoyed seeing this part of the fight and seeing that progression in Gojo from 76 to now. (And also I’m gonna tag my friend @theanimepsychologist here because these last few chapters have been so incredible I’m sure I’ve missed something)

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eepyuii · 4 months

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frostbite — pt. 7

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none

notes ; happy new year!! it’s story quest time which meaaans- its teucer town. a lot of the reader and teucer being besties and *some* tiny particles of romantic feelings (if u catch them). also just a really lighthearted and humorous chapter :3

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three knocks.

“sergeant?”

“hm? yes, ekaterina? come in.”

the secretary steps up to your desk, where you sit pitifully, head resting on your hands. it’s been some months since osial’s attack and you’ve mysteriously remained stationed at liyue, not that you mind, of course. the traveler and paimon have long since been on their way to inazuma and, according to news you heard from all around, seem like they successfully solved the crises surrounding the electro archon and the vision hunt decree. not only has there been word on the streets of their feats but you’ve also noticed a noticeable increase in inazuman immigrants by the harbor.

but- back to the matter at hand, today you find yourself incredibly more fatigued than usual, perhaps due to your struggles with getting even a good wink of sleep the night before. the sunlight creeping through the windows seems to sting your eyes harsher than normal for early morning but you still try your best to open them and read the letter ekaterina has just placed in front of you.

noticing the strain in your efforts to, well, be awake at the moment, ekaterina clears her throat.

“it’s a mandate from the doctor himself.”

now that gets you up, though not in a good way. the sheer reminder of that man’s existence is enough to shoot an icy burn into your spine, one that makes you flinch into full consciousness.

skimming more effectively through the lines, you find that the mandate talks about a ruin guard research lab here in liyue under his guise, obviously, that he is requiring you to briefly oversee in his absence. not as bad as you thought but also not entirely good. the doctor has never presently explained his affinity for ruin guard robotics to you- because truly, why would he? but it’s no less than apparent how big his interest in them is, in your experience.

with a long, heavy sigh, you nod.

“i see. thank you, ekaterina, you may go.”

she bows politely and turns to leave while you reread the letter to gather the full details of the research lab. once ekaterina is by the door to your office, you take note of the sound of as her heels stop abruptly as she yelps in surprise, muttering a small ‘hello, master childe’ and carrying on her way. the next moment, they very devil she spoke of is bursting into the room.

“good morning, doc!” he chirps with surprising energy for how early it is and places a closed cup on your desk.

“here! i got you some coffee, thought it might help wake you up.”

“thanks a lot… wait, how did you know i was tired-“

“and with that act of courtesy, i would like to propose my own favor to be granted by yours truly. and that is for us to sp-“

“childe, i cannot spar with you today.”

with that, the harbinger slumps into himself like a fussing child, ironic, and groans softly. he’s about to try his very persuasive best to convince you anyway when he spots the letter in your hands and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“what’s that?”

you sigh again, pinching the bridge of your nose. “a mandate from dottore asking me to check up on one of his ruin guard research facilities, here in liyue.”

childe seems to empathize with your disdain for the request and scoffs, mumbling about ‘that lunatic and his little toy robots…’.

“hm, well i wish you luck with that. i’ve also got myself some less than stellar debts to collect today, might as well busy myself somehow even if ekaterina thinks i shouldn’t.”

“good luck with that too.”

childe turns to leave, slightly less chipper than he was when he walked in, until he stops by the door to turn around. “you’re still owing me a spar for that coffee!”

“whatever!”

grassy mountains, building ruins, ginkgo trees- minlin was just like any other area of liyue, though you’d never steal any merit from the relaxing scenery of the entire region. every new place you visited took your breath away with its beauty all the same.

it’s become an unspoken habit to deal with ruin guards at this point and you knew their patterned behaviors and limits like no other, maybe only the doctor himself. several of them sat inactivated in the ruins around you, as expected, and you took note of each one for your report diligently. as you’re approaching the entrance of the lab itself, you spot another ruin guard sat against a crumbled tower- except it was not the only thing there, there were people too. it’s not hard to decipher that it turns out to be the traveler and paimon and… someone else.

wait… surely it’s not him.

“teucer?”

all three of them immediately turn around, except teucer lights up at the sight of you and jumps from his crouching position to run at you with full speed. despite being perplexed at his presence, you still kneel to welcome him with open arms.

“big sibling y/n!! you’re here!!” he yells out, elated.

you chuckle fondly and stand up with teucer clung onto your torso.

“it’s good to see you too, teuce’, but… what in the heavens are you doing all the way here?”

looking over teucer’s shoulder, you turn to the other two, who look just as confused about the entire situation as you do.

“and you two as well, weren’t you supposed to be in inazuma still?”

“mm-yeah, we were taking a bit of a break! we’re on our way to sumeru next and liyue’s the shortest way there so… might as well take some leisurely time off.”

paimon elaborates, until she and the traveler share a look and the two of them sigh.

“unfortunately, the millelith asked us to check out these rui- ahem, i mean mr. cyclops showing up around this area. and as we were doing that, we ran into teucer over here!”

you breathe out a laugh, pitying the pair’s lack of… well- time to take a break without any tasks given to them. ‘talk about leisurely…’ you mutter, quiet enough so teucer doesn’t hear. speaking of him…

“that still doesn’t explain how you were here at all, mister.” you poke the boy’s side with the hand that isn’t holding him up against you and he giggles uncontrollably, attempting to dodge your finger.

“ahahahahah! s-stop! hahah… i’m here to see big brother at the institute for toy research! you work there too, right?”

what.

oh- is that what he thinks childe does? dear gods, that’s too funny. however you do understand why childe would lie about your jobs, you think you’d do much the same. still it takes everything within you to not burst out laughing at the revelation, even the traveler seems to notice so, somewhat understanding the reason but also somewhat not. you huff out a breath to calm the urge to cackle and turn to the two once again.

“listen, you guys don’t need to worry about this one anymore, i’ll take care of him. oh! and don’t worry about the- err, mr cyclops replicas, i’ll sort them out too. go take your break, you deserve it.”

“but- they’re my friends! they like toys like i do! a-and they made the pinky promise!” teucer retaliates.

gods damn the snezhnayan pinky swear.

“plus, he did give us this big bag of mora to take care of him…” paimon eyes the traveler, who returns the glance with a nod as if they’re silently communicating.

“and yeah- we’d much rather go see this ‘toy institute’ than deal with mr. cyclops right now.”

you nod in agreement and gesture for all of you to head back to the harbor, partially to avoid seeing the millelith soldiers patrolling the area.

“so- just out of curiosity, teuce’, what exactly did your brother say about me working with toys?”

“he said you’re a toy doctor! you take care of the toys who get hurt or sick.”

“yeah, that checks out.”

—

arriving back at northland bank, the first thing you spot is childe and ekaterina discussing something at the center of the room, oblivious to your presence for the moment. that is, until teucer bursts from your tired arms to run to his older brother.

paimon, somehow, remains oblivious enough to what is right in front of her enough to whisper. “huh? what’s he doing here…”

“yay, my brother! i found you!” exclaims teucer and childe immediately perks up, ceasing any doubts that paimon might’ve had.

“i know that voice… why, if it isn’t my little brother teucer! my goodness!”

the harbinger takes his younger brother into his arms, much like you did before, except he wraps him in a nearly bone crushing hug before setting him back down.

“haha.. what a nice surprise, teucer! i thought i would have to wait till i return home before seeing you again. how are the others, tonia and anthon? is everybody keeping well?”

“they miss you a lot! tonia prays for you every day at dinner.” it seems that only after teucer’s response is when the realization of the sheer absurdity that is teucer’s presence sets within childe, his face morphing into confusion.

“wait a second… what are you doing here in liyue, teucer? how have i not heard anything about this?”

that entire interaction, you remained merely watching from behind with an irrepressible fond smile on your face- you were so lost in their reunion that you almost miss the incredulous glare childe throws to you, like he’s silently asking if you had anything to do with this. you jump slightly once noticing it and quickly shrug, shaking your head to signify that you’re just as clueless as him.

“well, what happened was- i saw a boat that looked like it was selling toys, so obviously i thought you were on board. and then when i got off i just kept walking and walking… and then, i found a mr. cyclops!”

unbelievable.

“mr cyclops scared off a bad guy, and then i found this nice lady and-and then y/n found us! so we came looking for you.”

childe seems to have another moment of realization, where another fleeting glance comes your way and he sighs, facing off to the side to mouth to himself ‘of course, the research lab…’.

“teucer…” he starts off and you seem to understand what he’s about to say right away, leaving teucer’s side to be right in front of him, beside childe. you kneel to teucer’s height and hold out your hands for him to hold, to make him feel less like he’s being scolded. his tiny hands are dwarfed by yours in a way that makes your heart swell.

“…teuce’, what you did was really dangerous. we’re both happy to see you, really, but please promise you won’t do anything like this ever again.”

childe nods in agreement and teucer sighs, letting go of your hands to put them behind his back sheepishly.

“okay, i promise… please don’t be mad at me.”

“we’re not mad at you. we just care about your safety, that’s all.” childe reassures.

“if you hadn’t met these nice people, and even more if y/n hadn’t found you, things could’ve been a lot more dangerous for you, teucer. i hope you said a big thank-you to all of them?”

“yep! i always remember my please’s and thank-you’s!

“oohh so you did notice we were here… you were just ignoring us, gotcha.” paimon adds sarcastically as she and the traveler look at childe through a sassy glare.

“haha… forgive me, it’s always family first where i’m from. don’t take it personally. i know we’ve had our differences up to now but.. a few minor quibbles aside, we get on quite well, don’t you think?”

the traveler’s incredulous reaction tells you that perhaps teucer shouldn’t listen to the conversation while they sort out their, erm, quibbles- so you gently take him by the hand and lead him off ever so slightly to the side, where you know he’ll be at least distracted enough to not listen. kneeling down, you once again take his impossibly adorable hands into yours and fiddle with them playfully, he only grins in oblivious amusement.

“so, teuce’, tell me more- how’re things back home? you’re not too bored without us there, are you?”

“mm-no, i’m just fine! anthon still plays with me a bunch and tonia always reads me the letters big brother sends us, she always tells such cool stories!”

“yeah? like what?”

the young boy thinks for a moment, rubbing his chin like he’s mentally paging through the deepest, most riveting tales he can recall.

“hmm.. oh! one time she told me the story of how big brother discovered a new version of mr. cyclops! he’s bigger and.. and stronger and he’s got huge horns, like a deer! he’s like mr. cyclops' big brother.”

well, at least childe is keeping his lies somewhat accurate. but the way teucer beams and hops excitedly as he talks about the bigger mr. cyclops, or a ruin grader as you know it, seems to justify keeping him in the dark. the way his big blue eyes shine with wonder is in itself a treasure worth protecting. you’ve practically long forgotten that you’re supposed to be stalling out a conversation to distract him.

“that’s so awesome, teucer!” you grin back at him. “what other stories does your brother tell?”

“hm..- oh yeah! he also talks about you in his letters.”

oh?

“does he?” you’re unsure if you should feel good or bad about the revelation, gods know what childe says to his siblings about you.

“yeah he does! he talks about how you take such good care of the toys when they get hurt and how smart you are and how…”

suddenly, teucer trails off as he turns to the trio still conversing near you, like he’s heard something that’s caught his attention. he entirely abandons the sentence he’d left unfinished to join their side again and you find yourself feeling the smidgenmost bit disappointed that he didn’t finish speaking. you only sigh to yourself and smooth your clothes down from the crouching position you were in, joining back in as well.

“that’s right, my brother’s the greatest! he’s mr. cyclops’ bestest friend!”

childe chuckles in somewhat faux delight, to satisfy teucer and make it seem like he approves of his brother’s message, before leaning over to the traveler and whisper, as you hear it,- ‘just humor me in front of teucer, if you’d be so kind…’

“ahem- ah yes! ekaterina, i will deal with the issue of the outstanding payment right away.”

“hey! slinking off, are we?” paimon accuses.

“but, master childe, would it not be improper to ask you to deal with… debt collection?”

“a bet is a bet, isn’t it? and if you lose a bet with an agent.. well, you might as well get some exercise out of it.”

“are you going off to sell toys now?” teucer interjects, partially with admiration for his brother and partially with disappointment that he has to leave.

“that’s right. as much as i’d like to catch up a little longer, teucer, duty calls! i’m sure y/n and ms. nice lady will keep you company while i’m out, though.”

childe implies with a pleading glance thrown to you and the traveler. you nod gladly while the traveler puts her hand to her forehead momentarily and paimon mumbles a complaint about having to babysit for childe.

“sure!” teucer confirms as well. “i really like y/n and this lady already! and anyway, the nice lady made a pinky promise to take good care of me.”

the harbinger ends up leaving the four of you with a hefty bag of mora to spend out in the city while he’s working and you firstly decide to take him to an elderly lady’s kite shop. she patiently explains how to use the kites and teucer asks for a mr. cyclops shaped kite, because why wouldn’t he- you manage to convince the lady to make a custom build for it with a shining pile of mora. next, you take him to wanmin restaurant, where chef mao graciously offers to make a special dish for teucer, who can’t eat spicy food. you don’t blame him, personally- snezhnayan dishes tend to steer away from spice specifically and lean more towards warm, filling meals to endure the cold temperatures. however, the food teucer asks for turns out sickeningly sweet and even paimon, the awarded food enthusiast, feels nauseated at the end. finally, he asks you to give the wharf a better look than when he was stepping off his boat. paimon proceeds to give a mouthful of an explanation about liyue’s trade port, which ends up too confusing for teucer to even care. instead, his attention is caught by a ship anchor left in the wharf.

“teucer, don’t run off!” you urge as he takes off to see the anchor.

“that metal hook is huge! and it gets bigger the closer we get!”

“this is an anchor. docked ships use it to hold themselves in position, to stop wind and waves from blowing them away.” paimon explains.

“hmm, an anchor… got it. but i think i might get it mixed up with commodore hook.”

“commodore hook..? is that another one of your weird toy names?”

“my brother always sends me a really big toy for my birthday- commodore hook, blacksteel jack, iron tony… we keep them all in your backyard!”

“are they as big as the anchor?” the traveler asks.

“yeah, and that’s why i can’t bring them with me all the time. it’s a shame…”

you choke on your breath at a realization. “i-is that what your father was keeping under a tarp in the backyard..?”

teucer nods cluelessly. you’ve seen tarped objects behind childe’s family house that had some absurd silhouettes hidden by the protective fabric and the snow, but you’ve only ever assumed they were left over building materials- not gigantic fucking robots because why would you ever assume that’s what he’d send a child for his birthday. you’ll have to have a talk with him about gift giving at a later time.

“but my favorite is mr. cyclops. even though i mostly came here to see my brother, the other big thing i wanted to do was play with mr. cyclops! oh- are they selling fish over there, let’s have a look!”

and just like that, teucer is gone again. paimon stomps her foot in the air as she heaves frustratedly.

“quit! running! off!”

you briefly go to see the fish on display as teucer tells you of the time when childe caught him an impossibly large fish just because he asked for it. somewhere in the back of your head, you find it endearing that childe has kept up the habit of fishing just like when his father would take you on his trips to ice fish as well. maybe you could get him to go fishing in liyue, just the two of you when you have some free ti- wait, what are you saying? you’re supposed to be watching out for teucer, who conveniently has gone off to see the boats and seems to have his entire good mood flipped around.

“teuce’, you look upset, what’s wrong? are you tired?” you coo.

he sighs melancholically and covers his face behind his hands. “i miss my brother…”

“what? but we were just with him!” argues paimon.

“yea, but for such a short time that it doesn’t even count! take me to see my brother, i don’t wanna play anymore!”

you sigh and look to the other designated babysitters. they look back with defeated shrugs- seems like you’ve done what you can to entertain him for the moment. turning back to teucer, you offer to carry him in your hold as you leave for qingxu pool, where childe said he would be, and he gladly accepts. from behind you, a low gurgle can be heard.

“urgh… paimon may never recover from that dish.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #childe fic #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #childe genshin impact

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brucebocchi · 4 months

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Ranking every new anime I watched in 2023, Pt. 3: #10-6

hey, i just started a ko-fi for my writing and possible other creative outlets. this post will also be available there, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i'm currently between jobs. the tumblr version of part 1 can be found here and part 2 here.

I didn't mean to drag this out quite so much, but I ended up writing a TON for the top 10, so for the sake of everyone's attention spans (and so I can buy some time to finish my top two) I broke it up into two more posts.

ALSO! I've embedded a link to each show's OP in the title of each entry. I wanted to give more of a visual element to each show outside of the header images, plus there have been some incredible OPs this year. I've gone back and edited them into the prior posts as well.

10. Trigun Stampede

It’s funny, I had fond memories of watching Trigun on Adult Swim in my adolescence, to the point where I used to count it among my all-time favorite anime for a while, but I didn't realize until this year that I hadn't actually sat down and watched it from beginning to end. It’s honestly a very uneven watch, and it’s clearly split into two parts: The first, a dieselpunk western revolving around a mysterious goofball with a big-ass gun and a bounty on his head, and the second a slightly more somber revenge quest as he is forced to survive his way past a rogues gallery while vowing not to take any lives. Still, it was a hit among western anime fans for a reason, and it was formative to me even back when I thought anime was kinda cringe.

Trigun Stampede is far from a faithful reinterpretation of Yasuhiro Nightow’s manga nor of the original Madhouse production. Meryl Stryfe is no longer a jaded veteran insurance adjuster but a much younger muckraking journalist. She’s no longer tailed by the gentle giantess Milly Thompson, but rather following her senpai, the gruff, bleary-eyed Roberto De Niro (the names in Trigun have always rocked). Nicholas D. Wolfwood isn’t an affable priest with a dark past; he’s all dark past now. And Vash the Stampede, now rocking a fuckboy undercut, is less of a mercurial wisecracker with a soft side and more of a reluctant gunman freaking it in a sensitive style.

Stampede wastes no time differentiating itself from any previous version of Trigun. Vash’s history is no longer a mystery waiting to be uncovered; it’s a driving factor of the plot as his brother Knives seeks revenge on humankind for their use and exploitation of “plants,” an alien race to which the two seem to be connected, as an energy source. This was always an element of the original anime that I felt went unexplored, so it was fascinating to see Stampede dive right in. It’s a great introduction to the story for people who haven’t seen the original, and full of unexpected turns for existing fans. It’s still built on the bones of Trigun as we know it, but it is very much its own thing.

People made a lot of hay about Vash’s new appearance, but I think it works. The huge pleather trench coat, spiky flat-top, and tiny glasses remain an iconic 90s design, but I believe the 90s is where it belongs. This take on Vash is just as capable but much more self-effacing, tortured, and averse to violence. This is a younger Vash, and it’s clear that his history with Knives is a much fresher wound, rather than the dull, nagging ache in the original. This is a gentler (but no less talented) Vash, so I think the softboy look suits him this time around.

I also spent most of the season quietly insisting to myself that the original version of Meryl is much better (and cuter) than the Stampede variant, and I still stand by that, but the updated version definitely grew on me. I mean, just look at that hat. But it’s clear from the jump that Stampede’s first season is very early in this version of the Trigun story (you may notice that the bounty on Vash’s head is much, much less than the famous 60 billion double-dollars), and Meryl has some growing to do (and presumably a whole lot of professional frustration) before she becomes something like the one we knew and loved around the turn of the 21st Century.

I’m still yet to watch Beastars, but it’s immediately apparent why Studio Orange was entrusted with the Trigun IP. This show looks incredible. This is some of the best CG animation I’ve ever seen outside of a Pixar or Spider-Verse movie. Characters are amazingly expressive and oscillate between naturalistic, weighty movement and cartoony flailing. Action scenes are inventive and dynamic and stand up to even the wildest sakuga. And yet, it still looks like an anime. It still retains the classic 24fps look and even occasionally trades in the CGI for hand-drawn animation for effect. We are long past the botched Berserk revival: This is what CGI anime should look like.

It’s plainly obvious that Trigun has always carried influences from landmark western media like Mad Max and Dune (not to mention Fist of the North Star, but that one always wore its Mad Max influence on its sleeve), so it’s been an unexpected delight to see those influences take a new shape now that both franchises have seen major updates since the last iteration of Trigun went off the air. For all of the alien technology and technicolor glowing lights, Trigun takes place entirely in a desert setting, and it’s impossible to see these chase scenes and not immediately think of Fury Road, or halfway expect to see Villanueve’s take on the Fremen popping out of the dust clouds.

Stampede is a very welcome entry to a franchise long believed to be well and truly over, and the more eyeballs on Trigun, the better. It’s evident by the end of this season that this take on the story is only just beginning, and it has already taken unexpected departures from the story as we already knew it. I can’t wait to see where it goes from here, but that’s mostly because we have confirmation that Milly will be in the next season. It can’t get here quickly enough.

9. Insomniacs After School

I watched and read a frankly absurd amount of romance-centric anime and manga this year, especially of the slice-of-life variety, to the point where even by the early summer I thought I'd had my fill. I'm overjoyed to say that Insomniacs After School proved me dead wrong.

What a treat this was. It's a simple enough premise: A boy with insomnia is sent on an errand to his high school’s abandoned observatory, where he finds a classmate sleeping because she suffers from insomnia as well. They quickly find out that the observatory is a perfectly quiet environment for the both of them, and that they actually get restful sleep around one another. In order to get away with making use of the area, they resurrect the school’s astronomy club and find a genuine love for astrophotography and, you guessed it, one another.

You couldn’t have picked a more apt studio to adapt this work than Liden Films. Call of the Night made a splash last year for its saturated, vibey nightscapes, and Insomniacs’ gorgeous astral visuals carry that mantle. The nighttime backdrops of the quiet suburbs, wide-open beaches, and lush countryside are nothing short of stunning, and Isaki’s adolescent wonder at the world’s hidden beauties reminded me, and I do not say this lightly, of something Miyazaki would’ve animated.

On a couple of occasions this year, I’ve been able to step back from an anime, take a breath, and simply say “That was beautiful.” Insomniacs gave me one such occasion. Even putting the visuals aside, the story itself is lovely and would have made this the feel-good anime of the year, if not for the next entry on this ranking. I would have more to say, but Insomniacs After School speaks for itself. Give it a shot.

8. Skip and Loafer

There are so many standalone adjectives I could use to describe this one, and most of them are ones that would normally make me want to impulsively run the other way like “comfy,” “feel-good,” “wholesome,” what have you, but I think the most comprehensively I can boil it down to a single word is “lovely.” Everything about it just gives you the warm fuzzies, and almost makes me think that the “I want more stories with no conflict” dorks might actually be onto something.

It’s a simple one: Mitsumi, a dorky teenage go-getter with her entire life planned out, moves to Tokyo from her no-horse beach town to attend one of the country’s best prep schools, but much like everyone who played the first two hours of Persona 5, she quickly gets lost in Shibuya’s subway station on the first day of school. She runs into Sousuke Shima, a laid-back boy from the same school who’s also running late, because that’s, like, what he does, and manages to wrangle him into running to school with her.

Mitsumi quickly draws attention from her classmates, not only from delivering a speech as the incoming class representative (and subsequently barfing all over her teacher), but because she inadvertently made fast friends with the hottest, most popular first-year in the school. This attracts the attention of social climbers and jealous hangers-on, but Mitsumi hardly notices. She’s used to knowing everyone in her school back home, so she wastes no time reaching out and seeing what’s up with anyone who’ll give her the time of day.

A lot of Skip and Loafer revolves around the roles for which we think we’re destined in a controlled social environment like high school, and how easily the preconceptions you have of other people can be shattered if you just get to, like, talk to them for 20 seconds. Mitsumi’s friend group quickly fills itself out with people who wouldn’t give each other so much as a passing glance at first, but come together so naturally that you almost can’t believe they weren’t friends already.

Shima, for his part, also struggles with those preconceptions; for as laid-back as he seems on the surface, he’s a habitual people pleaser and is constantly playing a role. He’s so caught up in the performance that he doesn’t quite know what’s going on half the time or how he really feels about most things. Mitsumi is so naturally magnetic, though, that he does seem to genuinely enjoy his time with her, and vice versa. You can see where this is headed, if the gorgeously-animated dances they do together in the OP weren’t enough of a tell.

Everything about Skip and Loafer is just downright pleasant. Character models are simple and sketchy, the color palette is awash in pastels and neutral tones, and the soundtrack is peppy and whimsical. It’s a warm hug of a series, and at no point does it feel cloying or manipulative. High school slice-of-life is pretty bloated as a genre, and I watched a ton of those this year, but there’s just something so charming and magnetic about Skip and Loafer that instills in me a sort of false nostalgia for the ideal high school experience I never had.

Also: Nao-chan. Exceptional trans representation. We do not get enough of that in anime and she is a breath of fresh fucking air. I would die for her.

7. The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Love You

And now for something much less wholesome.

I really don’t seek out harem anime. Tenchi Muyo was formative to me as a tween, and a rewatch last year ended up being a major catalyst in getting me back into anime, but despite it being widely considered the second-ever harem anime, it hasn’t left much of a legacy in the ones that followed. Harem anime from the 00s onward has largely been formulaic wish-fulfillment slop that runs itself in circles as a perpetual money-making machine rather than developing any sort of plot (see: Hina, Love and Girlfriend, Rent-a-). I know I covered Girlfriend Girlfriend earlier, and while that’s nothing like Tenchi either, it does scratch an ever-present itch for stupid, madcap, relentless anime bullshit.

The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, [...] Really Love You, meanwhile, sees that itch and takes a fucking chainsaw to it. To say everything about it is over-the-top would be an understatement: The top is Hyakkano’s floor. This show gives you everything you could ever want in a harem comedy, but to the extreme: It is your dad making you smoke the whole carton. It is Hell’s donut machine, and you are Homer Simpson. Satire is often at its best when it pushes the boundaries of absurdity, and 100 Girlfriends revels in that push like a horny bulldozer. This is not genre subversion, it’s genre explosion.

The headcount isn’t the only wildly outsized element of this series; every single member of the titular harem, each a tick on the checklist of every -dere archetype you can imagine, pushes the slider of each of their character tropes so far to the right it’s breaking the track. The deredere is a ball of deranged horniness, the tsundere betrays her intentions so compulsively that she’s functionally incapable of lying, and the kuudere is so robotically devoted to pure efficiency that it’s salient to mention that her name is literally pronounced “Nano A.I.” If you can think of an anime girl archetype, she is in this (or will be in future seasons), and she is the apotheosis.

And yet, this show still bothers to make each one of them an actual character. Harem anime has such a low bar to clear on that front, yet most entries in the genre still bang their dicks against it. Hyakkano's titular girlfriends, at least the ones introduced in the first season, are actual characters with actual backgrounds, actual motivations, actual growth, and actual reasons to like the protagonist beside the premise. They’re all founded on stock anime tropes, to be sure, but the original manga’s author actually put in the work to give them, you know, personalities. And above almost all else, they actually like each other too! This isn’t exactly a full-on polycule (though two of the girls are prone to making out with each other on occasion), but for as deeply weird as this family unit is on paper, they actually come across as a group of people who love and care for each other rather than everyone cattily jockeying for the same position.

And not for nothing, but Rentaro is easily one of the best harem protagonists I’ve ever seen, and again, this is coming from a Tenchi Muyo fan. I do enjoy Naoya’s over-the-top earnestness in Girlfriend Girlfriend, but Rentaro is the gigachad version. He is exceedingly patient, kind, and understanding of each of these girls’ unique quirks and qualities and quickly grows to learn to manage them in conflict and help them work through their insecurities, and he loves them back in kind and puts in the work to make equal time for each of them. He doesn’t want to “fix” these girls; he sees them for who they are and proactively does everything in his power to accommodate them. He's like if Tadano from Komi Can’t Communicate actually got the harem he deserved. Putting aside the fact that he’s, y’know, 100-timing his girlfriends, he comes across as just a really good partner.

I also want to be clear: For its rampant, fanservice-laden anime bullshit, this show is genuinely hilarious. It’s not some kind of “how did this shit even get made” trainwreck; it is a comedy first and foremost, and the comedy hits exactly as intended. The comic pacing is buckwild, the visual gags are so rampant that they’re almost difficult to keep up with, and the translators, at least in the version I watched, did an outstanding job of localizing the constant wordplay. It’s also so unapologetic in its horniness that you can’t help but admire it a bit; 100 Girlfriends knows exactly what it’s about, and it dares you to say something.

There’s a very good chance this won’t be for you. 100 Girlfriends is constantly pushing the boundaries of good taste, but never in an offensive way and never truly at its characters’ expense. Geoff Thew calls it the “most 'harem' harem anime,” but I'd argue that it’s the most "anime" anime: It is every trope you’ve ever seen in romcom anime cranked up to a thousand and smushed up against your nose. This shit hits like Panera lemonade. It is peak trash. If you have a tolerance for anime bullshit, this show may very well test that, but I still cannot recommend it enough.

6. Heavenly Delusion

Didn’t think I’d be getting into more than one post-apocalyptic anime this year, but I’d seen this one recommended so many times that I felt this list would be incomplete if I didn’t watch it. Don’t ask me about Pluto.

Heavenly Delusion (Hulu lists it under its Japanese title, Tengoku Daimakyo, for some reason) splits its runtime between two different stories: The first, a pair of young travelers making their way across a ruined Japan in search of nebulous goals neither is sure even exist; the second surrounding a group of adolescents in an unnervingly idyllic walled garden in some sort of school setting. The narrative flips between these two sporadically, rarely ever showing its hand in how they are even remotely connected.

On the post-apocalypse side, we follow Maru and his bodyguard-for-hire, Kiruko, as they trek across the country to deliver Maru to someplace called “Heaven,” while at the same time, Kiruko is in search of a pair of men from their youth. They are often beset by bandits, cults, and most crucially, horrifying monsters called “Man-Eaters,” which Maru has the unique ability to kill. On the school side, we see a group of gender-ambiguous kids in an enclosed space, constantly monitored and kept in a very controlled environment. Everything feels.. wrong. Nobody seems entirely human. There is a lingering and seemingly taboo curiosity about what lies outside the walls. I hesitate to say any more.

There is phenomenal human drama in here, and sparks so many conversations about transhumanism and human nature, gender, trauma, community, all things I’m not smart enough to really dive into. But to even address these topics here is to give the game away, and Heavenly Delusion is a story better left unspoiled, even if, a full season in, I’m still not 100% sure what’s going on.

This show is gorgeous in ways I’m still struggling to articulate. The character designs, animation, lighting, and cinematography are so immaculate that I repeatedly had to remind myself that I wasn't watching a movie. Heavenly Delusion looks like a grungy Shinkai film: Character models are immaculately realized and fluidly animated, the light and shadow effects are some of the best I’ve ever seen in TV animation, and action sequences are visceral and unpredictable. Maybe all I needed to say is that it was made by much of the same Production IG staff in charge of Psycho-Pass.

I want to say as little about what happens as possible, because the mystery is the main draw of Heavenly Delusion, but I feel the need to warn that there is a very dark and sour turn near the end of the season in the form of some strongly implied sexual violence. It was thematically unnecessary, and once that side of things is resolved, everyone just kinda… moves past it. It doesn’t ruin the show, I still recommend it heartily, but be forewarned. I found it upsetting, but more in the “did this REALLY need to be in there?” sense. The mounting tension and slowly-unfolding existential horror in this series are otherwise expertly woven into the narrative, and this part landed with a wet thud.

This is a much longer story than most of the season would have you believe, and it ends with far more questions than answers. One side of the story leaves off with an open end, and the other with a massive cliffhanger, which left me a little cold but with interest piqued for the next season. For what it is right now, though, Heavenly Delusion is a nearly perfect, endlessly thought-provoking mystery and one of the most gorgeously ugly things I’ve seen this year.

#anime reviews

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justporo · 7 months

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The Lord and the Lady

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 4

Author's Note: They made it out of the house, my friends! They arrive at the ball although they have lots of gremlin energy on the way and Tav almost dies laughing and Astarion has to make excuses for her... Also guys, it's happening! But I fear this will become so long... Longer maybe than the first fic... And by the way you can thank @minibabymel for the cloaks!

Song: Buntes Volk - Faun, Michael Rhein Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

Finally, the two of you left your house. You stepped out of your front door and were greeted by the crisp night air of an autumn evening. Taking a deep breath of wonderfully fresh air as the wind kept rustling through the crowns of some nearby trees. You loved this time of year when the air became colder and the days became shorter, the world slowly falling into slumber and preparing for another rebirth come the next year. And now it also meant longer nights for your soulmate and you that could be spent with whatever your hearts desired!

But all that couldn’t stop you from shivering when a gust of wind hit you. For as much as the dress was beautiful, it wasn’t exactly warming. You rubbed your naked forearms as Astarion closed the front door behind the two of you. “Maybe I should’ve thought of a coat”, you said and felt that your teeth almost started shattering.

“Way ahead of you, my love. And before you say something – these were already planned to go with our clothes, so it’s not technically another gift”, Astarion said with a grin behind you and as you turned around you saw that he was holding two black cloaks. You didn’t even want to try and call him out on it this time because you already had goosebumps all over your body.

The vampire offered you one of the garments and you took it gratefully. Before you threw it over your shoulders you looked at it. It was a very long cloak, heavily embroidered all over with the same stars you had on your dress. They formed a symmetrical pattern down each hemline down the front. And the inside lining once again mimicked the colours of a sunset but even more dramatically than your dress: a gradient from deep dark blue over to purple and then ending in an almost golden tone. You shook your head as you whispered “incredible” to yourself and put the coat on.

Then you looked over to Astarion who’d already put on his: it was very similar to yours, the pattern of the stitching a little less curvy and more sharp edges. And the lining of his cloak was a very dark shade of red. The symbolism wasn’t lost on you.

“You really have an inclination for dramatics, don’t you?”, you asked the vampire who was currently checking if he had safely stowed away your invitation and the key to your home. He stopped what he was doing, eyes wide and looked at you. “Me? Dramatic?”, he asked in a haunting tone. Then he very elaborately and elegantly placed the back of his hand on his forehead and closed his eyes: “How come you’ve only now realised my vein for histrionics, my unperceptive lover?”

“I don’t know is it a side effect of your vampirism or something?”, you replied tongue in cheek. Astarion’s face split into a big grin, showing his pronounced canines. “Oh no, darling, I fear I was born with this fateful condition.” “Shame”, you replied and shook your head, then started to walk down the few steps to the street “Because that means even if we were to find a cure for your vampirism, you’d never truly be healed.”

“Oh, come on, darling, you love when I’m being dramatic. You think I’m funny! Also beautiful”, your vampire rattled off while coming after you and then, ever the gracious gentleman, opening the small wrought-iron gate to the street for you. “Ah, and smart”, he added in conclusion and shortly pointed a finger at you.

You sighed as you stepped out on the street: “Yes, I do – I also think you’re very full of yourself.“ “Yet you do so much to always stroke my ego, love, so I regret to inform you that you’re at least partially guilty – an accomplice. And I agree with you that modesty isn’t a good look on me. I’m a glorious bastard and I know it”, Astarion went on and gave you a wink and a smirk.

You sighed again – there was no point in denying it. He was right – and you loved and admired him for it.

So, the two of you started to make your way to the given location of the ball: Herrenfordt Castle. On your way there you idly chatted about everything and everyone, laughing and joking.

While you walked through the Upper City you saw several other couples that seemed to have the same destination as you. Many dressed just as elegantly as you, many even much more excessive, if not to say tasteless in their exaggeration of luxury. The closer it seemed you got to the castle the more party goers crossed your path. Carriages passed you, becoming more and more frequent the longer you walked.

Merrily Astarion pointed out all those he received as the gravest missteps in style: “See this lady over there? She’s wearing so many diamond colliers, I’m sure she can’t breathe right. Gods, it’s like a diamond breastplate.” “This person’s tailor seems to think a hot ankle might distract from their face – or maybe they just ran out of cloth for the rest of the pants.” “Is that a hat or did an owlbear cub sit on that man’s head and made their hair into its new cave? Ugh.”

You kept losing it at the vampire’s on-point snide remarks, more than once laughing out loud and causing the subject matter to turn around and glare at the both of you angrily before they kept on walking. But instead of calming down with the commentary Astarion seemed to be spurred on by your hearty giggles. Until one of his remarks caused you to actually double over in hysterical laughter (“Oh dear, what’s that shawl? Tav, we should check if this poor animal is still alive.”) and the couple in front of you turned around to glare at you. A gentleman with a much too tall top hat making a step towards you: “Excuse me? What did you just say about my lady’s attire?”

You were actually crouched down almost dying of laughter and desperately clinging to Astarion’s arm who patted your clawing hands in a “hush-hush” kind of motion. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I would excuse my lady’s terrible behaviour but as you can see-“, he looked down at you and gave the gentleman a pitiful face “she’s a burden on me as well.” The noble couple seemed utterly confused by what was happening, so they opted to just turn around and get away from you as quickly as possible.

You could have sworn you heard the words ‘crazy’ and ‘lunatics’ as they quickly walked away from you – desperate to get distance as to not catch your madness.

Then Astarion leaned down to you: “Listen, my love, I know I’m terribly funny but…” You waved him off and got up again while wiping a tear from your eye: “Yeah yeah. Burden my ass, Astarion.” Another couple walked by and looked disgusted at your vulgar language.

You nearly started laughing again and noticed that Astarion too had difficulty holding in his laughter, judging by the way he bit his lip which showed off one fang in the most adorable way. It was moments like these he looked incredibly young and without worry. You always longed to give him more of these moments.

You straightened your back and took a deep breath before you looked over at the pale elf who had calmed down and watched you with a smirk on his face now. “Stop being so mean and funny then and I won’t burden you anymore with my insolent behaviour”, you said and leaned over to give him a quick kiss, but Astarion cupped your face and drew out the moment. His eyes sparkled when he slowly drew back moments later: “I love it when I’m the one that makes you laugh.” You hummed contentedly and gave him a wicked grin which Astarion promptly answered with his signature smirk – just as wicked.

“I love that you’re my soulmate, my lover and my terribly unhinged best friend to make it so”, you replied. Astarion’s smirk grew into a full grin: “And you’re my favourite little gremlin best friend.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you gave a nasty little cackle to play your role right.

Then he softly untangled from you and dragged you on to get going again.

“Oh, it’s going to be such a delightful night, I‘m sure, my heart”, he said and then placed your hand in the crook of his angled arm to get you to start walking again. “If it keeps going like that”, you agreed.

As you kept making your way through the Upper City a few prominent spires slowly came into view – and not much later the giant mansion to which it belonged in the distance.

Astarion pointed it out to you: “There it is. That’s our destination.”

You had already noticed that the space in between estates, and also the houses themselves, had gotten a lot bigger. All properties in this part of the city had huge fenced in gardens, giant and meticulously trimmed hedges, long pathways leading up to the actual manors. You were now definitely in the richrich area of town. Your eyebrows rose and you looked at Astarion: “That giant monstrosity? That’s worse than…” Your words trailed off. “Worse than Cazador’s place? Yes, yes it is. And with that context you’d might imagine the kind of bastard that lives there”, Astarion finished your sentence.

“It’s not actually a castle though – people just like to be pretentious. It has towers and all but it’s more of a manor, really…”, he kept explaining as you tried to get a better look while you kept slowly coming closer to Herrenfordt Castle.

„Should I be impressed?“

„Oh no, my love, people with this big and flamboyant a home usually have something to compensate for.“

„So, that’s why you insisted we got the smaller house?“, you said dryly. Astarion simply grinned and shrugged.

“Have you been there before?”, you asked after a few moments of companiable silence. The vampire shook his head: “No – I’ve only ever known of its existence. And come to think of it… I can’t actually remember who’s owned this estate before, but I certainly haven’t heard of this Lord De Grodt before our gracious invitation. It might just be this is his grand entrance to Baldur’s Gate high society.”

“Oh, shouldn’t we be oh so grateful then”, you said sarcastically and the vampire snickered at your condescending remark.

“So, no idea who this pretentious dude might be?”, you asked.

“None, to be honest. The only thing I could tell you is that his name is another foreign common tongue that’s rarely spoken here. But seeing as powers have shifted quite a lot in this city recently… Who knows, maybe a foreign noble trying to work the power vacuum and the still shaky new hierarchies in Baldur’s Gate to his own advantage.”

You didn’t know how to reply after this. Politics had never been something you had cared much about in your life; until recently. But for the longest part of your life your biggest worry had been how and when you would get your next meal and where you would sleep; for that it merely didn’t matter whose name it was that stood atop the list of this city.

“Wyll better watch out then, I guess”, you replied and thought of your friend who had been named Grand Duke after you had freed the city. “He better”, Astarion cheerfully and playfully agreed “but I guess the little noble will be able to clash his horns with the other contenders successfully.” The vampire laughed one of his high-pitched giggles. You gave him a side-eye for his terrible joke.

More carriages went past you as you closed in on your destination. You could already hear lots of noise and some music from the giant manor. You couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all for a second and you bit your lip and, pressing yourself against Astarion’s shoulder a bit more. “You know, I can’t help but think that all this is somehow the most unlike turn my life could possibly have taken”, you said and let your eyes wander over the mansion, the lights there and all the party guests that surrounded you. The vampire kept silent and only looked at you.

“I get that for you this is nothing new – the fancy clothing, the politics, the luxury… You know, in another life I would have run into you, spat in front of your boots, flipped you off then taken your purse and would’ve thought to myself what an idiot you were”, you said and smiled weakly at your soulmate. “I would have liked to see you try”, Astarion replied and gave you a warm smile in return.

“Now only thinking that you’re an idiot remained”, you poorly tried to crack a joke.

The vampire didn’t even reply, clearly noticing that you tried to gloss over your anxiety. He merely pinched your cheek between his fingers and kept smiling at you.

“Don’t worry, my sweet, it’s mostly hot air all this – you’ll soon see what I mean”, the vampire said and shook his hand towards the giant estate dismissingly before he winked at you and reassuringly placed his own hand over yours on the crook of his arm. You smiled but couldn’t completely shake the feeling of uneasiness.

You were past the big iron gates that marked the entrance to the grand estate. The two of you fell silent for the remaining way. Lots of people were huddled at the entrance where invitations were shown to some servants in livery before people continued up the stairs to the entrance.

Everything was flanked with braziers on the outside, once inside with giant candelabras. You entered a long and tall corridor behind lots of other couples. Giant chandeliers in gold were hanging from the ceiling and glistening with warm mage light as you walked over a plush and intricately patterned carpet. The walls were full with giant paintings, statues were placed in equal spacing along the giant corridor that felt more like a hall really. Of course, the entrance area was made to impress. And it worked: you were turning your head to take everything in.

“Don’t break your sweet little neck, my love, I still have need for it”, Astarion whispered with a snicker to you as you still tried to take a look at everything. You felt almost dizzy from all the gold, the saturated colours and glints and shimmers. “How can people be this rich?”, you whispered more to yourself than to Astarion and almost didn’t realise that he had stopped walking.

You were now standing in front of a very unfriendly looking servant in a uniform that looked a lot fancier than the ones you’d seen before. And as you looked at him you realised it was the servant who’d presented you with the invitation some weeks ago. You also noticed that the corridor had opened up onto a small gallery and that you were standing at the top of a grand pair of stairs. Some couples were standing on the gallery, talking, some with drinks, some seemed to wait for others to arrive.

As the servant looked at you and seemed to remember you his facial expression somehow turned even more sour. “Please, if you may offer your coats to one of the staff”, he greeted you and snapped his fingers to alert one of the other servants around. You both took off your cloaks and handed them off.

“Invitation?”, the bald servant asked in a very annoyed tone – without words saying what he wasn’t allowed to: ‘they’re truly allowing anyone in here nowadays’. You threw a glance at Astarion and saw that one of his eyebrow’s twitched in annoyance at this rude treatment and a muscle in his jaw worked. If one thing could really rile Astarion up quickly it was when people so very obviously looked down on him. His pride, even though it way too often took the better of him, wouldn’t let him feel any other way – but he said nothing.

He took the card out of his doublet and slowly held it to the man who moved to grab it just as slowly and annoyedly. In the last moment Astarion snatched the card away again. “Say please”, he hissed silently and leaned a bit towards the servant in challenge.

The two men stared at each other – but Astarion had much more experience with staring people down in his lifetime. You knew – you’d been stared down by the vampire a few times and could honestly not recommend the experience.

A vein ticked on the forehead of the servant’s face. But you were invited and belonged her. So, he forcefully swallowed his own pride it seemed and threw on an incredible fake smile that was more a grimace really and said: “My dear lord, if you would please offer me your invitation for a short moment of your precious time.” The servant bowed mockingly. His tone was so falsely friendly you could feel the bile rising up in your own threat.

“Oh, I’d be most happy to”, Astarion replied cheerfully and just as factitious and finally handed over the card.

“Lord Astarion Ancunín and…”, the servant read and then stared at you. “Tav”, you said simply. The annoyed face was back: “But you must have a name, a full name.” “Yes, it’s Tav”, you said.

The servant stared at you for a moment longer, then rolled his eyes and turned toward another servant standing behind him who was holding a giant staff with a gold sphere on top of it. He whispered something to him, then he turned back and handed Astarion the invitation again. “Enjoy”, the bald man said before turning to the next couple behind you – his tone very much making clear that he hoped you dearly wouldn’t.

“Ready?”, Astarion whispered to you. “No”, you whispered back as you approached the other servant who was looking at you expectantly and at least with a friendlier look on his face.

Astarion gave the man a curt nod, then the servant who was standing directly at the edge of the enormous staircase knocked his staff on the floor twice, loudly and announced to the crowd below: “Lord Astarion Ancunín and Lady Tav Ancunín.”

“Lord Astarion Ancunín and Lady Tav Ancunín”, you parroted hollowly.

“Oh, my love, you were just made a lady”, Astarion said and winked at you with a smirk. That had not been the thing you’d been hung up on though.

“I was also just made your wife it seems – the plot thickens, Astarion”, you grinned back but could feel a blush creep into your cheeks. Instead of answering the vampire cupped your cheek for a quick kiss. Then he pulled away and elegantly offered you his hand while bowing his head – embodying the perfect vision of gallantry. “Shall we, my beautiful lady? The world’s impatient to meet you, my love”, he said and gave a short nod towards downstairs.

You follow his motion with your eyes and see that down the grand staircase in the giant ballroom lots of heads had swivelled towards the both of you. Some were already sticking their heads together, chuckling behind their hands while others stared with open curiosity or even a sneer on their face. But at least there were a few genuine smiles you felt like. Still, you could already feel anxiety rise up again, but you quickly looked back at Astarion who had kept looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes and promise in his smile.

You grabbed your vampire’s hand and readied yourself for a descent into madness.

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of fake smiles and hidden lies #tav

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wen-kexing-apologist · 10 months

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On the Subject of Pat 2.0

Hello! It’s your resident 25 year old working their first job out of grad school with no family in the area and a friend group that is comprised mostly of people older than them here to talk about "Pat" Phakphum Tangwatthana another resident 25 year old working his first job out of grad school with no family in the area and a friend group that is comprised mostly of people older than him.

I have seen some confusion or distaste around Pat and Pat’s storyline in the most recent episode, and I understand the criticism around the editing needing to be tighter, but I do just want to talk about my own perceptions of Pat and why I didn’t need any more explicit explanations for his behavior than we already got.

It’s essay time :D

Pat and his emotions in Episode 9:

We start the episode on Pat’s point of view, cutting back to the previous evening and establishing Pat’s level of inebriation

Gif from @pharawee

Everything is ghosting and blurry and it is very clear that Pat was out of his head if not out of his body when he was having fun with Jeng on the dance floor. This is evidence enough as far as I am concerned that Pat had absolutely zero knowledge of Jeng’s dance floor confession. But what he does remember is learning Jeng is queer. Which as we are all aware, rocks his fucking world.

Now, I wrote in my previous timeline that narratively, Pat has never had the time to contemplate the sexuality of his boss. At the very beginning, he spills glass jelly on Jeng’s shoe and meets a kind and very attractive man, and then he just simps over this very Lorge Man for awhile while Jeng is actively trying to manage a crush on an employee because he understands would be a huge HR Violation if he were to try to pursue that thread. But Pat has been flirting hard, in ways that are obvious if you are queer and able to identify them, but less so if you are straight and don’t automatically look at the level of familiarity as flirting. However, we have to look at when, where, and how Pat and Jeng break their professionalism and where they maintain it.

Pat only initiates the break in professionalism when he is drunk and/or out of the office. His criticisms of Jeng he gives in the review? Drunk. His commentary about how when he first met Jeng he was nice and he is having a hard time reconciling that Jeng with micromanaging boss Jeng? Drunk. Hanging all over him and tugging at his shirt? Drunk. Hanging all over him and tugging at his shirt round 2? Drunk.

The rest Jeng initiates. He engineers the dinner in his office, he asks Pat to come over on Sunday to work, he suggests Pat get ready at his apartment, he suggests he and Pat share a hotel room, he asks Pat to accompany him to the furniture store, he calls the video of drunk!Pat cute, he asks Pat to go on the restaurant tour with him.

So, from this we know that Pat is aware enough of the office gossip and when in control of his mental faculties, is able to temper his feelings towards Jeng while at work. And that Jeng has been simping hard from the beginning, and Pat has been reciprocating the energy whenever Jeng starts the interaction.

But we also know that Pat has a difficult time handling his other emotions, especially while at work. Partially because he is young, partially because he is exploited, partially because he is almost certainly spending a lot of his time focusing on a) not having a meltdown and b) not hitting on his boss in front of his coworkers.

Anyway, the timeline of Pat’s immediate emotions around Jeng’s sexuality confession I have previously outlined so just keep that in mind while I continue to ramble about Pat in this episode.

Pat learns Jeng is gay, freaks out about it because Jeng is fully aware of everything Pat has been doing, and Pat is fully aware that Jeng has been intentionally flirting with him this whole time. Spirals about it in his dreams the whole night and wakes up hungover and having an existential crisis about what the fuck comes next for him.

He takes the day off, tries to give himself some space to think, process, reassess, and figure out his next steps. But instead…his Mom is in town, and in his kitchen, cooking him breakfast.

What is she doing here? He doesn’t know, it’s a surprise, and a good surprise because we know he has a good relationship to his parents, and you can tell that from the way he interacts with his mother. But a mother is going to mother, so she’s going to comment on his eating habits, and he’s going to lie about how often he eats instant noodles, and she’s going to check in on his health, having seen him absolutely plastered the previous evening, and she is going to ask about the very kind and handsome man that helped Pat home and made sure he was safe.

And she’s going to say a passing comment about Pat being a burden to his friend.

Which, looking at Pat’s face here, was not really what he wants to be hearing at this particular moment. Not when he is trying to get Jeng out of his head, not when he is trying to create space to figure out what he is feeling about that entire situation, the reality that he could have what he wants, the understanding that Jeng has been wise to Pat’s attraction to him this whole time. Not when he got in to that whole situation with Jeng last night because he was trying to distract himself from being sad about breaking up with Put. His parents live in another country, they have no idea what is going on in his life, his mother sees her son was out with a nice man and so has no reason to suspect something would have been wrong. So she stumbles right in to one of Pat’s sore spots.

“Where did you meet him?” she asks and Pat’s goes:

If anyone needs a live action shocked pikachu face, look no further. He knows he cannot tell her. He knows what it would sound like, what it would seem like, how inappropriate it would appear for him to say “I met him at work” and even more so if he has to say “that is my boss.”

He’s had the realization that Jeng is gay, and therefore that a relationship between Jeng and Pat is possible, and he is now having the realization of just how bad it would appear to literally anyone on the outside. Even now, even before they are dating, when they are just coworkers and friends, his mother knowing that he was out, late at night, that drunk around his boss??? Absolutely not. Pat recognizes that and quickly shifts the focus of the conversation away from Jeng, asking his mother about a doctor’s appointment she is supposed to be getting to.

Another outfit, and another day has passed. Pat is staring at the stuffed tiger that he got on his furniture -date- shopping trip with Jeng. A stuffed animal that he has been using as a replacement for the shark stuffed animal that he had when he was with Put and that Put has used to manipulate Pat into talking to him and into considering re-entering into a relationship with him. This tiger here is serving as both a reminder of Put, the fact that Pat was unable to love Put because of his feelings for Jeng, and as a reminder of Jeng, whose sexuality, level of availability, and messy HR potentiality are all front and center in Pat’s mind. So he hides the tiger away in a drawer where he doesn’t have to look at it, so that he isn’t faced with a constant reminder of the personal crises in his life, because he is young, and his parents are here, and he’s never experienced this particular combination of emotions before, and to talk to his parents about his dilemma he would have to explain this situation to his parents and I don’t think Pat believes he can talk to anyone about it. Because all of his friends besides Ae are friends from work, Jaab is Jeng’s brother, Jen and Jaab are going through it and Jen is quitting, Kanon was on the production team and Kanon is married to Ae so whatever Pat says to Ae may get back to Kanon pretty quickly. Chot is fully incorporated into the office life and is fully aware of what is going on (and in fact may think Pat and Jeng are much further ahead in their relationship than they are) but Pat thinks he’s being sly about his feelings for Jeng, and Chot being directly in the office rather than on an outside production team is not going to be a draw to talking about his feelings for his boss.

Meanwhile, Jeng is approaching the other queer in the office to ask if Chot has seen Pat cause he hasn’t been in the office in a few days and realizes that Pat is taking days off without even

notifying him. Readers, I do not need to show you Chot’s face throughout all of this. Chot is 150% convinced that Jeng and Pat are in the middle of a lover’s quarrel. I need a Chot live reaction to finding out that Pat and Jeng haven’t fucked yet, and a gravestone for Chot when he learns that Pat thought Jeng was straight.

Alright, so, Jeng is in his sad boy hours clearly pining after Pat in the office in front of Chot, but pushes that all back down in order to perform his necessary duties as a boss. Jeng too, is trying to keep control of his emotions, but will end up losing his grip of them and having an utter break down.

But this is not about Jeng, this is about Pat

Pat’s Mom is here, but she’s settled in, and Pat’s off work, so maybe now he has time to try to process some of his emotions?

Nope! Dad appears!

And what? Another surprise! Another parent coming to stay at his house without warning, and for what reason?

…

Oh.

Oh shit.

Pat has completely lost track of the passage of time. Which hey, works for Ae going from 0 to 30 weeks out of nowhere. Why does his Dad come to Thailand around this time every year?

It’s almost Pat’s birthday, and Pat has completely forgotten. This man has been juggling all of his work, a ton of his coworkers assignments, MLM schemes (the only mlm Pat is interested in is…nevermind), the Forge project, The Forge commercial shoot, leading the commercial shoot, his relationship with Put, his breakup with Put, navigating remaining professional in a workspace with his recent ex when emotions are still raw, and his mounting feelings for actually gay actually single hot boss man. On top of that, Pat is living alone, surviving off of ramen noodles, and (iirc) waiting to see if he makes it past the probationary period and is actually going to be allowed to stay on as an employee when that window is over. Jen is an adult, and not one Pat knows very well, Chot has his shit together and is engaged, Ae and Kanon are adults, married, and soon-to-be-parents, and Jaab is his age but is just as much if not more of a hot mess than Pat is. Pat gets convinced to go on that restaurant tour by Ae and their other friend, but those two are straight and therefore will not get what Pat is spiraling about after finding out Jeng is gay. So where can Pat go? Who can he turn to for advice? Who is going to have the time and the understanding and the patience to help him navigate all of these rising pressures?

Well, we get a good indication, of where that is heading because Pat’s dad takes one look at Pat’s utter shock at realizing that he has forgotten his own birthday and states:

Life must be pretty hard lately. His father is in the know, he’s gettin’ wise, gettin’ with it. It’s a great dynamic of Pat pretending to be fine for the sake of his mother, and then having no ability to hide from his father because the initial shock of the realization meant he wasn’t able to mask his emotional state.

He burns his ramen noodles, his father cooks for him. Gives him vegetables. Calls it like it is in Pat’s life even though he doesn’t have the full context.

Pat returns to work, and Chot starts doing his gay fairy godmother deal, vague-posting about what he thinks Pat’s problem is through the lens of his own issues. He knows Pat is young, and Pat is coming out of a relationship, and that Pat does not have a lot of guidance on the whole Being Gay in Thailand thing, despite being pretty comfortable in his sexuality and navigating his relationship with Put pretty maturely, if we’re honest. Chot is reaching out, Chot is extending the hand, Chot is trying to turn the tide of their relationship from just work friends to friends who can rely on one another in their personal life.

Now, Pat has been dissociating for the entire conversation thus far, because realizing he has forgotten his birthday because he’s been so caught up in everything has started his death spiral. When Jeng came out he tripped into it and was gripping at the edge of his remaining sanity by trying to give himself time and space to work through his emotions, but the arrival of his father and the understanding that he has not been thinking about himself for however long is what starts this final (and ultimately unsuccessful) attempt at managing his emotional state.

But Chot’s admission that being gay is hard for Krit, snaps Pat out of it a little bit, and we get Pat’s “At least he’s straightforward with showing you that he loves you” and now…Pat has not been paying a whole lot of attention to what Chot was saying, so this is either Pat being very good at processing information while dissociating, and/or Pat picking up on the part of the story that is most relevant to him and attaching his own frustrations with his current situation to it.

“At least he is straightforward with showing you that he loves you”

Okay, so let’s explore who this is about. That’s right. It’s about literally every possible romantic pursuit of his in the last few weeks/months. Put, MLM guy, and Jeng.

On the Put end of things, Put left Pat two years prior, valuing his job over his relationship with Pat while simultaneously struggling with his own queerness. When Pat and Put get back together, Pat pours his whole heart and soul into trying to make the relationship work. Because he needs it to work. Because he’s in love with his boss and he can’t be in love with his boss because that way madness (and job loss) lies. We do see moments of them being lovey-dovey, we see moments of flirtation, but the show is extremely intentional about showing that Pat and Put’s relationship is not a happy one. Put ignores Pat over dinner, that dinner scene where Put is mostly focused on his cellphone is dimly and cooly lit, with the tiniest smidge of warmth behind Pat and nothing anywhere close to Put.

They make out in a hotel and Pat asks if Put likes him, and Put does not give him an answer, he just flips the question back around on Pat. Pat doesn’t answer either, not at first, he just kisses Put, and then realizes that it doesn’t feel the way it used to, and whatever feelings he may have had for Put before are no longer there. Because he is in love with his boss. So he leaves Put and goes to the party to seek out the person he wants to be around/with. When Pat breaks up with Put he calls him out on his attempts to manipulate him. So Pat is sad about the break up, sure, and he is allowed to be. But he is also reconciling here with the fact that Put never showed interest in him, unless and until Pat was threatening to leave.

Then we get MLM guy, who is very forward in his interest with Pat. Pat is picking up what MLM guy is putting down (he thinks), and gets all excited about the prospect of having another Hot Tall Boi to channel his energy into so that he isn’t left to think about Jeng or Put’s return to Thailand. Pat is excited for the “date” and is devastated when it turns out this man wasn’t interested in him at all, he just wants him to join a multilevel marketing scheme. After which Pat is harassed at work and hounded by this man until he is literally threatened. So now Pat has to grapple also with the knowledge that the one person who seemed to be obviously, openly interested in him, was just using those emotions to get something out of him. Yet another manipulation. On the Jeng end of things, Jeng is forced to be subtle about his love for Pat by nature of the power imbalance inherent in a boss and employee relationship. Jeng has been intentionally engineering his romantic advances to have as much plausible deniability as possible. Which means, Pat, thinking that Jeng is straight, has not picked up on them. Or rather has convinced himself that Jeng wasn’t being intentional about making moves. If Jeng had been more obvious, had pursued him the way that Pat is used to being pursued, that is, more explicitly, if Jeng had even been more obviously queer, then Pat would have known immediately. But Pat has a luxury that Jeng and even Put do not, which is that him being clockable will not ruin his whole life the way that Put and Jeng as famous, prominent people would run the gauntlet if that information were to get out. Put says it himself in Episode 8: “A famous person like you might not be able to come out a lot, right?”

Jeng isn’t clockable as queer to the average person, and as Pat has been actively trying not to read into things, and has been trying to rein in his own horniness for Jeng, Jeng isn’t clockable to him either. SO…all of this to say that Pat feels that Put was not straightforward with their love, and that Jeng has been disguising all of his attempts at wooing Pat under a safety blanket of work. So Pat is feeling primarily hurt, lied to, and betrayed.

So, what we end up getting with Jeng is…manipulation. He has manipulated every situation to get Pat and him alone together, while at the same time not clueing Pat in to the fact that is what he was doing. While additionally not clueing Pat in to the fact he is gay. While also not clueing Pat into the fact that he’s Jaab’s brother until Pat literally walks into the middle of an interaction between Jaab and Jeng. While also not initially clueing Pat in to the fact he is Pat’s boss even after Jeng realized.

The past two people that Pat has been interested in have manipulated him over and over again.

His coworkers have manipulated him over and over again.

How else is Pat supposed to see Jeng not being explicit about his feelings? He’s being manipulated once again by Jeng not saying anything.

Chot lets Pat know that he can talk to him about anything, and Pat says “it’s ok, it’ll pass”.

Why is that relevant? CAUSE OF PARALLELS THAT COME LATER.

Anyway, Pat is giving an explicit invitation to talk about his feelings, and he brushes it off. Because Chot is an office friend in his office where his boss who he is having feelings about works, and Pat is very much oblivious to the fact that any gay within a 20 mile radius can see what is going on between Pat and Jeng. So he thinks he can’t be honest. Because that puts him and Jeng both in a sticky situation.

So he puts on a brave face, because he thinks that he can, because Jeng isn’t supposed to be in the office today. Because Chot told Pat that Jeng was out and Chot was covering. (Yet another reason why Pat may not want to talk to Chot about Jeng, Chot is literally acting as his boss right now). Because the thoughts Pat is having, the feelings that he is having, they are manageable so long as Pat does not have to face Jeng…

Except Jeng appears. On a day that he is most definitely not supposed to be here. They are at working, they are at work. Jeng does exactly what Pat has just indirectly told Chot he wishes someone would do.

He pulls a “boyfriend” and gives his jacket to his freezing love interest.

Now, is this something Jeng would do in the office? I fucking hope not. But currently, Jeng and Pat are sitting in the back of a dark room, with literally all the other queer people in the office. This is a safe space, this is a shelter. It’s why and how Jeng and Pat’s closeness has progressed in the most recent episodes. Because they have been away from the physical office space, around the straight and sometimes homophobic coworkers, and instead, on set with literally every gay boy known to Man. Jeng knows Chot knows, Jeng knows Jaab knows, having realized that Pat had no idea that he was gay, Jeng has decided he has been approaching things wrong, and gets bolder.

But, Pat has a) still not processed everything, b) is still oblivious to the fact that everyone around him knows exactly what is happening, c) is in the office, and d) is in the office with JENG who Pat was explicitly told would not be there. So you can imagine the stress he is under, and you can imagine with his track-record of manipulative men, that he is thinking very much that Jeng is playing with his emotions.

Because Jeng is playing with his emotions. Not intentionally. But Pat himself has never experienced this particular set of challenges before and Jeng is always on the brain. Pat’s emotional state is out of whack and it is at least 50% Jeng’s fault. Pat, again very maturely, hands that token of affection off to Chot, so that it will seem like nothing. So that it will read as nothing to anyone around him. Because Pat doesn’t know that they know.

Pat, who has still not had the opportunity to get the time and space that he needs from Jeng, because his parents are in town on an extended stay, because he had to go back to work eventually, because Jeng is now right there, once again does the mature thing, and walks away from the situation. He makes space.

Jeng follows after him, which again, makes it extremely obvious that Jeng is acting inappropriately close to Pat. But Jeng knows everyone in the room knows, which is why he can get away with it. But Pat just wants to be alone and Jeng is not letting him.

They retreat to an isolated corner. Where they have one of the juiciest conversations to date:

Jeng: “Did I make you uncomfortable in any way?’

Pat: “No, I’m just tired,”

Jeng: “Is it my fault?”

Pat: “No,”

Jeng: “I’m sorry”

Pat: “Why are you saying sorry to me, when I said it wasn’t your fault?”

Jeng: “You didn’t answer my text, ever since that day”

Pat: “Mr. Jeng, could you stop texting me? If it’s not work related. Don’t invite me to go eat. Don’t drop me off at home.”

And Pat says all of this without making eye contact with Jeng. When he finally does look up? He can see how devastated Jeng looks.

It confuses him in fact, to see this strong of an emotional reaction to Pat drawing these boundaries. Because, while Pat has not explicitly stated this yet, he thinks Jeng is fucking with him. This reaction is running very counter to what Pat is anticipating from this conversation.

So he has to say something else to fill the silence, and to soften the blow:

“Uh…I want to thank you. Thank you for everything. But please don’t do it again. Especially in front of everyone.”

“I can’t say no.”

And I take this two ways coming from Pat. First that Jeng being his boss puts Pat in the terrible situation of potentially not feeling comfortable saying no to Jeng. Because Jeng has power over Pat, even though we all know (or I at least hope based on this entire show so far) that Jeng is not the type of person that would take a personal vendetta out on Pat for rejecting his advances in the office”

Which is why I want to take a secondary lens to this conversation, and read that “I can’t say no” line as a double entendre. Jeng has let Pat know he is gay, Pat has placed all of their interactions into the context of that new information, Pat has realized that Jeng has been pursuing him this whole time. Pat realizes there may be reciprocated feelings involved. Pat tells Chot indirectly that he wants someone to be straightforward in their love. Jeng gives him the jacket. Pat has now been offered a much more clear admission from Jeng about his interest. Pat has feelings for Jeng. Pat has very strong feelings for Jeng. Pat hangs off of Jeng at every given opportunity the second he is out of his head. If Jeng pursues him, if Jeng is genuinely interested in him, if these feelings he has are reciprocated, and Jeng does not give Pat space. Pat will give in to his feelings and they will start an incredibly inappropriate workplace relationship.

Pat can’t say no because Jeng is his boss, and Pat can’t say no because he’s been DTF from the moment he laid his eyes on Jeng.

And again, I argue that Pat has actually been navigating this entire situation incredibly maturely. He removes himself from situations where he may be seen engaging in inappropriate workplace relations, and sets firm boundaries around what type of contact he and Jeng can have.

Pat tries to leave, Jeng pulls him back, wraps him in a hug, and does the thing Pat wishes people would do and is straightforward in his love for Pat:

Gif from @bellepark

Now here is where shit gets fun (read: terrible) for Pat emotionally. Because, ya know, he hasn’t already been dealing with enough shit. Pat sees Jeng: handsome, rich, successful, talented and cannot possibly fathom a reality where Jeng is actually in to him, a 25 year old in his first job, no wealth, no successful business ventures, who is feeling very much like the is untalented because of Chris’ mom on the commercial set. Jeng is everything, Jeng has everything, what could Pat possibly offer?

Gif from @bellepark

It legitimately does not compute. It is far, far simpler for Pat to assume that Jeng is fucking with him, toying with his emotions, possibly even trying to get Pat to admit to feelings so he can turn around and have him fired.

And If it is true that Jeng likes him, then how much has Jeng’s crush impacted his ability to accurately critique Pat? Was Pat only told that he was doing a good job by Jeng because Jeng had a crush? Was Pat given the commercial spot because Jeng had a crush? Is Pat even good at anything or does Jeng just want to fuck him and is therefore elevating his positions in order to leverage Pat’s growing importance to get Pat to do what he wants?

Pat has spent too much time lately being manipulated and being bullied and that is where he is coming from in his interaction with Jeng here. He is young, he does not understand what Jeng could possibly, legitimately want in a relationship with him, and if he lets himself believe that it makes sense for them to be together, then he will not be able to stop himself from getting in to a very dicey HR situation.

Jeng goes home, has a #hotgirlmeltdown and this is where I bring up the parallel that Pat told Chot “It’ll pass” and unfortunately for me Gaga has made it so that when I screenshot I get a black screen so I can’t capture the translation there. But I will just write it down:

“I can handle it…I think I can…I’m fine,”

It reminds me of Pat saying “it’s okay, it’ll pass”

Both of them are lying, but Pat was detached from his feelings when he lied whereas Jeng is consumed by his.

But this is not about Jeng, this is about Pat so we are gonna cut to Jen’s going away party.

Pat is wearing the same outfit as when Jeng confessed and Pat rejected Jeng so we know that Pat is coming in to this party riding a massive emotional wave, and trying to temper that storm. Because he doesn’t have time to process that right now, because this is Jen’s party, and because Ae sees Jen sulking and hands Pat the responsibility of talking with him:

Pat is gonna have to compartmentalize whatever feelings he is having to go handle Jen’s emotional state.

The significant beats I picked up on in this conversation with Jen are the following:

Pat saying he wished he had a home in another province to go back to

Jen saying it is a safe zone for him

Pat having the reality of being able to run away from his problems immediately crushed by Jen saying that he cannot pursue his dreams back home because everything is in Bangkok

Pat having the reality of being able to run away from his problems crushed again when Jen says “Well, everything is here and look at how bad it is”

Jen brushes off his own feelings and asks Pat how he is doing, and here is the crucial part. Huge shout out to @lurkingshan for pointing this out in a conversation we had last night. Jen is quitting. Jen is no longer a coworker to Pat. Pat has someone who is gay, who is no longer going to be involved in company business, and who is moving home to another province and therefore Pat can feel comfortable being honest because Jen is about to become very detached from his world.

“I don’t know, I’m very confused,” Pat says. And this is the first time he has voiced an emotion since he told Jeng he was sad about his break up with Put.

“Is it Mr. Jeng?”

Pat has his shit rocked by Jen asking him about Jeng so casually, like it is no big deal, like he is In The Know. Pat has really been operating under the assumption that no one could tell he had a crush on Jeng.

“These two brothers are the same” Jen gets it. Jen is telling Pat he gets it, and he’s telling Pat that neither Jeng nor Pat have been slick.

“I don’t know, it’s like he’s playing with my feelings,”

And I know this line may be a point of confusion for some people, because we know that Jeng is being sincere. We know, as an audience, how much of a fucking simp Jeng is for Pat. Jeng would crawl on his hands and knees for Pat. Jeng would almost certainly renounce his family and his title and his wealth for Pat. And if we didn’t get that from the last eight episodes, we are explicitly told how much Jeng likes Pat immediately before this scene. Pat consumed every waking thought in Jeng’s head. WE know this. Pat does not.

Pat thinks Jeng is playing with his feelings because of what I outline earlier re: all the manipulation Pat has been through recently with MLM guy, with Put, and with the situations Jeng has manipulated to get them alone together.

Pat believes Jeng is too good to be true, because he’s moved past the stage in the office job where he was so burnt out, stressed out, and exploited that every piece of constructive criticism felt like a personal attack. Pat isn’t angry at his workplace anymore, and therefore isn’t channeling his rage at Jeng anymore, and therefore isn’t focusing on Jeng’s flaws anymore, and as a result thinks Jeng reciprocating Pat’s feelings is too good to be true. Also because Pat doesn’t trust himself. Pat doesn’t see the parts of himself that Jeng sees. Pat doesn’t know why Jeng would like hin because Pat doesn’t understand the ways in which Pat brings life and joy and play in to Jeng’s otherwise extremely serious, almost entirely work-related life.

But Jen will not let Pat have that. Jen is older, Jen is wiser, Jen is an outside, relatively neutral third party where Pat and Jeng are concerned (Jaab is a whole ‘nother story). Jen can understand where and how Jeng and Pat are good for each other, and as a result he is quick to tell Pat not to sell himself short.

And he gives one of the most important pieces of advice that he can give to Pat is that if Jeng truly likes him, he’d find a way to tell Pat.

This singular piece of advice is going to save their relationship I tell you.

Whatever hope, whatever resolve that Pat has to navigate this storm. To figure out if Jeng actually likes him, if Jeng will do something that convinces Pat that he’s serious is crushed the instant Chot tells Pat that Jeng resigned.

Now, those of us in the workforce should be screaming “FUCK YEAH!” because Jeng is taking the responsible adult route by stepping away from his role as boss. Which, if Pat and Jeng were to get together would eliminate any conflict of interest, and if Pat and Jeng weren’t to get together would eliminate any fears Pat would have about Jeng a) harassing him b) firing him or c) retaliating for Pat’s previous rejection.

But…to Pat?! Well, he’s just ruined Jeng’s life. Jeng quit his job, from the company that he built. Pat understands that between Jeng’s position and Pat’s position, Pat is by far the more replaceable of the two. This is Jeng’s family’s company. Pat has realized that he fucked up. Pat is realizing that Jeng is not overstepping boundaries because he is trying to harass Pat, but because he has genuine feelings because the second Pat said to keep it work-only Jeng up and fucking left so that Pat wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him around.

Pat is thinking, Pat is contemplating, Pat is dissociating, and as he goes to wander like a zombie back to his house at the end of the day, SURPRISE Happy Birthday, Pat! Mr. Jeng baked you a cake!

AND THIS IS A LOT TO PROCESS CONSIDERING THAT PAT FORGOT HIS OWN BIRTHDAY! But Jeng remembered, and Jeng made something for him. I would love to go on and on and on and on about the lighting in this scene, but this write up is, as usual, far far longer than I anticipated, and a lot of the lighting details were covered in this phenomenal post by @istanchan

So we are just gonna go with the major take away from this scene. The flame is ignited between Pat and Jeng, Jeng is out of focus, and when Pat blows out the candles, extinguishing the flame, Jeng comes in to focus. Pat is now forced to face his feelings about Jeng, in a way he has been desperately trying to suppress for however long of a time frame this episode covers.

Pat goes home, yet again dissociating because the second that he reattaches his consciousness to his body he knows its fucking over.

And at this point, Pat has exhausted all avenues. He tried to get over his initial crush on Jeng by dating Put, and realized that he was not actually interested in that relationship. He tried to give himself distance and time to process his emotions immediately following the coming out incident, and was interrupted by his mother, he tried to brush off his feelings in the hope that they would pass, he returned to work and tried to get back into the groove of things under the safe assumption that Jeng would not be there, only to have Jeng show up. He asked Jeng to keep their interactions work related only to have Jeng hug him and tell him he really likes him, he started to have a conversation about his feelings with the only person who would understand, who is about to leave the province, and he maybe is feeling a bit better, and certainly more resolved. We can tell that also in the way that Pat approaches Jeng’s office after his talk with Jen, only to have the rug pulled out from under him with the update that Jeng has resigned.

He has tried and tried and tried to get over Jeng. He has tried and tried and tried to convince himself that Jeng can’t actually possibly like him back. This man has tried. And he can’t take it anymore. He sits down, his parents sing him happy birthday, they immediately pick up on the fact that Pat isn’t doing well, and they ask the fateful question:

And this is the first time Pat has really had to sit and process everything. This is the point where he settles down, both exhausted and having exhausted all other options…and everything hits at once.

“This is the year I forgot my own birthday” my life has been so busy and chaotic I have fully lost track of time (starting a new job, being exploited at new job, getting new boss, getting micromanaged by new boss, being hate crimed at work by my coworkers, best friend gets pregnant, working to get Forge client secured, trying to do 90% of the labor in a one sided relationship with Put, filming Forge commercial and trying to convince the Forge people that he is competent)

“I even forgot that you’d come back to see me every year,” I am a bad child for forgetting my parents would come to visit.

“It’s like I focused on everything except myself,” I have been avoiding my own feelings and focusing on others (i have been suppressing my feelings for Jeng, I have been trying to put those feelings elsewhere, I poured all my energy in to work and in to the MLM guy and in to Put)

“But I don’t know how to deal with this feeling,” I have tried fucking everything I know to manage my emotional state, which I know is already a weak spot of mine and something I am actively working on and nothing I have tried has brought me even remotely close to working through these emotions.

His parents immediately jump in to help, but the problem is Pat without context is not making a ton of sense, and the only thing they really have to latch on to is “I don’t know how to deal with this feeling” and his parents give him a hard truth.

“You can’t escape anywhere.”

It was something that Pat started to realize in his conversation with Jen, when he told Jen he wished he had a house to escape to, and Jen reminded him that he could have no dreams there. But Jen is heartbroken and fleeing from the bad things in his life, so it hits a little different when Pat’s parents, who he loves, who seem to generally have their lives together, who are divorced but still clearly get along, who love and care for one another despite no longer being married, and who are emotionally very mature, and shining examples to Pat of how to navigate emotional turmoil look right at him and say “you can’t escape this feeling,”

And Pat has a breakdown.

Which, in my opinion, makes complete and total sense and is incredibly justified considering everything that he has been through in recent months. Everything that he has been trying to navigate and manage while he is alone in another country, away from his family, with no friends to talk to because of the ways they are connected to him.

And doesn’t it just suck that you finally have the people who have supported you all your life look right at you and be unable to do anything but hold you through your tears. Physically he has support, but there is no way out of these emotions but through them.

This is the release, and he still has a lot of shit to sort out, but he’s had a good cry and he’s ready to press on. He goes shopping with Ae, and while he does still seem distracted, he is doing better, he is participating in conversation rather than fully dissociating, he is teasing her (“can i have that cake?”) so he is moving more towards a point of equilibrium. Ae has her baby, makes him an uncle, and that is enough to shake Pat out of the depression spiral he has been in because look at the amazing miracle of life he has just witnessed.

He returns home from another chaotic and exhausting evening (helping his bestie deliver her baby on the back of a bus #casual) and finds a package waiting for him.

An incredibly well utilized in-universe ad, of a snack Pat mentioned he liked once, in passing, months ago to Jeng. Jeng has always paid attention to Pat, and I don’t know how much attention Pat has allowed himself to pay to Jeng that would get him to realize that. It’s the aspect of this whole thing that Pat has not been ready or willing to acknowledge. Because the second he realizes that Jeng is gay, the depth of Jeng’s engagement and focus on Pat becomes a lot more clear.

Pat find the happy birthday note from Jeng and collapses on to the bed surrounded by the snacks to think about things.

To think, in particular, about what Jen said about Jeng finding ways to show he cares if he is serious.

It cuts to Jeng, who is being driven to the brink of madness, who has been trying to maintain distance, but needs more than life itself to let Pat know that he is serious. It has been days, days at least since he has last spoken to Pat, and he cannot stop thinking about the final thing Pat said to him “Why do you like me, it doesn’t make sense,”

Jeng sends this message

And the episode ends before we see Pat get that text. I am very excited to see his reaction when he reads that, surrounded by wasabi peas.

Now, maybe I am way way overanalyzing all of this because I will always come to Pat’s defense, maybe I am trying to convince people that if you just follow the lines and the lights and the body language everything you need to understand Pat is right there because there are so many parts of Pat that live in me, (though many that don’t), maybe I am blind to where the gaps in this episode rest when it comes to how they wrote Pat’s story, but I didn’t need more explicitly stated moments for Pat leading up to this breakdown because, well…

It makes sense to me.

(thank you to anyone who made it to the end, I recognize this is a long post even for me, haha oopsie. I would be unsurprised if I hit 10 hours total of work on this post between screen-shotting, double checking scenes, and writing it)

#step by step #step by step the series #step by step analysis post #step by step meta #step by step discussion #jengpat #manben #ben bunyapol #man trisanu #dee hup house #jeng x pat #gonna have to start getting an editor on my posts or something to tone them down #damn #at least y'all are well trained in reading lots of text a la fanfiction style #maybe i can fool you in to reading this whole thing

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 7 months

Text

Well I guess the oneshot did the trick, because I finished a chapter.

Still not exactly doing great, but this helps a little.

And this overdramatic SOB just makes me swoon a completely normal amount.

don't stare at the nipple don't stare at the nipple don't stare at the oh dear gods honestly how dare he

Hearing Problems

LA!Mihawk x OC

Previous Chapter Link

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Chapter 3: Solidarity

Trigger Warnings: Mild Suicidal Ideation

Wordcount: 2.4k

Tags: Slow-burn, Enemies to Lovers, eventually NSFW, uh, if I think of more I'll add them or something

People Tags: @mihawksdemoness also thank you for asking to be tagged like I am in awe thank you so much???

After having her sloop sunk by the Buggy Pirates and losing most of her worldly possessions in the process, the normally solitary mercenary Karimi Lionne finds herself teaming up with the rag-tag little crew that is the Strawhat Pirates to defeat them. She bonds with them far more quickly than she bargained for, and that quickly turns into a problem for the Kiku Kiku no Mi devil fruit user when she learns of Nami's plans to leave them high and dry, and Zoro issues a challenge at Baratie that he very likely won't live long enough to regret.

The stars were beautiful tonight, if nothing else.

Karimi did her best to focus her mind in on that, despite how they seemed to swim and swirl a bit in her vision, how her thoughts swam and swirled in her head.

How the image of his eyes seemed to have burned straight into her eyelids, to the point that she didn't want to do so much as blink.

How his words had burned into her ears, and she could still hear the threat behind them echoing around in her skull, hear his voice as clearly as if she were listening in on his thoughts at that very moment. Tomorrow, tomorrow morning, after the duel.

A heartbeat or a bloodied corpse.

Her own heartbeat raced into an absolute frenzy.

Part of her screamed loudly, so loudly that she could just slip herself right over the edge of the dock, to just slip into the chill of the ocean and sink down and never come up again.

She pulled her feet out of the water immediately, sitting straight up and wrapping her arms around her bended knees, shuddering the slightest bit.

His words. Not only his words, but his anger rang clear as day through her while she stared out at the night sky, out toward the horizon, wishing she could very far closer to it than to where she was right now.

There was every chance that she had just lessened Zoro's chances of survival rather than improve them.

She lowered her forehead to her knees. As the saltwater dripped away and her skin dried, the chatter of every person within a fifty food radius slowly began to raise in volume in her head. Closing her eyes a bit tighter, pulling her legs in closer to her chest, she bit her lip and focused.

Focused every ounce of her energy to making it stop.

Her own thoughts were too much right now, much less everyone else's.

And slowly—so slowly, but oh, so welcome, the silence came again. An audible sigh trembled its way through her lips.

Busoshoku haki. It wasn't fool-proof, but it worked when she needed it to. For the ten years she had spent with her grandmother, the older woman had employed it constantly to suppress Karimi's devil fruit abilities, but Karimi herself wasn't as proficient. She had less than two years of training in the art, from her time traveling with the Red Hair Pirates six years ago, and she couldn't do much with it except dampen her own abilities.

If she focused it in just behind her ears, focused it down to a pair of small points of energy and connected them together through her skull, then she had the sweet, sweet silence she so craved, that she could manage on her own on a day to day basis.

"So what did he have to say?"

The sound of Nami's voice, nearly monotone but with an edge of accusation to it, startled Karimi so badly that she nearly did slip off the dock.

"God dammit—"

Dear gods why couldn't everyone just leave her alone?

"Hey—!" Karimi grew instantly tense when she felt Nami's hand on her shoulder, steadying her before she could topple over. "Shit. Was it that bad?"

The accusatory note in her voice dropped away almost in an instant, and Karimi could only scoff, shaking her head. Her eyes briefly cut toward Nami when the younger girl took a seat beside her on the docks, looking at her in a mix of alarm and caution. "It wasn't great, no," she said shortly. Karimi shook her head, staring down at the gentle waves that rocked against the floating dock. She sighed, pressing her palm into one of her eyes against the sharp pain of a headache forming behind them. "You ever just want to...say the hell with it all and toss yourself in the ocean and be done?"

"Ah...yeah...." She noticed Nami reach around her and subtly pull the wine bottle away from her side. "Maybe we should just get back to Merry and—"

"I know what you're planning."

Nami froze in an instant at that, her eyes glued to Karimi's for a moment when she turned her head and looked over.

"I don't know what you're—"

"Don't bother," said Karimi, waving a dismissive hand, her voice still slurred. "You're leaving. And I get it. I would too in your shoes. If I could...." She swallowed. Exhaled a slow sigh that puffed out her cheeks slightly, looking at Nami, at how her brows furrowed. "I lost...everything ten years ago. My village. My friends. My...family." She shook her head. "I'd trade anything to have that back. So I get it. You'd trade everything too. But, look."

Nami froze when Karimi turned, reached out and put her hands on her shoulders, leveling her gaze with with hers.

"That—scrawny little shit back there in his silly little hat," she went on, nodding back toward the Merry, "I guarantee, if you go, he's going to chase you down, and he's going to do everything in his power to help whether you want him to or not, because that's what he does. So you need to think carefully about how you're going to proceed with this."

Nami stared at her for several long seconds, her eyes wide as saucers, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock.

And then she shoved Karimi's hands off of her shoulders, shifting away several inches. "How—how the hell do you—no." She shook her head, reaching down to her bag at her side. "No, why—" Karimi's eyes shifted down as Nami pulled an old, yellowed wanted poster out of her bag. "Why are you lying to everyone? Two billion berries?"

Karimi's gaze became glued to the wanted poster, and when she reached out to grab it, Nami pulled it back, holding it over her head.

"You think you can just, what, dye your hair a little darker, and no one's going to notice?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "Maybe the guys won't, but I'm not an idiot."

Karimi barely even heard her, her eyes glued to the paper flapping in the light breeze over their heads. She had kept that poster for the better part of eight years, kept it tucked away with her belongings, tucked under her pillow wherever she slept. She lowered her gaze, leveling her eyes with Nami's as she spoke through her teeth.

"Give. It. Back."

Nami's resolve faltered a little for a moment—but just long enough of a moment. Karimi was able to lash out her hand and grab the poster, pulling it to her chest and sighing slowly, her eyes slipping shut.

"Th...that's...not you?" she said slowly, and Karimi shook her head.

"It's my grandmother." She carefully folded the poster without looking at it again, slipping it into her pocket. "And it's the only picture I have of her." She glanced at Nami, trying hard, incredibly hard not to be mad at the girl as her gaze softened. "She was murdered right in front of me ten years ago."

"I..." She swallowed. "I'm...so sorry, I..." She shook her head. "You look...you could be her *twin*, I thought—" Once more, Nami shook her head, looking Karimi up and down quickly. "How do you know about my village?" she asked finally.

"I know a little about a lot of things." Karimi set to tugging her socks back on. "I...have a devil fruit ability. I can hear thoughts. I keep it suppressed the majority of the time because it would frankly drive me insane if I didn't, but..." She glanced at Nami, frowning apologetically. "When we fought with Kuro, I had to release it. I can't control what I hear. And your thoughts were a lot louder than anyone else's."

Nami swallowed, blinking several times. "You...can hear thoughts," she repeated quietly. Karimi shrugged a shoulder and gave a quick nod, pulling one if her boots back on now. "Th...that's..."

"Something that would have made you all a lot less likely to have me along had you known it off the rip," Karimi finished for her, sighing. Maybe not Luffy—it was incredibly likely he would have been in awe. "And for the record, I'm not using it right now. Shanks was able to help me learn to control it to some extent."

Nami nodded, standing with Karimi as she finished tugging her other boot on. "You...said your village was destroyed." She cut her eyes at Nami, taking her bottle of wine back when the orange-haired girl offered it to her. "Was it pirates?"

"Marines." She took a swig from the bottle, slinging an arm around Nami's shoulders. "There's good eggs and bad eggs in every batch. I don't like Marines on the whole, but there are a few exceptions. You don't like pirates," she went on as they crossed dock, "but I think you've seen enough to know that there are a few exceptions."

Karimi offered her the bottle of wine with a wry smile, and Nami took it, taking a drink from it. "Yeah," she agreed, staring up at the Merry as they stopped in front of it. "I guess there are."

Nami had to help her back onto the ship—she had definitely gone way too heavy on the drink tonight, something she rarely did and was sure she would be embarrassed about in the morning, but right now she didn't care. Right now, falling back into an empty hammock and tucking her hands behind her neck, all Karimi cared to give her time and attention to was the sweet release of sleep.

Hopefully a dreamless sleep, devoid of the annoyances and terrors of the waking world.

Hopefully devoid of her harebrained promise to serve a surly pirate warlord if he would leave an acquaintance she had met literal days ago alive.

Devoid of the heartbroken look on Luffy's face when he realized Nami was leaving—when he realized she was leaving.

Empty, dreamless, not a single thought of the face on the wanted poster she carried with her everywhere, the face she had watched break into desperate tears ten years ago, beg to let her granddaughter live, just let her live, she would give anything, she didn't care if they killed her—

Karimi's eyes snapped open.

And then they shut in an instant against the persistent and painful rays of the morning sun pouring throughtthe rounded window across from her.

As she did every morning, she started to focus, to employ her haki and drown out the mindless chatter in her head...and then she stopped.

She stooped as she heard the desperation, the horror outside the ship.

And she scrambled to her feet, stumbling out of the cabin to lean against the railing around the deck if the ship.

Just in time to watch Mihawk draw his sword from his back.

To watch him pull it down in a clean slash.

Watch Zoro fall to his knees and onto his back.

She sank down onto her own knees, exhaling a slow sigh, eyes wide and hands gripping at the railing around the deck. There, then, was her answer. There, in the form of one if her newest friends bleeding out in front of Baratie, clinging to the edge of life, certain to slip away at any moment.

"I hope you've already packed your things."

And she froze.

Karimi lifted her head slowly, meeting his yellow eyes as he stood over her, his arms crossed. Her brow furrowed as she glanced out toward the deck of Baratie, watching as the others surrounded Zoro, trying to keep him awake. She looked back at Mihawk, gritting her teeth.

"He's almost dead, you—"

"Almost, yes." He leaned his elbow against the railing if the ship. "And if he can't survive that, then he wasn't worth my time to begin with."

Oh.

Oh, the complete bastard.

He had left Zoro clinging to the edge of life, and he still expected her to keep up her end of the deal.

And yet...she had set the terms herself.

"F...fine," she said, pulling herself to her feet. She cast a glance down toward the docks, her heart clenching in her chest at the sight of Luffy kneeling over his first mate. "Just...let me say goodbye."

"Are you that close with them?" he asked, and the amusement in his tone was enough to boil her blood. She cast a glare over her shoulder in his direction, and he simply shrugged a shoulder. "Fine. You have an hour." He took a step closer, seizing her by her chin, his eyes searching hers for any sign of defiance. "Gather your belongings..." He leaned in closer, his forehead barely touching hers, the wide brim of his hat shadowing both of their faces. "...and your wits, and we'll be off."

His amusement was clear to her in more than just his gaze or his tone—Karimi could hear it in his head, hear just how pleased he was with himself as he left the ship.

And she didn't want to hear it for another second.

Karimi quickly employed her haki, shoved her walls up as high they could go, and watched him head down the docks, lowering herself back down to her knees to watch him through the railing. Her heart pounding, her bottom lip trembling, she knew she had no choice.

She had made her her bed amd now she had no choice to lie in it.

She had told him she would be his...and now she was.

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