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c0wgurlz · 7 months

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Trouble On My Left, Trouble On My Right

Chapter 2: Operation, Find Caroline a Cowboy

gif by @bodybebangin

Kayce Dutton x Reader/OC - Friends to Lovers

He doesn't even have to take half a step to catch back up with me. “Come on Caroline, you know I’m just teasing you.” He pats my back as a peace offering. “Although,” Okay, maybe not. “I have it on good authority that I can please the ladies, so save a horse and all that.” Winking flirtatiously, he belts out a laugh, finally removing his hand from my bare back. And what a blessing that is, because if he had kept touching me while talking about… that, I’d be liable to combust.

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Chapter 1

Sorry it took me so long to update! I'm a teacher and my free time is fairly limited. We're at a point in the school year now though that is much less stressful, so expect fairly regular updates, at least for the next few chapters.

Comments are so appreciated! I'd love to know what ya'll like and what ya'll think I could improve upon.

As always: I do not own Yellowstone (2018) or any of its characters. This work is not monetized.

THIS FIC IS CROSSPOSTED TO AO3. It is not posted to any other site. I am lookingcold on AO3 and that is all. I do not give permission for my work to be posted by others to any other platform.

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We don’t talk for the rest of the walk, but the silence is comfortable, like it always is between us. Kayce and I have never asked too much of each other, have always read each others’ moods as if they were our own, and that apparently hasn’t changed from the five years we’ve spent apart. It’s glaringly obvious to us both that neither is up for idle chit chat.

And while I’m really not up for small talk, the silence does, unfortunately, give me entirely too much time to overthink. What felt like such a natural decision, what felt like fulfilling my duty this morning, now feels foolhardy, and quite possibly too risky. Now this isn’t to say that I’m doubting my choice. Helping Mr. John, helping Kayce, helping the family and ranch that raised me, that picked up my pieces and glued me back together over and over, is a no brainer. Helping the people and the place I love most in the world feels as natural as breathing. But smoothing over a murder? That’s- No, I’m not doubting my choice, but I’m sure as hell doubting my sanity. When I said the Duttons needed a criminal defense lawyer, not a PR specialist, I wasn’t exaggerating. And if I’m being honest, this job feels more like that of an accessory than a public relations consult.

The front porch of the big house comes into view well before I’m ready. This dinner may be a reunion of sorts, but it’ll undoubtedly be a business meeting as well. Steeling my nerves for such talks doesn’t come quite as naturally to me as it once did. I feel like a knight with rusty armor. Weak at critical points, weak where it matters. More aptly, I feel like a little girl again, staring into the headlights of a train with no way to move and no way to stop it. I’m no coward, please don’t think that of me, but you know that feeling of impending doom? The one that makes your spine tingle and your stomach drop to your knees? Dread is probably the best word. That’s all I can feel as I stand at the bottom step of the Dutton’s porch.

I must hesitate for too long, or stare off into space, or look absolutely fucking terrified, because in a flash Kayce is back down the two steps he’d already taken and by my side. He doesn’t say anything, you’d think we’d taken a vow of silence, but just looks at me imploringly, resembling a curious puppy so much I almost crack a smile. And then Kacye, sweet Kayce, wraps his calloused hand around mine and tucks it against his chest, over his heart, before tipping his head, ushering me up the stairs. Once I’m half way up I get a fond, “Atta girl,” and what woman doesn’t love being praised like an obedient mare. I snort in response and kick out my foot to trip him, but only a little bit, on the last stair. Can’t have hime getting too full of himself.

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Dinner is nice, but rather awkward if I’m totally honest, mainly due to the fact that Beth and Jamie are in attendance. Let’s just say Gator clears the table well before dinner should truly be over. To my surprise, we don’t talk business, but rather I’m questioned, interrogated really, over what I’ve been up to the past five years and why haven’t I called and would it really kill me to send a text every few months. Beth is the one who leads this inquiry. Jamie and I were never particularly close, so he remains silent for the most part, and he leaves in a huff shortly after Beth throws a fork like it’s a trident directly at his forehead. Can’t say I blame him, even I can only handle so much of Beth when she’s at her worst.

My interrogation is blissfully, or so I thought, cut short by Mr. John when he asks, “So, ya’ll have any plans tonight?” He folds his napkin meticulously, trying to look nonchalant but missing the mark by a shameful amount. If I thought that feeling of dread had left me, I was wrong.

I narrow my eyes and prepare to defend myself against an interrogation of a different kind. Before I can grit out a suspicious, “No, why,” however, Beth pipes up. “Actually Daddy, since you asked,” at this she turns to me, “Caroline, how do you feel about heading into town and getting gloriously drunk and then gloriously fucked? You’ve been gone far too long, so you’ve got to be re-initiated, re-tainted if you will.” She looks me up and down, assessing. “You’re far too shiny, like a little cherub.”

Jesus Christ, I think she’s suggesting I fuck a townie. And Mary and Joseph I haven’t even so much as kissed someone since my divorce - ok, well maybe a peck or two here or there, but that’s besides the point. Here I was, so worried about talking business, about skirting around the subject of murder, only to be blindsided by an age old Dutton scheme. Operation: Find Caroline a Cowboy. Well if Beth thinks I’m about to get biblical with some rando she is absolutely, positively looney tunes. Now, how to communicate all of that in a tactful way? Taking a shallow breath, I part my lips and prepare to spout some placating, buzzword bullshit. Something along the lines of, “Well, as fun as that sounds, I’m actually really tired. Maybe later this weekend?” or “How about we just kick back in the bunkhouse tonight, save the salaciousess for this Saturday?” Before I can even utter a word though, Kayce butts in on my behalf.

“Do you maybe think you could save the corruption for later, Beth? I’ve already promised the boys that I’ll bring Caroline around for cards tonight.” While his voice is calm, casual even, Kayce gives himself away the moment he begins to bounce his leg, the tap tap tap of the heel of his boot loud in the otherwise quiet room. He’s uncomfortable, maybe even irritated, which aren’t we all at least a little bit when speaking to Beth, but there’s something else. A boyishness to his demeanor that I haven’t seen since high school. There’s also the fact that we had decidedly made zero plans to visit the bunkhouse tonight. So. Interesting.

I’m certainly not the only one to notice his odd shift in behavior, as Mr. John’s lips curl into a smirk and Beth’s face arranges inself into a pleased, self-satisfied expression. She frequently wears the look of someone who knows enough to destroy literally any given person’s life, but this look is more playful, one of a cat that’s pinned a mouse by its tail. Ignoring Kayce, she turns her attention back to me. “Caroline, sweetheart, don’t even think about screwing any of those cowboys. I know old habits die hard, but trust me when I say not a single one of them is worth a ride.” Now, to be clear, Beth knows, I know, Mr. John knows, and even Kayce knows that Beth has only ever screwed one of said cowboys out in that bunkhouse, still, her dig elicits the desired reaction from Kayce. And furthermore, she makes it clear that she’s not just trying to set me up with any old cowboy. I’m on to her. Operation: Find Caroline a Kayce.

With a cringe of disgust and a flushed face, he exclaims, “Fuck’s sake Beth, I’m not taking her out there to pimp her out.” He’s stopped smoothing the tablecloth, but now he’s exasperatedly running his hand through his still damp hair. Shit, Kayce. You think he’d have learned by now how to not play into Beth’s hand. Some people just have to learn the hard way I suppose.

Beth’s eyebrows lift and the corner of her mouth quirks. “Well you’re not a very good bestfriend then, are you?”

“Fuck you.” Kayce mutters, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms petulantlly.

“Maybe you should be saying that to her.” Beth points at me with her napkin, dropping it onto her plate as she rises from the table. “This has been fun. Possibly the best family dinner we’ve had all year.” Planting a kiss on Mr. John’s cheek she says, “Love you Daddy, have a drink with me later, will you? I think we should talk.” Then, rounding the table to me, she strokes my hair, almost motherly, “Caroline, sweetheart, clear your schedule Saturday. Me and you are going to paint the town red.” Finally, reaching Kayce, she sighs, “Goodnight, dummy. Let me know if you’d like help finding your balls.” And just like a tornado, she’s there wreaking havoc one moment, and gone the next.

The dining room is uncomfortably silent for a beat after she exits, until Mr. John blessedly breaks the awkwardness yet again. “Beth’s antics aside, I don’t think ya’ll should be going out anywhere tonight. We’ve got several important meetings lined up tomorrow morning and I need both of you sharp. Especially you Kayce, tomorrow will require you to tell a very particular version of events and I can’t risk you fucking that up. Alright, Son?”

Looking slightly cowed, Kayce nods his head in agreement. “Alright.”

Having determined this hell of a dinner has gone on long enough, I begin to make moves to excuse Kayce and myself. “Dinner was delicious Mr. John, thank you for having me. And thank you for such fine company.” I may be lying out of my ass, but my momma didn’t raise me to be rude.

Mr. John exhales a dry laugh and rises from the table. It’s moments like this where his and Beth’s resemblance is striking. “No need to thank me, honey. You’re family, you’re welcome at my table anytime.” Pushing in his chair he surveys Kayce and I with calculating eyes. “Why don’t you two head on home, you both look like you’ve been put through the wringer.”

Gee Mr. John, I wonder the hell why?

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Our walk back isn’t nearly as silent as our walk to the house. To say Kayce is pissed would be putting it lightly. “What in the actual fuck was all that? I mean, Beth was no surprise, but what shit is Dad trying to pull?”

“Kayce, your daddy barely said a word.” I’m more focused on the words left unsaid.

“He didn’t have to say anything Carrie, he sat there like a smug bastard and let Beth say it all for him.” Kayce may as well be pitching a fit the way he kicks at the ground, arms hugged tight to his chest like a wronged toddler. Honestly, the image is kind of amusing, so much so that I have to stifle a laugh. I must not do a good enough job, because I can feel the glare that Kayce shoots through the side of my head. “What?”

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, I’m quick to hide my growing grin. “Well first off, I’m gonna overlook the fact you pulled out my forbidden nickname. But second, do you remember that Christmas when we were thirteen? How Beth hung mistletoe from literally every single doorway, and how your daddy actually enforced the kissing rule?” I raise my eyebrows high, daring him to conveniently “forget” an awkward moment from our childhood as he often pretends to do.

The tips of his ears turn pink, but he sighs his agreement. “Yeah I remember, we must’ve kissed two dozen times. At the time I thought dying would’ve been a kinder fate.”

Asshole. I punch him in the arm, hard. “Wow. Thanks a lot. The sentiment is shared.” Rolling my eyes and checking for invisible dirt beneath my nails, I continue. “Anyways, what they’re doing now, Beth and your daddy, is just an enormous escalation of what they did then. I don’t think Mr. John will rest in his grave until I give him a grandbaby - with you.” I look at Kayce pointedly. It’s no secret that Mr. John, and Beth by extension, have been holding out hope that me and Kayce would fall madly in love and have lots of babies. When Kayce married Monica the teasing and hinting stopped, after all Mr. John would never disrespect their marriage in such a way, and when I married Judd it was almost like a fence went up between us, between myself and the Duttons that is, but now that both of our spouses are out of the picture? I’m certainly not surprised the trouble has started back up.

I expect Kayce to splutter and turn a darker shade of red. Despite his gruff exterior he’s always been reserved and easy to embarrass. He surprises me though when he mutters, “Maybe we should just give him what he wants then. Get him and Beth off our backs.”

I shock myself with the cackle that bursts its way out of my body. It bubbles out partly because of the utter glee I get from Kayce having a sense of humor for once and partly from the insanity of such a suggestion. “So you’re telling me, that your solution to getting your daddy and Beth to leave us alone, is to have a baby together? Yeah, because they definitely would have no interest in our love lives after a stunt like that.” I bump his hip with mine. “I can just hear Beth now, ‘I’m thinking a Fall wedding, you look horrible in bright colors and nobody wants to wear a suit in eighty-eight degree weather.’ We’d never hear the end of it.”

Kayce shrugs, shooting me a wry grin. “Hey, if we marry each other at least we’ll know what we’re getting into. No surprises.”

“Yeah, and no sex,” slips past my lips before I can swallow it down. What a stupid fucking thing to say. Good job Caroline, talk about fucking, or not fucking, your best friend some more why don’t you. Now I’m the one who’s blushing. Pink from the roots of my hair to my chest. And what a fatal mistake I’ve made by opening my fat mouth. My whole life I’ve had to be one step ahead of Kayce, embarrassing him before he can embarrass me worse, yet here I am giving him a golden opportunity.

His grin only widens. “I hate to break it to you Carrie, but to make a baby people have to have sex.” He slings an arm around my shoulders, adding insult to injury. “You know when a man loves a woman…”

I elbow him in the ribs before he can continue. He laughs at my embarrassment just as much as he groans from the pain. “Oh shut up.” Now I cross my arms, increasing my stride so that his arm falls from my shoulders.

He doesn’t even have to take half a step to catch back up with me. “Come on Caroline, you know I’m just teasing you.” He pats my back as a peace offering. “Although,” Okay, maybe not. “I have it on good authority that I can please the ladies, so save a horse and all that.” Winking flirtatiously, he belts out a laugh, finally removing his hand from my bare back. And what a blessing that is, because if he had kept touching me while talking about… that, I’d be liable to combust. If Kayce had always been shy and reserved in his day to day life, where I had been bright and obnoxious in mine, the topic of sex is where we switched places. I think calling myself a prude may be a tad harsh, but I certainly have never been one to broadcast my sexual business. Kayce on the other hand has never shied away from flirting, or kissing, or having sex in nearly every one of Mr. John’s pastures - you don’t get someone pregnant at nineteen by keeping it in your pants after all.

Playing the game I had with Kayce in the bathroom earlier today had felt safe, probably because I was the one in control, but this battle of wills feels altogether different, like someone is poking at an insecurity, at a bruise I didn’t even know I had. It’s confusing at best and humiliating at worst. Throwing his words back at him, I huff, “Now Kayce Dutton, you know this conversation is entirely improper, so I suggest you drop it. And also,” I whirl around on the step I’ve just taken. Thank God we’ve reached the foreman’s house because I don’t know how much longer I can participate in this back and forth before I’m forced to will myself out of existence. “Who says I’d even want to have a baby with you? Good authority or not. I know ya’ll’ve gotten new ranch hands since I’ve last been here, all of whom I haven’t gotten to size up yet. You never know, maybe one of them is babydaddy material.” I poke him firmly in the chest. “Don’t assume I haven’t got options.” Before Kayce can respond I storm up the remaining steps and into the house, kicking my boots off perhaps a bit too aggressively before striding into the kitchen. What I plan to do in the kitchen, I don’t know, but I still don’t know which room I’m staying in and the living room feels too cozy to stew in, so the kitchen it is.

Kayce saddles in much more calmly, but his fierce expression gives his true feelings away. “Are you serious?” He grunts, and if I wasn’t so embarrassed, mad, confused, hurt - for some reason that alludes me, I might have found the rocky timbre of his voice sexy.

“Serious about what?” I avoid his gaze petulantly, pouring myself a glass of water for a lack of anything better to do.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He groans, tipping his head back and rubbing at his eyes. “Are you really picking a fight over whether or not we should get imaginary married, have imaginary sex, and have an imaginary baby? You do hear how crazy that sounds?”

“So now I’m crazy?” My voice is cool, and serious, even though at this point I realize I’ve lost the argument. Even though I’ve realized there never should’ve been an argument in the first place.

Any fight Kayce had left in him drains away. I see the moment that it leaves his body, his eyes softening and his shoulders relaxing. “Caroline, honey, what’d I do?”

Almost as if there’s an invisible string connecting us, my body relaxes too. I blow out a breath, dump my water down the drain, and come to stand in front of him. No island between us. “You didn’t really do anything, just poked at a sore spot, that’s all.”

Sensing that this may be a conversation best saved for later, Kayce graciously changes the subject. Scratching at the back of his neck with one hand and gesturing towards the bathroom with the other he murmurs, “Well uh, if you still wanna have that spa night we should probably get going, we’ve got a early morning tomorrow and if I’m gonna let you take my spa virginity we’ve gotta do this thing right.” That earns him a hard exhale, the ghost of what could’ve been a laugh. But he must know not to expect much else, that I’m still nursing my bruised ego, because he carries on. “So why don’t I go get that bubble bath started and you can sort through your uh lotions and potions, decide on how best to pretty me up. And then maybe we could talk, about anything you want.” He begins to walk backwards, making his way towards the bathroom. It’s odd to hear the soft pad of his socked feet on the hardwood and not the click of his boots, but also kind of nice, endearing.

“Okay,” I breath, “Yeah, that’d be - that’d be nice.” I move to walk past him, into the hall where I’d left my bags. “I think you’ve got a bit of a sunburn so I’ll see if I’ve got an aloe mask for you. If you plan on putting yourself back on the market you’d better start taking care of your looks.”

I’m very purposefully facing away from him, so I don’t see the melancholy on his face so much as I hear it in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s likely to happen. My days of chasing tail are definitely over.” I don’t reply, not too keen on opening that can of worms further, and so an uncomfortable silence settles over us. It’s only broken when Kayce sighs, “Well, I’ll uh, I’ll be in the bathroom whenever you’re ready.”

Still looking down, I pause the mindless shuffling I’d been doing through my bags, “Alright, just give me a few minutes.” Having found the masks I was looking for well before now, I finally rise from out of my crouch, left knee popping in protest. “Like you said, you deserve a proper first spa night,” I turn my body to reveal my profile, pretending to check the label of the plastic tub in my hands, “I’ve gotta make sure I pull out all the stops. You know I don’t half ass anything.” Feeling generous, I finally offer him a small smile, turning to fully face him.

The relief in his eyes catches me off guard. “Don’t I know it.”

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I don’t know what I expected when Kayce said he’d go run a bubble bath. Too absorbed in my own thoughts, I didn’t consider that such an activity is typically done alone, certainly not with a friend, and even more certainly not with a totally platonic, albeit sexy, boy bestfriend. When I finally make my way into the bathroom however, I’m greeted by the sight of Kayce settled into the comically large clawfoot tub, chin tucked to his chest so that bubbles cling to his beard, eyes unfocused and contemplative. “Didn’t realize I invited Santa Claus.” I joke, at a loss for anything else to say. Too scared to say the wrong thing or ask the wrong question.

At the sound of my voice his head jerks up, the sudden movement sloshing water just shy of the lip of the tub. “Santa Claus?” He furrows his eyebrows. He really does look like a puppy.

“You’ve got bubbles,” I gesture to my chin, miming a full beard.

He chuckles, “Oh, yeah, I guess I just got bored and,” he shrugs, “I’ve gotten used to playing with Tate in the bath. You’re lucky I didn’t break out the bubble mohawk.”

“The bubble mohawk?” I giggle, “I don’t know, I think I’d like to see that actually. Just make sure I’ve got a camera on me when you do break it out, yeah?” Lining my “lotions and potions” up on the counter, I look away, still trying to figure out what exactly is going on here, or what Kayce expects me to do, to say.

He must sense my hesitancy because he volunteers, “I hope I got the water hot enough. I know how you women like to scorch your skin off, but I’m afraid I’m just a bit too delicate.” He’s pushed himself into a full sitting position now. The water pools just under his chest and it takes everything in me to meet his eyes.

“So we are taking a bath together then?” I huff. “Because that’s not weird at all.” Still, I move to pull my blouse up and over my head, clipping my hair up so that it no longer hangs down my back. “And if you’re not actively in pain, then no, you don’t have the water hot enough. But that’s alright, I’ll manage.”

Ignoring my comment about the water, his eyebrows furrow once again in confusion. “Why’s it weird? You’re the one that suggested it.”

“No. I didn’t.” I shoot some side eye at him, because who in their right mind would suggest such a thing. Hopping around to remove my socks before balling them up and tossing them into the hall so that they don’t get wet, I continue, “And it’s weird because usually when grown adults take a bath together it’s only because something else is gonna follow.”

Rolling his eyes, he insists, “Yes. You did. You said you normally take a bubble bath for spa nights, so here we are, taking a bubble bath. And it’s not weird. I’m wearing my underwear, and I assumed you’d wear yours too. It’s no different than going swimming together.” He sounds way too exasperated for a conversation that is this stupid.

Remember how I said Kayce and I have never had trouble reading each other? Yeah I take that back. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I sigh, “That was not a suggestion. That was a statement. But thank you for the clarification. Now before I literally die of embarrassment, would you like the lavender hair mask,” I forcefully lift one colorful jar into the air, and then another, “or the apple?”

Looking as fed up as I feel, Kayce responds gruffly, “The lavender.”

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i-love-invincible · 10 months

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Let's Talk About Atom Eve

Invincible Spoilers and Gore CW Abound! Please watch this incredible series... So who is ATOM EVE?

I would love to talk about this, but first we have to talk about character design in Invincible. The costumes, personalities, and heroes of Invincible are all self-referential. Take the Guardians of the Globe for instance, the first heroes we see on-screen.

We see these people, and IMMEDIATELY we get what they're about... even if these characters are new to us, we KNOW who they are. Flash, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, Batman, Green Lantern, all obvious parodies and fun little characters.

I'm sure your eyes will start glazing over once I go "blah blah subverting tropes blah blah absolute genius." but one thing that Invincible does very well is destroying the audience's connections with established superhero tropes (See the one million white boy video essayists talking about why Evil Superman is awesome.) The reason why the slaughter of the Guardians of the Globe in that fucking THREE MINUTE LONG SCENE is so surprising is because THEY ARE THE FUCKING JUSTICE LEAGUE (while the fight scene also conveniently tosses some casual shade to DC Comics.) Not only is it stunning since we have some frame of reference for how powerful they are, but also stunning because we have ALREADY become attached to these characters.

What follows are a couple real quotes from people I've shown the first episode to: "Oh Batman + Silver Surfer that's awesome!" "OH DUDE! FISH AQUAMAN" "Wonder Woman but she's a lesbian.. as she should be..." .. and all these people, the ones with the most superhero experience, were the ones all most taken aback by the ending.

So let's look at Eve.

At first glance, we get the same impression as a lot of the heroes we meet in Invincible: knockoff. In the same way Omniman and the entirety of the Guardians of the Globe are made to resemble the Superman and the Justice League so to does Atom Eve's costume and powers SCREAM token. She is the first female hero we meet that is Mark's age and perhaps more importantly (and more evident to a first-time viewer) she has some very clear themes of femininity. Such as her costume, which Doc Seismic callously points out in Episode 3 (neglecting the fact she designed her own costume)...

... as well as her name. "Atom Eve" is a combination of her ability to influence atoms and her middle name, but it is also a reference to Adam and Eve (see the bible.) She even has a female symbol with two revolving electrons around it emblazoned right on her damn shirt. So just like the Guardians of the Globe, her design is meant to carry a lot of weight and immediacy to the viewer, you see them and you understand who they are and what they stand for (or at least you think you do.)

So we've seen the way that the Guardians subvert our expectations so how does Eve diverge from the audience's first-impressions? Well for the first couple episodes she doesn't. You might even suspect her of being some one-dimensional, neglected and under-characterized female character (and to be honest if you were reading the comics you wouldn't be too far off...) until you start to see her dissatisfied with being a superhero. Her boyfriend cheats on her, the Teen Team breaks up, her parents consistently disrespect and talk down to her, she's misunderstood by the naive and silly Mark Grayson, and she struggles to find connection with anyone outside of when she's "beating up bad guys." She even goes as far as to reject a position in the Guardians of the Globe just to avoid her ex-boyfriend, despite her killer tryout.

She's frustrated by the frame that's been left for her, and realizes her powers enable her to do much more than beat up random villains. Her powers BY THE WAY, which up until now anyone could have mistaken for "shooting pink stuff," is actually atomic manipulation. She can just fucking rearrange matter to make anything she wants. So instead of being a superhero she fucks off to do things that ACTUALLY help people. Like idk she could be irrigating rivers and feeding the starving or like manufacturing free medicine or something. Atom Eve is a hero who is chronically misunderstood by literally everyone around her, even in the final episode Mark is under the impression Eve just stopped being a superhero to get away from her ex, parents, and school. However with the earth-shattering familial trauma that Mark goes through in the Season 1 finale, maybe they will have more in-common than either of them think.

and NOW there's a surprise ATOM EVE SPECIAL EPISODE! it shows off her origin story which goes even more in-depth into her trauma, and her loss of the only people who even WOULD be capable of understanding her. It also has my FAVORITE FIGHT SCENE OF ALL TIME!!! It was absolutely incredible

ps: omg why tf did they make her far-shot model have an x over the female symbol instead of the detailed electrons (crying emoji) cool i didnt proofread this okay i might do more of these okay bye, i love this show okay

#invincible #invincible show #atom eve #invincible spoilers #cw: gore

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ggomos-maribat · 8 months

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5 | on the sixteenth of April

Part 5 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

"Babsie."

No reply.

"Babs, did you look into it?"

Barbara's chin dropped to her fist as she scrolled through all the posts. She already had half the mind to mute out Tim but decided against it. Heaving out a big sigh, she replied, "No, I haven't. These posts were all made with fake accounts and I can't trace them. At all."

"All of the posts?"

"Well, no, just the ones that started out on the day the rumors blew up. The other accounts and stories are real—I double checked—but a handful were from glitchy accounts."

If she were to be honest, after hearing all about the case from Tim, Barbara expected them to solve it in a day or two. But this perspective of it was just as baffling, and she knew Tim himself couldn't find anything more than she could.

"It could be connected to her death . . . assuming those posts came from one person, then they must have something to do with Marinette's death, right?"

"Maybe," Barbara hummed absentmindedly. "Look, Tim, I've got loads of other work to do. I'll give it more time later; I'll tell you if I find something."

"Sure, thanks Babs. Jason says thanks too."

Barbara stared at her phone after the call, before it rang again.

***

Here lies Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a loving daughter, friend, our everyday Ladybug.

The headstone contained those simple words. Painted at the bottom was a branch of plum blossom, a symbol found in most of her creations. She was only one person among the many in the cemetery, but her death felt more real when it was marked on that rock. Tim bent down to place a single flower in front of it.

He glanced at Jason, wondering if he felt discomfort being in a place he had once crawled out of.

"At least she's resting," said Jason, gaze lowered. Tim nodded in agreement.

After just talking to Kagami Tsurugi and Luka Couffaine, Tim finally understood what Adrien meant by 'protective'. Both were stubbornly tight-lipped—Tsurugi being cold and stoic, while Luka being good at diverting to another topic. Suffice to say they didn't gain any useful information. Chloe's lead seemed to be on a roadblock for the meantime too.

Tim stared at the words. What had she been thinking in her last moments? Was her spirit craving for vengeance? What should they do?

"Did you know they symbolize perseverance?" Jason said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Plum blossoms. Also 'patience' and 'good health'," he replied, "That sounds like her."

Tim sighed. Yeah we could use that patience right now. "What if we're not meant to find out the truth?"

"But no matter how you look at it, it's a fishy case. Whoever covered this up, they deserve to be exposed."

Before Tim could think of a reply, they heard another set of footsteps was heading towards them. They came face-to-face with a tall young woman, with straight jet black hair cropped close to her neck and a long skirt that tickled the ground, along with thick boots. She, too, brought along flowers which she would offer to Marinette. They way she stood—stiff and straight, just with the right level of grace—reminded Tim of a professional dancer.

"Hello," the woman greeted quietly, "Who are you two?"

"Private consultants." Jason smoothly played the 'fake detective' card again. "We're here for an anonymous request for the reinvestigation of Marinette Dupain-Cheng's death."

The woman's eyes widened slightly. "I see," she murmured, gliding past them to lay down her own flowers.

Seeing her up close, the resemblance struck Tim immediately—though having a different style, this woman must be Juleka Couffaine, twin sister to the man they had just talked to earlier that day. He remembered that she worked as a professional model in Los Angeles.

"She was my classmate," Juleka said softly, "This is the only time I can visit home so I decided to stop by. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Tim and Jason shared a look. The former replied, "Did you notice anything strange before her death?"

She thought for a moment, and then shook her head slowly. "Sorry, I can't think of anything." She shifted from one foot to another. "By any chance . . . have you talked with Luka Couffaine? He and Marinette were close."

"We have but . . ."

She gave a wry smile. "Let me guess. Talking with him is like going around in circles?"

Tim nodded. "He's very fond of Marinette, but he was . . . hesitant about sharing."

Though 'hesitant' wasn't exactly the right word for it. More like 'closed off'?

"Luka is my brother actually. When Marinette died, he stopped playing music and hid everything she made for him," Juleka recounted grimly. "I tried to stop him, but he refused to talk to me at that time."

Tim didn't imagine Luka to be like that—in fact, he even talked about Juleka when their band got brought up. But then again, maybe his coldness had been because of another reason . . . Could Juleka have sided with Lila at one point?

She sighed. "To be honest, I think Luka changed because of it. He tries to hide it, and he's good at that, but he never vents it out to anyone."

"That's uh, a normal grief response."

"Come to think of it, there's one thing from Marinette that Luka kept," said Juleka. "He didn't bring it along with him though when he started going on his tours. It's in our room. Maybe it'll help with your investigation."

Tim pursed his lips. "I'm sorry miss . . . er . . ."

"Juleka. Juleka Couffaine."

"Right. Miss Couffaine, do you think it's a good idea to just hand us something that's your brother's?"

"I'm not giving it to you; I'm just letting you take a look. Before he left, Luka told me to 'take care of it' as if I wasn't also leaving." She crossed her arms. "So I don't think the secrecy of it matters to him. It's just that I can't make sense of it, and why it's the one thing Luka chose to keep."

"What do you mean?" asked Jason.

"I'll show you. Our houseboat's nearby."

Tim should've known better than to spontaneously agree to follow a stranger just for a potential clue, but he was getting curiouser by the minute. If Marinette left Luka something that points to her death, it could be important to shed light on all the mystery. Jason also looked convinced about it.

The Couffaine houseboat stuck out loudly in the street. The carefree design of its exterior strangely matched Juleka's reserved nature. She had them wait outside as she slipped into the abode to retrieve the so-called clue.

"Couffaine didn't tell us anything about that," Jason piped up.

"Luka Couffaine didn't tell us anything." Tim rolled his eyes. "We'll just have to take this chance and hope it gets us somewhere."

Juleka soon came back—

"A pouch?" Jason stared at the little crocheted piece in her hands. It was made of blue and purple threads, with a darker color forming a sort of pattern on it.

"She loved making handcrafted things." She carefully handed it to them. "It's not the pouch itself that's important. It's what's inside."

There's something inside this? It feels so light. Slowly, Tim pulled at the top of the pouch to let it open. Inside was a small pink piece of paper, bearing a doodle that looked like a box with a curled letter 'M' on it.

A memory flashed in his mind. Adrien's office. That strange box!

"Does it make sense to you?" Juleka's eyebrows knit together.

"I don't think so," Jason lied, putting it all back together and returning it to her. "Is it something Marinette owned?"

The woman bit her lip. "I think it was, but I don't remember it very well. It could be in her room, if you could visit the Dupain-Chengs' bakery."

But it's not in her room. It's with Adrien . . but why?

"We still appreciate your help," Tim consoled, "We'll look into it more, don't worry."

Her grip on the pouch tightened. Just a little. "Okay. I hope . . . I hope I can be useful this time."

***

"Sabrina, I love these cupcakes you brought!"

Sabrina tucked her hair behind her ear. "Really? I ordered a custom box for you. I thought you'd like it."

Saturday morning welcomed the two with pastries and coffee inside Lila's lavish apartment, which was currently being arranged by her staff for a shoot. Lila herself was clad in a bathrobe, with only part of her hair done.

The brunette picked up a delicately-made cupcake, holding it between her thumb and index. "So I was wondering by the way . . ."

"Hmm?"

"Remember when we had that reunion?" She propped her chin on her other hand. "I was just a little concerned about Chloe. Was she acting a bit strange to you?"

Sabrina's eyes widened as she remembered the reunion: Chloe's pale face, shaking hands. "Yeah, Chloe was acting weird. She kept looking at Adrien."

"What's up with that?"

Sabrina shook her head. "I don't know. She pulled him aside after but I couldn't hear what they were saying. She just kept pulling on him and asking him 'tell me, tell me', and she looked very anxious."

Lila blinked. "And how did Adrien react?"

Sabrina's expression darkened. "I don't know. He looked a bit mad, or annoyed maybe."

At first there was a calculating face on Lila, as if she was weighing something over. But then she transitioned into an airy laugh. "It's just Chloe being clingy as usual then! Poor Adrien . . ."

But Chloe's grown out of that phase, Sabrina wanted to protest. Usually, Chloe was calm and collected, and if she became visibly nervous then something must be wrong. But Sabrina couldn't think of anything that would set her off, so she kept quiet about it and didn't ask Chloe.

"Thanks for telling me, Sabrina, it's been at the back of my mind for ages." Lila smiled widely. "Speaking of Adrien, I think it's time I have a chat with him."

***

"And that's why we have to go back to Adrien and talk to him." Tim pressed the phone closer to his ear.

Dick hummed, feet propped up on a table in the Batcave. He'd been looking into the case himself on the side, sometimes asking for Damian's input as well. "How sure are you he'll talk or let you look into that box?"

"I think he'll be loose-lipped about it . . . I mean he wants to find out the truth, right? He won't deny us a clue!"

"Fine, but if he won't touch the subject, there's something else I want you to ask him."

"What is it?"

Dick tapped his pen against his cheek, looking at a photo on the screen. "There's one more person we haven't considered who might have insight on this case, who had these back and forth trips to Paris shortly after Marinette's death. I need you to ask Adrien about him."

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @toodaloo-kangaroo@missmadwoman @afanofmanyships@atomicherringpersonjudge-blog@wheredostarsgowhenyoudie

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #character death #major character death #angst #MDC is Dead #dc x miraculous #tw mentions of suicide #tw mention of death

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floating--goblin · 3 months

Text

so logamin

I feel like it's rightfully weird to a lot of people, considering the whole canon dynamic between them, but the way that I like to think about it is like

You have Logan. Orphan, thrust into the real world all too early, put in charge of an immense kingdom that only got united some 50 years prior. Only the second generation of Albion monarchy, with all too little wisdom left over from his predecessors, most of which were just mayors of Bowerstone. From what it looks like, his only guidance came from Walter-- who was all too busy with his little sibling-- and Reaver, who is... Reaver. Currently-busy-sucking-the-continent-dry, human sacrificer, industrialist extraordinaire, literal inventor of capitalism in Albion Reaver. Who tried to kill Logan's parent at least once, mind you.

And then you have Ben Finn-- sweet, idealist, loyal to a fault Ben Finn, whose allegiance you earn once and forever. You could break every promise, raze everything to the ground, leave thousands of innocents to die to the Darkness, and he's the only one who won't leave. Good, devoted, collared dog Ben Finn. Because he gets it-- you're trying to keep the country from crumbling. So what if he doesn't agree with your means to that end? He'll grit and bear. He knows all too well by now what sacrifice means and what the world will take from you, that life is short, that where he's from people don't live to half his age.

He knows what it's like to watch your parents die, to have what flimsy safety net you had unravel beneath you. He knows deep, undying love for his siblings, which Logan clearly has as well-- the same way little Ben Finn tried to protect his much older brothers with his peashooter and his scrawny kid fists, Logan tried to protect his sibling by keeping them locked up and in the dark about his work. Shelter them, bear the brunt of it, so others won't have to suffer. Same mentality as Ben.

When Logan has Major Swift executed, we get to see a rare glimpse of true wrath in Ben-- that was his father figure, the last thing he had resembling a family, ripped from him. He vows to make Logan suffer, advocates for his execution after the revolution; and yet, still fights by his side in the Battle for Albion, still stands by him at Walter's funeral without complaint, still tolerates his existence. A year passes in between the coup and the Battle-- do you think, in that time, he got to see Logan more? The Allies must've had meetings to strategize, and judging by his clothing Logan's been living in the castle; they couldn't have not interacted during that year.

Do you think, then, that Ben Finn-- self-sacrificial as he's always been, now having to see his best friend struggle to run the country and avoid falling into the same pitfalls Logan did-- looked at the disgraced former king and... Got it?

He's had comrades drop like flies left and right-- honest, hard-working people with families back home, who nonetheless were in it for the greater good-- and had to get back up, dust himself off and crack a joke for the sake of morale. He's lived in Bloodstone, a festering wound on the face of Albion, doing Avo knows what; death and decay have always followed in his footsteps, and yet he's chosen to take that as just another piece of the puzzle.

Because when you're talking about saving the world, you come to see people as distant, abstract notions. And he'll always resent that Logan was pushed to those depths of madness, but he can't not get the need to take extreme measures in the face of certain doom.

After all, his best friend, his Hero, is one step away from doing the same. And in their place, he might, too. For the greater good.

So he leaves Bowerstone. Tours the world once over, relives his youth-- which wasn't so long ago, but he feels ancient by now. He's quieter now perhaps, a little more skittish; more alert to a glint of something metal in the corner of his eye, more prepared to jump into action at the groaning of a wooden floor behind him. He comes back to Albion years later, maybe a little more gray and scruffy, but still Ben Finn. Despite everything, still good old Ben Finn. In a decade or so, tensions between Samarkand and Albion will be rising-- in another four or five, Darkness will descend upon Albion once more. New Heroes will have to be made.

But for now he's home, and his friend welcomes him with open arms-- gives him a room in the castle perhaps, a generous allowance, and the odd adventuring job to keep him from getting bored. Page is still down in the sewers, directing her energy toward workers' rights and children's education, building a system that'll ensure no one's left to rot in the street. Sabine's passed by now, perhaps, but the Dwellers have been given their lands back and are represented in the Court; as are the Aurorans, who have their own embassy by now. Kalin sends letters sometimes, discusses everything from philosophy to petty gossip with the Hero. She's delighted to hear Ben's back, invites him and the Hero over sometime, maybe for a festival-- You should see Aurora nowadays, Ben, it's like a phoenix risen from the ashes! the Hero might say. And it's true-- with the Darkness gone, the "City of Nightmares" has become anything but.

He takes it all in, and something's missing-- and it's not that he, personally, misses Logan, but Logan's absence is... impossible to ignore. Like a vital piece of the scenery that's been plucked out. The Hero probably doesn't mention it, but it's evident that it stings. And maybe Ben inquires about it one night, when it's evident the Hero would like to reminisce-- lets them talk about their childhood, about growing up to see Logan go from a timid, good-hearted boy to a monster. About the way he hid his encounter with the Crawler from everyone and sunk deeper and deeper into his paranoia, convinced that no one will believe him if he tells them what he's seen. Tormented by the vision and doomed not to be trusted, the Seer's curse.

And maybe Ben decides to leave one day-- sick of rescuing chickens from wells and children from trees, he decides to surprise his best friend. And so he tracks Logan down to whatever corner of the world he's cooped up in; most likely in the libraries of Samarkand, a lonely shadow from far away lands, that talks to no one, keeps his face covered, and seems to be seeking something ineffable in the hundreds upon hundreds of yellowed pages he devours each day. Ben's arrival startles him-- he, too, is more skittish these days. And when he sees that familiar face pulled up into a scowl, Logan's sure his end has come for him.

Instead, Ben invites him home. Talks about his sibling, the way they'll never admit it but have him on their mind every waking hour. He tells Logan this isn't forgiveness-- they aren't friends. But he gets it. And after so many years, it's time to let the dust settle. Everyone should come home.

They travel back together, take the long trek from province to province until they reach the coast of Samarkand, board a ship and set sail for Albion. They live off the same small hunt, wild berries and hardtack over the journey back, drink from the same battered old flask, huddle together during storms, ward off bandits side by side. For better or worse, they become comrades-- Ben talks at length around the nightly campfire to stay sane, and eventually Logan joins him. Shares some of his own stories, perhaps-- and that's how Ben discovers the former king never wanted to be a king at all, that he did it for the sake of his parent's legacy and that he clung desperately to his moral compass until his mind broke too far to be trusted. That he always dreamt of being a scholar, perhaps an alchemist or a craftsman of some sort. That he can recite hundreds of poems and epics, that he loves literature just as fiercely as Ben does.

That he'd do anything for his friends and family, no matter how big the sacrifice.

And Ben doesn't forgive him yet, can't do it-- but they reach Bowerstone, and he watches the Hero burst into tears at the sight of their brother, older and more disheveled but alive, and he can't help but think back to being small and helpless and praying every night that his brothers might somehow, through some miracle, return to him.

And maybe sometime down the line, Logan musters up the courage to approach Ben one night and apologize. He speaks quietly, there's a tremor in his voice that's hard to miss; but Ben can tell the apology was composed with care and rehearsed heavily beforehand, and it's thorough. Logan makes no demands, he recognizes he might never be forgiven; he'll live with that, it's the consequences of his own actions, for which he'll take responsibility. Still, he apologizes.

And maybe Ben, good old Ben Finn, who by this point has only been thrust further and further into misery each time he thought he'd come to understand the horrors of the universe, finds it in his heart to forgive him. It won't undo the damage, but... he gets it. There's an understanding that goes unspoken, that Logan's actions will never be forgotten-- but they can live with that, some way or another.

And maybe as time passes, they fall further and further into each other. It's not the youthful, blazing kind of love that's all butterflies in your stomach and grand gestures-- more like furtive glances over the dinner table, correspondence during absences, or sparring matches as an excuse to spend time together. It's slow, a quiet yearning that could be tuned out, but is all the sweeter for being there at all.

They're old by the time they fall into place-- or well, older than they ever thought they'd get. Thirties, fourties perhaps. Long life still ahead of them, but an ache in their bones that's aeons old. Doesn't matter anymore. They'll nurse the ache together.

By then, perhaps, they get a house far from the bustling city life; somewhere near Brightwood perhaps, where the land's decent for farming and the past is alive-- the good parts of it, at least. Somewhere they can wake up to fresh air and rustling leaves, keep a few animals, focus on writing. And The Life and Adventures of Benjamin Finn can come to a close in a way Ben never dared to imagine, one that'll have audiences satisfied:

I lived.

#fable #logan fable #ben finn #logamin #fable 3 #hi. behold my deranged ramblings

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dairyminki · 10 months

Note

woaahh congrats on 300 followers hun!! could I request jongho x reader fluff, maybe where he tells mc he loves her for the first time? that'd be lovely <33

✨️part of my 300 milestone event 🪄

title: i love hue

pairing: choi jongho x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship

warning/s: none

wc: 1.1k

a/n: tysm anne!! hopefully, i was able to deliver your request well ahhh <33

* reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!

—

It was a lovely Saturday for Jongho—he's sitting on a wooden stool, an easel stands in front of him holding the canvas he's currently painting on with a picture of—wait what is he exactly painting?

He's quite not sure, to be honest, because as he let his dominant hand gently drag the paintbrush across the canvas, he can't stop himself from sneaking a few glances at you every chance he gets.

By chance, he means, everytime you're not looking in his direction, but rather, you're smiling down and talking to the young students who enrolled in your weekend art class.

Jongho looks back at his own painting, tries to scrutinize it and then look back at the paintings done by the others, in an attempt to compare them. He then chews his lip, frowning, when he realizes that his painting sucks and that the kids around him are doing a much better job at painting fruits, houses, and stuff.

One kid was even painting a unicorn with a carrot horn. Also, Jongho thinks he just saw someone painting a yellow sun with eyes, nose, and lips.

Jongho didn't know painting pictures would be this frustrating, especially for an adult like him. Has he lost the power of creativity or imagination already? Because the beach he imagined is way off better looking in his head than on the canvas in front of him.

The more he looks at the blue paint with the thick shaky strokes he made in the center the more it mocks him in the face because it certainly isn't pleasing to the eye, instead, it looks like someone spilt milk in the middle of the ocean.

Jongho was about to throw the brush when he hears laughter behind him.

"Well, it certainly looks like you're having fun." He hears you say, and when he looks back, it was like he was staring at the sun itself.

How could someone look so radiant and resemble a goddess even when they're covered mostly in paint splatters?

"I didn't notice you there…" Jongho says, one of his hands rubbing at his nape, a shy smile decorating his lips.

"Maybe because you were so busy trying to fight your painting. If it helps, I think it looks pretty," You say, and Jongho knows that you meant it, though he can't help but scoff.

"Now, if I didn't know you all too well, I'd say you're just faking nice."

"It's a good thing you know me then." You smile at him, and Jongho senses you were about to say something else, but then one student was calling out to you for help.

Jongho only nods in understanding. Smiling, he says, "Go. Your student needs you, teacher Y/N."

"I'll be back later," You say, patting him on the shoulder before you left to attend to your student.

As soon as you left, Jongho doesn't even dare on going back to painting, he just simply puts the brush down and ends up looking at you who's now crouching to teach the kid how to paint Spiderman.

And then something happens, and it came to him like an eye opener.

"I love you, Miss Y/N," The kid exclaims, kissing your cheek after.

Jongho thought he'd be jealous, but it turns out that a kid stealing a kiss from you is the least of his worries. Because at that moment, all he could see was how your face lit up in joy, making you more radiant looking than just moments ago.

Before Jongho knew it, every single kid in the room was shouting the exact three words to you. His heart beats loudly at the sight of you, who looked like you were at your happiest.

And then Jongho comes to realize that he still hasn't said those words to you ever since you two ventured into a relationship. Well, he does remember you both coming to an agreement to take things slow. However, right now, he can't help but wonder when will he finally get the courage to say it to you because deep in his heart, he knows he does love you, more than anything.

—

"Thank you."

Jongho hears you say softly, so soft that he had to ask you to say it again.

"It's no big deal, actually. It was fun seeing you in your element," He says, squeezing your hand that was clinging to his left arm. The both of you were on your way back to your apartment, and you figured that walking would be a better option since it is a lovely day after all.

"You have no idea how confident you made me back there, really. I mean, you already know I'm not that good with kids right?"

Jongho feigns a gasp, "Really? Because it seemed to me like you were doing a pretty good job handling and teaching them, love," He says and stops walking to face you. "You did a great job today, Y/N. I mean it." Jongho smiles and gives you a few pats on the head.

And then you start to cry.

"I- why are you crying? I didn't even get to say I love you yet!" Jongho says in a panic that he doesn't even realize what he just blurted out in the first few seconds. But you did.

You heard it loud and clear.

"S-Say that again?" You said with a sniff.

"Say what?" Jongho chuckles awkwardly. "I didn't say anything."

When he attempts to look and walk away, you say, "Say it or I'll charge you with that art class earlier."

Hey that's not fair? Jongho thinks. You were the one who offered him to attend for free because you badly needed his support in the first place.

"You'll never let me live this down won't you, unless I say it again?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Jongho replies, almost sulkily, meanwhile, you're trying your best to suppress a smile.

"I've been really meaning to say this to you, but I didn't know when would be the perfect timing. And, uh, earlier, when that kid said it to you—"

While Jongho's explaining, your giggles reach his ears, and he can't help but eventually smile too, his nerves, starting to loosen up.

"I love you, Y/N, for quite a long time now," Jongho says, taking your hands in his. His eyes never left yours, patiently waiting for your reaction—if it will be just like when those kids said it you earlier or—oh.

You're crying, again.

"At this point, people will start to think like I'm being mean to you," Jongho chuckles, all the while he wipes your tears.

"Well, you are being mean to my heart, Choi Jongho. And for the record? I love you too."

#jongho x reader #cromernet #pirateeznet #k-labels #Hiraya-M #ateez x reader #jongho fluff #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #jongho imagines #jongho scenarios #ateez imagines #dairyminkiwrites #dairyminki_atzjh #dairyminki's 300 milestone event #m: ssaboala #💌—dream.with.elle

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rea-grimm · 1 month

Text

Dragon of Masyaf 4

During your training, you set your own mission. You knew Altair had a soft spot for you and to be honest you had a crush on him too. However, you needed to put all these emotions aside.

You knew very well that the Grandmaster was hiding something and it also concerned the underground passages and the room with the dragon. You didn't know how or why yet, but it was definitely there. And the grandmaster was the key.

It may have been drastic, but you didn't come up with any other solution. Your tactic was to be cool and professional with him, without any emotion, and wait and watch for him to make a mistake.

Once you weren't well and so you weren’t in the mood or anyone and you had the impression that Altair might lose his mind, to find out what was bothering you. You hoped it would be the same now. That he will make a mistake and lead you to the truth.

Your efforts were not long in coming. You were the first to start calling him master again. When you said that to him for the first time in a long time, he looked at you uncomprehendingly. However, when he saw that it was not a mistake, he was speechless.

After a few days, it was clear that he was annoyed. Although he tried to disguise it, all the inhabitants of Masyaf recognized it. However, it did not lead to any error. Yet.

And finally, after almost a month, it happened. What you've been waiting for so long. Altair sent word to Jerusalem. You knew that if it was an administration to Jerusalem, it was to the only person who could help him.

A few days later, when you were patrolling the castle gate almost every day, the expected guest finally arrived. Malik left his horse on the outskirts of the city and walked to Masyaf.

From there you watched him from afar. Instead of going to the study or Altair's room, he headed to the underground. You followed him there as well, being careful not to lose sight of him.

Malik had a torch with him, so you knew very well that you had reached the gate. He glanced over his shoulder before stepping through her. However, you were hidden behind a pillar the whole time and you were quite far away and without a torch. There was no way he could see you. He finally got through.

You walked over to the gate and listened. You recognized Altair's voice as he discussed something with Malik. However, you didn't understand them from this distance. The worst part was that you had no idea how far they were from the gate. What if they were right next door? You would reveal yourself that very soon.

You heard the voices start to drift away so you decided to take a peek inside. You crouched in the farthest corner from where the voices were least audible and peeked through the illusion. You haven't seen them anywhere. With that, you crawled inside and hid behind the golden relics. You alternated these hiding places and slowly approached the voices.

You were so close you could see them. Malik had his back to you and Altair couldn't see past him. You could already notice something strange about him. The fact that he had his hood off was strange in itself, but even stranger were the white gold horns sticking out of his head.

Moreover, now you could see better, how snow-white wings stuck out from his back, resembling the wings of a bat. Just like the time he caught you on a failed jump. Likewise, a long reptilian tail flicked from side to side behind him. By the looks of it, you'd guess it was a crocodile if it wasn't connected to your master.

"... Everything was fine before. Now I don't know why she's avoiding me and it's driving me crazy," Altair complained. So your plan worked.

"And did you try to talk to her?" Malik suggested, rubbing his chin.

"What would I say to her?" he growled in response. You wanted to hear better and leaned out a little more. As you leaned on your hand, the gold shifted under your weight and several coins rolled to the ground.

The two men immediately perked up and looked in your direction. Fortunately, you were already hidden again. Your heart was in your ears from all the adrenaline. You heard footsteps approaching. That was bad. You immediately moved to another shelter.

"Did someone follow you?" Altair asked as he inspected your previous stash.

"I don't know about anyone," he replied and walked over to him. Altair crouched down to exactly where you were hiding before he smiled conspiratorially.

"It doesn't matter," he replied surprisingly calmly and headed for your next hiding place. You had to hide somewhere else.

This is how you played cat and mouse until you ran out of places to run and you found yourself in a dead end. You hoped he wouldn't come after you, but he didn't.

Altair appeared directly in front of you, his wings making him appear wider and blocking any possibility of your escape. You cringed and couldn't take your eyes off of him. As if there was an image that you needed to burn in your memory.

The first thing you noticed was the bright golden eyes with narrowed pupils and then the white spots on his face which you later found out were scales.

Altair reached out and helped you to your feet. He then put his arm around your waist and led you to Malik. Before you knew it, he pulled you closer and hugged you from behind. His head rested on top of yours. You tried to squirm out of his grip, but it was in vain. He had tremendous strength.

"Leave him. You don't have to worry about anything. He won't do anything else, he just needs to calm down," Malik said as he saw you struggle.

"What's this about?" you asked with a furrowed brow as you calmed down.

“Nothing,” you heard Altair murmur into your hair.

"You should tell her. She deserves to know the truth. She's seen you like this before anyway," Malik tried to convince him. However, the dragon hugged you even more and you felt him dig into your hair even more.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Malik asked you with a sigh, trying to change tactics when he saw his friend refusing to speak.

"I suspected something was up. I always saw Altair sneaking in here. I knew if I ignored him, he would make a mistake," you explained curtly. You felt Altair squeeze you lightly before letting go again. As if he was showing you that he didn't like it.

“Smart. And besides, it worked for you," Rafiq praised you.

“I'm not sure about that,” you replied. They just caught you.

"I think if you've come this far, you deserve to know the truth," he said, looking at Altair to see if he wanted to speak. However, the dragon remained silent.

"As you can see, the novice here is a dragon. As such, he has his strengths and weaknesses. For example, hoarding things and a certain selfishness or possessiveness. He simply has to have what he likes with him. Which is you. And thanks to your plan, when you kept your distance, it was destroying him. Like a dragon, he wanted to have you with him, but in order not to reveal himself, he couldn't show it," he explained. At his words, the dragon hugged you tighter again. Like he's afraid you'll run away from him.

To be honest, it was a lot to absorb. It made sense, but until now you thought that dragons were just legends, fairy tales to scare little children.

"I think it's best if we all go to sleep. At least Y/N can get it out of her head," he said before turning to his friend. "Altair, don't you want to finally let her go? Let her breathe a little?" he asked him. You felt the dragon reluctantly obey him and let you go.

“I didn't mind,” you shrugged. If it made Altair feel better then why not?

“You shouldn't have said that out loud,” you heard Malik say before the dragon hugged you again.

“You sleep with me tonight,” the dragon murmured, kissing you between your ear and jaw.

After that, he took you in his arms and carried you like that to his room which was located in one of the highest towers in Masyaf. There you took off your gear, but you were still wearing your uniform. He undressed and the only thing left on were his pants.

You were lying in bed and he lay right next to you and hugged you from behind. You didn't even move. You closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but there was no sleep. No matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting to the assassin lying next to you.

You thought the dragon must have been asleep and you were the only one thinking too much when you felt his face brush against your hair before he lightly kissed you on the spot.

"I love you," he whispered almost inaudibly, but it was more than loud in the silence of the night. You didn't expect this. You turned around in his arms to look at him. The dragon looked unexpectedly vulnerable and you could see the desire in his eyes that shone in like two embers of coal.

"Altair…" you were about to tell him that you felt the same way when he stopped you.

"Don't say anything. I don't want to force you into anything. Let it go through your head," he said.

“I don't need to,” you closed your head and looked into his eyes. “I love you too,” you replied, feeling your cheeks burn from the confession.

"Are you serious?" he asked pulling you closer.

“Absolutely,” you replied with determination. At that, the dragon smiled and gently took your chin and leaned towards you. He kissed you on the lips carefully, as if he was afraid of hurting you. It was a short kiss, but it meant a lot.

When you pulled away, you laid down more comfortably right next to him. You placed a small kiss on his chest before closing your eyes. Altair was still hugging you and to top it off he covered you with his wing. You felt like he was protecting you from the whole world.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #altair x reader #altaïr ibn la'ahad #altair #dragon altair #dragon #dragon of masyaf

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22degreehalo · 2 months

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Sorry but I still haven't reblogged/posted anything about the whole. 'Nandor and Guillermo are Just Friends!!! Not ALL relationships need to be sexual!!!!! :)' thing because. hmmm. I just don't really. Like. I'm not even sure I summarised the point that was made correctly, you know? Or the words that were said? Communication, as a concept, being what it is.

Because. It, on the surface, sure SOUNDS like the sort of thing that would be said in a typically heteronormative sex-negative traditionally gendered television seriés. Which would make me quite mad!!! And would be a very easy post to make. 'This director said this, which is homophobic, and this is very easy to believe because to be honest most directors kind of are and we're all just used to that background radiation of Media that we never really thought consciously "Oh, this director is probably Homophobic."

But this show is. What We Do In The Shadows (2019).

A show in which the primary romantic relationship are openly pansexual, which comes up very frequently because they have an open relationship and casually speak about their extramarital liaisons and threesomes/orgies. Also, one of the main characters we're talking about is also canonically part of said liaisons, at least three times a week. And, y'know. "Coprophilia? Really?"

It's a show in which our two so intensely-shipped loverbirds are both canonically queer. And one, also canonically, has a crush on the other. While the other is famously reserved about his true feelings towards the former. And has a whole major character arc revolving around his romantic loneliness and search for a partner.

Is it offensive to the nature of friendship to believe that a gay man, and a pansexual man who canonically has sex with his friends, who said gay man has romantic feelings for, could have some sort of 'more than friends' relationship?

A show, might I add, in which a main character has a garden of bushes trimmed to resemble most beloved vulvas? Including that of his so esteemed dear mother?

I am afraid, dear reader, that at this point I am simply a little bit lost. I understand, you see, how to rail against hetero-blinded directors, how to vent wildly about writers who do not understand their own work. I know the script, now. I watched Supernatural.

But these events fail to produce that righteous fury within me. Instead, what I feel is a strange... dissociation? Like... am I reading, right now? Words? In the English language? Are any of us, really?

It is said that good art transports. Well, friends and fellow Nandermo truthers, I find myself abruptly akin to the soldiers of World War One, trenches high above our heads and an enemy wearing our own collective face. What is the point of this war? By what means do these bombs fly?

I'm not angry. I am a 1910s impoverished soldier about to invent existentialism and, friends, I am fuck bad at poetry.

#nandermo #wwdits #tbh my calling in life is that literally not one of my ships have ever once become inarguably canon #ALL of them are doomed to forever be purely fanon (99%+)#or to become sort??? of canon?????? in the most frustrating ways possible #yes I am including Destiel in that. imagine more of that kind. if possible.#I had thought that it was merely due to my bad taste and misfortune #but I am beginning to entertain the notion that I may actually be on a quite literal level cursed #fucking witches

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yukisdomain · 1 year

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If you ask me, the problems with jjk manga rn are the set up expectations and the lack of payoff - rant + how I'd end the manga if I were Gege

Firstly, at the beginning every character had their personal motivation and goals. Now the characters are either dead, aren't appearing in the manga or their entire focus and only goal is "stopping the unstoppable". Naturally, the thrill is gone because we know they can't.

Secondly, there were characters like Hana Kurusu and Angel who were supposed to serve bigger purpose but suddenly disappeared. Of course those two can still come back, but the way things have been up to this point is rather unnerving. Or the way we've been teased with Tsumiki and her relationship with Megumi, only for her character to be thrown away and for the siblings to not even meet up (and maybe never get to) since the time she's fallen into a comma.

And so on and so on. We've either been having questions from the beginning that can be answered but haven't, or those that can't be answered because the character has died - Yuki and her idea of breaking away from cursed energy. Then there are recent questions that have been answered almost immediately but have poor answers - Yorozu's motivation (girl, at least beat Sukuna up to some extent).

The only 'constant' is Yuuji's questionable existence and his conflict with Sukuna. Not an actual constant of course, but his development feels natural and his conflict with Sukuna is reaching its climax in the right way.

Don't get me wrong, character's motivation and goals should change as the situation calls for it, but not to the point in which character is just a poor resemblance of who they used to be/were supposed to be based on the teasers.

Maki is also a character whose character arc has been done well up to this point, but if her entire existence continues to revolve around being another Toji it's going to turn out quite disappointing.

To be honest I was hoping for things coming full circle BUT turning the right way this time:

The (star plasma) vessel - Yuuji (Megumi now apparently)

The one with heavenly restriction who kills the vessel (and Sukuna) - Maki (maybe Yuuji now? I don't know)

Also Kenjaku once mentioned that things they have created can't surpass them, and now I really wish Yuuji puts an end to them togethet with Choso (which is highly unlikely, in fact almost impossible, i know). It would serve as an echo of what Yuki and Choso attempted to do - Yuki and Yuuji both being those who escaped their fate as vessels.

And since those two can't fight Kenny, maybe they could outsmart them, beat them at their own game (again, can't see that happening, but those two deserve some peace from their unhinged creator). Or maybe Yuuta could help them.

However, Yuuji's conflict is with Sukuna right now, not Kenjaku. For aforementioned to happen he'd have to learn about his past and instead of accepting, hate the idea he is just being a cog (in Kenny's plans this time). He needs to accept the idea that he deserves to live just as much as anybody else, and SHOULD fight for his life - and in that way honor the way Kugisaki lived too. (If anybody forgot she asked Momo "Is your life just a job?!" while they were talking about Mai). Like Gojo said, no one is allowed to take youth away from young people.

From the start one od the themes of the manga has been accepting and enjoying one's life, and both Yuuji and Choso should accept theirs, redesign them and live for themselves.

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thebuttsmcgee · 5 months

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Okay! I've missed out on talking about the past few episodes but the show quite literally finished today as far as we know so it's a good as time as any I suppose to talk!

So yep. Spoilers for The Ghost and Molly Mcgee's possible series finale below!

So! To start off, Jinx vs the human world!

It was alright! Had good moments, bit of a lacking song near the end but the VILLAIN SONG? pretty damn good! Rob Cantor knows how to make a villain song and make them GOOD good. The rest wasn't bad, I liked Molly gaining her power from any kinda positivity, which is boosted by good talk of her forever friend, the Chen family scenes (well, besides that kinda. strange. scene about Mrs Chen asking ollie about kids but disregarding that) were really good!

There had been some light speculation about Geoff being the one who spooked Ruben as a kid but it was mostly in humor, so that ending up being true was neat! Definitely funny but also neat. It was also nice to see more of the Chen family coming to terms with actual ghost stuff and Ruben learning to chill with the ghost hate.

Jinx was a fun villain! Her VA did an amazing job as always! She stole the show in nearly every scene she was in and it was cool to see a ghost actually try to go up against the human world, as the title would suggest. She did go out in a pretty cheesey way but eh I don't really think it was bad, the show's based on friendship anyway.

The overall plot wasn't bad, it took Molly outta the picture for most of it but ya know I guess I do get why. At least it was in an actually reasonable way, by the villain actually being competent. It was cool to see how Ghosts are kinda invincible, but especially with the Chairman's robe, the og Chairman was a good showcase of that terrifying power but was cut short, meanwhile Scratch wasn't really all that a good showcase cause it's just Scratch, who iiiiis lazy lol.

It all felt kinda. Safe. If that makes sense. Like there wasn't really a moment where I felt in suspense. It was still enjoyable mostly, but I didn't really feel myself getting too worried about what could happen.

So yea, like a 6 or 7 outta 10 from me 👍.

Now! For the finale!!! WOO

THAT WAS AN 8 OR 9 BABEY!

I'll be honest, a good amount of S2 hasn't been as good as S1 for me. When S2 is good, it's REALLY good like 100% Molly or All in the Mind or Faint of Art. It's just that S1 was just SO good, some of S2 falls flat to me.

That said, The End felt like a season 1 episode to me cause THAT was sooooo good.

I felt actual stuff with most of the scenes, I was actually getting worried while Moll called Adia, I did wanna shed a tear when the truth hit Scratch and they used the exact same line read in Episode 1 when Moll had called Scratch to come back when he ran away MAN IT WAS ALL SO GOOD.

And the songs. MAN. The first one was good, a banger but nothing too extravagant, even if it's about being extravagant. Scratch's song tho? THAT SONG? ABSOLUTELY LOVE. That fucking hit me so hard, I legitimately wanted to cry a bit cause the lyrics, the delivery, the instrumentals, it was all so damn good! And the ending credits song being something that calls back to the usual end credits' theme, man that was so fucking good.

Here comes the heavy truth!

So the most popular theory ended up being true. Scratch is indeed, the Wraith of Todd, the background character who had small resemblances to Scratch.

Honestly I'm not too sure how to feel about it. It wasn't exactly shoved in our faces and wasn't quite hinted at, all that much unless you reaaaally paid attention to certain things. It wasn't completely outta nowhere, but also it did feel a bit, ehhh. The execution of it all was just superb tho, the voice deliveries, the animation, all of it was so well done. So I'm not entirely sure how to feel about it right now, other than the fact they executed it really well.

The whole scene with Moll and Scratch talking about what could happen when Todd is alive again, man. That hit. It hit good. That actually made me feel more nervousness than most of the previous episodes. Man what can I say. They just nailed it.

And the ultimate ending, with Todd having the personality of Scratch and his little quirks, yet supposedly not retaining his memories from when he wasn't in his human body. I say supposedly, cause tbh? His callbacks felt a bit on the nose, almost exactly like how Scratch would be when he was messing with Molly. He is a trickster at heart after all.

Can't say for sure if he doesn't or does remember cause who knows! Maybe he doesn't, maybe he does. For now tho, it seems as tho he doesn't.

And tbh, I still enjoy it.

Is it bittersweet? Yes. Extremely melancholic? YES. But it's done so well. It didn't feel underwhelming, it felt sad yet done so in the right way.

Everyone trying their best to get him to remember got me ngl lol that was. That was sad man.

Also I saw the Bill and Bob's ok adventure book I see yall tgamm crew.

Todd leaves to see the world and see Adia. Leaving Brighton, and Scratch's new family behind. Again, really bittersweet but done right. Todd is happy to live, and so is everyone else for him.

What a good ending. Bittersweet to a T.

Yes. Yes indeed a 9 for me!

Now as most of us know S3 might not happen. Who knows due to what, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't cause of fan demand, cause I'm p sure there was a lotta that for this show. And this was a fairly good way to send off the show! It had a pretty good run and it was usually up there with BCG, TOH and amphibia when discussing disney channel shows thatve come these past years, and for good reason.

I'll be honest. I'm kinda already missing it. I remember fondly of watching it for the first time and the next episodes, especially when it had aired near my nephews birthday and I had been wrapping his presents. I still enjoy listening to the few podcast talks and whatnot the crew have done for the show. It feels so. Sad. To know we'll probably never get a continuation of anything from this show. Not even a book. But all good things as they say.

If they do continue it tho, I wonder how it'd go. Probably trying to convince Todd to remember who he is and was, his time as a Wraith and as a Mcgee.

But who knows! All I can say is, thank you The Ghost and Molly Mcgee. It's been great. Really. Thank you all.

Love yall ❤️✌️

#The Ghost and Molly Mcgee #The Ghost and Molly Mcgee spoilers #TGAMM #tgamm spoilers #man. end of an era guys.#well BCG is still going thankfully but yknow. man.

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loving-family-poll · 5 months

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ok hold on lemme elaborate. first and foremost lemme preface this by saying that on a personal level the resemblance is superficial at best. when I say "parallel" I mean "there is a narrative parallel" not "stewy is similar to logan as a person". the second statement is truly nonsensical. HOWEVER... both stewy and logan represent an image of an american dream of a self-made man, and, more than that, seek to embody this image and Become it (to the detriment of their respective moral characters). logan is an immigrant that has built his business empire from nothing, he is the archetypal Self Made Capitalist. Stewy is an immigrant that has built a Perfect Life for himself from nothing, and HE seeks to embody spirit of a Newer capitalism (his area of work is not a part of the "real" economy, his job is to exercise the most predatory form of market pressure). both have fundamentally abandoned their humanity in the process, logan is supposedly "doing everything for his kids" while. not spending any meaningful time with them for the sake of the Business, and stewy is "always honest", but. his name is STEWY. this man has buried every aspect of his cultural identity for the sake of success. he kills the man he was yesterday every time he wakes up in the morning.

additionally, stewy is Positioned in the narrative as a mirror to logan. he is a mirror to tom (outsider to the family, metaphorial groom for one of the siblings), and, well. we all know about tom. additionally, we have the whole... dinner for winners thing. which positions stewy above kendall in the hierarchy of logan's approval, but, well, that will never mean anything because stewy is not white. nevertheless, stewy is a winner.

ADDITIONALLY, i strongly believe that kendall's love language is being led. he has to have someone giving him pointers and directions, we see it obviously with logan, when logan isn't there he asks rava for it, etc etc etc. logan himself recognizes it (through the words of brian cox), by describing the situation in the end of s1 as "kendall is under this corrupt influence of stewy" (yet another case of logan being a jealous jealous old man btw).

there is ALSO the aspect of food. stewy and logan are among the few characters that in this show eat, and eat confidently, whenever they want (another notable specimen is TOM). there are approximately 5 thousand essays written about food in succession, so I won't delve very deep, but. it's about a show of power. and about being able to take have and enjoy whatever they want.

returning briefly to the "kendall's love language is being led": all of kendall's relationships are in some way influenced by his relationship with logan. they are either a way to validate himself In Front of logan or they are about filling the logan-shaped hole in him. I strongly believe that stewy "I think you should do cocaine with me, despite the fact that you are very much in recovery right now" hosseini is capable of filling that hole.

anyway. I love stewy. I could talk about him forever. muah.

love, succ anon

Yeah I guess I just disagree with your analysis. For one, you're just incorrect about Stewy's origins - he isn't an immigrant, or if he is, his family must've immigrated when he was a young child. He certainly grew up in the U.S., we know he and Kendall were in at least university and high school together, and possibly knew each other even younger. And Stewy isn't self-made, he, like Kendall, was born into immense wealth. They are two rich boys who met as teens, did a ton of coke together, blew daddy's money (and each other 😉), and became lifelong besties and worsties. Also Stewy is positioned not as a mirror to any of the Roy's or Tom, but in contrast with them. He is neither a patriarch nor under the thumb of one, he couldn't give less of a shit about Logan, he is as far as we see a functional if shallow human being who's capable of normal relationships with others. Stewy doesn't really control or direct Kendall, he enables him, which the cocaine thing is an example of. I also disagree with the idea that Stewy is dishonest bc of his assimilation into white hegemony? That's not reflective of Stewy's character, but of the necessity of erasing personal identity and conforming to white supremacy in pursuit of weath. If anything, Logan and Stewy are opposites - the self-made industrialist patriarch of a bygone era vs. the new born-rich investor generation

#asks #not a poll

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enhabot · 1 year

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𝗹𝘂𝘃𝗯𝗼𝘁. ─ 25 [ don’t cry over spilled milkis. ] 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕. 2.1k ──────────

you’re nervously fidgeting on a park bench near your student accommodations when you spot yang jungwon running towards you. it’s only been a week since you’ve last seen him in-person; yet, for some reason, the palms of your hands have become incredibly clammy. you turn to the side and whip out a compact mirror.

you look like gaunt shit. well, it sort of makes sense considering that you haven’t had a good night’s rest ever since the event you’ve decided to dub ‘the friday night fiasco’.

“yn?” you turn to see a familiar face. jungwon doesn’t look so well himself. it’s almost as if he hadn’t been getting enough rest or nutrition— maybe, even light— in the past few days. you shoot him a look of deep concern, before noticing the round beads of sweat forming on the sides of his neck and forehead. “did you run here?” you ask him. “uhh, just a light jog. did you wait long?“ jungwon asks. you shake your head no, and beckon him to have a seat next to you. he hands you a can of milkis from a nearby vending machine. “thanks,” you smile at him but it feels a bit strained. you have the entire conversation mapped out in your mind: you’ll explain the situation with sunoo, and tell him that you haven’t been contacting him because you’ve been sorting out your own feelings regarding the situation. sure, you'd be concealing a few major details from him, but this is for the best. give it a few months and perhaps your feeling for him will subdue. it’s no big deal. this simple white lie is for the sake of everyone involved, you tell yourself.

still, you don’t feel entirely satisfied with this outcome.

the two of you sit in awkwardly quietude, occasionally taking sips from your respective cans. you notice that the scent surrounding the two of you closely resembles pork belly wraps and grilled beef intestine. in attempt to start a conversation, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “it smells… like meat?” you pause. one beat, two beats of silence pass. and then, heat proceeds to rise to jungwon’s face. “i came directly from dinner with sunghoon. we had barbecue, so…” he trails off and you resist the keen urge to slam your head onto concrete. the air feels even thicker with uneasy silence as you two break eye contact in attempt to recollect yourselves. so awkward.

you clear your throat, “so—“

“well— jungwon simultaneously begins his sentence before clamping his mouth shut. he laughs a little. “you go first.” suddenly, you’re reminiscent of the first proper conversation the two of you had. well, the first exchange the two of you had that wasn’t a dumb argument over some ludicrous misunderstanding. you chuckle a little, and jungwon looks relieved. well, at least the awkwardness has settled. your lips curl into a half-smile, “okay. well, i just…”

now what do i say? you begin to panic as days of mental preparation trickle down the drain. should i just be honest? “hey, i haven’t talked to you for like a week or two because my best friend of over five years confessed to me — but here’s the catch, i actually like you! we can stay friends even after this huge mess, right? and just ignore the fact that i have feelings for you.” fuck no! i can’t say that.you come to the realization that the rehearsed exchange with your bedroom wall sounded considerably better than the words loosely playing in your mind. you inhale, gripping onto the barely-touched soda can with your two hands. you feel the condensation seeping through the cracks between your fingers. it feels cold and a little uncomfortable. jungwon glances at you, anxiously. “yn—“

you groan. “this would be so much easier if i could just say ‘jungwon, i like you. i’ve liked you for awhile’,” you mutter. before you can realize that you were in fact thinking out loud, jungwon spits out his drink. “gross, dude!” you yelp, hurriedly handing him a few wrinkled restaurant napkins from your pocket. “what did you say?“ he sounds exasperated. you blink. wait, what did i just say?

the embarrassment that followed hits you like a ton of bricks. “oh, man. that’s not how this was supposed to go,” you utter. “you… like me?” jungwon looks at you, expression entirely dumbfounded. “you weren’t going to reject me?” he asks you. you gaze back at him with a similar level of disbelief. “reject you? why would i reject you, jungwon?” you respond, before pausing in realization.“wait a second. you like me, too?” you sputter.

“since when?” he suddenly questions.

“since what?” you’re flustered.

“since when have you liked me?”

“i mean, i always thought you were cute. we just kind of got off on the wrong foot, so i always denied being attracted to you — but that’s the not the point. i’ve liked you ever since we hung out at the han river.” you breathe in a sharp breath as you attempt to hide the growing crimson blushing to develop on the apples of your cheeks. you're mortified, to say the absolute least. this is most definitely not going as planned “okay, besides that!” your voice becomes an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak. “what about you?” you ask in an attempt to shift the spotlight away from yourself. jungwon pauses, and you can't tell if he's teasing you or if he's genuinely thinking about it. “what about me?” he responds. this cheeky fuckface. you have the strong urge to sock him in the stomach. “you like me? like, like? as in you wouldn’t mind holding my hand, or hugging me, or— other stuff…” other stuff? nice one.

“i thought it was pretty obvious that i like you too, yn.” jungwon huffs. your eyes widen so largely, you feel like they’re on the verge of bulging out of the sockets. he carefully takes a look at your face in amusement, and continues. “i like everything about you. i like how considerate you are, and how closely you pay attention to others. you have this comfortable presence that makes everyone around you feel at ease. thinking about you always puts this massive smile on my face and i absolutely love being with you, too.” jungwon’s sudden declaration of his feelings causes your entire body feels incredibly warm. it was almost as if someone lit a matchstick and set it ignite. you feel a swarm of butterflies consuming the space in your stomach. “jungwon, i—“

what about sunoo?

suddenly, you become incredibly conscious of the upright hair on your body as the follicles on your skin contract to form small goosebumps along your arms and legs. you’re looking for the right words to say but the growing lump wedged in your throat renders you speechless. you’re not plainly scared, you realize. you’re absolutely petrified. although a million thoughts rack your mind, the most prominent concern is whether you can pursue your feelings for jungwon with confidence knowing that it may hurt sunoo. all the pent-up ecstasy came to an instantaneous crash and burn with your next sentence. “but i feel guilty,” you whisper.

jungwon looks a little dazed, “guilty for what?” his voice is no louder than a whisper, his glistening eyes that shine vibrantly despite the dimmed twilight sky. “yn?” jungwon gently puts his hand on your shoulder, almost as if he’s attempting to rouse you out of your panicked distress. you feel yourself begin to shake. am i going to lose jungwon too? “i’m sorry. i thought i was ready to confront the situation. i guess this has been taking a bigger toll on me than i imagined.” you notice that jungwon has begun to study your expression. you have the urge to laugh off your tears and insist that you’re doing just about swimmingly, but you figure it’s a little too late to resort to that tactic. “it’s okay, take your time. there’s no rush, yeah?” you nod in response, “i’m sorry. i don’t really get myself right now, too. i’m all over the place — i mean, i just told you that i like you and now i’m crying my eyes out.”

you sigh. “i feel like i’m letting everyone down.” you fight back the plump, hot tears welling in the inner corners of your eyes. “i rejected sunoo the other day and i feel like shit. i don’t know, i don’t think i’m an angel or anything — but i thought that i was at least semi-perceptive of the people around me. i was so caught up with myself, i didn’t even realize that my best friend was hurting because of me. i just feel selfish, jungwon. i don’t know if i can be happy if it means it’ll be at the expense of sunoo’s happiness.” you had spent the past week supposedly reflecting on your own feelings, but you feel like you’ve been rudely shoved back to square one. all you can do is spew a bunch of self-deprecating crap and laugh bitterly.

“will you being unhappy make him any happier?” jungwon asks. you look up, eyes swollen nearly shut. you’re unable to answer. jungwon taps his chin, thoughtfully. “hear me out, okay? i’m not sunoo. so, i can’t really speak on his behalf, but he seems to cherish you a lot. i doubt someone who genuinely likes you would want you to feel this way. you aren’t at fault for not reciprocating his feelings, yn — you can’t control the way that you feel. you're trying to make all these sacrifices, but who exactly is going to benefit from them? it won't really change how you feel, or how sunoo feels. you're punishing yourself over something you have no real control over."

you allow his words to sink in. it feels like your face has been flushed with ice cold water. who exactly am i doing this for? you've been insistently reminding yourself it was for sunoo, but you're not so certain anymore. "sunoo... sunoo told me to still go after you, you know," you croak. "but even then, i still hesitated. i kept imagining our friendship as some scale; he always goes out of his way for me, so i should try and do something for him for once. if there was some sort of balance, maybe things would go back to normal. i never realized how counterproductive this would all be." you wipe your tears with the hem of your sleeve. "in some shitty way, maybe i'm just doing all of this to lift my sense of guilt for not being a better friend to sunoo. i felt so bad for not realizing that he had feelings for me, so i tried to make up for my mistakes even without him asking me. i’m overcompensating like an idiot.” you sigh, deeply. it wouldn’t change his feelings— nor would it change your lack thereof. "everyone has flaws, yn. you're not any less susceptible to them. that doesn’t make you an idiot. still, there are better ways to deal with this. ways that don't consist of you beating yourself up. you can't force your friendship with sunoo to go back to normal or turn back time— but you can try to mend things when he's ready. even then, i doubt sunoo is really upset at you. everyone seems like they just want to see you happy — including me."

“i know. i’m sorry i dragged you into this stupid mess.” jungwon sternly turns his head from side-to-side. “don’t apologize to me, yn," he replies. "i'm always here for you…” jungwon pauses mid-sentence. “but don't get me wrong or anything. i’m not saying all of this stuff to push you into starting something with me,” he adds. jungwon scratches the nape of his neck, and looks away. though, you can still spot the reddening tips of his ears. “let’s just take this at your pace. i don’t want to rush you into something that you aren’t prepared for. even if you decide that you don’t want to pursue anything more with me — i just want to see you prioritize your own happiness for once.”

“have you always been like this?” you ask. “like what?” jungwon looks puzzled, and you think his expression is pretty damn endearing. “patient. i mean, i kind of ghosted you without much explanation for a week — and now you’re offering to give me more time. aren’t you frustrated?” jungwon chortles in response. “jay usually tells me that i’m the impatient type,” he admits, sheepishly. “but i can wait if it’s for you. just promise to continue texting me and stuff — just so i know that you’re alive, of course.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, i promise.” you smile and he grins back.

almost as if the universe had comedically planned it in advance, your phone loudly chimes to the tune of kara’s honey. way to ruin the moment. you shuffle through your pockets, cursing at the conveniently terrible timing of your alarm. “shit, i gotta go. it’s almost curfew.” you aggressively slam your finger onto the snooze button, and quickly stand up. “i can walk you,” jungwon insists. “no, it’s alright. it’s super close by.” the jutted pout painted on jungwon’s lips makes you hesitant to leave. “we’ll see each other tomorrow on campus,” you remind him.

“i know.” jungwon shuffles from foot to foot. “see you tomorrow, then?” you quickly nod in response, “text me when you get home. bye, jungwon!” he waves, and you begrudgingly rush back to your dormitory. on your way back, you’re unable to beat the idiotically wide grin plastered across your face.

you deem that no matter how hard you resist the urge to fall for yang jungwon, he, along with his stupid dimpled smile, have already captured your heart.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆. ever since the day you accidentally screwed over yang jungwon’s course selection during freshmen year, you were pretty sure the guy disliked (if not absolutely hated) you. after several failed, uncomfortable attempts to get jungwon to forgive you, you settled that it would be much easier if the feelings remained mutual. thus, you avoided him at all costs! you treated him as if he had something along the lines of a nasty case of the bubonic plague. surprisingly, it went pretty well… until you ended up seated next to yang jungwon in a cramped lecture hall. oh boy, did i mention that you also have a group project to do with him? ah yes, these next three weeks will be fun.

𝗮𝗻. we got some communication (finally) hope you guys enjoyed this extra long chapter !! 😝😝

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 @xoxojayd3n @cosmiclele @echelhoops @chimiesspeach @yjwooon @yangyanghq @lumixen @instahann @sleepy-paws @plshhhhhhh @ncityy04 @n1k1tty @wonionie @youreverydayzebra @reallysmolrenjun @strawberryyukhei @studioreader @clear-colour-hair @alo-ehas @hobistigma @notrosemary @sunysunoo @whoe-dis @jayparkfromenhypen @k1ttyl1x @mikaa7 @ivswonie @ghjasksdk @enhyseob @jungw8ns @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @jooreneeee @april1538 @creamkwan @tlnyjoong @yenart @shotasgf @uhhalexwashere @ilyaera @lyra8 @wonietree @shawkneecaps @raindropsandroses1107 @curryramyeon @rikibae @jaemsluvr @jakesahi @papiibuprofen @milkycloudtyg @aernx [ re-opened ] ────────── [ 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃. | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁. | 𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ] ───

#enhypen imagines #enhypen smau #enha smau #jungwon x reader #enhypen scenarios #enha #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen social media au #enhypen social au #enhypen drabbles #enhypen timestamps #enhypen fic #kpop imagines #kpop sns au #kpop smau #kpop social media au #kpop social au

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365days365movies · 5 months

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Action January II: Captain Blood (1935)

Part One: By the Sword

Fun fact about me: I am a non-classically trained fencer.

By which I mean I went through formal training as a child (starting at 6 or 7), then continued it sporadically through my youth and college. Kept up with it a little after college, but I'm no longer a fencer. Still, it was a pretty prominent part of my life, and one of the more bougie facts about me (of which there are admittedly many; I am, for example, struggling to not type bourgeoisie). I look back on it fondly, but it's not for modern-day me.

Still, I've always had a soft spot for swashbucklers, especially in film. Sure, traditional épée fencing doesn't resemble your typical swashbuckling film fight, even a little bit. Usually, épée with the fencing gear is put in a movie or TV show to demonstrate that the character or establishment practicing it is high-class or rich. Instead, I suppose cinematic swashbuckling is more similar to sabre fencing, which has a larger target zone than épée fencing, and usually involves grander movements...but even then, I've never seen any sabre fencer swing from ropes and rafters like, well...

Zorro is a character that I've talked about before on this blog. I've also covered the swashbuckler briefly in that post, but let's get a little more comprehensive this time, shall we? Zorro is maybe the prototypical swashbuckler character, starting with Douglas Fairbanks' epic film The Mark of Zorro in 1920! Yeah, old as hell. He was daring, dashing, and debonair; dressed in black and fighting for justice to get the girl and save the day, armed with only a sword and his wit! The prototypical action hero! Throw in some great choreography and epic music, and voila! A swashbuckler! To put one together properly, we need:

A dashing hero, with devil-may-care attitude that fights for the moral right. If we're talking in DnD terms, you can call this person chaotic good alignment, usually. Swinging from the rafters, a sword in hand and often a smile on their face. And, of course, a romantic aim and goal.

Swordfighting. Kind of critical to the genre. Swashbucklers are films that use swordfights as the driver for the plot. While not every action sequence may involve a sword fight, the main hero is always either armed with their sword or looking for it. And then it's time for the climax, you better believe we've got a big-ass swordfight on our hands. The villain of the piece, at least one of them, should also have a sword in hand.

A sweeping score is a very typical piece of these films. Whether in the past or present, swashbuckling can't be done without an iconic leitmotif for the hero, and battle music times to the clashes of steel. Usually throw some brass or strings in there, and you have a swashbuckling score.

Now, of course, there are a lot of swashbucklers out there based on those definitions, and...yeah, there are a lot of swashbuckler films! While The Mark of Zorro is typically called the first swashbuckler, it's not the first film to involve narrative swordplay by any means. The Count of Monte Cristo (1908) is probably the first of those, but there are others like The Prisoner of Zenda or Kidnapped. You may also notice that some of the classic swashbucklers are based on classic literature, like those above, and like Cyrano de Bergerac, The Scarlet Pimpernel, The Man in the Iron Mask, and the most prominent of these...

It's funny, for a character best known for his archery skills, Robin Hood gets into a lot of swordfights. Some of the most iconic filmed swordfights come from the emerald archer from Sherwood, and for good reason! There have been countless adaptations of the original stories, which are crazy cinematic, and they all take place in medieval England, during a time period where swords were predominant weaponry. Combine that with the fact that Robin Hood is, in many retellings, a nobleman who would've been trained in fencing, and you have a natural swashbuckler setup!

And honestly, Robin Hood is sort of the perfect swashbuckler. A morally good hero fighting against the evil establishment, for his friends, contrymen, and the woman he loves. Epic music, daring setpieces, classic fights, a lot of swingin' rafters...yeah, it's perfect. And again, one day, I'll talk about The Adventures of Robin Hood from 1938; one of my favorite action films, and my favorite adaptation of Robin Hood for sure.

But there's another type of swashbuckler that's just as iconic as those listed above, also involving a setting conducive to sword-based action, but often with heroes that are...a little more morally grey.

Pirate films are essentially a subgenre of the swashbuckler (yes, a subgenre of a subgenre of a subgenre), focusing on high-seas action rather than fighting in a hall or castle. The pirate film is a curious beast, appearing in film history in sporadic bursts, with no real period to call its own. They were popular from the '30s through the mid-'60s, had a tiny boom in the '80s, got badly nuked in the '90s, and then had another tiny boom in the '00s with the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. They're always around, but never the first genre you'd think of when you think of action films.

Still, pirate films have an iconic feel to them all their own. The wind in your hair, the daring sword fights against a surly knave or an overzealous government stooge, depending on the nature of your morally dubious hero. Hell, maybe the hero has resorted to piracy after being wronged or lost at sea, and we're rooting for him and his lost honor. Either way, he's got an open shirt and a sword in his hand, and his crew are there to back him up (or betray him; again, depends on the narrative). You know a pirate film when you see one. And that's where I'm headed today: to the open seas with Captain Blood, starring an iconic action star of the 1930s and '40s. In fact, he's so iconic, almost every one of the above GIFs includes him.

Errol Flynn is undoubtedly a major film figure of his day. He's also got a fascinating and...sometimes troubling personal history, putting him up there with some of the great Australian film actors in cinema. But as much as I'd like to talk about Errol Flynn (and I probably will later), I'd like to finally jump into the film that made him famous: Captain Blood, a 1935 film directed by Michael Curtiz, another interesting figure with some...interesting history with Flynn. Again, more later.

Flynn was an unknown before this role, and immediately became an audience and studio favorite, essentially succeeding Douglas Fairbanks as a films and action star. Only 26 at time this film came out, Captain Blood was the beginning of an often turbulent career for Flynn, who would die at only 50 years old. Again, more on him later. And so, without further ado...SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

It's 1685 in England, and there's a rebellion happening! Known as the Monmouth Rebellion, it involved the deposition of James II, after succeeding his brother as king of England, which was contested by Parliament and Protestants, as James II was a Catholic king. Anyway, during the rebellion, Doctor Peter Blood (Errol Flynn) is summoned to aid a friend injured in a skirmish. A retired adventurer and swashbuckler in his own right, Blood is determined not to re-enter the...fight...

Is this Commando? Like, where a retired hero is forced to come back to fight for his country, and won't come back until a personal tragedy or offense is done to him? You know, like Commando? Just calling it now, before it happens.

As Blood is helping his friend, he's taken away and sentenced by Judge George Jeffreys (Leonard Mudie), who accuses him of being a liar and traitor to the crown, despite his complete innocence. Imprisoned and set amongst a group of similar prisoners for months, he attempts to defend himself on the stand, only to condemn himself even further beneath a biased kangaroo court. And for the record, Flynn immediately proves why he's so beloved at this time. He's an excellent actor in this scene, and I immediately sympathize with Peter Blood.

Meanwhile, King James II (Vernon Steele) is convinced by his advisor to send the convicts to the West Indies as slaves, as actual slaves are too expensive, and these guys are free of cost. So, yeah, British monarchy not looking too great. In any case, we set to sea for the first time, in the belly of an unrealistically humane slave ship. In Blood's words, the King was "granted their lives in exchange of an uncertain death". And with that, Blood and the convicts are sent o Port Royal, in Jamaica.

The convicts are set for sale (hate it), and most of them are sold to Colonel Bishop (Lionel Atwill) and his niece, Arabella (Olivia de Havilland). When she observes Blood's rebellious nature at being inspected like cattle, she decides to keep him from working in the mines on her own spoiled whims. Blood's not a fan, and the two immediately clash. Which, obviously, means they're gonna fall in love by the end. Come on, we know how this goes.

Blood's sent to work on the plantation with Bishop's other slaves, on a grinding mill that loves like it's ripped out of Conan the Barbarian. We see the indignity of slavery through...white slaves. Yeah, trying not to think about it, since this is a thing that happened, but it's tough. Anyway, our traitors are taught a lesson about treason, as an escapee is branded on his fucking face, and the prisoners all say how much they hate the fucking King. Great job, James, really fanning the flames of patriotism there.

Meanwhile, the uncaring and selfish governor, Steed (George Hassell) is complaining of gout, and is in need of a physician. Knowing of Blood's former profession, Arabella recommends him as Steed's physician, and is mostly elevated from the role of slavery, which seems...insanely easy. Irritatingly easy, even. But whatever; at least he hasn't forgotten his friends, his actual station, or the fact that Arabella bought him for 10 goddamn shillings! He's still understandably bitter about that.

However, he's in very good favor with the governor for relieving his gout, unlike the previous doctors Bronson (Hobart Cavanaugh) and Whacker (Donald Meek), who attempt to plot to get rid of the much more competent Blood. He puts them in their place, but begins a plot of his own. With the other slaves arrested for treason, he plans an escape attempt from Port Royal, with the help of friend (and the guy who got him in this mess to begin with, Jeremy Pitt (Ross Alexander). However, in the process, Colonel Bishop suspects some kind of plan, which is only circumvented with the help of Arabella. In the process, however, Pitt is captured and flogged for questioning.

While his friend is getting horribly whipped by the Colonel on the stockades, Blood and Arabella flirt (as expected), although a kiss from Blood is received poorly due to his status, leaving the encounter on a sour note. Peter goes back to care for the Governor before their escape that night, then finds Jeremy at the stockades and cares for him as well. He's caught by the Colonel showing mercy, and is about to share Jeremy's fate when a ship attacks the port.

This ship belongs to the Spanish, and the sailors aboard lay waste to the port. It's at this point that the slaves see an opportunity, and make their way to the ships. They take over the Spaniard's ship, and wait until the morning to take out the returning Spaniard captain and soldiers. With navigator Pitt and new gunner Henry Hagthorpe (Guy Kibbee), the new crew sets sale and escapes, under the purview of the new Captain Blood.

Colonel Bishop, like...like a fucking idiot, sails out on a rowboat to thank the men, not realizing it's his own slaves. And then, when he finds out, he still intends to keep them as slaves. THEY HAVE A SHIP, DUDE! You're fucked. Instead of killing him, which they consider, they toss him overboard, and Blood's crew sets sail for the Caribbean Sea, leaving Arabella behind. They abandon their citizenship, and officially become pirates.

The crew of Blood becomes famed and infamous across the seas, to the irritation of King James II himself. With Governor Steed having lost both money from the Spaniard assault, and being unable to reign in Blood in the first place, his appointment as Governor is given to Colonel Bishop, who swears to take care of Blood once and for all. Arabella is conflicted about this, but she's shipped off to England along with Governor Steed.

On Tortuga, Blood signs a deal with another captain, the French Levasseur (Basil Rathbone), and the two become partner pirates. Later on, Arabella finishes her extended holiday in England, traveling alongside Lord Willoughby (Henry Stephenson), who has been tasked to take out Captain Blood. On their journey, they see Levasseur's ship, which attacks them and takes the passengers hostage on a nearby island. They are soon joined by a surprised Peter Blood and his crew, who pretends not to know her.

Blood and Levasseur engage in an argument, as one of the articles of their contract was that no female prisoners would be taken. As a compromise, Blood pays for her ransom, both to save her and as payback for his purchase of her many years ago. This still enrages Levasseur, who wanted Arabella for himself, and he forgoes his honor to challenge Blood to a fencing duel. Fun fact, by the way: Basil Rathbone was an actual fencer, classically trained, and far better than anyone he ever fenced with on-screen, Flynn included. But, since he always played the role of a villain and cad, he was always forced to lose. And this fight is no exception.

Levasseur is killed by Blood...which is crazy, since he's Basil fucking Rathbone, and he was in this movie for maybe 5 minutes altogether as essentially a cameo, but...c'est la vie, et la mort. Arabella and Willoughby are brought on board, only for Arabella to angrily reject him. And yes, she's absolutely a goddamn hypocrite, but she's not fully unjustified. She puts Blood down as a beast like any other pirate (unfairly, of course), and Blood angrily rebukes her in turn. Even then, he plans to bring the two hostages back to Port Royal, where they are certain to die.

Willoughby and Arabella speak, where he convinces her that Blood's genuinely not a dick, and tells her that they're headed to Port Royal. At the same time, Blood's crew refuses to sail to Port Royal, officially acting in mutiny against Blood. And Blood...gracefully surrenders his command of the ship, admitting his affections for Arabella to be driving him against logic. And that ironically turns the crew back to Blood's command. I can't tell if that was a sign of their actual bond, or some straight gatekeeping-girlbossing-gaslighting from Blood, but...yeah, they're still going to Jamaica.

As they approach Port Royal, though, they find it being attacked by two French ships. Willoughby, finally being able to speak with Blood, informs him that France and England are at war. To their surprise, though, Governor Bishop isn't present, nor is the English fleet, since they're out chasing pirates. And so, the only ship to defend Port Royal against the French, is...well, Blood's.

It's then that Willoughby finally reveals his purpose for seeking Blood and his crew: the King has pardoned him. Obviously, they're not a fan of King James II given what he'd done to them, and refuse the offer. But then, Willoughby reveals the other political change: James II is out as King. With that knowledge, Blood and his men decide to fight for the English Navy, and for the new King William III.

Arabella is shuttled ashore, while the ship sails under a French flag to disguise themselves. They easily ambush the French ships attacking the Port, wrecking one and causing it to fucking explode. Honestly, it's pretty sick. The other ship mounts a harsher assault, and Blood's crew is forced to abandon ship. Instead, they simply take the French ship for themselves. And as the Captain swings over, you realize something: this is the prototypical pirate movie.

Yeah, OK, earlier films like The Black Pirate, as well as later ones like The Sea Hawk and Treasure Island, would be a major framework for pirate films in the future. But good goddamn, if this doesn't feel like a pirate movie, I don't know what does. The score is sweeping, the action is epic, and it's honestly just fun. And the most ironic thing is, this is happening at the point in the film when they aren't technically pirates anymore! Hilarious.

Anyway, Blood's crew wins the day for England, only for the Governor to finally return from his futile journey. Arabella, seeing Blood return and knowing her uncle's hatred of him, tries to warn him away while admitting her love to him. But to the surprise of her and her uncle, Bishop is officially deposed as Governor for abandoning his post in times of war to pursue his vendetta, even though he knew Willoughby was coming. He's at the mercy of the new Governor: Doctor Peter Blood. Honestly, it's funny as fuck. Blood bids him "Good morning, Uncle.", and the film comes to a close.

That's it for Captain Blood! Gonna do an old-fashioned review set-up and have a separate post for the Review! And that's because, while the review won't be terribly long...I would really like to talk about the man, the myth, the alcoholic legend himself, Errol Flynn.

See you in the Review!

#user365 #365 days 365 movies #365 movies 365 days #365days365movies #365 movie challenge #365 movies a year #action january #action #action movie #swashbuckling #pirate movie #pirates #captain blood #michael curtiz #errol flynn #olivia de havilland #basil rathbone #action genre

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lake-archive · 25 days

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Chapter 7 - A Kind Color!?

AO3 Link

Fandom: Ensemble Stars

Series: Alte Liebe Rostet Nicht

Characters: Anja-Sophia 'Ann' Wolff (OC), Izumi Sena (mentioned), Sora Harukawa, Natsume Sakasaki

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

The door had been slammed closed off the office at New Dimension, a loud smash occurring from one moment to the next. Once more it was infuriating, to say the least. Except this time Izumi Sena had not decided to exhaust ‘oh so precious legs’ and walk over to the office of the translator. Oh no, this time they were the one moving their ass right to that Arsch . For what? To hear yet another complaint, the usual.

‘Do your job correctly! Who’s paying you anyway!? If it were up to me, I’d fire you sorry–excuse of an ass right away! You’re useless! Goddamn useless! Can’t even do their job right!’

Needless to say, it never failed to piss them off. Granted, sometimes they would just give him a half–assed translation of whatever on purpose but this one… They double checked, mainly to not get into too much trouble with any higher up. But even then, one tiny mistake and he was furious, talking down to them however he could manage.

“ Ein Kanji falsch benutzt… Ein einziges! Der Typ kann mich mal am Arsch lecken… ” Ann mumbled to themselves, deciding to go with their native tongue at that point. Not like anyone would hear, right? Besides, even if someone were to hear this, their tone would say it all– They were beyond pissed off right now. “ Was kann man an dem nicht hassen? Scheucht mich hierher, nur weil er sich zu beklagen hat. Beschiness Idol! Ach, ich verstehe das alles nicht. Wie kann Nyeli nur… Ich dachte wir beide zumindest— ”

“Hey, isn’t that big sister?” A rather energetic voice said out loud, rather cheerful. A voice sounding like the one of a very young boy. He seemed to be in excellent spirits, the exact opposite of Ann right now. Oh the contrast… Oh what an irony… Oh what terrible timing. “Hello~!”

“Miss Translator, what a rarity to spot you in this ofFICE… Or anywhere realLY…” Another voice would echo in their ears. A calm one, though the way this one was speaking was… Odd… Almost sending them shiver down their very own spine. They were not used to this in the slightest, to say the least. Then again, usually they either had their parent’s voice in their very own ears, Ritsu’s or an Arschloch yelling at them. So unsettling and soft may as well also be a breath of fresh air, to say the least.

They turned, the faces all too familiar from seeing them alone, though they had bumped into the two on some occasions: Two members of the idol unit Switch, two they kind of knew. At least enough to be invited over for some gaming sessions from time to time. That is whenever they had the time to play videogames. Still, they would not turn down the invitation whenever possible. Though the relationship didn’t go much further than this and it was rare to see the two of them outside of that small room… And the current situation was less than ideal, making them blush in an instant. That’s how embarrassing this was.

“Harukawa–San? Sakasaki–San?” They said, a little surprised though should it have been a big surprise to begin with?

“Yeeesh, Sora said that big sister can call Sora Sora!” The younger looking one of the two pouted slightly, as if not pleased hearing that.

“Waah! Forgot… Sorry…” They were quick to apologize. “It’s… A habit… Sora–San.”

“Hehe, that’s better~” The blonde chuckled happily, having a cheerful grin on his face.

“Yes yeS, good to see that you two are still getting alonG.” Natsume commented with a light smile, though almost resembling a smirk. “Then agaiN, who does Sora not get along witH?”

Ann only shrugged at this, smiling a little nervously for a moment. They had no reply to that. Natsume sure loves little Sora, a lot. Like a little brother. Then again, not a bad thing if they were completely honest. It was oddly endearing, to say the least. “Uhm… You need… Stuff?” They then added as a question, trying their best to remain calm. And for a moment it worked. That was until the following…

“Oh nO, we just spotted you here and wanted to say hellO.” Natsume first responded, this being no lie. But then he added: “AlthougH…” “You were talking to Sena–Senpai, weren’t you big sister?” There it was, the one thing they did not want to be reminded off and which made them shake their head in somewhat of a disbelief.

“Yeah…” They only responded, looking slightly annoyed at the not so distant memory of it. “Kind of…”

“Huh? Is something wrong?”

“Did you two argue agaiN?” Natsume asked, the annoyance in his tone and face undeniable however. “You must really love fightING…”

“Never asked for that.” Ann threw in just as quickly, shaking their own head. It’s not like they wanted to… Fate was just cruel and always brings them together in one way or another.

“Again? With Sena–Senpai?” The blonde boy would ask, seeming to be in disbelief when hearing this. As if it was something rather ‘alien’ to him, unable to comprehend it properly. “But Sena–Senpai is such a good person…”

“AheM… Sora…”

Good per– What!? That in the same sentence with ‘Izumi Sena’!? Was this boy pulling their leg or something!? And they didn’t even hide that shocking revelation either, at least to them this was something which seemed impossible. “Sarsacsm?” They even asked, shocked and slightly annoyed.

“Huh? No, Sora is being serious. Sora likes Sena–Senpai! His color is very kind actually!”

“K… Kind color?” Ann raised one of their eyebrows in disbelief. What is he on about?

This was met with a nod from the boy. “Yes yes! A kind, warm color! Sora’s personal favorite! It’s all silvery too!”

If they were honest, to this day they might have a hard time understanding what Sora might be heading at sometimes, though they understood the gist of it. Long story short, the boy painted the ‘ Arsch vom Dienst’ as a rather innocent person… What a joke. This had to be one. And they were not very amused by hearing this. It seemed so outlandish, so insane!

“Sora–San, are you lying?” They asked, though almost hesitate because they knew what would be coming next, a sharp glare from Switch's leader.

“Sora, lyinG!? Are you listening to yourSELF!?” He even asked in disbelief, as sharp as his glare. “Sora would never tell a liE!”

“But that… Weird.” They shuttered out loud, not wanting to believe it. This had to be a joke. It just had to be. “That guy—”

“HaH, you don’t get me right noW, do you Miss Translator?”

“Get? Get what?”

“Sora is a bad liaR.”

“Er…” What was Natsume heading at, seriously.

“Master~? Why do you bring this up?” And as if the poor boy had not been confused enough already, this might have confused him even more now. “I just want her to understand someTHING.” The redhead sighed, then glaring back at Ann. “You have not noticed it yeT, have yoU?”

“The color thing? I—”

“Sora is a terrible liaR, yeS. HowevER, it’s not like people can hide their true nature towards him eiTHER.”

Wait what? Did he have to throw it right at them now? Then again, given the constant talk about colors… Even when first meeting them, Sora brabbled about Ann’s color. He described it as ‘odd but comforting deep down… But still weird’ yet that had gotten them talking. And while trying to keep the duo at an arm's length they had gotten a tiny bit closer. Nothing too close though, they would never claim that. Who knows after all… And besides, they had to admit… They kept a certain caution around Sora as a result. Who knows what the boy might discover. So they kind of knew actually. Even then… The part about Izumi…

“R… Really now?” They responded as a result, though taking a deep breath. “Sorry but… No.”

“No?” Sora commented, at first confused though then suddenly flinched when looking at them, as if having spotted something beyond terrifying from one moment to the next. And honestly, if that got the two off their back… Why not?

“Yeah. Sorry but… Believing it when seeing it.”

“FigureS. You two argue to the point my ears hurt someTIMES. And I’m usually downstairs when hearing you screaming like little kidS.” Natsume decided to bring this up with nothing but annoyance, looking like as if he was ready to punch a wall. “I’m surprised you two haven’t started fist fighting yeT.”

“Punch that face? Oh, love that one!” The thought of it was satisfying, yes. “But can’t… ugh… May as—”

“Blood red…” That had caught the two talking a little off guard, then turning to the blonde boy who was standing there, frozen, somewhat in a shocked state. Blood red? Was it someone’s color again? Or– it probably was but who—

“S…Scary… Sora… Uhm… SoraremembersaveryurgentappointmentexcuseSora!”

And before any of the two could respond the boy turned away, sprinting away before anything else after having talked rather quickly. The sentence had been barely audible for Ann, a little too fast. Blood red though… What blood red? Where? Who? Hah?

“Maybe talking about it was a bad ideA. ApologieS.”

“Hah… It’s… fine… I guess… Anything else?”

“Oh nO, not realLY. I’ve got my own business to attend tO. And I’m sure you still have work ahead of yourSELF.”

“Kind of…”

“Then good luck Miss Translator. And don’t overwork yourSELF, will yoU?”

“No plans!”

Though that was a lie and secretly both of them had known. As short as this encounter was though it had Ann thinking again… First Nyeli’s picture, then Sora’s observation… Was it possible that there is more to Izumi Sena than meets the mere eye?

Guh… Even when he wasn’t present he gave Ann a literal headache. That guy just can’t leave them be, can he?

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