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salazarslytherin · 3 years

Text

midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)

requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 [i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)] send in your own request here

summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night

part two here

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried. also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him

word count: 5.25k (so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)

a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx

☯︎ join tag list here

Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.

However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.

A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.

⚔︎

Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.

Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.

The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.

It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.

However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.

⚔︎

You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.

Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.

Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.

Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.

You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.

Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.

The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.

The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?

⚔︎

Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.

Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.

Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.

The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.

Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.

You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.

After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.

⚔︎

The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.

However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.

"What the fuck?"

You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.

"Oh."

Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.

"Pour me a cup?"

The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.

Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.

"'m surprised you're down here."

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.

"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."

A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.

"I–what?"

The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."

You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.

"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."

You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.

"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."

An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.

"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.

"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."

A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.

"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."

You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.

"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"

You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.

"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."

You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.

"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."

Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.

"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."

Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.

⚔︎

After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.

While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.

Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.

Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.

It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.

⚔︎

Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.

George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.

You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.

Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.

Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.

"Y/N?"

You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.

You should have known you weren't that lucky.

Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.

"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"

⚔︎

Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.

Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.

Tranquility was what the scene spelt.

In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.

Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.

Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.

You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.

Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.

"Why are you following me."

Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.

"Why are you running away from me?"

Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.

"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"

You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.

But of course, fate never let you have your way.

You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.

"I never ran away from you."

Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.

"Y/N, I'm talking to you."

The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.

"Well that's a first."

Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.

But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.

Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.

Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.

You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.

"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?

Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.

"I–"

"You know how much that hurt?"

You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.

"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"

Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.

Ashamed.

"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."

Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.

"And you know the worst fucking part?"

Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.

"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."

"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."

The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.

Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.

Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.

You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.

"I, I was afraid."

Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.

"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."

It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.

"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."

You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.

"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."

"I wasn't a kid!"

"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."

Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.

"But you never stopped..."

Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.

"Are you being serious?"

His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.

"As serious as I could be Y/N."

Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.

Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.

Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.

The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.

Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.

Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.

"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"

A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.

"Only the best for my girl."

Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?

Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.

His girl.

⚔︎

The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.

The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.

“Can I?”

Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.

One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.

“Yes, I need you.”

You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.

Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.

“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”

Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.

The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.

“May, may I?”

He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.

You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.

“Are you... a virgin?”

The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.

“No, I’m not.”

His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.

It didn’t matter. You were with him now.

He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.

Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.

His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.

“Are y’okay?”

You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.

“Yes, just, one second.”

Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.

He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.

“Faster.”

Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.

You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.

Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.

“Are you close baby?”

A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.

One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.

His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.

Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.

But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.

As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.

Yet he still never relented.

As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.

With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.

Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.

Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.

Something you didn’t want to lose either.

⚔︎

The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.

When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.

In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.

“Did you regret that?”

The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.

His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.

“No. Did you?”

The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.

“Of course not.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.

“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.

“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”

You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.

“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”

You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.

Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.

You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.

“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”

part two out now x

#mine #writing #request #bill weasley #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley angst #bill weasley smut #bill weasley fluff #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter angst #harry potter smut #bill weasley imagine #hp angst #hp imagine #hp fluff #hp smut

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emilycollins00 · 3 years

Note

I saw your requests were open so I 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 I’m not sure if you do Guy but if you do, maybe a scenario where the reader is dancing under the rain and having fun but Guy is worried for their health and is trying to coax them back in but the reader manages to pull Guy with them and start dancing together. I personally think Guy wouldn’t understand the concept or the appeal of dancing under the rain until he sees you and is dancing with you and just goes “oh” yknow 😔✊🏼 if you don’t do Guy or aren’t comfortable enough yet you could replace him with Juza/Tasuku

THIS REQUEST WAS EVERYTHING. I've wanted to write Guy for a while so this was absolutely wholesome to do, thank you Ever!

Hope you all enjoy it 💕

One soulful moment it's all it takes (Guy x Reader)

People say monotony kills the heart. Ironically, monotony is what also keeps the heart working.

It wasn’t that Guy enjoyed it per se, it's just that it was proven things got done quicker when you set up a system. It was more productive. More efficient. Waking up early every morning to practice karate was good to improve his health. Making and drinking tea also helped. Going fishing or taking care of Tsukioka’s garden had also become part of what he got used to when he started living in Mankai among other activities.

The only variant he could never seem to grasp was you.

“You should go out more!”

"I believe we are already outside."

"No- I mean, to play around, you know? Enjoy life! Nothing like a good bruise on your leg to remind you that you have a leg."

You always picked on him based on the consistency of his routines, on the rigidness of his answers. And while sometimes Guy had to admit he didn’t quite grasp the full meaning of what you said, he found you captivating, intriguing even.

Everyone around always seemed to have a smile next to you after all, and as you two got closer, Guy found himself wishing he could be half as carefree and adventurous as you.

“Come on!” You made him eat some of the food you had ordered- even though his own plate was more than enough for one person’s fill. “I can’t believe this is not making you smile. If you are not excited when you eat, you are doing something wrong.”

You always loved to try new things, which was why whenever you would suddenly appear at Mankai you would try and drag him all over Veludo. Openminded experiences, you liked to call them. It was also how Guy had gotten used to asking for places others recommended, such as the cat’s café, Veludo main acting street, or this new curry restaurant director and Usui had seemed to enjoy so much lately.

As you finished your meals and paid, you both stepped outside while making light talk. “Ah… that was spicy but delicious! Not Omi’s level though. I’ve only eaten snacks from him but I bet all his food tastes just as good. You guys are lucky.”

“Yes. He is one skilled young man even among other Zahran’s royal court's chefs I know. I have no doubt anyone that would try his cooking would think so as well.”

“Right? Anyway, I didn’t know you could handle spices so well,” you patted his arm happily. Those plates had been no joke, Chikage and Izumi were monsters. “I mean, you finished it all! I believed this was the time I was gonna see you making weird faces."

"Do you want me to?"

"No! I was joking Guy. You always take me too seriously I swear," you laughed as you both left the shopping district.

The winter member nodded, taking a mental note once again. From his early childhood memories he had always been told to be careful about everything, and was made to follow the path everyone told him to. And though there were times when he wanted to step out of the beaten path, he hadn't been much of a rebel- until Citronia left, that is. He would easily put those thoughts aside and go on doing whatever he was supposed to do.

All of a sudden a few drops fell, snapping him back in the present and made him blink surprised at the sky at the unexpected wet contact. He had seen the weathercast that morning over breakfast and it hadn’t said anything about raining.

“We should look for shelter before it becomes heavier.”

“Uh? What are you talking about?”

Guy stopped walking and met your questioning eyes, as if you truly didn’t understand what he had said. People around you both began passing by jogging with jackets, briefcases, or whatever object they might have in hand acting as umbrellas, and for a second he didn’t know how to explain it more clear. “The rain. We will get wet otherwise.”

There was a sound of thunder in the distance, which made people speed up their walking pace. Not you though.

“I know." you shrugged. "Still can’t see the problem.”

As the raindrops started to make their way through you, causing you to get wet, you stepped away from him, welcoming the cool drink from the clouds.

“Y/N? Where are you going?” he called out to you when you started moving around in circles.

The unaware worry tinted in his expression resonated in your mind. In time, you were able to control yourself enough to let out a snort of a laugh. "Nowhere. I'm dancing silly!" you replied, your voice high with joy and arms open up in the sky. "The rain feels good. I love to walk and dance in it. Don’t tell me you’ve never done this."

“But you will get sick.”

“Oh come on, healing rain is real!”

“Is that so.”

“Yeah! It can be physical healing or emotional or whatever you want it to.” You smiled. Your movements were rusty under the slow and endless drizzle, making jumpings and turns here and there. “It washes your sins away.”

Guy kept staring not entirely convinced. As much as he saw you enjoying yourself moving around in the rain, he had seen Tsukioka and a few other members from Mankai get sick just from running under in the rain on their way back home and all in all, he still didn't fully understand the point of what you were doing.

“It doesn’t seem very conclusive.” He looked around, trying to look for any shop that might sell umbrellas. Without any result he turned to you once again, rain getting heavier as you two talked. “If you wish to feel water running under you a shower could work as well, although I admit the space is considerably different if you decided to dance.”

“Oh for the love of-" you ran up to him, grabbing his elbow and forcing him to come out of the somewhat safe roof he had been guarding himself against since you had left him laughing. “Just come here. Now close your eyes and enjoy the music!”

He followed your instructions and stayed in silence for a few seconds, then he opened them. “There’s no music Y/N.”

“Of course there is! Try closing them again and pay attention.”

He followed your suggestion once again.

All was silent as before- All silent save the dripping rain. Then, as the breathful afternoon melted slowly and the cold caress of fresh air lapped up, Guy started to feel the drops around him. And while they were not synchronized, they created a sound worth listening to.

As you had indicated, he tried to let go of his inhibitions, allowing the rain to wash away the thoughts that had been roaming on his mind After a while he opened his eyes slightly, confused at the sudden feeling emerging within him. It was also when he found you still there, not having moved yet, smiling brightly -as the now hidden sun in front of him.

Ah. He didn’t know exactly why or how it had happened, but the connection between you was different from anything he had felt before.

“…I believe I am now listening to the music you spoke of.”

Sometimes one finds joy in the small and simple things. It could be the scent of the rain, the taste of your favorite food... others, it was the sound of a loved one's voice.

“What do you think Guy?”

He never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and feel the rain, however his eyes trailer over you, before silently stepping back instead. The sudden action made you tilt your head confused. You knew Zahfra wasn't that much of a humid place so it would make sense he might not be as comfortable as it was for other people to stand in the middle of the rain.

“Guy-”

“Y/N-"

You chuckled at how you both said each other names so suddenly. Just like in the movies. “You go first.”

He stared gaze at your figure for a second, before offering his right hand. Rain kept falling under you, no one else in sight. Just you, Guy, and the sound of rain.

“May I have this dance?”

As if it was possible, your eyes lighted up brighter than they had on the whole day, which surprised Guy to an extent. With a beaming smile you nodded, and so he took a step towards you. He wrapped his hands around you and pulled you slightly closer. The thunderbolts made your body shiver while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could feel your every breath, and with every breath, your own heartbeats pumped faster.

A good lead should be soft yet subtle, stating their intentions by moving themselves, inviting their partners to follow along. Guy was alert, eyes scanning the surroundings ahead of him, watching traffic, other people, but also aware of what was happening right in his arms.

He treated your follow with respect, never forcing any movement. If he led a step or a pattern and you interpreted the movement differently than he had intended, he adapted to you rather than forcing change. He wanted to give you a sense of security, knowing you could fully depend on his lead the way he had learned to dance, however after a few clumsy fails followed by your laugh, he soon discovered it didn't matter how you both danced, just that you did.

“I think you know me better than I know myself.” He broke the silence after a while. You smiled.

“I’m not going to deny that.”

“I wish I could repay you for that, somehow.”

Laughing again you adjusted yourself so you could look up at him. His astonishingly beautiful green orbs finding yours once again, filled with overwhelming love and safety. “You are doing it right now.”

The corner of his eyes softened.

There were many things he had tried to chase away. Things he couldn’t remember, and others he didn’t let himself think about. Right now he was living, and nothing else seemed to matter anymore. He allowed you to take him anywhere you pleased on that made-up dance floor under the rain. You went right, he went right. You sped up, he sped up. Having you there, next to him like this, made him think about just how lucky he had become.

“…You are beautiful,” he whispered, touching your cheek with care, clearing the strands of wet hair that had gotten in the way.

You held on to him tighter.

“You are beautiful too.” You smiled, noses touching. Rain still falling over you both. “Didn't I tell you? That dancing in the rain deserved getting a cold.”

______________________________________________________

Wishing you all a wonderful day! 💕

#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3 act addict actors #a3 actor training game #a3!#a3 #a3! guy #a3 guy #guy x reader

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starryeyes-darkestnights · 4 years

Text

Shut Up and Drive

Part 3 of We Dance Together Now

An O’Knutzy au where Leo and Logan are still playing for the Lions, but Finn is a musician they met by chance on a roadie to Montreal.

Here are the first few parts!

Part 1 - Jingle Bell Rock

Part 2 - This City

I hope you like it!!! :):)

Also, this is getting kind of crazy long, so I’m going to stick it up on AO3 too :)

These beautiful characters and their world belong to the incredible @lumosinlove

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

Finn was standing at his bathroom sink, brushing his teeth, when he heard his phone buzz in the other room. He wandered out to look for it, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. When it wasn’t immediately visible, he just shrugged and headed back to the bathroom. It was probably just his mom. She texted to say goodnight sometimes, which was adorable but didn’t require an urgent response.

But then the phone went off a second time while he was rinsing his mouth, and a third while he was pulling on his sleep pants. Definitely not his mom. Curious now, he grabbed his book off the nightstand and headed off in search of the mysterious messages. He padded out to the living room, spotting the phone on the couch and flopping down next to it just as a fourth notification went off. He scooped it up and swiped open his messages. He was surprised to see Logan’s contact come up. He figured they would be busy tonight after their game.

Logan: Finn!

Logan: FINN!

Logan: FINN ANSWER YOUR PHONE

Logan: We won!

Finn smiled at Logan’s excitement. He had actually seen the alert for the team’s win flash across his phone a few hours earlier. He’d set up notifications for Lions game results a few weeks ago, after an embarrassing evening of asking them how the game went, not knowing they had lost. He would only make that mistake once.

Finn: I saw. Congrats! 😊

Logan’s response was immediate.

Logan: You’re alive! Come celebrate with us.

Finn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was unexpected. He knew that after winning games they usually went out with the guys from their team. That’s why he had gotten ready for an early night.

Finn: Aren’t you out with the team?

Logan: Yes! Leo says to tell you they’re cool if you join us. They want to see you again. They remember you from Montreal.

Finn chewed his lip, looking longingly between his book and the phone in his hand. Usually he would love to see them - the trio had become nearly inseparable over the past month - but he had been looking forward to reading tonight. He hadn’t had much opportunity since school had started back up. Plus, he had to be up early tomorrow.

Finn: Ordinarily I would be all over that. But I’m almost in bed

Logan: Your bed will still be there in a few hours!

Finn: But it looks so comfy right now.

Logan: Pleeeeaaase? Dancing isn’t fun without you any more

Finn melted a little at that one, his conviction starting to waver even as he texted back.

Finn: I don’t give in to peer pressure!

He watched the screen, waiting for an answer, when a message from Leo popped up at the top. A picture. He swiped it open, curious, and his jaw dropped.

It was a picture of Logan, taken from close up. His head was tilted, his messy curls falling over one eye, and he was pouting, his lower lip jutting out just slightly. He was looking directly into the camera, and his eyes… Finn took one look at the wide, green, puppy dog gaze, and knew he had just been made a liar. There was absolutely no way he was not going to do whatever Logan asked if this was how he asked it. He stood up and sent one final text.

Finn: Where are you?

---

Two hours later Finn was in the middle of a dance floor, sweat dripping in his eyes as he leaned over to put his hands on his knees, trying to stop laughing long enough to catch his breath.

His efforts were futile, as Logan chose that moment to expand on his interpretation of the Toosie Slide dance, one that had been getting more and more extravagant every time they heard the song at a club. As he slid dramatically across the floor, he almost knocked over a poor, unsuspecting woman. He hadn’t actually crashed into her, but it was close enough to scare her into turning toward him with a very angry look and Finn cackled as he watched Logan’s face turn from mischief to horror, nearly knocking her over a second time as he rushed to apologize. His amusement was short-lived, however, as the woman gave Logan a once-over and did a complete 180, from angry to impossibly seductive, in less than the time it took her to introduce herself. Finn looked to Leo, hoping for a distraction, only to find him in a similar position with the first woman’s friend.

Finn stood up, laughter draining quickly from his system as his smile turned wry. This was a familiar scene. Girls were not shy with Leo and Logan. And it’s not like he could blame them- he was painfully aware of how beautiful they both were. He just didn’t usually let himself get caught having to watch it. He had quickly learned to spot the girls coming before they did, to extract himself from the situation before he had to watch it unfold. This was the first time since that first night at the Burrow that he’d been caught off guard. And it was… painful. So much for keeping your feelings in check, I guess, he thought drily.

He waited for a moment, until Leo and Logan were both fully distracted, and took the opportunity to sneak away quietly, back to the table where he had been introduced to the team earlier. He slid into the seat he had previously abandoned, next to Kasey Winter, and shot him a quick smile when he welcomed him back. He pretended to be interested in the conversation he was having with Sirius Black, across from him, but his mind was elsewhere, and he jumped when a voice sounded in his ear.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He recognized Leo’s teasing voice and a small smile crept onto his face. “We lost you out there. Logan thought you might be getting a drink.”

Finn turned to look at him, taking in his dance-flushed cheeks and bright, dimpled smile. One thing he had learned after spending enough time with him, was that a genuine Leo Knut smile could light up a room. Usually that smile caused a warm glow in Finn’s chest, but right now all he could picture was the woman from the dance floor being on the receiving end of it.

Finn shook his head. “Nope, just needed a quick break.”

Leo’s brow furrowed at that, and his head tilted as he looked at Finn, assessing. His eyes flickered between Finn’s, and across his face, radiating kindness. His expression softened and he reached up to place a gentle hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Hey, are you ok?”

“Ya, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Finn tried to paste on his biggest smile, but he could tell Leo wasn’t fully convinced.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me, right? I –“

Whatever Leo was going to say was cut off by Logan returning to the table, loudly. Finn took a second to thank whatever divine intervention had prevented him from having to come up with an excuse for his moping, before turning his attention to what appeared to be a very passionate argument between Logan and Thomas Walker.

“I’m just saying Talkie, that can’t possibly be true.”

“Logan. Explain to me why it cannot be true.”

“No! You explain to me why it can be true!”

Finn caught on to what Logan was doing. He had seen him try it before, on Leo, and on himself a few times as well. But it had never worked.

“It was on the Discovery Channel Tremz! Why would they lie?”

“I’m not saying they’re lying, I’m just saying you haven’t convinced me that they’re telling the truth.”

Thomas’ jaw dropped at that one, disbelief on his face. “Logan, I-, what?? That’s- this is ridiculous! Aardvarks exist! Fucking Google them!”

Logan just shook his head cheerfully, popping a cheese fry into his mouth. “Nah.”

“Aargh!”

Finn couldn’t help but laugh at Thomas’ exasperated face as he stood from the table. “I’m going to the washroom. I can’t handle you right now.” He gave Logan a playful shove in the back of the head as he walked behind him.

Logan just laughed into his drink, looking smug.

“So,” Finn picked up his own drink, “is antagonizing your friends on purpose a personal hobby?”

“No.” “Yes.”

Logan and Leo spoke over one another.

Finn looked between them, amused, as Logan pretended to be offended.

Leo just looked at Logan, eyebrows raised and a corner of his mouth pulled up affectionately. “Getting people worked up is Logan’s favourite game, but he’ll pretend he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kasey, overhearing, leaned back over to Finn. “We’ve all just learned to ignore it. Talkie’s the only one he can still get to.”

Finn chuckled at that. “You know aggravating people on purpose isn’t very nice, right?” He cocked his head at Logan.

Logan just smiled innocently. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Leo gestured pointedly toward him. “See?”

Just then, there was a flurry of movement from the other end of the table as people started getting ready to go. As the three of them stood together to join them, Finn was reminded of something.

“Hey, before I forget, you guys have tomorrow off right?”

Leo nodded, shoving his arms through his jacket sleeves. “Ya, we do. What are we doing?”

Finn loved that it had become natural for them to just assume they would be doing something together on a day off. He started walking backward toward the door of the bar and grinned at the other two as they followed.

“We, my friends, are going on an adventure. Dress for being outside, and be ready at 9am sharp.”

---

At exactly 9 o’clock the next morning, Finn watched as Logan yanked open the door to his car and flopped into the front seat. His hair tousled, eyes bleary, he leaned back against the headrest with a groan. “Whyyy are we awake right now Finn?” His voice was still raspy from sleep. “Early bird gets the worm!” Finn chirped back at him with a smile. He gave a noncommittal grunt, but perked up as Finn passed him a coffee.

He took a sip, eyes closed. “Mmmmm. Ok you’re forgiven.”

“You’re welcome. Are you awake now? I need you to tell me how to get to Leo’s place.”

Finn had picked up the two of them from Logan’s place a few times over the past couple of weeks, swinging by on his way home from campus and driving them to his place to play video games or to Sid’s for dinner. He knew Leo didn’t live at Dumo’s too, but he had never actually picked him up from his own house.

“Why didn’t you pick him up first?” Grumbled Logan, his eyes still half closed as he tried to stifle a yawn.

“I picked you up first because I know where you live, and you know where Leo lives. It’s called logic. Now give me directions, Sir Yawns-a-Lot. We have places to be!”

“Mmm.” Logan grunted back in his still sleep-rasped voice. “I actually don’t remember where he’s staying right now, let me give him a call.”

Finn furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What? Where he’s staying right now? Does he not always stay in the same place?”

But Logan waved him off as Leo picked up the phone, and Finn was left to wonder impatiently for the short duration of the call.

“Ok, he’s downtown. At the Hogwarts Hotel, right across from the arena. It’s like 5 minutes from here. You know it?”

“Yeees…” Finn dragged the word out, still trying to piece this together. “… can I ask why he’s at a hotel?”

It was Logan’s turn to look confused. “He’s always at a hotel? He’s a rookie, that’s usually what happens.”

Finn was caught off guard. “Seriously? Like for the whole year? Did you do that too?”

“Ya, I guess for the whole year. And no, I didn’t do it. I got really lucky the year I came, Dumo had an open room. He invited me to billet and I’ve just never left. They’re like a second family to me now.” He paused, running his finger around the lid of his coffee cup.

“I feel really bad for Leo though. It was hard enough coming here when I had Dumo’s family to rely on, I don’t know how he’s doing it.” He shook his head, looking up at Finn. “He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him, bouncing around between hotel rooms, but you can tell he’s homesick sometimes, you know? I try and drag him over here to crash on my floor when he looks really down, but it’s still just another strange place for the night.”

Finn nodded. He knew how hard it had been for him moving to Gryffindor- the loneliness he had felt, exhausted from working hard all day and dreading coming home to an empty apartment. He had spent many sleepless nights talking himself out of dropping out and moving back home to his parents, his brother. June. It was during that time he had written This City, the song he had played at the Burrow the first time Leo and Logan came to see him play.

He thought about how Leo had responded to his explanation that the song had been about moving to Gryffindor. It wasn’t a happy song. Finn didn’t like that Leo could relate to it.

He put the car in drive, mulling an idea around in his brain as he headed to Gryffindor Hotel.

---

Leo

Leo sat in the middle of the backseat of Finn’s car, watching the roads they passed and trying to discern where exactly they were headed. So far all he could tell was that whatever they were doing, they weren’t doing it in downtown Gryffindor. He didn’t like not knowing things, it made him feel on edge. He sighed, deciding to try one more time. “Finn. We’ve been driving for fifteen minutes. Are you going to tell us where we’re going yet?”

“Actually, yes!”

Well, that was pleasantly unexpected. Finn had been denying Logan an answer since before Leo had even gotten in the car.

“Just one second…”

Leo watched from the backseat as Finn checked his blind spot, merged off of the entrance ramp, and…

“Ta-da!”

Leo looked outside the window. They were on a freeway. Was Finn… excited about the freeway?

He shared a glance with Logan, who looked equally confused.

“Finn,” Logan started slowly, “what do you mean ‘ta-da’? Is this where we are going? The freeway? You said to bring clothes for outside. We can’t go outside when there are cars driving by at 80 miles per hour.”

Finn was unphased. “The freeway is our gateway to adventure, boys.” He explained cheerfully. “Everyone knows a road trip doesn’t begin until you get onto a highway.”

“We’re going on a road trip?” Leo’s interest was piqued. “A road trip to where?”

“I’m glad you asked!”

“We’ve asked ten times and you ignored us. NOW you’re glad?” asked Logan incredulously.

“Yes,” Finn explained patiently, “because I couldn’t tell you before. Not until the road trip started. Remember the rules of the list?”

“We decided that was bullshit!”

“You decided it was bullshit. I never agreed.”

Logan opened his mouth to retort, and Leo decided it was time to interject. “The road trip started now. Can you please tell us?”

He watched Finn’s smile through the rear-view mirror. Leo rarely had the opportunity to observe Finn like this, without him noticing, and he was trying not to make it obvious that he was taking advantage. But they were headed East, and the morning sun that came through the windshield was drawing out these tiny gold flecks in his wide brown eyes, and Leo couldn’t look away. He was just thinking that he wanted to see those flecks up close when Finn suddenly met his gaze in the mirror. He jerked his eyes away immediately, cursing himself as his heart skipped a beat. Then he realized that just made him look even more guilty, so he looked back up and raised his eyebrows at Finn, pretending that he had just been looking at him to hear his answer.

Finn held out for a dramatic pause before responding smugly. “I have found us the perfect adventure.”

Logan groaned, and Finn glanced over at him, sticking out his tongue. Leo noticed his cheeks had a flush that matched his own. He must have realized Leo was staring. Fuck.

The smug look fell away when he spoke again, and he sounded almost nervous. “So, there’s this town called Ilvermorny, over on the coast. I heard about it a while ago from a customer at the Burrow, apparently people love to go there because it’s super beautiful and you can walk around and explore the whole place in a day.”

Logan looked over at him, interested. “Sounds cool.”

Finn looked relieved for a second, and then an excited grin took back over. “I’m glad you think so. But that’s not the best part.” He wiggled his eyebrows excitedly. “I have received some excellent intel, that not only is this place all picturesque and shit, but, Leo…” he waited for Leo to meet his eyes in the mirror again. “They also have THE best authentic Cajun food this side of Louisiana.”

Leo felt his jaw drop, and he couldn’t stop the huge smile that he felt stretching across his face. He’s been so homesick for the food his mom made for him back in New Orleans. He leaned forward between the front seats. “Are you serious? Finn. Are you for real?”

Finn just laughed, eyes on the road.

“Logan!” Leo turned to Logan, who had one corner of his mouth quirked up into an amused smile as he watched Leo’s excited reaction. “If this is real- and I swear to god Finn this better be real or I might actually cry- I can finally introduce you to food from home.”

He flopped back into his seat, his mouth already watering at the thought of real, authentic Cajun food. “Not having a kitchen has been absolutely killing me in Gryffindor. I miss the food from home so much.”

Logan turned back to look at him, surprised. “Really? You’ve never mentioned that you like to cook.”

Leo groaned, his eyes closing. “I love to cook. I never mention it because it just makes me sad. But nothing can make me sad right now if you’ve just put shrimp étouffée on the table.”

“I have no idea what you just said, but I’m glad you’re happy.”

He heard the amusement in Finn’s voice and cracked an eye to see him flickering his eyes between the road and the mirror. “Best. Surprise. Ever.”

Finn looked so pleased, it made Leo’s heart swell.

“Now can you please talk about something else to distract me from the fact that I have to wait hours to get to this place?”

“Yes!” Logan jumped in quickly. “We can talk about what the hell this road trip playlist is.”

Finn startled, glancing over at Logan. “What do you mean?”

“What are we listening to??”

Finn looked scandalized. “It’s the Eagles, Logan.”

“The Eagles?! What are you, 60 years old?”

“They’re iconic!”

“They’re old. Now give me the phone cable.”

Logan didn’t wait for Finn’s response before unceremoniously yanking the cord out of Finn’s phone and plugging in his own, scrolling through his music library.

Finn wasn’t done defending his choices. “Being old doesn’t make you less iconic! Plus, I like the way they write. And so do like, a hundred million other people! We can’t all be wrong!”

Logan finally stopped scrolling and interrupted the incensed redhead. “Hey, Finn?”

Finn glanced over one more time. “What?”

Logan just grinned, and pressed play. The opening notes of Rihanna’s ‘Shut Up and Drive’ filled the car and Leo just smiled and shook his head as Finn’s offended spluttering was drowned out by the sound of electric guitar and Logan’s self-satisfied cackle.

---

When the boys arrived in Ilvermorny, it was only 11am. Finn had packed them a big breakfast for the car and they still weren’t hungry enough for a full lunch, so they decided to grab a quick snack for now and leave the restaurant for dinner. There was a bakery across the street from the Information Center they had parked beside, and as Logan headed in to get their order, Leo stood outside with Finn and looked around. Finn had been right, this was a super quaint little town, all brightly coloured shop fronts and cute wooden sidewalks. He winced as a cool wind blew by, regretting that he had chosen to wear a snapback instead of a beanie. He still wasn’t used to the winter weather here.

“Hey, trade me.”

He turned to see Finn tugging off his beanie and gave him a questioning look. “Sorry, what?”

“You’re cold already, it’s just going to get worse over the day. Give me your hat and you can have this one.”

Leo was caught off guard. “Oh, my god, Finn. No. I was the idiot who didn’t bring a proper hat. I’m not going to make you freeze your ears for my mistake.”

Finn just reached up and plucked Leo’s snapback off his head, dropping it onto his own before using both hands to pull his beanie down low over Leo’s curls. Leo immediately felt the warmth, both of the wool over his ears, and of the blush moving up his cheeks to reach the place where his skin tingled from the brush of Finn’s fingers.

Finn’s wide eyes were kind as he smiled up at Leo. “I have a hood,” he said, voice soft, “you don’t. I’ll just pull mine up if I get cold.”

“Thank you.” Leo swallowed, trying and failing to pull his gaze from where it was locked onto Finn’s. Those damn gold flecks were still there. The pull he had felt since the day he had met him had never been stronger, and he felt himself start to move closer when the chime of the bakery door startled both of them.

He spun around, cursing himself internally. Stupid, stupid. Get it together. He’s not into you. You can’t be into him.

A gust of warm air blew over him as Logan stepped out with an armful of drinks and baked goods.

“Hey guys, sorry that took a minute, they were out of chocolate croissants, so I had to get something different.” His voice trailed off as he spotted Leo’s snapback over Finn’s red locks, and his gaze shot up to where Finn’s beanie was now snug over Leo’s ears.

A strange look crossed over his face, so quickly that Leo almost thought he imagined it. But it was gone before he could figure it out, replaced by a happy smile as he handed out coffees and they set to walking.

---

Finn

The three of them spent the afternoon checking out every recommendation from a guide-book Leo had snagged from the Information Center.

They toured what was apparently one of the oldest functioning lighthouses in America, tried (and failed) to spot whales from coin operated binoculars on the winter-emptied fishing pier, and stopped to watch a local artist creating beautiful framed scenes out of ocean glass she collected herself from her front yard. Finn bought one of her pieces. “A memory!” He told Leo and Logan.

They meandered down the entire length of the boardwalk, perusing heated stalls selling local goods and goading one another into walking down to the icy shore to test the temperature of the calm ocean water. When they stuck their hands in, it was so cold that it burned. When they finally needed to warm up, they had gone back into the little town to wander in and out of the local shops, talking and joking with the owners and with one another.

When they walked out of their final store, a chocolate shop that Logan in particular had been itching to check out, the sun was just disappearing behind the cliffs overlooking the town. They must have been in there for a while. Longer than Finn had thought, for sure.

Finn stood next to Leo, who was checking out the guidebook again, and watched Logan walk out of the shop after them, a bag of carefully selected chocolates held in his hand. He took a few steps away from the building and stopped, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to pull in a deep breath of seaside air. Finn watched as he breathed out, relaxed. It was something he did often, just taking a moment to take in the fresh air after a long time inside. Finn had noticed him doing the first time they had met, back in Montreal, and it had become engrained in his mind as something quintessentially Logan.

Finn’s stomach gave a loud grumble then, and he pulled his attention from Logan to nudge Leo. “Hey. It’s getting late, no? Do you guys want to get dinner now?”

“I’ve been waiting all day for you to say that!” Leo joked. Logan came back over to join them, and Leo passed him the guidebook as he stretched his arms above his head.

“And Logan can double check, but I actually think we’ve checked off everything in that book now, so the timing is perfect.” He dropped his arms. “Let’s head over?”

Finn led the way through the cheerful streets, scanning storefront signs until he saw the one they were looking for. Feeling dramatic, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, bowing deeply to Leo. “After you, my Louisian Lord.” He frowned at the way the word sounded and looked up to Leo for help. “Louisianian? Louisianan?... Orleanian??”

Leo just looked at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

Finn stood and shrugged. “Maybe. But you still have to go in first. Lo and I don’t know shit about Cajun food. You need to make us look cultured.”

Leo let out a snort at that, but led them into the restaurant anyway, looking around happily as they were led to a table.

The moment they had menus in their hands, Leo immediately took to describing every dish with an over-the-top enthusiasm his composed self rarely showed, and Finn gave up reading his own menu in favour of leaning back and listening to his version of the dishes instead.

A few minutes later, Logan joined suit, closing his menu with a shake of his head.

“Nut, they should hire you to rewrite these descriptions. You make me want to eat everything.”

Leo’s eyes shined. “We should! Let’s just order a bunch of things and share them. There are so many things you need to try.”

Finn shrugged amenably. “Works for me. Will you order? I wanna go wash my hands.” He stood as Leo nodded, eyes still glued to the menu. “Get something with sausage, ok?”

Alone in the washroom, Finn sighed happily as he let the warm water run over his chilled fingers, looking up at his own reflection in the mirror and smiling dopily as he thought about how well his planned day had gone. His eyes moved up to lock on to where he was still wearing Leo’s snapback, and his smile dimmed a bit as he flashed back to the moment he had had with him this morning.

Despite having told himself regularly for the past month that he needed to keep his feelings in check, not let his heart get too attached, this was now the second day in a row that he had let himself get caught with his guard down. Somehow he was getting worse at it, instead of better.

He had a tendency to get lost in the bubble he shared with Leo and Logan whenever they were together, forgetting to remember that for them, it was different. That for them, he was just a friend. And he had still been feeling a little exposed after last night’s crushing reminder of that when he had, without thinking, pulled his own beanie over Leo’s ears that morning. Then Leo’s eyes had locked onto his with that look, that indecipherable look, and he hadn’t been able to dredge up the willpower to turn away. Or, you know. Breathe.

But, he thought to himself, smile returning, Leo hadn’t seemed to notice anything off, or if he had, he had let it go, and the rest of their day had been incredible. Only with Leo and Logan could a winter day in a beach town, of all places, be this much fun. He’d never had this kind of a friendship with anyone before. He dried his hands, wondering vaguely if this was what the characters in Friends felt like with each other. He figured if it was, then Leo and Logan must be his Ross and Chandler.

And he knew he would fight anyone, even his own heart, to ensure they could remain that way.

When Finn came back to the table Leo was just finishing up their order. As the waitress walked away, he relaxed happily back into is seat, the warm light of the restaurant lanterns caught his hair in a way that made it glow like spun gold. His eyes were shining as he looked up at Finn, his smile bright and content.

“Alright, Finn?”

“So alright. And so ready to eat.”

Logan snorted at that. “Nut just ordered half the restaurant, so I hope you’re serious about that.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Leo rolled his eyes. “I ordered a completely reasonable amount of food.”

Finn smirked as a memory resurfaced. “Mmm. Completely reasonable in the way that Logan is a ‘completely reasonable player’?”

Logan gasped at that, looking offended. “Finn! Why do you remember that!”

Finn laughed openly as he dodged the sugar packet Logan threw at him. “How could I forget you beating up Leo on the streets of Montreal?”

Logan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest and a grumpy look on his face that only made Finn laugh more. “You still haven’t come to watch a game. You have no idea how totally reasonable I am.”

“Fair enough.” Finn acquiesced, still chuckling. He caught sight of a server walking toward them with a gigantic tray of food, and his eyes widened in alarm. “But if you and Leo have the same definition of reasonable, I’m thinking it’s going to be an interesting game.”

At that, Leo followed Finn’s gaze and let out a moan so obscene that Finn was sure he would be thinking about it for days. “Oh my god, you guys. Best. Day. Ever.”

Finn just grinned and prepared himself to feast.

---

Logan

Leo ordered too much food.

Despite joking about it while he ordered it, Logan had actually been surprised when their order was dropped at the table. Leo was usually so concerned about food waste, but there had hardly been room for their plates with everything the servers delivered. He knew they were definitely not going to be able to eat it all. He had almost teased him about it, but then Leo had taken his first bite of the jambalaya that he claimed to be ‘exactly like home’, and there was no way Logan was going to say anything that might take that look off of Leo’s face.

But now, after trying to eat as much of the excessive, and admittedly, phenomenal, food as he could, Logan was feeling very full, and very much less inclined to indulge Leo’s desires, which at the moment involved ‘sitting back and letting it digest’. Absolutely not. He needed to move.

It only took a few minutes of pleading to get them standing up, and Logan led them out of the restaurant and onto the street before flipping open the guidebook. “Ok, so Finn said there’s a lookout around here somewhere that we can walk up to. They don’t have it listed as a thing to do in here but I think this is a picture of it. It looks like it’s supposed to be more for watching the sunset, but I think it’ll still be cool to look down at the town, even though it’s already dark.”

Leo voiced his agreement from where he was leaning against the wall of the restaurant. “Let’s do it. Finn, do you know how to get to it?”

“Ummm,” Finn pulled out his phone. “I don’t remember exactly, but I know it’s a trail, not a road to get up there, and it starts closer to where we parked the car.”

“Ok cool,” Logan stomped his feet against the chillier evening air, “lets go to the car then, and we can pull up a map once we’re closer. We should start moving before we get cold.”

Leo pushed off the wall as Finn tucked his phone back into his pocket, and the three of them started moving back down the sidewalk- much more sluggish than they had been before dinner. They didn’t really fit three across, and Logan let Leo and Finn pull in front of him as they talked about the history of Cajun cooking. Logan wasn’t particularly interested in the topic—he couldn’t cook, like Leo could, and he wasn’t all that interested in history, like Finn was—so he let his mind wander as he fell into step behind them.

Seeing the two of them side by side reminded him of this morning, that weird moment outside of the bakery when he had felt, for a moment, as though he was interrupting something. Between them.

It was the way they had both looked vaguely flustered, Leo taking that step back, away from Finn, that had triggered his imagination. He had brushed it off almost immediately; he knew he was projecting, letting the old feelings for Leo that he had been pushing down for so long, and the new ones he was trying desperately to avoid for Finn, make him see things that weren’t there. They had clearly just switched hats, which explained it. It was ridiculous, really, and he knew that. But…

As he walked along behind the two other boys, Logan allowed himself to picture it, just for a moment. The idea of the two of them being together. He thought it would make him sad, but he was surprised to realize that it didn’t. That he liked imagining it.

At least, he liked it until he remembered that if the two of them had each other, there wouldn’t be a place for him anymore. The thought made his heart twist. Even though he knew he would never be able to have either one of them the way he really, truly wanted them, he loved having them like this. As friends.

It was funny, he thought to himself as he watched Leo and Finn chatting casually in front of him. He and Leo had gotten along well from the time they met, but they were definitely closer now. Something about Finn and his chaotic open-heartedness had made them more open too. And as a result, they had gotten closer not just with him, but with each other as well. He would die before he would admit it, but he was glad Leo had dragged him up on that stage.

“Hello, earth to Tremzy?” Logan jolted himself out of his thoughts with a flush, realizing they had reached the car without him noticing.

“Sorry, I got distracted. What’s up?”

Finn was holding up his phone up with his usual cheerfulness, waiting for Logan to look at the map he had pulled up.

“Look, we found the trail head!”

He pointed off the side of the road, where they could just see the very top of a short sign sticking out of the snow. It was very clear that nobody else had gone up to the lookout that winter. The snow was deep and untouched.

“I’m thinking that maybe we could throw on our snow pants and give it a try? And if it turns out to be impossible, we’ll just turn around and roll back down.” Finn tilted his head at Logan and Leo, lips pulled up into an eager, hopeful smile. It was adorable. “What do you think?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, we brought snow pants, might as well get some good use out of them.”

---

Finn

Ten minutes later Finn could hear Logan cursing as he sank in the snow.

“Tabarnak! This is insane! Why am I in the front?? You both have longer legs than me, this snow is over my hips!” He complained.

“You’re Canadian, Tremz. I thought you would know how to handle snow.” Leo was focused on the ground in front of him, picking his way carefully through the trail Logan broke for them. “Plus,” he added thoughtfully, “this is the first time you’ve ever admitted to being short.”

Finn laughed as Logan whirled around with a glare, bending to grab a handful of snow. Leo ducked, laughing, as the snowball flew past his head.

“He’s got goalie reflexes Lo, you’re gonna have to do better than that!” Finn called up over the sounds of Leo’s bright laughter. Logan lifted a hand over his head to flip them off without turning around and they continued their trek up the hill.

By the time they reached the observation deck all three boys were panting.

“Oh my god, it’s hot.” Finn whined as he made his way over to the railing, pulling down his hood. He opened his mouth to say more, but his complaints stuck in his throat as the sight below them came into view.

“Whoa.” He breathed out the word.

He felt Leo and Logan lean against the railing next to him.

“It looks like a postcard.” Leo sounded as awed as Finn, and a quick glance at Logan showed he felt the same.

The town glowed softly below them, the warm light of the streetlamps sparkling prettily off the blanket of snow that covered every peaked roof. The lighthouse they had visited earlier that day was lit up, sending a beautiful reflection rippling through the waves of the never-ending blackness of the ocean in front of it. The moon was full, and the sky was clear, and Finn felt like they had just stepped into the fairy tale. He almost wanted to hold his breath.

The spell was broken when Leo took a step back from the railing to unwind his scarf. He looked apologetic as the other two turned to watch him. “I’m sorry guys, I’m just too hot.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being warm, Leo,” said Finn, smiling at him and taking the opportunity to look around the rest of the platform they stood on.

The observation deck was surrounded by the pristine sparkle of a fresh snowfall, and Finn suddenly had an idea. He trudged through the snow to the other side of the deck, hoisting himself up on to the railing as Logan and Leo looked on in confusion. “What are you doing?” Logan eyed him suspiciously. “I,” he grinned down at them, “am cooling off. And so are you. Come on!” He felt his smile widen as he watched the two boys look between him and the snow on the other side of the railing and connect the dots. To his surprise it was Leo who grinned and climbed up next to him first, looking back at Logan expectantly. “Absolutely not.” Logan shook his head from where he stood resolutely on the deck floor. “It’s gonna be cold.” “Come on Lo,” Finn pouted at him, “it’s not like we’re jumping in the ocean. It’s a snow pile. You have a winter clothes on. Get up here!” Leo joined in, eyes twinkling as he teased his stubborn teammate, “Come on Tremz. All your friends are about to jump off a cliff. Aren’t you gonna do it too?” Logan snorted. “The edge is on the other side of the deck. You’re going to jump ON to a cliff. And no. No, I’m not.”

“I remember saying something similarly ‘no’-like when I was being peer pressured into leaving my nice warm house yesterday.” Finn reminded him pointedly. “I’m sure you will recall how that worked out for me.” “I do.” Logan’s expression suddenly shifted into something more mischievous and his voice turned teasing. “And what made you give in, Finn?”

Finn felt his face go warm as Logan held his gaze. Was he…?

No. He was just trying to get him worked up. Leo had said Logan loved to push people’s buttons. Finn had seen Logan do it. But being on the receiving end of that look was sending a burning feeling straight down to Finn’s core, and he needed to change the subject before it became a much more noticeable problem. “I looked up the menu.” He blurted out. “They had cheese fries” Smooth. Idiot. Finn mentally facepalmed as he put on his best fake haughty expression and looked anywhere but at Logan for a moment as he reined himself in.

Thankfully, Leo came to the rescue, laughing at Finn before looking back at a now grumpy Logan, who was upset that his goading hadn’t worked. “Please Tremz?” He held out a hand, giving him a very exaggerated pout. “You know you want to jump with us.”

Logan looked back and forth between the two of them for a second before rolling his eyes and dropping his arms.

“Fine.” He sighed, resigned. “But if I get sick I’m telling coach both of you threw me in.”

Finn, calm now, beamed at Logan as he batted Leo’s hand away and climbed up on Finn’s other side. “That’s the spirit!”

“Shut up.”

But Finn could see the smile Logan was hiding now as he looked down at the untouched snow below them. “On the count of three?”

They looked between one another as Leo took the lead.

“One. Two. THREE!”

They jumped in sync, screeching as they cannonballed down into fluffy drifts.

Leo immediately scrambled to his feet, eyes sparkling with excitement as he looked down at Finn and Logan. “Again!”

Finn chuckled at that, rolling around to find his own leverage. “Alright then.”

---

The three boys spent the next hour of the evening concocting ever more complex dives into the deep snow. Finn was delighted to find that apparently when it came to snow, it was reasonable, level-headed Leo who was the instigator of the most ridiculous ideas. It was him who came up with the idea of catapulting one another off the railing, making a game of who could knock the snow from the highest branches.

After one final jump, which brought him absolutely nowhere near the record-holding branch, Finn let himself flop backward into the snow, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “My entire body is exhausted.” He groaned. “How do you guys do this for a living?”

Leo and Logan joined him on the ground as Leo responded to him, amusement in his voice. “You really need to come and watch a game if you think this is what we do for a living.”

Finn just laughed. “I meant the exerting yourself part, not the jumping in the snow part. I’m not completely oblivious.”

“Mmhmm. Whatever you say, O’Hara.” Logan was smiling as he leaned back to join Finn looking up at the sky.

Leo laid down on Finn’s other side and the three of them stayed in comfortable silence for a few moments, catching their breath again.

Finn could see their faces in his periphery, the moonlight glowing on Logan’s tan skin, reflecting off of Leo’s golden curls. He felt peaceful, relaxed in their quiet company.

It was Leo who broke the silence, his quiet voice carrying through the late evening calm.

“I haven’t seen the stars like this since I was home.”

Logan leaned up on an elbow to look at him, on the other side of Finn. “Really?”

“Ya.” His voice was almost a whisper now, and Finn turned to look at him too, catching the wistful look in his eyes as he watched the sky. “You can see so many of them at home. I didn’t know I would miss them so much.”

“Knutty…” Logan made a move as though he wanted to reach out, but stopped himself, simply looking at Leo for a moment before lying back down instead. “I didn’t know.”

“I never told you.” Leo responded gently; his eyes still turned up.

Finn followed his gaze up to the glittering ceiling, so high above them. “I get why you would miss them. You never see anything like this in the cities. It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” He agreed, his smile sad.

But then his voice turned playful again, and he smirked as he sat up to look at Finn and Logan, flat on their backs next to him. “Too bad you have to freeze your ass off to see them here. Time to go!” He dug his hands down beside him, flicked handfuls of snow up at both of them, and was up and running to the car before either of them could register the shock of the cold sliding down their faces.

---

The drive back home that night was peaceful. Logan and Leo relaxed in their seats, listening to Finn singing quietly along to the radio as he drove. Logan had teased Finn for knowing all the lyrics to every song that came on (“it’s literally my job, Lo.”), but he had also been the one to ask him to keep singing as he dozed off against his window in the backseat. All three of them were pleasantly sleepy from the day spent out in the cold air.

When they arrived back in Gryffindor, Finn drove past downtown, where Leo’s hotel was, to drop off Logan first. When Logan questioned him about it, Finn simply replied, “You get picked up first, you get dropped off first. I don’t make the rules Lo, I just follow them.”

Logan seemed to be too tired to argue with that logic, so he just shrugged and carried on singing softly with Finn until they reached Dumo’s driveway.

“See you guys later.” He clapped their shoulders, looking tired but happy as he climbed out of the back seat. “Thanks for today, Finn. I had fun.”

“You’re welcome, Lo. Anytime.” Finn smiled at him.

“See you in the morning, Tremz.” Leo added, and the two of them watched as Logan walked up the front steps.

When Logan was safely inside, Finn started the short drive back to the hotel. Leo was still quiet, looking content with his head against the window, studying what little he could see of the stars now that they were back in the city.

Finn kept sneaking glances at him as he went over a plan in his head. He had a reason for dropping Logan off first- he wanted an opportunity to catch Leo alone. Had been waiting for it all day. But now that he had it, he was nervous, and before he knew it they were pulling up in front of the hotel.

“Thanks for today Finn, I had an incredible time.” Leo smiled sincerely at him and turned to open his door. Finn panicked then, not wanting him to leave, and practically screeched his name.

“Leo, wait!”

Leo jumped, eyes wide in confused surprise as he looked back at Finn.

Goddamn, those eyes. Finn had never seen eyes so blue. He had to look away to find his voice again.

“Uh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell that.”

“That’s fine, Harz. What’s up?”

Finn took a breath to steady himself and brought his gaze back up to meet Leo’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were living in hotels?”

Leo’s expression grew even more confused.

“I don’t know… I guess it never came up. It’s not a big deal, rookies do it all the time.”

Finn nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay…” Leo nodded too, waiting for Finn to speak again. When he didn’t, Leo turned to the door again. “Well, thanks again for today, I’ll –“

“You should come and live with me.” Finn blurted it out, and then held his breath as he waited to for a response. He hoped he hadn’t crossed a line. But it made him so sad to think of Leo, kind, sweet Leo, all alone in strange hotel rooms every night. Especially after tonight, after seeing how homesick he really was.

Leo’s eyebrows shot up, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before managing to stammer out, “I- what?”

Finn looked back down at the steering wheel, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He spoke quickly, nervously. “Obviously you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you or anything, that’s definitely not my intention, I just- I mean, I have the space, you know that… and just, the idea of you not having a place that you can call home right now…” He paused for a moment. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to have to experience that. Not when I can help.”

He kept his gaze focused on the steering wheel, the stitching of it suddenly very interesting.

“Finn,” said Leo softly. Finn swallowed once and forced himself to look back up at the younger boy. There was an odd look on his face. Finn hoped it wasn’t a bad sign. “Thank you, for offering.”

Finn nodded, swallowing again even though his mouth felt desert dry.

Leo looked out the window, up at the façade of the Hogwarts Hotel, thoughtful. Finn would have given anything at that moment to know what he was thinking. Leo and his stupid goalie face.

After a moment, he turned back to him. “Are you serious?”

Finn nodded quickly, his confidence starting to return when Leo didn’t laugh at him. “Of course. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. But I’m also serious when I say I won’t be offended if you’re not interested. I know sometimes people don’t like sharing a space.”

Leo let out a breath through his nose and chewed his lip as he considered Finn for a few more moments.

“I think I would like that.” He said, his features softening as he started to smile.

“Really?” Finn was pleasantly surprised. “You would?”

Leo laughed. “I would.”

“Sweet! Ok. Tell me which room you want and I’ll make sure it’s all cleared out for you. Whenever you want to come. You could literally come tomorrow. I have nothing scheduled in those rooms”

Leo leaned back against the seat, shaking his head fondly at Finn’s trademark earnestness. “I’m booked in here until the end of the week. I was supposed to move to another hotel on Friday. Is that too early?”

“No! That’s perfect.”

“Well. Alright then. I guess I’ll be there on Friday.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” They smiled at each other awkwardly for a second, and Leo burst into laughter.

“Okay, now its weird. Goodnight Finn.” He stepped out of the car.

“Goodnight, Leo.”

Finn couldn’t stop grinning the whole way home.

#sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove #Coast To Coast #o'knutzy

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beauregardlionett · 3 years

Text

between the flashes

AO3 Link

Beau was always restless.

In elementary school, her teachers gave her one of those rubber wiggle cushions to sit on, just to keep her in her seat. Her parents let her partake in multiple after-school sports because it meant she would come home already worn out. They wouldn’t have to deal with her energy, and it looked good on college applications later down the line. She had a borderline obscene collection of fidget toys to her name and too many hobbies that she picked up and abandoned when they bored her.

Her friend Caleb from college often commented that he thought her natural state of existence was pure movement.

So how she ended up working part time as a model was beyond Beau. The journey from point A to B became muddled, but it likely began with Beau picking it up as a hobby and then forgetting to put it down again.

Granted, modeling was not a static thing. It involved constantly changing poses, making minute adjustments according to direction or impulse, and sometimes even changing or manipulating outfits. Sitting for hair and makeup was a torturous experience, so Beau had of course learned how to do it on her own. At least it kept her hands in motion.

Whenever she got to do dynamic shoots, Beau remembered why she stuck with modeling this long. They included everything she loved about the gig. Sometimes she got to travel, most of them were outside, and they often involved skills she had picked up from all of those sports she used to partake in.

“Beau,” Yasha called from behind the camera, sounding fondly exasperated. “I know you want to get outside, but you have to hold still for this photo.”

Yasha was an up-and-coming photographer that The Rexxentrum Times had described as “a photographer with a stunningly robust portfolio capturing everything from the playful mundane to the shockingly vulnerable”. She was also, more importantly, Beau’s girlfriend.

To most everyone’s surprise, it was Yasha who had approached Beau first, asking with her trademark quiet hesitance if Beau would model for a shoot. At the time Yasha asked, she was fresh out of college and Beau was two years in and changing her major. She had volunteered to model for an art class that Yasha had been in before her graduation. Apparently she’d made an impression.

The impulsive part of Beau told Yasha yes simply because she found Yasha attractive. The intelligent part of Beau bolstered the continuation of their business partnership after seeing the products of that first shoot.

Falling in love between the flashes had been an inevitable and welcome consequence.

“But babe,” Beau whined, adjusting her pose per Yasha’s patient direction. “I need to run around.”

“We’re almost done, Beau,” Yasha chuckled as she adjusted the light off to the side. “Then I’ll set you loose in a field in an outfit you can get as dirty as you’d like.”

“Fuck yes!” Beau cheered, settling into the nuances of her pose when Yasha stepped back behind the camera. A few snaps and quiet instructions later, Yasha straightened up, clicking through the photos on her display and smiling. It was that tiny, secret and pleased little spread of Yasha’s lips accompanied by an uptick at the corner of her mouth. Beau learned it was an unconscious reaction to her own work when she analyzed the satisfying, finer details.

Eager to see the raw photos, Beau bounded over and draped herself over Yasha’s back, arms flopping over her shoulders.

The concept for Yasha’s latest round of photos centered on flowers - their meaning, depiction, stereotypes and misconceptions. There was some implication among the stills about the flowers being the person, but art had always been beyond Beau. She could appreciate it, sure; all that deeper meaning stuff she would rather listen to Yasha wax poetic about than figure it out herself.

But this photo, this last pose, Beau needed no explanation. Despite being the one in the photo, she hardly recognized herself, feeling breathless.

Beau was in dark red cigarette pants and a deep crimson top. The sleeveless illusion neckline that fastened with a high collar around Beau’s neck offset the fitted sweetheart bodice. There were fake rubies in her ears, her features accentuated by the red eyeshadow on her lids, and the deepest red matte lipstick Beau owned. Yasha had her barefoot and sprawled sideways on an antique chaise lounge, leaning against the raised end with her cheek against her arm. Her hair hung loose, barely styled more than brushing out the waves and crimps from having her hair up in a bun most of the day. It hung over the arm of the lounge, long and dark.

In one hand, dangling toward the floor, Beau held a fistful of red rose petals, more scattered over the floor and the chaise. Between her teeth, she bit down on the blunt stem of a red rose in bloom, making it seem as if the flower was growing from her tongue.

Yasha had told her to go for something like desire with her expression. Everything about the setup of this photo seemed to expect some derivative of sexual interpretation. But Yasha wanted to take that capitalistic view point and have Beau model love - unadulterated affection.

The pose and staging were not what took Beau’s breath away, not the make-up or the flowers, the clothes or the composure. It was her own godsdamned eyes.

She looked right at the camera, but her focus seemed fixated past the lense. The skin around the corners of her eyes was smooth, her brow relaxed. There was a light in her irises, deep and yet affectionate. It softened the rough edges of how Beau presented herself as a model, as a person, and transformed her into love.

Without a doubt, she was looking at Yasha.

“This is beautiful, Beau,” Yasha said, sounding awed. “You look perfect.”

“All thanks to you,” Beau replied, both genuine and attempting to duck praise she still struggled to accept.

Yasha, ever attuned to each of Beau’s fluctuating frequencies, beamed at her. They leaned in together to observe the display, shoulder to shoulder.

“I assume you’re ready to go run in a field now, right?” Yasha was clearly trying to sound cheeky. Her tone, however, was a little too breathy, eyes far too distracted by Beau’s dark red lips to succeed.

“Absolutely,” Beau murmured. It was hard to miss how close their noses were to brushing.

Yasha hummed in response, leaning a little further toward Beau.

Suddenly, this all seemed like a lot.

Beau loved Yasha - in a whole and all-encompassing way. But it wasn’t something she just said every day. It was a gentle, ever present simmer of a thing. Love lived in her chest and made itself known in minuscule ways. She felt it like a tingle in her fingertips when she and Yasha traded coffee creamer and jam jars as they made breakfast. Love shaped her smile in a million different degrees whenever Yasha did something extremely...Yasha. It released her most honest form of laughter late at night when it was just the two of them and a bottle of wine.

Love appeared as wildflowers picked on a whim - not intentional roses. It lingered like Yasha’s favorite band t-shirt from high school Beau now had as part of her own wardrobe - not slimming pants and sexy shirts.

And while their first kiss had been the product of a dramatic build-up of emotion and pining, this was not them now. She trusted Yasha, but this unexpected snapshot of vulnerability destabilized Beau and found her unprepared for the aftershocks.

Beau was impulsive when overwhelmed.

Yasha leaned in for a kiss, lips parted just so, eyes closed, a breath away. Beau puckered her lips and blew a quick burst of air right against Yasha’s mouth.

Yasha pulled back sharply, blinking in surprise as she stared down at Beau. Unable to help it, Beau laughed at the expression on Yasha’s face, who was quick to recover, more than used to Beau’s antics. Grinning, she made a grab for Beau, who danced out of Yasha’s reach, laughing louder as she squealed and darted around the studio.

Beau moved fast, but Yasha was right on her heels and had strength and impressive reach working for her. It didn’t take long for her to catch Beau by the waist, twirling her around in a back hug. She used their position to her advantage, peppering quick, tickling kisses over Beau’s shoulders and neck. Beau squirmed and giggled, trying to either wriggle to freedom or twist around in Yasha’s arms so that she could fight back with kisses of her own. Eventually, breathless, Beau gave up and let Yasha hold her, both drunk off of laughter as Yasha put her down.

Twisting around once her feet met the floor, Beau looked up at Yasha, cheeks aching with her grin. There was nothing but absolute adoration shaping Yasha’s expression as she brushed Beau’s hair back from her face. Something vulnerable gave a mild twist beneath Beau’s ribs, but she didn’t pull away or stop smiling.

She trusted Yasha. Now that Beau had her balance, her feet stable beneath her, it became easier to face everything.

Yasha leaned in and kissed Beau’s brow with gentle attention. Beau clung to Yasha’s wrist where she cradled Beau’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Beau whispered - for what, even she didn’t know. But Yasha seemed to understand.

“Now,” Yasha said, pulling back with a grin. “Ready to go outside?”

“Hell yeah!” Beau cheered, darting off to gather her next outfit and make-up wipes.

She might not always have the wherewithal to put her emotions into words, but she had Yasha. That was more than enough.

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha #writing #my writing #please accept this small modern au photographer and model au chapter #blah blah something about the night yorb

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aquamarina7 · 3 years

Text

The Snake Pit- Zutara one-shot

· Zutara drabble

· Fire Lord x Fire Lady

· Words: 2,700

· Summary: Katara wakes up from a disturbing dream that sets her day off down a surprising spiral. This is set on one day, post-war, Zuko and Katara are now married and living together at the palace.

************************

A snake, large and hungry peered out of the deep pit in the desert. She looked around for anyone, anything that could help her but there was nothing but dust for miles. The snake could smell her. It slowly slid out of the pit and crawled towards her. She wanted to run but her feet remained planted to the floor. As the snake moved closer, it grew in size. It hissed and opened it’s mouth. She could feel the ground shift as it slid closer and closer and bit her.

Katara jumped up out of her dream, sweating. She panted heaily and parted the knotted hair from her face. She stretched out her hand in the dark to reach for the glass of lukewarm water by the side of her bed. Her pants subsided slowly as she gulped down the cool water that felt healing to her body. As she drank the liquid heavily the body beside her started stirring. Zuko rolled sleepily on his side and glanced up at her through matted hair.

“Another nightmare?” he groaned.

“Yeah” she whispered weakly as she settled back into the bed, face up. Zuko cleared his throat and shuffled up the bed to place his arm under her neck for support.

“What was it this time?” he peered at her in the dark.

“The snake again” she sighed and turned to him, her face still haunted by the dream.

“Come here” Zuko pulled her closer into his chest and kissed to top of her head “they’ll pass Katara. Trust me. If not, I may have to jump into one of those dreams and slay the snake once and for all, like I did the dragon” she chuckled softly and looks up at him.

“You did not slay that dragon Zuko, Aang told me the real story, remember” she poked at his side.

“Well maybe I need to speak to Aang to get our stories straight on that one” His smile made her feel warm again and the last images of her dream seeped away. “You know-” Zuko began after a few moments of silence “You may be lucky.”

“Lucky?” she asked.

“A reoccurring dream, I mean. It’s good luck here” Katara scoffed “No, I mean it. We have gurus, oneirocritics, dream interpreters. They tend to live way out in the outskirts. They read futures and mix potions. It all mainly old wives tales, but the people in the fire nation really believe in them” Katara played mindlessly with her fingers.

“Oh really?” she grinned “and what’s your analysis Fire Lord?”

“Well…” Zuko scratched the back of his head “Maybe I’m the snake” he slowly began to wrap his arms around her “and I’m coming to catch you and make you mine!” he tightened his hold on her, his arms tightening around her like a boa constrictor and playfully jumped on top of her.

“It wouldn’t be the first time” she grinned daringly. He attacked her with kisses and she fought back with her own. He stopped and stared deeply into her, his arms locked and sturdy. Her hand rose to push his long hair out of his face.

“I love you” she whispered and leant upward to meet his lips. He leant in and deepened their kiss; closing the space between them to feel her body underneath his. He pressed himself down to feel her and they both gasped for air. A small moan left Katara’s mouth before the door to their room flew open and a strong stream of light entered in.

“Fire Lord Zuko, the Ambassador arrived late last night, he is scheduled to meet with you in an hour. Before that, you must remember to sign the Shi Treaty and write to General Iroh when you get the chance. Oh, and good morning Lady Katara, you are representing both the North and South pole in today’s agreements as Master Feng can’t be present unfortunately. You also will host Lady Wren later this week, but other than that, you’re relatively free today.”

“Morning Lou” Katara growled from underneath Zuko, still in their intimate position.

“Lou, what did we say? No interruptions until 6 O’clock” Zuko turned to face her. Lou was a middle-aged women with short greying hair. She was Zuko’s chief assistant and constantly walked with a long task scroll and a team of staff behind her. Her staff scuttled around the room, welcoming the morning in. They opened the blinds, began to run water, take out dress robes and placed a tray of fruit down on the table in the middle of the large open area.

“Yes sir, and I believe it was 6, 4 minutes ago!” she exclaimed. Zuko scowled and arose to drape a silk burgundy rope around his bare chest. Katara sat up and pulled her loose curly hair into a bun on top her head. She dismissed the servants silently and watched them file out the room.

“Lou, if we could just have one more minute, we would greatly appreciate it” she said softly as she looked over at an annoyed Zuko.

“As you wish my Lady, but we will need to get going soon” Lou bowed and took a few steps back.

“Of course Lou, we’ll be right with you” Katara smiled her best ‘please-leave’ smile as Lou exited the room. They both let out a big sigh.

“I hate it when she does that” Zuko sulked, stretching his long arms up towards the ceiling.

“I know, I understand she has a job to do, but a knock would be nice” she chuckled as she walked up and gave a light hug to his stretched torso. His arms dropped to her waist and she gave a light peck to the warm skin peaking out his robe.

“See you tonight then” he spoke into her hair and then swiftly headed out towards the door. “I love you!” he shouted as he left and she smiled.

************************

Katara’s day went relatively normal from then, she was pushed into different rooms with different people, signed many scrolls that were shoved into her hand. She bowed to officials and everyone else bowed to her. What had made her day worse was how uncomfortable her dress robes were this particular day. Katara had spent the first few months after she had become fire lady, trying her best to fit into the strange traditions of the fire nation. Their clothing was one of her biggest battels and the itchy silks and tight corsets were far from the comfort she has once known. After weeks of light-headedness from what could be only be explained as suffocation from her gowns, Katara met with her tailor to design garments that were less constricting and used a mix of materials from the water tribes and fire nation, that she was so used to. Being able to breath made her more productive as a fire lady and actually started a trend in the fire nation. It was common now to see noble ladies with fur trims and loosely wrapped fabrics walk the palace halls. This did not explain, however, the way her dress robes sat tightly against her on this particular day, which she was sure was to blame for the tiredness she felt halfway through her third official meeting of the day. She reminded herself to visit the tailor that week.

“Lady Katara, your next appointment has arrived” Lou appeared out of nowhere and interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh, I thought you said I was free the rest of the day?” Katara heavily raised herself from the soft chair she had comfortably been dozing off in.

“Yes, but Lord Zuko arranged you to meet the local oneirocritic guru impromptu this afternoon” Katara laughed out loud, unladylikely, and fixed the tight belt around her “is something wrong my Lady?”

“No, not at all Lou. Lord Zuko just has a silly sense of humour, that’s all” Katara chuckled. “Okay, so where am I meeting them?”

“Right this way.”

Lou led Katara round to the west of the palace, the quieter side. She met Guru Sying in a smoky room full of incense. She had placed several precious stones and branches around her and sat humming. Katara took a seat on the bamboo mat. There was a hot cup of tea in front of her that as she began to sip tasted sour in her mouth; she winced in disgust of the tea and set it down, trying her hardest not to insult the Guru’s kind gesture.

“Tell me of about your dream my Lady” the guru said softly. Katara fiddled with the tight fabric around her to get comfortable, took a deep breath and began to recount her reoccurring nightmare. The guru calmly ‘ummed’ and ‘ahhed’ at different points until she came to an end.

“So what do you think?” Katara asked inquisitively, genuinely interested to see if anyone could make sense of things right now.

“Well, the snake is not an uncommon character in one’s dream” Guru Sying began “the snake often represents fertility. And the snake biting you, is quite clear to me-”

“Wait, you think my dream means I’m, I’m…” Katara stuttered, unable to find the word.

“Well, how long have you been struggling to get in that robe” the Guru pointed out “and does the taste of duraaj tea always repulse you?” she smiled softly and gestured to the full cup sat in front of her.

“No, I can’t be” Katara shook her head

“You’ve been married to the Fire Lord for over two years now, have you not my Lady?”

“Yes”

“A long time indeed. And have you seen your physician recently?”

“No, I…..- LOU!” Katara yelled. Lou slid open the bamboo slides and poked her head through.

“Send for my physician please. Quickly!” She stared at Guru Sying in shock and Guru Sying held out her hands for Katara to take “Your dream is a sign from Agni, Lady Katara” she smiled.

************************

Katara sat in the bedroom all evening to escape the chaos of the palace. She slept a few hours until she heard the sounds of Zuko’s voice close by. She could hear him desperately trying to end a conversation as he retired into their quarters. When he made it through past their private commons, into the bedroom, he immediately dropped his heavy robes to the floor and stepped out of the first golden layers of the garment. Katara sat up from the bed and watched him silently until he turned around.

“Oh you’re here!” he smiled a broad smile as he came towards her. “well what did you think of my surprise” he laughed, smugness painted across his face, clearly he thought he had played a successful prank on her “did she get anything right?” he beamed.

“Oh, she was definitely right about one thing” Katara replied.

“Oh wow. I just sent for her to make you laugh, but that’s great if it helped. Tell me about it.” He took a seat beside her on the bed. Katara sat up and tried to speak but nothing came out.

“Katara? Is everything alright? What did she tell you? You have to believe me whatever it was, they’re just superstitious stories. Nothing to worry about” he took her hand in his.

“Well, she said the snake represents… fertility” she began

“Uh-oh, do we need to be more careful” Zuko joked and playfully squeezed her thigh, met with nothing but a serious stare “Sorry, I guess I should leave the jokes to Sokka. And?”

“And, she said I should be looked over by my physician” Katara continued “and… well. Zuko I’ve missed 4 cycles and my robes are tight and I think…” she clung to his hands “I think I may be, be pregnant Zuko.” She took the courage to look up into his eyes. He didn’t blink and she felt the temperature rise in their clasped hands. “Zuko?” she lifted her hands to his face to check for a reaction.

“And you’re sure?” he got out dryly

“Well, it kind of explains everything.” She smiled shyly. Zuko’s eyelashes batted and a hot tear fell and evaporated on his cheek.

“Katara” he began “I love you and you know I want to be so happy in this moment with you” his face fell “but you know how I feel about becoming a…..a father” his lips quivered. Katara had prepared herself for these words. Even when the physician had examined her and excitedly announced her pregnancy, her small smile quickly dissolved when thoughts of Zuko crept into her mind. She had remembered the long nights before their wedding. Zuko had finally opened up and discussed his largest fear. That he would become like his father, Ozai. He told her that as long as he felt that there was any chance of him being anything like his father, he would never father is own children, no matter how much the palace officials begged him. Katara understood him and welcomed his fears to comfort him. She thought, surely as the years passed, he would become confident in his role as Fire Lord and those fears of fatherhood would be destroyed; however, over two years after her wedding and she still drank the medicinal tea once a week to control her cycle. Of course, the tea was never an 100 percent guarantee, however, it had worked so well for them and their schedules with each other and it had been so long since she had had a pregnancy scare.

“Zuko, listen to me. I know you’re scared but you are not like him. You’re nothing like Ozai” Zuko’s face turned. I hurt to hear his name “-and you’ve proved that through your reign so far as fire lord” she held him sturdy.

“You don’t get it. That has nothing to do with who I will be as a father” he gulped

“It has everything to do with who you are as a father Zuko” Katara held onto his shoulder to bring him square onto her. “you are a loving and caring fire lord. You protect your people and are forgiving of their short-comings. You have made so many right decisions in your years in power and these are qualities I know you will be as a father” before Zuko’s head could sink any further Katara caught it in her hand and lifted his eyes to her.

“I don’t want to be like him Katara. I can’t see myself becoming like him” he wept “what he did to my mother, me, my Uncle, even Azula. It was unforgiveable” his hand rose to the scared side of his face. Katara stopped him and place her own hands in his scar. She stroked her thumb across the rough, hot skin and planted and long and soft kiss there.

“Zuko, you would never hurt me or our child. That’s not who you are.” He looked up at her “This child is our chance to continue what you have started as Fire Lord. To continue to spread love and compassion and all the crazy things we’ve learnt together with the Fire Nation. This is the way we ensure our legacy, what we stand for lives on” she pulled his hand to her stomach “I know you’re ready for this, even if you don’t know it yourself” he gave a short reassuring smile.

“You really think I’m ready?” he asked, almost like child. Katara smiled

“I knew you were ready two years ago, when I married you.” She leant her head on his shoulder. He didn’t move “you think I would have married you if I didn’t believe you would be a good father?!” she joked. She felt him settle around her, his hand still on her stomach

“I guess not” he lightly chuckled “It was hard enough to get you to marry me”

“Was not!” she pushed him

“You said NO!”

“-the first time” she giggled “we’re not starting this again” she stood up

“I’m just saying, I’m not someone who likes to ask twice” he followed her to the middle of the room. “So…” he slowly entwined his fingers in hers.

“So, we’ve got this.” She smiled into him “Together” he closed the gap between them and kissed a calming kiss that sank down to her feet. Two loud bangs suddenly echoed through the room, disrupting their stillness.

“Fire Lord Zuko!” they heard a breathless call. They both sighed and shared a small smile at each other.

“I’m coming Lou” Zuko calls back; he shares one last moment with his wife, taking in all her pregnancy aura.

“At least she knocked this time” Katara chuckled.

#zutara #zutara month #zutaramonth #zutara month 2021 #atla fanfic #atla #zuko #katara #zuko x katara #lady katara #fluff #zutara fluff

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olivinesea · 3 years

Text

A Mixed Blessing

Chapter List

chapter four: talking in your demon voice

a/n: It’s my birthday! So it’s Hotch’s birthday too. Warning for substance use, as you might have suspected. ~2.6k

Aaron’s fifteenth birthday came and went without any mention or change in his home. He’d grown past the point of caring or expecting anything from his family. It was enough to just make it through the day without being noticed. To make it through unscathed. After dinner he helped Sean get ready for bed while his mother cleaned and his father settled into his favorite chair to begin his nightly ritual of slipping under the veil of alcohol fumes. If everyone was lucky he wouldn’t get up again that evening.

After Sean took a bath, Aaron helped him pull on his soft red pajamas, cozy in the late fall air. Hair still damp, it stuck up in odd places around the crown of his head. He moved slowly, sucking on his bottom lip, seeming to be waiting for something. Aaron pulled back the covers, inviting him over.

“C’mon, if you hurry up I can read you a story.”

He didn’t move. “Aaron?”

He frowned slightly, unsure what was going through the child’s mind. “What’s up?”

Sean scrunched up his face. “Is it your birthday?”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah buddy, it’s my birthday.”

Relief immediately washed over the child’s face, quickly followed by confusion. “We didn’t have a cake.”

Aaron sighed. “It’s okay, I don’t really like cake that much.”

“But you have to blow your candles out and make a wish. That’s what we do on my birthday.”

Aaron looked at him steadily, his face still round with baby fat, blue eyes searching beneath furrowed brows. He wondered when he’d grown into this little person, forming opinions on the world around him. Sean had an acute sense of justice, a child’s insistence on fairness and parity being the same thing. Aaron shrugged a shoulder, “I don’t need to wish for anything.”

“Why?”

Aaron exhaled sharply though his nose, tired of this conversation, not wanting to get into a long string of why’s, just wanting to get out of the house, treat himself to his own birthday celebration. “Okay I have one wish: I wish you would get in bed.”

Sean didn’t move, exploring the limit of his autonomy. Aaron patted the bed, trying to ignore the irritation crawling up the back of his neck. “Please Sean, it’s getting late.”

Sean sighed, relenting but not moving towards the bed. Instead he walked over to the child sized table and chair where he kept some puzzles and art supplies. He carefully pulled a folded paper from under a stack. Aaron watched his brother’s determined actions from his seat on the bed. Sean held the paper close to his chest as he walked back to the bed. He seemed a little self-conscious.

“I made you a birthday card.” He paused. “I did it all by myself.”

Aaron’s heart melted, feeling guilt for his earlier irritation.

“Can I read it to you?”

“Of course, come here,” Aaron said, pulling Sean up on the bed beside him. Sean leaned against his side as he held out the card. Thick marker lines messily spelled out a birthday wish in shaky letters, jumbled randomly. Sean had only just begun learning the alphabet. There were a few unrecognizable designs that Aaron thought might be cars or birds. He smiled as Sean pointed to the letters, reading out his current version of what it said, a rambling child’s message of happiness. Aaron felt his throat closing, thinking about all the choices he’d been making, about how often he left Sean here alone with their parents, unprotected. Yet Sean loved him anyway. He didn’t deserve that love. Sean finished his recitation of the the card’s contents and looked up at Aaron expectantly.

“Thanks buddy, I love it.” He squeezed him to his side. “I love you Sean.”

The little boy rubbed his face into the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, making a small noise of happiness. An image of himself, faded and disconnected, flashed through his mind and he squeezed tighter, causing Sean to squeak in protest.

“Sorry,” Aaron muttered, releasing him. “Alright, bedtime for real. Lay down.”

Sean wriggled into his sheets, smiling to himself at the gift he’d given. Aaron pulled the blankets up to his shoulders.

“Story?” Sean asked hopefully but Aaron shook his head. He needed to go, the guilt was becoming unbearable. That he could be so irresponsible while Sean was here, perfect in his childhood, worrying about whether his big brother got to blow out birthday candles, was too much. His self loathing was threatening to overwhelm him and he couldn’t be around Sean when that happened. He needed to run, run to the escape he’d found in abandoned sheds and unused garages. Sean stuck out his bottom lip, ready to complain. Aaron just leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

“Thank you for the birthday card.” He held it to his chest to show how much it meant to him and Sean smiled sleepily. “Sweet dreams, kid.”

Aaron ruffled his hair before heading out of the room, turning off the lights as he left, making sure the door was closed. In the hallway he looked at the card again, the brightly colored scribbles searing through his chest like a knife. He felt an urge to tear it up but gritted his teeth and folded it carefully, sticking it in his back pocket. He stopped in his room long enough to grab his coat and a beanie then slipped out the back door before either of his parents could notice him leaving.

He was going to meet Cole. He’d started spending more time with the older boy, time outside of school hours. A few times a week he’d find himself following him to various locations where other teenagers would be loitering, making the same dumb choices that teenagers had always made. He hated being there, uncomfortable and ignored. He’d tuck himself into a corner with a beer and watch Cole lord over the group, holding their attention with his darkly iridescent personality. Some nights they barely spoke and Aaron wondered if he was even really supposed to be there. He’d think about ducking out, heading home to the familiar loneliness that wasn’t him being forced to watch others as they became louder and dumber. But as soon as he’d make the decision, start moving in the direction of a door, Cole was always there, right at his side, grabbing his elbow, pulling him to a circle of smokers or handing him another drink.

Cole noticed how nervous, how uncomfortable Aaron was and if anything he found it funny. One night, as Aaron’s eyes darted around a crowded living room, Cole smirked and dragged him outside, handing him a cigarette.

“Here, something to do.”

Aaron didn’t like the way it tasted, didn’t like the way the smoke lingered in his mouth like he’d eaten a fistful of ash, didn’t like the sick, hollow feeling it created in his stomach. But he liked having an activity. Standing by yourself was much less noticeable with a cigarette in your hand. Time passed faster when punctuated by smoke breaks. However, he didn’t like always having to ask, like a child asking for one more treat. When he saw a pack in someone’s unattended bag he lifted it without a second thought. When Cole raised his eyebrows at him, questioning as he pulled out his own cigarette he felt a small smile of satisfaction curl the corners of his mouth. Cole laughed at this and held up his lighter, the flame just far enough away that Aaron had to lean forward to reach it. Cigarette lit, Aaron straightened, catching a flicker of emotion crossing Cole’s face. He replaced it with a humorless grin before Aaron could interpret it fully.

Not for the first time he questioned the wisdom of his choice to spend his time with this person who’s motivations he couldn’t pin down. He took a drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs, no resistance, all sensitivity burned away at this point. He looked at Cole again as he exhaled in to the chilled night air. He looked pleased and Aaron couldn’t deny the warmth that it caused to spread to his fingertips. Cole winked at him before turning away to talk with a group gathered nearby. Aaron clung to the warmth, inhaling again to try to pull it back in as it filtered away with Cole’s attention. He hated to admit it but he would wait around for more of that feeling. He wandered to the corner of the building and sunk down against the wall, pulling his knees into his chest, ashing on to the bare dirt beside him. He could be patient.

Tonight would be no different he assumed. He’d developed a system. First he would check Cole’s grandma’s house since that was the easiest place to get to, only a mile or so from Aaron’s own house. If he wasn’t there, Aaron would go on to the shed in the woods, where, hopefully, Cole would be lounging in his feline way, watchful eyes and retracted claws at the ready. Sometimes they stayed there, sometimes he’d get dragged to some social gathering. Other times no one was there and Aaron would make himself comfortable on one of the busted couches, pulling out his own small stash of weed that he’d started carrying around and smoke until he couldn’t think straight. Only then would he wander home, when he got too cold to be there anymore and he was certain his family would be long asleep, his father too unconscious to hear him stumble back in.

Tonight he was lucky, finding Cole at the first location. He could tell he was home by the light shining through the small high windows of the garage. The door was partially raised but not enough to see inside. Aaron leaned close and knocked on it, calling softly,

“Hey, it’s me.”

He heard some swearing and some rustling as Cole came over to lift the door higher, allowing Aaron access. He didn’t bother greeting him, only turning away immediately to go back to his desk where he was messing with something small. Aaron was used to this behavior by now, though it had confused him at first, thinking that it must mean he wasn’t welcome. But Cole was just like that, sometimes so focused on him that it felt like he was cutting through Aaron with his attention and sometimes so distracted that he didn’t notice or even seem to recognize him. It still made Aaron a little uncomfortable, not knowing what he would be getting, but it wasn’t like he had better options for company.

He went and sat on the corner of Cole’s bed, just a mattress on the ground and the only other furniture in the garage besides the table and chair pushed up against the wall. There were some milk crates and cardboard boxes with unfolded clothes and other odds and ends. Some rusty and broken bikes and an old TV that turned on but mostly only got static. Aaron picked at a hole forming in the knee of of his jeans, waiting for Cole to say something to him, considering if he should start rolling a joint. He was unclear on the rules for this place; sometimes he’d arrive with the air filled with smoke and Cole lazily smoking on the bed. Other times he’d suggest it and get met with a sharp comment, something cutting about how he needed to calm down, not be such a damn pothead. It was unnerving. But it was Aaron’s birthday and he had been sober for too much of it. He pulled out his supplies, grabbing a magazine that had been discarded on the ground to use as a work surface.

“Put that shit away.”

He looked up at Cole who was unexpectedly standing above him, holding something carefully in his hands. He opened his mouth to protest, he really needed this right now, needed to get away from all these thoughts that were chasing him. But Cole glared at him so he set the magazine down, careful not to spill what he’d already put out. Pleased with being obeyed, Cole smiled and sat down beside him.

“I’ve got something better for you, birthday boy.”

Despite the whiplash of Cole’s demeanor, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a happiness that someone, this someone, his only friend, had remembered his birthday. Side by side now, he could feel the heat of the other boy’s body even though they were not quite touching, too aware of his presence. He chewed on his lip, trying to understand what he was seeing in Cole’s hands. It looked like tiny pieces of trash: some foil, a straw too short to drink from, something dark and sticky looking.

“Here, hold this.” He handed over the tiny straw, chuckling at the confusion on Aaron’s face. “When I light this you’re gonna inhale as long as you can and then hold your breath. Okay?”

Aaron frowned, “Sure.”

Cole held the foil so it was at chest height. He leaned forward slightly.

“With the straw, dumbass.”

Aaron blushed but held the straw to his lips. The smoke that filled his lungs tasted unlike anything he had ever had before. He almost wanted to stop, to ask more questions but felt Cole’s eyes on him, demanding he continue. When his lungs were so full he felt like they might burst, he sat up again. Cole placed a finger on his lips, reminding him to hold the smoke in. Aaron looked at him, trying to read the thoughts so clearly running through the other boy’s mind. He felt certain it wasn’t something he would like to hear. Just when he thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen, Cole dropped his hand. Relieved, Aaron exhaled, shaking his head at the taste.

“Again.”

“What? Why? What even is that?” He didn’t feel any different and he wasn’t particularly comfortable with how that had just happened.

“Shut up, just do it.” Cole’s eye’s flashed, his smile sharp.

Aaron stared at him for a moment, then relented. They repeated the process and this time Aaron started to feel a heaviness settle over him, like his body was being coated in warm syrup. He smiled unconsciously as he exhaled.

“See,” Cole said, his voice sounding distant. “I told you so.”

Aaron’s eyes even felt heavy as he tried to look at Cole, wondering if he’d said something without realizing it. He could feel his blood pulse, his brain vibrating like a cat purring.

“One more time, birthday boy.”

Aaron gave up on trying to turn his head, just leaning forward again to meet the smoke. He lost his grip on time, couldn’t make any of the shapes around him make sense. For a second, panic surged through his chest, he couldn’t move. A hand gently pressed him backwards, falling in slow motion, eventually meeting the softness of the mattress. He squinted his eyes at the light and the colors floating above him.

“Just close your eyes.”

He felt fingertips ghosting over his eyelids as he complied. He smiled, or he thought he was smiling at least. His mouth didn’t seem to be very accessible at the moment but he didn’t mind. He felt warm, the kind of warmth that came from fleece lined blankets and fuzzy socks and the certainty that no one was coming to hurt him, that he was so well hidden they could never find him. He was lost and he hoped to stay there forever.

chapter five

#Criminal Minds #tw substance use #aaron hotchner #young hotch #a mixed blessing

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liukangmybeloved · 3 years

Text

everyone else is fighting for second {Mortal Kombat (2021)}

SPOILERS FOR MORTAL KOMBAT (2021)

Summary: Canon Divergent AU. Crack & Fluff. The team develops into something of a found family, which happens to include Cole's actual family. They take a day off from fighting to go to the fair, where the biggest question is 'who is Cole's daughter's favourite in the team?' Besides her dad, of course. Kano is very competitive about this question.

A/N: 1968 words. I will take a meat-tenderizer and FIX the canon and make it SOFT. i love cole young and mk 2021, if you don't like that, you've been warned. everybody lives/nobody dies AU & kano isn't a traitor. also imagine there's just like.... more time before the tournament. enough to become a found family. like i said, fluff & crack. warnings for swearing.

If Cole had it his way, Emily and Kano would have never met. He would be perfectly happy letting everyone else on the team meet her, but he's yet to hear a single sentence leave Kano's mouth that didn't include some colourful variation of 'fuck', 'shit', 'wanker', or 'cunt'. So unsurprisingly, he wasn't exactly eager to let his teenager daughter near the man who Sonya had literally called 'scum of the Earth', but alas.

"I'll be on my best behaviour, pinky-swear!" Kano's grin was all teeth as he'd held his pinky finger up to Cole's glowering face, wiggling it a little when Cole made no move to finish the pinky-swear.

"If you say - cunt -" and the word sounds so uncomfortable coming from Cole, he damn well looks uncomfortable just saying it, "within a hundred feet of her, I'll get Kung Lao to cut you in half." And he gesutres over to where Kung Lao and the rest of their ragtag bunch of misfits; the man in question had forgone his usual weapon for a more modern, soft-brimmed sunhat, but his jaunty wave to Kano at the sound of his name still managed to be menacing. The Australian shuddered in horror at the mere thought; at least he took the threat seriously.

"You don't have to be jealous, man," the threat seemed to only have dampened Kano's jovial attitude momentarily, as he's got a spring in his step as he follows Cole to the rest of the gathered champions, "Uncle Kano's gonna set a fuckin' - flippin' -" he corrects himself as Cole shoots him a warning look, "great example." Sonya barks a loud, derisive laugh as Cole sees fit to remind him that he's not Uncle Kano.

"Emily's a good kid," Liu Kang assures, kind and sincere.

"Yeah, she never even believes me when I tell her Kano's a dirty, little rat," Kung Lao smirks in the face of Kano's sudden outrage, and Cole is pretty sure that, despite it being Emily and Alison's idea, to give the team a day of levity and to bond, this might be the worst plan he's ever agreed to.

"This is a day of bonding, not of infighting," Raiden's voice joins them, followed by the God himself only moments later, which is enough to unite all the champions in confusion at his choice of wardrobe for the day. While still sporting a majority of his usual attire, somehow he'd managed to procure a t-shirt with a meme of all things on it, a personalised meme!

"I designed it myself, I think it turned out pretty okay; whaddya think?" Kano sounded far too proud of himself, looking at the cartoon drawing of what could only be Raiden himself pointing awkwardly at Thor as depicted in Marvel Comics, who was pointing back.

"We are both Gods of Thunder," Raiden explained, pointing to his own shirt; Sonya had gone wide-eyed, unsure of how to react, while Jaxx was doing his utmost not to burst out laughing.

"I... didn't know you knew what a meme was," Cole admits, though honestly, once the shock had worn off of, it was rather charming.

"I didn't know you knew what a meme was," Kano fired back, equally confused.

"I have a thirteen-year-old, of course I know what a meme is -" but then it seems to hit him just as it hits Sonya and Jax, and the three of them turn to the pair of confused, cave-dwelling, internet-free champions. None of them knew where to begin trying to explain the whole situation, but thankfully, Raiden chose that moment to open a lightning portal, and they all headed through quickly.

----

The night that Cole and his family had gone home after everything had gone down, the fighting, Sub-Zero, and the man he's pretty sure is the ghost of his ancestor, Emily had looked him dead in the eye and called him a super hero.

And then told him that his friends were really cool.

This was a sentiment that his new friends seemed to share about his family.

Cole quickly comes to realise that family isn't something a lot of the rest of the team have nowadays; they have each other, but for a lot of them, that's mostly it. He sits on an invite to dinner that he'd already ran past Alison several days ago, before inviting Liu Kang and Kung Lao over, if nothing else, to repay the hospitality they'd shown him so early on.

Alison's rule was that there was to be peace on their property; no training, no fighting, but the team was welcome as long as they didn't bring trouble to the door.

So then it was Sonya and Jaxx, who brought dessert when they came over.

Emily once asked what Thunder Gods ate. Did they eat? Cole wasn't sure. He extends an invite to Raiden anyways, but it's politely declined. The next time, however, he took up Cole's invite, mostly for the company, and to thank Alison and Emily for their patience; having Cole away so often wasn't easy, he'd be the first to acknowledge that. Alison appreciated the sentiment, as did Emily, though she was also just bursting with questions for the God, and he did his best to answer what he could.

Then finally - finally - after so long spent with the team, of most of them coming to find comfort and serenity in his home on the occasions that they need it, Kano is invited to Sunday lunch too.

----

"I know us champions and our super powers are pretty cool," Kano says to Emily, the moment they step through the lightning portal and emerge into the sunshine and the noise of the fair, "but I'm your favourite, right? Besides your old man, of course," and he rolls his eyes a little at that, as does Cole, for very different reasons, while Alison shoots Cole a questioning look. Thankfully she still does not trust Kano as far as she could throw him.

For her part, Emily answers incredibly diplomatically, sounding much older than her thirteen years, and quite a bit like her mother;

"Kano, you're a grown man, my approval shouldn't matter to you," she sounds sincere, which is completely undercut by Kung Lao sliding into step beside Kano.

"Which means you're not her favourite," he teases, and Kano practically growls back, embarrassed, while Emily calls out to Raiden that she likes his shirt. He practically beams.

"Not a lot of people will really get it, though," she points out, and Raiden muses on that for a moment.

"But I get it, and it's mine."

"Fair point," Emily nods at that, as their strange group steps up to buy tickets.

---

Emily spends more of the fair of people's shoulders than she does actually walking, which delights her endlessly. Mostly she's up on Jax's shoulders, and charges her cotton candy for the ride, ripping a small chunk from the one Cole had bought for her.

"It's weird seeing you all look so normal," she says to Sonya, the two of them in line for the Dodge 'Em Cars alongside Liu Kang and Kung Lao. Sonya grins, knows exactly what she means, gaze turning to the two members of the Shaolin Order of Light, not that anyone would know simply from looking at them now. Where Liu Kang had found a pair of trendy, ripped jeans was beyond Sonya's imagination.

"You look cool, though," Emily amended quickly, "I didn't realise you all would come to the fair, but I'm glad you did," she's smiling brightly as they get closer to the front of the line.

"Who did you expect to come along today?" Liu asks, eyes wide and curious. It wasn't that he was as competitive as Kung Lao or Kano, but he still found the child's interpretation of their group to be interesting. She knows, in some capacity, what they're capable off; she'd watched her father slice, dice, and kill Goro after all. The fact that she could think so highly of them speaks a lot to her capacity for kindness, or perhaps her childish naivety, but Liu preferred to think it was the former.

Emily, however, goes quiet, seems to be a little embarrassed. She mutters something, avoiding eye contact with any of them, and Liu goes to ask her to repeat herself, but she interrupts him while doing so;

"I wanted Dad to have a day off," she admitted, before adding, "and... and Lord Raiden; I don't think he's had a day off this millennium."

"It's good of you to look out for them," Sonya tells her fondly, "our team can be pretty single-minded, but we needed this day off, I think." And she gives Emily a pet on the shoulder, and lets her steer the tandem Car when they finally get a turn.

----

"It's me, right? I'm your favourite," Jax asks Emily over lunch, not because he genuinely believes it, but because it riles up Kano, and to a lesser extent, the competitive Liu Kang.

"Jax is one bad day away from pledging his allegiance to Skynet, he can't be your favourite -" Kano grumbles.

"Dad's my favourite," Emily reminds them sternly, and Cole has to hide his proud little smile, before she adds, "and mom's my favourite too, the rest of you, well of course you're all badass as hell -"

"Is it Liu? 'Cos he's pretty and you're, yanno, a teenage girl," Kano scowls at the warrior who'd been attempting to just quietly enjoy his basket of fries. Both Cole and Alison are wearing similarly murderous expressions, and Kano raised his hands in mock surrender, dropping his gaze.

"Actually," Emily said pointedly, despite the embarrassed flush on her cheeks, though she was mirroring her parents intensity, "my favourite is Raiden because he's literally a God that shoots lightning out of his hands, and you're now my least favourite because you're a rat bastard."

"I taught her that," Kung Lao was grinning from ear to ear, and when he and Emily look to each other, they share a definitive nod.

"How come he's allowed to teach her words like bastard?!" Kano demanded to know.

"Because you're a bastard," Sonya interjects.

Kano is thankfully quiet for the remainder of lunch, sulking at his end of the table as chatter returns to normal, returns to talk of how everyone else had been enjoying the day.

----

At the end of the day, Kano shoves a large, stuffed kangaroo at Emily that he'd won at the booth where you had to knock over bottles.

"Didn't even use me eye or anything; lost an hour of my life and fifty fuckin' dollars," he was grumbling, while Emily was examining the prize.

"You won this?" She seemed endeared by it, endeared by the thought that he'd put the time into winning it for her.

"'course I won it, can I stop being your least favourite now?" He asked, and Emily tucked the kangaroo beneath her arm, giving him an appraising look.

"You can't buy my loyalty -"

"Wouldn't want it if it could be bought, I know that shit from experience," Kano interjected, crossing his arms defensively, ignoring where Cole was glowering at him every time he swore.

"But you put time in, and effort, so you're back to third with everyone else."

"As long as none of those bastards is beating me, I'm okay with that."

As they headed to the exit, to where Raiden had created a lightning portal for them all to go home through, Emily reached out and punched Kano lightly in the shoulder.

"Thanks, Kano, it's pretty sweet that you care so much."

"Don't tell the others," he grumbled back.

"We've been with you all day," Jax calls out, "we already know."

#mortal kombat #liu kang #mortal kombat 2021 #kano #kung lao #cole young #raiden #jax briggs #emily young #alison young #sonya blade #mortal kombat fluff #mortal kombat fanfiction #lkmb

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argumentl · 4 years

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The Freedom of Expression Ep 21 - Gone with the Wind's relation to BLM.

K: Ok, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, starting this episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san. Welcome. Well, um..you know, Dir en grey...we've cancelled our Pia Arena concerts.

J: Ahh, thats right.

K: Its a bit...

T: Its a shame.

K: Well..it is a shame..it was kind of a build up of different things. We did search for ways which we could make it happen. We went to the venue in person, and tried to come up with ideas about how it could work, incuding our staff in the discussion, but...in the end it was quite difficult.

J: Ahh, really?

K: I had thought if we started to be a bit active things might begin to change. I really wanted to get moving, but...well..there would be people who wouldn't be able to go...

J: Well, yes.

K: So when we thought about whether we should do it...hmm..yeh.

J: Well, we want to let everyone know that you went as far as going to the venue to try to figure out what to do, and it does not mean that the band will disappear..

K: Yes

J: And in this sense, its a matter of waiting for the right time.

K: Yeah.

J: Right?

K: When will that be though, right?

J: Ah, well, the number of infections in Tokyo is in a state of increase at the moment, in particular, the night time entertainment sector is being blamed, so it seems as if live houses, or so called places of entertainment may be facing tough times for a little while yet.

K: Well, the numbers...if you decreased the number of customers..there are some places starting to operate again in that way, right?

J: There are, yes.

K: But packed standing areas are probably still a bit far off.

J: Yeah. When I think of a Dir en grey live show...I think of Shinkiba etc, I mean, thats what comes up in my mind. One way to see that type of place is like the three C's woven together (Cramped and poorly ventilated, crowded with people, close contact setting).

K: Yeh.

J: So it is really painful not being able to do that. But while it may take a while until we can, in the meantime we can find different ways or hybrid ways of doing it.

K: Yeah, we have to keep looking in a foward direction. Well...but on the days that we ought to have been performing, the 24th and 25th of this month, we are planning to stream the intended setlist live on Youtube, so if people can, I'd love them to watch that.

Kami: Um....um...

J: Ah, Kami is here.

Kami: Have you considered playing live wearing face guards or something?

K, J: Face guards?

K: No, we didn't consider that, hahaha

J, T, K: Hahaha

J: This wouldn't fit with Dir en grey.

K: No, we actually talked about it, jokingly. Like how about it?

*laughing*

J: No, if you actually did, it would be like you were making fun of it or something like that. Hahaha.

Kami: Have you thought about ventilating the venue during the show or something?

K: Hmm, yeh, we'd have to make an interval in the middle and doing something like that.

T: I see

J: Well, its difficult isn't it? You'd have to deal with a lot of things. But just like you want to do it, people want to see it too, we are all the same.

Kami: Watching a Dir en grey show with interval breaks would be quite hard, right?

K: Hm, yeah it would probably break the tension.

T: Yeah.

K: Kinda.

Kami: What do you think about doing that?

K: Doing that...well..

Kami: Raising the tension, they saying Ok, ventilation time!

K: We'd have to make it kinda like smoothly seperated waves.

J: Like leading into something when there is a break?

K: Leading into something. For example, like something sanwiched between the different sections, like showing a piece of film or something.

J: Ahh, its difficult! The people making the rules, have probably never been to live cocerts, because they don't imagine this type of thing at all. We'll have to think about all these small details at the time of performing from now on.

K: Ok, well, today...Joe san, can you please go ahead.

J: Ok, I'd like to go ahead with today's news. This is the news of how Gone with the Wind relates to the Black Lives Matter movement.

With the ongoing anti-racism Black Lives Matter movement, the expanding movement fighting for the lives of black people to be valued, the American streaming service HBO Max who halted the broadcasting of the Hollywood movie Gone with the Wind, have decided to start streaming the movie again, this time with a disclaimer attached....I'm sure you all know it...a movie which is set during the era of the American civil war, in which the system of slavery existed. This was announced by the American entertainment site TMZ. The same service had stopped streaming the movie earlier this month, after Oscar winning screen writer, John Ridley had pointed out that it includes affirmative portrayals of the system of slavery. Ridley won an Oscar for his work on the movie 12 Years A Slave, which depicts the experiences of slaves who were brought to America during the 19th century. According to TMZ, Jaqueline Stewart, a professor know for her research into the history of black people in cinema, has prepared a video containg some historical background to accompany the movie, in which she asks why we need to appreciate this 1939 movie in its original form, and says how it is important to discuss our interpretations of it. Furthermore, a video of a panel discussion about this movie which took place in April last year will also be shown at the same time. Gone with the Wind is a movie based on the story by Margret Mitchell, featuring top star of the time, Clark Gable, and English actress, Vivian Leigh.

Soo, Gone with the Wind...the news that streaming was stopped once, but has been restarted with a disclaimer attached. What do you think about this, Kaoru?

K: This type of stuff has been said for a long time, right?

J: Yes.

K: And there are a lot of movies like this aren't there?

J: There are. When looking back now, some parts seem problematic. Well, even so, its a difficult issue, but I don't really think there was any need to halt streaming it in the first place. When watching a movie with such a background as this, people will have various feelings about it, so I don't really...but of course including these extras..the American Black Lives Matter movement has grown huge in a way no one imagined, so in order to prevent adding fuel to the fire, these extra videos are being screened too. But, in the first place, I think its important for people to watch works like this, and think about it for themselves. If you are always telling people how it should be, the nuance or message contained in these movies might be lost. Its quite difficult.

T: Well, if it is lost, we'll end up forgetting how that generation used to see the world.

J: Yeah

K: But we won't lose it, right? Just from this..???1* So, well..it was a problem which couldn't be stopped at that time, it was a growing problem. You can sense that meaning, but its like, how you put it across.

J: Yeh, thats right. Well, this isn't about this movie, but for example, as for books, the publication of Hitler's Mein Kampf was halted for 70 years after the war in Germany. There was the idea that it would be bad to let people read Hilter's autobiography, after what he did. But a few years ago it started to be permitted to be published again, based on the idea that banning it also isn't a good idea. And people do actually want to read it, it is selling. So what do you do? Its a very difficult issue. If the works are by people who have done very bad things, like, a if they are written by a very bad person, should we ban it....Like some of Dir en grey's videos are also quite...when you majored, weren't some of them withdrawn or denied release?

K: With that ????2*

J: Ahh, I see. Some bits were ok, and some weren't? Well, with corona changing the world now, this problem will...

K: Well, this type of thing has an influence on a lot of stuff.

J: It does, yes.

K: Like Japanese anime.

T: Also, people are questioning this idea of 'whitening' beauty products.

J, K: Ahh, yeah.

T: That type of thing has come out recently. But even if you say 'whitening' in the context of beauty, what does it mean? Does it mean, white people are beautiful, or does it mean your skin is ???*3 That has become a talking point.

K: Now that you mention it, you are not allowed to tell someone they're short are you?

J: Right.

K: The same for if they are tall, right.

J: Yeah, if you worry too much, you'll end up trying to censor words. Especially with younger people, like sometimes you have to express things in abbreviated forms, and if they jump on this and say, 'you can't say that!', then the amount of expressions we have will shrink. Well, it is difficult.

K: Well, I mean there are lots of ???*4 with that type of person.

J: Well, its difficult to know where to draw the line with this type of thing. But with regards to Black Lives Matter, it doesn't appear to have a lot to do with this country, but Black Lives Matter has been closed in on the event where a policeman kneeled on the neck of a black man and killed him. However, if you look at the broader scene, one of the policemen standing by and watching is thought to be a man of Asian descent. And the store that reported the black man who died was run by middle eastern descended people, so its certainly not an issue unrelated to Asia. Its often said that its an issue of only whites against blacks, but actually there are clearly people of Asian descent involved in this situation. On a global scale, there are a lot of issues which you cant simply separate into white against black. So i think we should get our imaginations working a bit more, and think about all the parties involved. It might be a bit hard to imagine living in this country, but we need to realise these are not just other peoples' affairs.

T: Its really imoprtant to try to imagine yourself in someone else's situation, isn't it?

J: I think it is really important. ...Kami?

Kami: Yes yes yes. Were you talking about Gone with the Wind?

J: Ah, you want to return to the topic of Gone with the Wind?

Kami: No, I just thought this was about Gone with the Wind. I have no interest in the movie Gone with the Wind, just the title puts me off. I wasn't really listening this time.

K: He hates this type of movie, right?

J: Yes, he hates it, haha. You don't like this type of thing much?

K: What type of movies do you like?

Kami: Anything, even banned movies.

T: Kami sometimes...

J: He's like Chabudai gaeshi!

T: He appears at times like this.

K: Well, Kami probably likes action movies or that type of thing.

J: Oh you like that type of thing? You don't care if streaming of Gone with the Wind is stopped?

Kami: Yeh, if a big fuss is made when its stopped, then people will wonder what its all about and try to watch it won't they?

T: Ahh, I see.

J: Ah, on the other hand, yeh.

Kami: I won't watch it though.

K: He's really pressing that point. He won't let us forget.

J: Ahh, so thats that. It doesn't meet Kami's expectations.

K: Okay, well, lets end here. Please subscribe. Thank you very much.

J, T: Thank you.

*1, 2, 3, 4 Couldn't figure out these bits.

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #tfoe #kaoru #薫

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 3 years

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Episode 46 Review: 2 Theories About Jean Paul, Erica, and the Locket

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 | 3 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

In this great house on Maljardin, evil lives, even amongst the dead, and the poison this evil spreads threatens Erica Desmond, who lies frozen in this cryocapsule until the day a scientific miracle returns her to the living and back into the arms of her husband Jean Paul Desmond, who has defied powers real and imagined to assure his wife’s return from beyond the veiled curtain of death. Strange happenings are forcing a decision that could doom Erica Desmond...forever.

Hello and welcome back to my Garden of Evil, where today we will examine Jean Paul’s reaction to Dr. Alison Carr’s new discovery about her sister’s bloodied locket and two possible explanations of what it may say about Erica’s death and Jean Paul’s state of mind. I could do an entire recap of this episode if I wanted to, but I'd rather narrow the focus of this entry to the theories that have been floating around my head for a while (one since before I started this blog, in fact).

A brief summary of the important stuff that happens in this episode: Alison learns that the blood on the locket is human blood, type AB-, which leads her to conclude that it must be Erica’s, because both she and Erica have that rare blood type[1]. She also tests the poison found in the glass of wine that Holly drank from two episodes ago and finds that it’s not the missing cyanide, but an unknown poison of vegetable origin. Elizabeth defends herself to Matt, telling him that she has no motive to kill Holly, not even her inheritance--and, surprisingly, he believes her. And then Raxl and Quito steal the rabbit from Jean Paul’s room and stumble upon that wonderfully sinister skull, which will co-star with Jacques in Episode 47.

Jean Paul receives irrefutable proof that the locket found around the rabbit’s neck belonged to Erica.

Outside of those plot points, this episode focuses primarily on Jean Paul’s confusion over how a bloodied locket even ended up in the cryonics capsule with his beloved Erica to begin with. When Alison shows Jean Paul the blood sample under the microscope, he's skeptical at first and tries to convince her that she either bled on it or someone else somehow put her blood there to confuse him. I would say it boggles my mind how someone with an IQ of 187 like Jean Paul can conceive such a ridiculous theory, but, honestly, it doesn’t. The popularity of conspiracy theories and other misinformation in our time has convinced me that human beings of any intelligence level can trick themselves into believing anything, no matter how patently absurd, if they want to believe it enough.

Subtle Dark Shadows reference?

I can’t tell how much of the next part where Jean Paul continues speculating about the locket is actually in the script and how much is just a particularly bad line flub. Listening to his dialogue, it sounds like a combination of both, but it’s hard to tell given that the character is supposed to be very confused already. Here’s an exact transcription of what he says:

Jean Paul: "Well, maybe I-I-I put the necklace on her neck without realizing it. I perhaps didn't put it on her when I put it in the capsule. It could have happened that way very easily. You see, I had thought I had. You didn't see me do it, did you, Raxl?" Raxl: "No." Jean Paul: "Quito, did you?" Quito: *shakes head* Jean Paul: "Well, there you are. You see? She could have cut her finger a while before she died, and so the blood got on the locket, and maybe I put the locket in the, uh, dresser drawer, and it was left there, and in my grief I didn't know what I was doing and I gave her another piece of jewelry which I put around her neck. Don't you think that probably is what has happened?"

Vangie isn’t convinced of any of these theories, and neither is Raxl. The latter believes that the locket appeared because of evil, “slimy like a snake, ugly like a black rabbit.” (WTF? The rabbit is adorable!) Jean Paul accuses Vangie of suspecting him, but she insists she doesn’t. Of course, he doesn’t believe her and he takes out his anger by breaking Alison’s microscope in half, throwing it to the ground, and accusing Erica of mocking him.

In the next scene, he ruminates in his room over the likelihood that he killed Erica, intentionally or otherwise:

Could I have killed my Erica? Could I have slain my love? That's impossible! Oh, you would like it, Jacques Eloi des Mondes, my bloody murdering ancestor. If it was so, how you would rejoice! But then, if I didn't put the locket in the cryocapsule with Erica as I thought, what other things that I believe as facts--things which are part of my life and experience--may be no more than creeping, malicious, lying fancies? Perhaps I didn't love my Erica at all. Perhaps I hated her!

Jean Paul pondering whether he truly loved Erica.

Getting dramatic!

Later, while lying on his bed in shirtsleeves, he realizes that he genuinely loved her, but that his memory is still faulty:

Jean Paul: "I loved her. I remember how I loved her. There was no world but the world outside, and then there was another world and that was us. Oh, how I loved her, so good, so beautiful, but what happened at the end? I can't…was the necklace with Erica when she was sealed in the capsule? I can't remember."

But later on when he visits the Great Hall (inadvertently giving Raxl and Quito the opportunity to retrieve the Rabbit of Evil), Jacques torments him by implying that Jean Paul, like him, is a murderer. “Think there’s a chance you may have murdered your sweet Erica?” he asks. “That blood was very interesting, wasn’t it?”

Jacques hinting again that they’re the same man, or just that the apple doesn’t fall far from the proverbial tree? Or perhaps this is like that one line from Game of Thrones: “You can’t kill me, I’m a part of you now.”

Then we get this exchange which acts as a segue into the next scene:

Jacques: "So maybe you killed your little love before you put her in that tin coffin, hm? Maybe there is no pristine, pure body to revive. That's what's been on your mind all day, isn't it?" Jean Paul: "Even if it has been, I certainly wouldn't tell you." Jacques: "You can have no secrets from me, anyhow. You know, if you ever are thinking of murdering again…" Jean Paul: "I did not kill her!" Jacques: "All right!" *laughs* "But whether you did or not, you might want to kill someone else one of these days." Jean Paul: "Good night." Jacques: "All right, run away, but you might find an example of my skill nearer than you know and sooner than you think."

After he storms out of the Great Hall, Raxl and Quito return, the latter carrying the rabbit. Before they can sacrifice the rabbit in an effort to rid the house of its evil, it jumps from Quito’s arms. While trying to catch it, he bumps his head into a painting of mysterious ancestor Étienne des Mondes and knocks it off the wall, revealing a hidden cupboard with a skull swinging from a rope through its jaws.

We’ll discuss this skull in the review for next episode, where it becomes the focus. For the rest of this review, however, let us turn our attention to two possible interpretations of the Jean Paul and Jacques scenes in this episode. My theories are as follows:

Theory #1: Jean Paul killed Erica and is living in denial

Jean Paul’s reaction to learning that his deceased wife’s blood is on the locket and especially Jacques’ comments about it seem to imply that Dan Forrest’s theory about murder may not be a red herring after all as Ian Martin would have had us believe. Remember that, although Jacques is evil and Martin’s episodes portrayed him as the Father of Lies, he and Jean Paul may or may not be the same man. That could mean anything from Jean Paul having a split personality to Jacques having transported himself forward in time to live as Jean Paul Desmond before the events of Episode 1, but I’ll save those ideas for another essay. The point is that Jacques seems to know Jean Paul as well as he knows himself, and as such knows things about him that the other characters don’t.

It’s possible even that Jacques has observed and interacted with Jean Paul since long before Jean Paul freed him by removing the silver pin from the conjure doll’s temple. Think back to Jacques’ introductory scene in the pilot, where he responds to Jean Paul’s proclamation of “on this island, from this moment forward, I am God” with “bravo.” He could speak through the portrait and even give characters visions before Jean Paul freed him! Also think of all the things he’s referenced that a man from the 17th century wouldn’t be aware of: merry-go-rounds, bus time tables, the figurative expression “jack up by the bootstraps,” and whatnot. Assuming Jacques is a spirit like he claims, he’s been observing and learning things on Maljardin for a very long time! Sure, he looked confused about that fountain pen in Episode 4, but perhaps that was only because he hadn’t had a chance to practice using one before Jean Paul set him free. If Jean Paul killed Erica, Jacques would know about it and may even have encouraged it by communicating with him through the portrait. There’s no indication that the scene in the pilot is the first time he made contact with his descendant. It could be the second time, the fifth, the tenth, the thousandth, or more.

Also note that the exact cause of Erica’s death is never made clear. Jean Paul claims in Episode 5 that she died of eclampsia, but the Lost Episode summary for Episode 47 from the CBC program log indicates that Dr. Menkin’s missing notes would have eventually revealed her to have “died attempting to gain eternal youth.” The latter could have meant anything from plastic surgery complications to swallowing gold à la Diane de Poitiers. It’s not even clear if the attempt at eternal youth is truly the cause of her death, just what she was doing when she died. This leaves the possibility of homicide open.

But did Jean Paul (or Dr. Menkin) intentionally kill her, or could it have been an unpremeditated, spur-of-the-moment decision? I believe the latter is more likely. Jean Paul seems genuinely confused by her death, and even by whether he loved or hated her. It’s possible he already wasn’t in his right mind before her death and may even have blacked out during it (although probably not because of possession, as he had not yet freed Jacques). Perhaps the artificial intelligence hinted at by the reference to W. Grey Walter’s “Imitation of Life” factored into this: for example, the implant inside Erica’s brain may have malfunctioned, causing her to become violent and attack Jean Paul and/or Dr. Menkin.

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM (1961)

Another thing to consider: Strange Paradise shares many plot points in common with the Roger Corman/Vincent Price movie The Pit and the Pendulum. In the film, we have (1) a husband whose wife recently died under mysterious circumstances, (2) whom he comes to suspect he accidentally murdered. (3) His doctor is living at the castle with him, when (4) a sibling of his deceased wife comes to investigate her death. Among the ghostly happenings in the house, (5) a portrait of the wife is slashed. Finally, (6) the husband goes mad and (7) is possessed by an evil lookalike ancestor, in this case his father. While I don’t think that we can accurately predict planned revelations in Strange Paradise using the events of a film written by someone unaffiliated with the show’s production, it is interesting to note that Vincent Price’s character accidentally buried his wife alive. This connects to the events of Episode 44, where Erica’s spirit possesses Holly and tells them to “let [her] out,” although in Erica’s case it’s more likely that she’s just been resurrected from death instead of being buried alive.

END SPOILERS

Theory #2: Jean Paul is imagining things

Another possibility is that he didn't kill Erica and is using the new (apparent) evidence to construct a false memory of killing her. Although most of us like to think of memory as infallible, numerous studies have proven that it's anything but. This can occur on a collective level, such as the famous Mandela effect where, prior to Nelson Mandela's actual death in 2013, many people misremembered him as having died in the 1980s. More often, however, individual people remember false versions of events from their own lives.

In the late 20th century, numerous psychological studies identified the way that even changing small details of a story--changing a stop sign to a yield sign, for example, or adding the detail of broken glass to the story of an accident--could alter a subject's memory of it, creating a "misinformation effect." During one such study, researchers used a fake advertisement showing Bugs Bunny in front of the Sleeping Beauty Castle at Disneyland to trick their subjects into believing that they could meet Bugs at the park (despite Bugs being a Warner Brothers character and Warner Brothers being affiliated instead with Six Flags). For 16 percent of the subjects, it worked, and they described further false memories of meeting Bugs at Disney, adding details like that they touched the ear of his costume[2].

Speaking of false memories of amusement parks, I swore for years that I remembered visiting a dinosaur theme park in the northern Ohio woods back in 1998 or 1999, when I was five or six. I never questioned whether the memory was real until one day when my family drove past a drive-through dinosaur exhibit and my dad said to my mom, "They didn't have anything like that when Michelle was a kid." Skeptical of his claim, I did some Googling and discovered that there was a dinosaur-themed park in the woods near Sandusky called the Prehistoric Forest that looked much like what I thought I remembered[3]. When I sent my parents the link to the article about the Prehistoric Forest, both of them denied ever taking me there or even having heard of the place. Nevertheless, I swear I've been there or somewhere very similar. I think the most likely explanation is that I dreamt about it, but that the memory of the dream was so vivid that I mistook it as one from my waking life.

Much as a researcher can convince their subjects to believe that Bugs Bunny appeared at Disney or I convinced myself that I had visited a place like the Prehistoric Forest, Jean Paul is capable of brainwashing himself into thinking that he murdered Erica. This isn't even the only time he speculates without clear evidence that he’s guilty of murder. We'll see something similar in Episode 137 regarding the murder of a different character, whom Jean Paul will successfully convince himself he killed despite hazy evidence at best.

Note that these two theories are not one hundred percent mutually exclusive. It’s entirely possible that Jean Paul killed Erica, but misremembered specific details about her death or how he felt about her. Also note that this show contains quite a few retcons, one of which we saw last episode. Just as the trajectory of this show has changed significantly from Ian Martin’s original plot, the truth about Erica Desmond’s fate is currently in flux within the show’s universe.

The contents of the secret compartment that Raxl and Quito discovered.

Coming up next: A delightfully chilling episode where Jacques uses the skull that Raxl and Quito found to further terrorize his guests.

{<-- Previous: Episode 45 || Next: Episode 47 -->}

Notes

[1] While rabbits can have type AB blood (or type ZY blood, using the system from this 1954 study) and they cannot tolerate injections of Rh-positive blood, they have different antibodies in their blood from those of humans.

[2] Elizabeth F. Loftus, "Memories of Things Unseen," in Current Directions in Psychological Science 13:4 (2004), pp. 145-146. There are other examples from other studies, including one involving false memories of witnessing a demonic possession, but the Bugs one is my personal favorite. Also, this period of Strange Paradise puts me in a rabbity mood.

[3] Coincidentally, the Prehistoric Forest's entrance appeared in the 1995 film Tommy Boy, which also featured Colin Fox and Pat Moffat (Irene Hatter) in supporting roles. There was also an animatronic dinosaur attraction at Sea World Ohio called Carnivore Park that operated in the late 1990s. Despite having visited that Sea World many times as a kid, I couldn’t have gone to that exhibit because we couldn’t afford to go there in 1998 or 1999.

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staygold-ponyboycurtis · 4 years

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We Had Church!

But that day... well, Soda can’t sit still long enough to enjoy a movie, much less a sermon. It wasn’t long before he and Steve and Two-Bit were throwing paper wads at each other and clowning around, and finally Steve dropped a hymn book with a bang - accidentally, of course. Everyone in the place turned around to look at us, and Johnny and I nearly crawled under the pews. And Two-Bit waved at them. I hadn’t been to church since.

A one-shot about that one time the gang went to church... Idea credit goes to @ponyboyskywalker :)

“I don’t think the big guy upstairs is gonna mind if your shirt’s a little wrinkled, Pone,” Sodapop says, brushing off my shoulder.

I roll my eyes. “That’s not the point. I’m trying to look decent.”

“You’re a Curtis,” Two-Bit hollers from the living room. “Don’t y’all think you’re movie stars or somethin’?”

“Hey, don’t go givin’ the kid a complex, now,” I hear Steve say to him. “I don’t think the world could handle another self-obsessed Curtis.”

I hear the rumbling of Darry’s voice from somewhere in the house, undoubtedly berating Steve. Soda chuckles at the argument, buttoning his shirt in the mirror.

“I can’t believe you’re draggin’ me along with you,” he says. “Are ‘ya sure I won’t burst into flames when I walk through the door?”

I scoff. Soda doesn’t give himself enough credit. Just last week, he took the entire day off of work to sit with me while I was home sick with a stomach bug. Made me soup and ran to the store to get me ginger ale, too. In my eyes, he was bordering sainthood.

“I want you to go with me,” I say. “I think you’ll like going to church.”

I’ve snuck off to our local church’s service a few times here and there without the gang knowing. After mom and dad died, I realized that it was a comfort to have something worth believing in. A higher power, of sorts. It helped me keep the hope that they weren’t gone forever. At first, I felt out of place. But after a while, I felt comfortable attending church. Welcomed, even.

I’d always sit in the back pew and mumble the hymns under my breath. I found myself relating to a lot of things the priest would say. Like the lessons about judgment and keeping promises. I wasn’t embarrassed or anything, I just didn’t know what the gang would think if they knew what I was up to. I didn’t want them to feel bad for me. I didn’t think they’d understand.

I had asked Sodapop if he’d go with me again and again until he finally said yes. I thought it was something we could do together. At first, he was confused. Once he realized that I wasn’t joking, he took it really seriously. Steve and Sodapop were each other’s shadows (much to my chagrin), so I should’ve known it was an unspoken invitation for him, too. Two-Bit decided to tag along because he didn’t have anything better to do, I reckon.

“Is there singing?” Two-Bit had asked, his eyebrow raised incredulously. “I’ve heard there’s singing.”

“A little,” I said. “But you don’t have to sing along.”

“Good,” he had said with a chuckle. “Because my singing is a sin.”

I study myself in the mirror. I’m wearing Darry’s old dress shirt. The one he wore to his high school graduation. Except on him, it looked a lot better. The sleeves are a bit too long on me, and the collar is a little worn out. Despite the wrinkles, I don’t look too bad. I’d bet I’d even pass for a Soc if it weren’t for my long hair. I wonder what I’d look like if I cut it a bit…

“Pony,” I hear Steve say in a sarcastically exasperated tone. The one he always uses when he talks to me. He looks at me as if he’s repeated my name a few times. And he probably has. But I have a way of tuning people out when I’m stuck inside my own head.

“Johnny just walked in,” he says. “Let’s go.”

When we arrive at the old church, I usher everyone into the furthest pew from the front. Hoping we can sneak in undetected, I shuffle in quickly. A few older women turn around and stare at us a little too long, but I try not to notice. We surely look out of place, but isn’t there something to be said for not having any judgment?

I guess not, I think to myself as I meet their gaze.

“I’ve never been to church before,” Johnny says to me in a practically inaudible voice. “It’s nice in here.”

I nudge his shoulder, pointing directly ahead. “Look at the stained glass,” I say. It’s my favorite part of coming here. When the sun shines through towards the end of the service, it practically paints the entire room in shades of red, orange, and yellow. It reminds me of a brilliant flame - like a mirage. “It’s real nice,” he says, and I smile softly.

The priest begins talking, and I look down the row. Sodapop and Steve are jabbing each other in the sides and laughing quietly, without the slightest bit of interest in his sing-songy preaching. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and I nudge Two-Bit, who isn’t much help. Instead of stopping them, he leans over and asks what’s so funny, reveling in the entertainment. I sink a bit lower in my seat and try to focus on what’s being said by the priest. Something about having humility.

After a few minutes, I’ve sunk low enough in the pew that I’m practically on the floor. I want God to strike me right then and there – disappear from the embarrassment of it all. Sodapop, Steve, and Two-Bit haven’t stopped making noise since we sat down. Only Johnny has paid attention, nodding along whenever the priest interprets the biblical text into lament’s terms.

Every time I catch Sodapop’s eye, he bursts into laughter. I know it’s because he’s practically bursting at the seams with energy. He can barely sit still. He finds any kind of lecture too boring to pay attention. He has to cause mischief. I shake my head, cursing my former self for thinking that he could sit through a church service, let alone try to understand it.

When the velvet-lined receiving basket is shoved in front of us, Two-Bit peers in and tries to grab some of the change. The old man on the other end jerks it away from us in disgust and Two-Bit hoots at his ill-received prank. Steve and Soda find it hilarious and let out laughs that echo throughout the entire building.

When the priest ushers us to shake each other’s hands, the old women in front of us raise their eyebrows and look at us disapprovingly. Looking at the group of us, I can understand why. It almost seems like an insult for us, clad in jeans and old dress shirts, to be behind women dressed in dresses and pill box hats. I even catch Johnny’s dark face blushed with embarrassment.

“Well, peace be with you, too,” Two-Bit says in mock-disbelief. He crosses his arms theatrically and sits down with a huff. I look at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” he says. “Who would pass up the opportunity to shake the hands of the finest crop of upstanding young men that Tulsa has to offer?”

He leans forward enough so that his face is right behind the women’s backs. “You know, ladies. Those two are single,” he says, jerking his thumb to me and Johnny.

I cover my face in my hands. Oh, Lord.

For the rest of the service, I’m counting down the minutes and seconds until I can bolt out of the church and never look back. Thankfully, the gang keeps their antics down to a low murmur, but everyone is obnoxiously aware of our presence. I think I even notice the priest shake his head at us.

Right before we’re dismissed, I see Two-Bit and Soda wrestling over a bible.

“Put that back,” I whisper-yell, but they don’t listen. Two-Bit is trying to stand the books up in the pew next to him to build a tower, while Sodapop is trying to knock it down with a paper plane made from the church bulletin.

All of a sudden, I hear a thud. Without needing to turn my head, I know where it came from. Two-Bit snaps back into a sitting position as if he were in military formation and Sodapop stifles a laugh. It seems the entire crowd of church goers have turned around to look at us, the brazen group of greasers in God’s house raising hell.

I expect the old women in front of us to banish us right where we sit. If looks could kill, we’d be dead in the pew, and somehow, I think that’d be better than feeling the hot rush of humiliation that has burnt up my back.

With a wry smile, Two-Bit lifts his hand, waving sarcastically. “Hi, ladies,” he says with a smirk. They gasp a bit, turning around with astonished looks on their faces.

Finally, the priest releases us to go about our day, and I’m on my feet before I can think twice. He tells us to have a great afternoon, but I’m contemplating digging a hole and hiding in it.

On the walk back to the house, the gang reminisces about our morning, oblivious to the scene we left behind.

“Did you see their faces?” Two-Bit says. “I thought someone had hiked up their skirt the way those fuddies’ mouths were hanging open.”

Soda chuckles. “I think they were all looking at you, Two-Bit.”

“Naw,” he says. “I was the most exciting thing to happen to them today.”

Sodapop slings his arm over my shoulder, not recognizing my annoyance. “Church sure was fun, Pone,” he says. “Thanks for invitin’ us.”

“Yeah, P.B.,” Two-Bit says. “Same time next week?”

My eyes widen. God help me.

one of my favorite headcanons is that Two-Bit calls Ponyboy “P.B.” :’) I just had to incorporate that here. & apologies for the delay. I was hoping to post this a few days ago but… life. however, I had so much fun writing this up. I just love thinking about the gang acting hilariously. And let me know who picks up on that lil easter egg I threw in there. I had to, y’all.

let me know what you think & if you have any ideas for future one-shots. I’m open to them all :)

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arrantsnowdrop · 4 years

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The Hardships of Love - Aragorn x Reader (angst/fluff)

Request: "...the reader is a dunedain ranger like aragorn and they're very good friends. one day they're talking and the topic of love comes up and they're both sorta upset at their luck for falling for elves. the reader reveals she is/was in love with haldir but sorta ran from that romance because it was doomed (due to the difference in races)"

Tags: @subtle-sunrise

Warnings: angst (break ups and sadness as a result), 2,335 words

A/N: The lovely @subtle-sunrise gave me several ideas about how to finish this request, I chose to go the route of the reader and Aragorn bonding/perhaps falling a little in love with each other. You can choose to read this as platonic or romantic, it's deinfitely up to your interpretation. I LOVED THIS REQUEST UGH I would also love to write more Aragorn stuff bc he's hella cool so lemme know if you are interested, otherwise enjoy :)

The Trollshaws had always been a dangerous place, filled with Stone-trolls who came down from the north looking for people to snack on. Luckily, most of them stayed within the confines of the woods, only eating those dumb enough to trespass on their territory.

However, for the past month or so, the Trolls had been venturing out of the woods, terrorizing the many villagers and halflings who lived on the East-West Road. The situation had escalated to the point where several townsfolk got together and asked the Rangers of the North to intervene.

In (Y/n)’s mind, their plea for help was indicative of the severity of the situation; under normal circumstances, most people were too afraid of the Rangers to even mention them in conversation, let alone willingly talk to them.

You’d been sent out from Rivendell with Aragorn to diffuse the situation by whatever means you saw fit. Though you did not want the confrontation to escalate to violence, you knew it was nearly impossible to bargain with a Troll.

The two of you had ended up fighting a cohort of twenty or so Trolls, killing a few and chasing the rest back into the Trollshaws. You’d returned to the town you’d chased them out of to help dispose of the corpses and offer suggestions on how to deter the Trolls in the future (“Building some fences would not hurt,” you’d said sarcastically, grinning as Aragorn stifled a laugh).

The sun was already beginning to sink beneath the horizon by the time you and Aragorn had begun your trek back to Rivendell. You’d both agreed to travel for an hour or so before setting up camp and getting some much needed sleep; you’d hopefully return to Lord Elrond’s domain sometime tomorrow afternoon.

The ride was almost completely silent, save for the sounds of your horses’ hooves hitting the dirt road and the crickets chirping in the woods around you. You were both extremely tired, and when Aragorn noticed a small patch of moss nestled between a cluster of trees, you’d gladly agreed to stop.

Aragorn was beginning to light a fire in the middle of the small grove, and you were making sure the horses’ reins were tightly secured to a fallen branch. You tossed them both some carrots from a sack you’d brought along with you, then turned back to where Aragorn was piling wood onto a steady orange flame. You grinned, relishing in the warm feeling the fire provided.

“Thank you, Aragorn,” you murmured, sitting down across from him and holding your hands up to the flames. He hummed in reply. It was early fall, and though the cooler air allowed you to fight without producing copious amounts of sweat, it was now too chilly at night for your liking. Aragorn looked up and noticed you shivering slightly.

“Would you like a blanket, (Y/n)?” he asked, gesturing to where your bags sat behind him. You shook your head and Aragorn chuckled, standing up to grab one anyways.

“Aragon, that’s not necessary,” you whined as he rummaged through your bag.

“If you catch a cold, the Elves back in Rivendell will tease you relentlessly for the rest of the week,” he replied as he walked over to you, blanket in hand. “I’m saving you from that rather unlikable fate.”

You laughed, grabbing the blanket and draping it over yourself.

“Thank you for sparing me from certain Elven humiliation, then,” you said, noticing the corners of Aragorn’s mouth tilting upwards into a small smile.

You’d never understood why Aragorn, or Strider as he was more commonly known, had a reputation for being serious and unfriendly. You’d known him since you were a teenager; he’d been your mentor and close companion as you trained to become a Ranger. You were used to seeing him smile and laugh, though it seemed the majority of the common folk thought he was incapable of doing so.

“Would you like some bread?” Aragorn asked, carrying his own bag closer to the fire. You squinted at him in the dim lighting.

“If it’s Lembas bread, I don’t want it,” you replied bluntly. Aragorn chuckled, knowing far too well your hatred for Elven Way bread.

“Luckily, this is sourdough,” he said, grinning as your eyes lit up. “It’s probably stale at this point, but-”

“Throw me a chunk of that,” you interrupted, gesturing to the loaf of bread he had procured from his pack. He ripped off a sizable piece and threw it over the fire, laughing as you caught it in your mouth.

“Elrond would most definitely not approve of that behavior,” he remarked, ripping off a piece of bread for himself and tossing it in his mouth. You rolled your eyes and groaned.

“The other day, he felt the need to lecture me on my dining etiquette,” you said, grimacing at the memory. “Apparently, not knowing the difference between the different sized forks is absolutely disgraceful.”

“Ah yes, the classic salad versus dining fork conversation,” Aragorn grinned. “I myself have received that same lecture on several occasions.” You laughed.

“I’ve always find it funny how when I visit Lothlórien, the Elves only ask about my duties as a Ranger, but in Rivendell, they only comment on my lack of proper manners,” you noted, watching Aragorn simultaneously laugh and choke on his mouthful of bread. He glared at you as you chuckled at him.

"You must never repeat this,” he said seriously, “but the Elves of Rivendell have a reputation for being the most judgemental and fussy in Middle Earth.”

You laughed loudly, nodding in agreement as you popped the last bit of bread in your mouth. It was not very filling, but over the years you’d learned that some food was always much better than none at all.

“Speaking of Lothlórien, how are the Elves there doing?” Aragorn asked, referencing your visit there a few weeks ago. You’d just returned from the other side of the Misty Mountains when Elrond had sent you and Aragorn out to deal with the Troll problem.

“They’re doing well, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn seem to be in good spirits,” you said, a little too softly for Aragorn’s liking. His brows furrowed in concern.

“How about Haldir?” he asked, noticing you shift uncomfortably.

For the last decade or so, you and Haldir had been in an unofficial relationship. The first time you accompanied Elrond to Lothlórien, you’d managed to capture the blonde Elf’s attention. Since then, you spent most of your frequent trips there with him, writing letters to each other between visits.

You had always thought you were unworthy of his affections. He was so wise and thoughtful, his many centuries of life having influenced his placid demeanor. He was also kind, happy to spend much of his time ensuring the safety of his fellow Elves. Meanwhile, you were a hot-tempered Ranger who was known in the West for being a harbinger of danger.

“Haldir is, uh, well he’s good,” you replied, purposefully avoiding Aragorn’s gaze.

What you weren’t telling him was that you’d ended your relationship with Haldir during your last visit. Of course you still cared for him, very deeply as a matter of fact, but that was the exact reason you had decided to take a step back.

“(Y/n)?” Aragorn asked softly. You nodded, still not looking up from the fire flickering in front of you.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

You bit your lip and shook your head, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to fall down your face.

Silence from Aragorn. You focused on the crackling of the fire, the way the soft orange light danced across the ground. It was a little mesmerizing, and honestly, you were more than happy to be entranced by the lambent flames; it was a welcome distraction from the sadness that had begun to permeate your consciousness.

You snapped out of your daze as soon as you heard Aragorn shuffling from across the fire. You finally looked up, watching as he stood and walked around the fire, sitting down next to you.

“I do not know what troubles your mind,” he murmured, gaze locked on the fire in front of him, “but I know the importance of companionship in sadness, and I’ll gladly offer you comfort if you want it.”

He turned his head, eyes filled with compassion and concern. You felt the tears you’d been trying so hard to contain begin to fall down your face, and you let out a very shaky sob.

Aragorn leaned forward immediately, wrapping you in a strong embrace. You didn’t know how long you spent weeping into his shoulder, him whispering soothing words in your ear as he rubbed your back.

After what seemed like hours, your sobs reduced to small sniffles. You pulled back, exhaling loudly and burying your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you said meekly.

“Don’t be,” Aragorn replied, hands moving from your shoulders to your forearms.

“I told him we couldn't be together anymore,” you whispered, focusing on his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin.

“Ah, then it’s my fault you’re crying,” Aragorn said regretfully. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, (Y/n), I truly am.”

“No, no it’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “It’s better this way anyways. I’d rather cry with someone I trust than break down in front of the rest of the Rangers or the Elves.”

“I don’t know if our Elven acquaintances know how to manage the more intense human emotions,” Aragorn chuckled. You grinned, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks with the palms of your hands.

“I just, I couldn't do it anymore,” you said, struggling to find the right words. “I felt guilty every time we were together.”

“Why?” Aragorn asked genuinely.

“Because he’s an Elf,” you groaned, flopping backwards dramatically. Aragorn grinned as you stretched out on the mossy ground.

“Like, he’s basically immortal, but everyone knows Elves can die if they experience really deep loss or sadness,” you said, “and then Haldir told me he loved me, and I just couldn’t help but feel ashamed.”

You sat up and looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I don’t want to be the reason he dies,” you said softly. “I mean, I’m definitely mortal. Hopefully I’ll live a long life and die when I’m old, but with this gig, who knows.” You gestured to your sword, lying behind you on the ground.

“And then he’s just so, so important in Lothlórien, especially now, with Sauron gaining power and all that,” you said softly. “Staying together could result in me unwillingly killing one of their strongest defenders. I couldn’t do that to him, to them.”

“I understand,” Aragorn said softly. “I understand you completely.”

You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. He sighed, looking at the fire next to him.

“I ended things with Arwen for the same reason,” he clarified, grabbing a stray twig and throwing it haphazardly at the flames. You gasped, inching closer to him and setting your hand on his thigh.

“Aragorn, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, easily detecting the pain in his eyes.

“You don’t have to be, I’m fine,” he said, turning to you and giving you a very unconvincing smile. “But I do understand where you’re coming from, it’s hard to let an Elf love you knowing that you could easily cause their demise.”

You nodded, leaning over to rest your head in his lap.

“I’m still sorry, I know how much you care for her,” you murmured. Aragorn rested his hand on your head, mindlessly running his fingers through your knotted hair.

“I think we’ll both recover,” he replied. “Besides, it’s not like she was the only being I loved. There are plenty of people in my life I care for.”

You looked up, blushing when you saw he was looking down at you adoringly.

“Does Elrond know you’ve stopped pursuing his daughter?” you asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Probably,” he replied. “We haven’t talked about it yet. I don’t know whether he’ll be pleased or angry at me.”

“Pleased? Why would he be pleased?”

“He was always upset with me for courting Arwen,” he sighed.

“That’s stupid,” you huffed, causing Aragorn to chuckle. “You’re a great person, Aragorn, Elrond’s standards for Arwen’s suitors are intentionally set impossibly high, that way he’ll never have to part with her.”

“Thank you,” Aragorn said with a small smile.

“No, thank you,” you said.

“Why?”

“For letting me talk about Haldir, I guess,” you clarified. “There aren’t many people who understand what it’s like courting an Elf, and how unworthy they make you feel.”

“Hey,” Aragorn said softly, tilting your head in his lap so you met his gaze . “You are not unworthy of Haldir’s affections, or anyone’s affections for that matter. You’re one of the kindest and bravest people I know, do not be so hard on yourself.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, face flushing at his compliment. “You are also worthy of Arwen’s love, though I know why you feel as if you aren't.”

Aragon nodded thoughtfully, eyes darting to his bag lying on the ground.

“We should get ready to sleep,” he said. You nodded and yawned, suddenly remembering how exhausted you were.

You sat up, wrapping your blanket tighter around yourself as Aragorn grabbed his own worn quilt.

“Is there anything in your bag that you want?” he asked, chuckling as you shook your head and stretched out on the ground.

You smiled as you felt him lie down next to you, sleeping side by side as you’d done so many times before. You turned over so you were facing him and buried your face in the soft fabric of his tunic.

“Good night, Aragorn,” you mumbled, surrendering to your own drowsiness.

You had dozed off before you could feel Aragorn press his lips to your forehead and whisper a good night, draping his arm over your body before falling asleep himself.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn x oc #aragorn fanfiction #aragorn #lord of the rings #fluff #angst #oneshot #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction

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doomstypewriter · 4 years

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I finally brought myself to writing something for the Untamed/Mdzs fandom, would you look at that!

This fic consists of one chapter and an epilogue (that I shall write next week).

AO3

Summary: A collection of moments over the years in which Lan Wangji waits and struggles to survive his grief. -- How could someone so vocal in life lay so silent in death? Missing. Wei Ying’s spirit was missing from the land; his body too, not even there to bury, to memorialise. He would never dress in anything but white for the remainder of his life. Wei Ying was missing and Lan Zhan missed him.

Words: 2439

TW: This is heavy on angst. Really heavy, and at some points it can kinda hint at depression (not fully, but I have left a window for it to be able to be interpreted as such). It also deals with a lot of grief. (If there are any other things that I need to add to this list, please, do tell me).

“It must be one of the worst ways of suffering, to lose someone you hold so dearly, don’t you agree, Hanguang-Jun?”

Jin Guangyao’s comment caught him by surprise. Today was not a day in which he felt with the disposition to gift his attention liberally, less after having spent it on listening to the rest of the sect’s leaders.

They had gathered in a council to discuss politics and, of course, the repercussions of demonic cultivation two years after its founder had passed away. Exactly two years later.

Nobody had let go unnoticed the entrance of Jiang Wanyin. It did not seem out of the ordinary, given that he found himself leading one of the most powerful sects, however, that was not the reason why he stood out. Even if every eye had set on him, no one had the guts to stare at his face on the second anniversary of his shijie’s death.

Maybe that is why refocusing his attention from a place of bitter introspection to a conversation he did not wish to have served him of very little comfort. Anyhow, he could not afford to offend Lianfang-Zun.

Before he even got the chance to intervene, his interlocutor spoke again:

“My apologies”, he retracted with the usual mastery, “perhaps today is not the best time to talk of such things, having so many other important matters to discuss”.

A glance at the expression of veiled pity and shame that his brother and Jin Guangyao, respectively, shared let him know what they had said wordlessly. A warning, or rather a petition. “Please treat the grief of my brother with kindness”.

Lan Wangji nodded, not knowing any better way to reply.

‘Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you never say much, do you? Don’t worry, I’ll speak for both of us’ that’s what Wei Ying would have said, had he been there, with his lively smile and his skills balancing Lan Wangi’s own.

There was no response.

Yet another evening without an answer.

He did not believe that his fingertips could hurt after years being used to playing for hours, to testify for that were the callouses he’d earned with the extensive practice that had made him such a good instrumentalist and fighter. Yet, the pain still flowed from the strings to his fingers, howling through chords without response.

How could someone so vocal in life lay so silent in death?

Missing.

Wei Ying’s spirit was missing from the land; his body too, not even there to bury, to memorialise. He would never dress in anything but white for the remainder of his life.

Wei Ying was missing and Lan Zhan missed him.

His uncle gave him an eyebrow raise in all but the expression when he chose A-Yuan’s courtesy name. Lan Wangji could not help but to get a sense of estrangement by looking at his shifu, when had it become like this? By asking that, he did not mean the open air of disapproval in their conversations, that started the moment Lan Wangji fell in love with Wei Ying and consolidated itself when he attacked the elders, he knew as much. No.

When had his uncle begun to see Wangji as a looking glass, that offered passage to a vision of his own worst nightmares and greatest failures?

Even worse, how could he have become the living ghost of his father?

Shizui meant to yearn. His uncle could tell who Lan Wangji was yearning for, but could he see his own yearning, the agony present in his eyes every time he watched him and Xichen? Most likely. The knowledge of that truth must weigh heavily.

The arrival back to Gusu was swift. Both he and his brother traveled light, as per usual when urgent matters occurred.

Such was the case of a conflict regarding intense resentful energy within Qinghe, for which Sect Leader Nie Huaisang had appointed them. An outburst of demonic energy had subjected great commotion within a minor city and was said to need urgent attention. Nie Huaisang, not knowing how to deal with the issue himself and concerned to further disclose it to the other sects, as it would surely catch the eye of Jiang Wanyin and arise his own resentment over a certain somebody, had instead opted for writing to his brother and request his help. Upon reading the letter, Xichen asked for his assistance in this occasion, saying that their uncle could attend to the matters of the Lan Sect in their absence. Lan Wangji obliged.

The incident turned out to be, indeed, of most interest. A circle of local and external parties had reunited inside of a crypt hidden beneath an inn to perform a ritual of sorts. As a direct consequence, the establishment above, along with all of their clients, had been blown away by the never-before-seen resentful energy. He had recommended for the place to be sealed off and purified every ten days for the next twenty years to ensure the safety of those living in the city. His brother and him then focused on shedding some light on how it all came to be, but were unable to reach a satisfactory clarification, given that the main culprits had perished and Inquiry proved to be ineffective. They theorised their spiritual conscience had been shattered, too, by the resentment’s magnitude.

After almost three weeks away, they set back to Gusu, promising to further investigate using the resources within the library, but settled the matter closed for the time being. Riding their swords was most welcome as a means of travel, reducing the journey to two days, instead of the week it would take by land.

Gentians’ fragrance filled the air on his path back to the Jingshi. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself he had missed the comfort of its familiarity. Even if said familiarity meant the pang of memories and grief, returning gave him a sense of peace.

He entered his living quarters. Any and all thought left his head with what presented before him. Not what, who.

“Lan Zhan!”

Wei Wuxian sat by the desk, drinking from one of the uncovered vases of his hidden stack of Emperor’s Smile.

“Don’t look at me like that”, he pouted. “I know it’s against the rules, but you can’t possibly be so mean to someone who has just traveled for a week to see you” Wei Wuxian finished adding a smile.

“You’re back”.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. An air of doubt passed through his expression.

“You once asked me to come to Gusu with you”.

“Hmm”.

“What can I say, it is your fault for not saying when…”

Wei Wuxian stood up, leaving the wine behind, to get to where Lan Wangji stood.

“Now I’m here, can I be here?” he stole a quick glance at Lan Wangji’s hands, as if trying to make up his mind, and then took both in his, bringing the two pairs together in between them. “What I’m saying is, I want to stay by your side, teach A-Yuan to shoot arrows, feed the rabbits, and whatever boring things you do in Gusu, I want to do those with you”.

Wei Ying’s smile hid a shade of embarrassment, the novelty of a realisation, a confession.

This very thing gave Lan Wangji a surge of confidence to kiss the hands that intertwined with his. A softness enveloped each kiss, not only because of the pressure but for the years of longing enclosed in each contact.

“You love me”.

“Ah, Hanguang-Jun, am I such a bad influence that you’ve become this shameless? What would your uncle say?” Wei Ying gifted him with a mischievous grin. “Don’t be mad, Lan Zhan, I’m only teasing you, it’s too easy”.

A trembled ensued when the pressure of Wei Ying’s lips caressed his hands, mirroring his previous gesture.

“I do love you”.

Oh. Lan Wangji said to himself.

Another realisation.

“Wei Ying did not love me”.

The one in front of him laughed in response.

“If so, then who am I?”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes and kissed his forehead, making him catch his breath.

“Not real”.

He woke up to the tickling of tears. A trail of bitterness stained his face. The merciless reality of the image of the Jingshi, turned monochrome by the dimness of night, rendered him helpless. How small it seemed to be in a world made so big by the hole torn with Wei Ying’s absence. His heart’s willingness to deny the facts, to rush back and check the Burial Mounds once again, surfaced yet another night. This vain disposition had to be snuffed out. Wei Ying would not come back to Gusu with him.

And the knowledge of said truth did grow heavily indeed.

A-Yuan, now turned Lan Shizui, grew up faster than anticipated.

Of course, that was not true. Everybody becomes older at a steady pace, set by time only. And yet… the years had seemed to merge in such a way that it simultaneously appeared to him that an eternity had been caught in the blink of an eye, but he had not possessed a second to taste it. How could he? Moreso when the aftertaste left such sourness.

If only Wei Ying could have guided Shizui for all these years. He had to wonder how their… his son would have turned out to be. Would they recognise each other in the sharpness of their minds? Could Wei Ying’s smile show on Shizui’s face as more than the infrequent sliver he so desperately searched for? Seeking it just to feel shame at his boldness immediately afterwards. He had always vowed to treat Shizui as his own person, succeeding at it for the most part, but, at certain points in time he could not help but to ponder on the shadow his former soulmate casted onto the child.

Oftentimes Shizui came to the Jingshi to practice his skills on the guqin. Most should assume he did so in order to receive advice regarding his playing, such was the case… almost every time. There were moments, seconds, in which he could see the pride in Shizui’s eyes. Of course, such behaviour was forbidden and he quickly censored himself.

But it was there, nonetheless.

“You stopped” Lan Wangji observed, finally, opening his eyes and dropping his meditation position.

Shizui looked up from the table in which he had laid out a piece of paper and writing utensils. When did he do that? Oh, Lan Wangji must have been too entertained by his own thoughts to notice it in time.

“Yes, I did. Should I go over the pieces again, father?” he asked, gesturing to retrieve the guqin.

“That won’t be needed”.

“Then I will be leaving momentarily, it will be nine in not so long”.

Lan Wangji answered by giving a small nod.

“Thank you…”

“What is it?”

“I made this once I finished practicing”.

Shizui moved towards him, holding the piece of paper loosely in his hand. He placed it carefully on the table in front of Lan Wangji. And there it was: a drawing. Not unlike the one Wei Ying had made of him so many years ago. The style appeared far less whimsical, yet, not as observant as it’s counterpart. How unfortunate, the implications of said realisation. Did Wei Ying pay attention to him to such an extent?

No need to wander about what could have been. For it was pointless.

Shizui’s linework showed off preciseness and finesse, paired up with a great sense of depth in the interpretation of lights and shadows. Lan Wangji could not help but to smile at the display of talent.

“Thank you, A-Yuan”.

In spite of having stated his intent to leave, Shizui stood in front of him, as if debating something. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. Right after a change of expression, he threw himself at Lan Wangji’s side and hugged him tightly.

“Hmm?”

“I’m afraid. Sometimes you leave somewhere distant, father, and I’m afraid”.

‘Please…’ Lan Wangji pleaded stricken with panic.

Mishearing a collection of sounds.

If someone had told him that would bring upon him the most terrifying experience of his life… Lan Wangji would have simply given them a look of disdain. How could that elicit fear from him when he had been witness to the love of his life letting go of one bleeding arm. He thought about the Xuanwu of Slaughter, that cave where Wei Ying had fallen asleep while he sang to him, looking so pale it almost appeared as if death had claimed him already and spared him. Gods, death had pardoned him from falling alongside Wei Ying! He could think of no greater torture.

And yet, he found himself running like a desperate man through the outskirts of Dafan Mountain, dodging natural obstacles with none of his usual poise.

An eco.

That’s what had set him so far off who he had barely managed to see himself become during the last sixteen years. His spirit, his heart, mummified shrouded by the mourning clothes he had begun to wear to somehow memorialise the departure of his life.

That attire flung forward and backwards, moved by the winds.

Please.

Jin Guangyao was right, all those years ago. Now that maybe, maybe, he could be returned to him, loosing him again would only bear the worst king of suffering.

Have this not be another call without answer.

No matter what uncle saw when he stared at him.

He would accept any new whip scar a thousand times over to just have him be real, wake up in a world where he existed.

Anything.

Anything would be better than missing him so. Better than the memory of the initial years, spending every night crying himself to sleep for the first time in his life. Better than breathing just to pretend the sensation filled the empty within his lungs.

He ran. He ran like his life depended on it, because, maybe, it did.

With each step the world burned and it didn’t matter. The sound became clearer and nothing else mattered. He had lived through sixteen years of snuffing hopefulness and finding sustenance in the memory of a song he had once sung in a cave, but, now that he heard it, maybe it had been worth it.

He began to sprint in spite of how scary the idea of a world with him suddenly became, a place where he could lose him again. His figure almost flew across the forest, because he would not allow it. Lan Wangji was never losing Wei Ying twice.

Right then, he reached the clearing.

Thanks a lot for reading!!! If I butchered the spelling of some name or term, please tell me!

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

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RWBY Recap: “As Above, So Below”

Welcome back, everyone. So. Last Saturday I was actually feeling pretty good about RWBY. Not as a whole, but for that particular episode because, as I explained to a lovely anon, not much happened. Sure, there were some semi-important bits in the form of meeting Willow and Weiss discovering the recording, but compared to everything else we’ve gotten this volume it was all around a tame fifteen minutes. Which meant there wasn’t much space for RWBY to mess things up. There simply weren’t any stakes last episode. You don’t like how the group gets past Whitley or the exact words Ironwood says to Jacques? It’s ultimately whatever in the grand scheme of things. Last episode was mostly details.

“As Above, So Below” is not that kind of episode. So much happens and I’m once again left metaphorically banging my head against the wall, not regarding the writing choices themselves per se, but rather at how they’re used and portrayed. There is so much that I want to enjoy about this episode but Rooster Teeth continually ignores aspects of a situation in order to highlight one very narrow, very biased viewpoint. The scenes throughout demand that we conveniently forget or outright ignore certain things in order to immerse ourselves in whatever emotion the writing has decided we should be feeling right now ... and I simply can’t do that. RWBY is a show based on the claim that it’s a bright sunny day, so pay no mind to the rain clouds hovering above your head. It’s the animated equivalent of a Jedi mind trick. These are not the interpretations you’re looking for.

Secrets are finally revealed, folks, and oh boy. It’s a hot mess.

But let’s start at the beginning.

Undermining my assumption last recap that Watts had dismantled something that was regulating just a portion of Mantle’s temperature---something specific to maintaining rain over snow---we learn that all heating has been lost across the city. Which, if you know anything about temperature and the fragile human body, is really fucking bad. Here RWBY actually did a good job of introducing Weiss’ comment early in the volume about how people can freeze to death within an hour or so. We were still left with a few detail-oriented questions like how useful aura is in combating that, why Ruby was still so cold with her, why no one was showing symptoms back during the walk to the farm... but at least the setup is clear here. Civilians don’t have aura so that’s that. They’re dead if they don’t find some way to keep warm (riot fires help...) or aren’t evacuated somewhere else. It’s a big deal, though how exactly this fits into the rest of Watts’ plan and the other bits of chaos he’s accomplished is still unclear. More on that in a bit.

We see Pietro and Maria, but they don’t actually do anything this episode. They just stand around looking scared as people get violent and the city is covered in ominous red lights. At least the show remembers that they exist, but we don’t get to see the brilliant scientist specializing in creating weaponry and the former Grimm Reaper doing something to help. So... B grade on that one?

There’s no time skip this episode so with Mantle unraveling we segue right back to the dinner at the Schnee’s. Ironwood is still getting called out for having too much power. He pushes back that there are checks and balances in place to keep everyone, including him, from abusing that power. This is countered with a broad and not very persuasive claim that they simply haven’t worked. Ironwood comes back with a line about intentions and the nameless (?) council guy goes, “What people intend and what people do are not always the same thing!” Well no shit. If that were the case everyone’s lives would be staggeringly easier. You intend to find the madman who dismantled your army at Beacon? Boom, done. Intend to find the murderer responsible for attacking Robyn’s supporters? Congratulations, you did it. RWBY now has a habit of throwing out lines to remind us that the evil men in power---notably Ozpin and Ironwood---might intend to do good, but look! They haven’t managed it! Which... yes? Sometimes intentions fail, but that leaves the unanswered question of what these characters (and the writing) want them to do instead. No one has the luxury of changing their situation and everyone continues to ignore the fact that there are only bad options all around. I’d rather have someone with good intentions at the helm than, you know, Jacques. It also speaks volumes that as much as the council and RWBYJNR has been criticizing Ironwood lately, everyone still expects him to make the hard call himself. They don’t want that responsibility; they want a scapegoat if and when things go wrong. Just like the group was happy to scream at Ozpin and then get pissed that he left, leaving them to make the hard decisions themselves for once, everyone is screaming at Ironwood and then two minutes later turn about with, “So what should we do, General? What’s your plan? How are you going to fix this?” Though I don’t think any of it is intentional, RWBY has a lot to say about how only good and lucky leaders get to come out of their role unscathed. No matter what you do someone hates you for it and even choosing to abstain isn’t an option, as we saw clearly with Ozpin.

At this point the meeting is briefly interrupted by a waiter who tells Jacques about the heating issue. He responds with a, “My authorization?” before trying to cover things up, awkwardly agreeing with the conversation he just missed. Robyn announces that she’s not done with Ironwood yet though and accuses him of more failures, ending with, “yet you won’t let your own council help you?” which... honestly? Just hammers home how not useful this “Ironwood should trust everyone!” mindset is. Because is Robyn really that dense? The council is Jacques and two of his lackeys. You know, the guy who is about to be arrested for treason and as an accomplice to murder. Even though that hasn’t been revealed yet, Robyn is very well aware of what a corrupt, dangerous individual he is. Remember that she herself is not the council. She was given a “seat at the table” because Jacques wanted to use her against Ironwood. Robyn is sitting here symbolically pointing to Jacques and the two members he has wrapped around his finger going, “Why aren’t you trusting them?” like that’s in any way a sound suggestion. Sometimes the answer to, “Why are you doing Bad Things like keeping secrets?” is “Because people can be unimaginably stupid.” This is an example of that. Robyn wants to know everything and right now she’s willing to risk that information falling into an enemy’s hands to get it.

(Also, that picture in the background? Says a lot that Jacques has a picture of him, his obedient son, and his terrified wife in the room where he conducts business. No Weiss or Winter in sight.)

Ironwood, of course, tells a straight out lie with an excellent poker face. “I’m not hiding anything.” Which inspires Robyn to use her semblance. Oh no! An insanely convenient ability that would undo every conflict we’ve set up for this season! However will we avoid this? Timing, obviously. Weiss, also conveniently, barges in right when Robyn has put Ironwood on the spot. I said it as soon as Robyn’s semblance was introduced: if you give someone that level of power---something that can too easily solve all the problems you’ve set up---then you have to keep coming up with semi-contrived ways of keeping them from using it.

Also, does she need skin-on-skin contact for her semblance to work? I wonder if that’s why she’s got that one random finger missing on her glove.

Wiess plays the recording of Watts and Jacques, giving us the rest of their conversation. We don’t learn anything new. Watts promised Jacques a seat on the council and he in turn (supposedly) would get the satisfaction of ruining Ironwood’s life. Jacques handed over his login information, including what he gained post-election, and now Watts has access to everything he built and then some. To say that’s bad is an understatement. You might be distracted from your worry though by hearing that cake line again as well as the men’s villainous laughs. RWBY really went full cartoon for that conversation.

A detail I really love though? Ironwood’s rhythmic footsteps as he walks around the table. Super ominous and intimidating. Meanwhile, a hilarious detail is how awkward Jacques gets when he’s finally lost that precious control. This isn’t a confident man capable of denying the accusations against him in anything like a persuasive manner. He doesn’t have Ironwood’s poker face. Jacques is a coward who looks like a schoolboy seated in the principal’s office once caught.

He attempts to escape only to find Weiss’ knight blocking the exit, the one we now know was the possessed armor that belonged to her grandfather. In a thoroughly satisfying moment she declares that Jacques is under arrest... and then turns around to ask Ironwood if she can actually do that. I’m on the fence about this. Normally I don’t mind a bit of humor lightening the mood, but in this case we have three things that I don’t think are improving the situation. The first is the sheer emotional impact that should be accompanying this arrest. This is Weiss’ abuser. The man we’ve known about (incidentally anyway) since Volume 1 and who has driven nearly the entirety of her character development from working to escape him pre-RWBY to coming back as a huntress. Provided that Jacques doesn’t pull a Torchwick and escape himself somehow, this is the culmination of nearly seven volumes worth of heartbreaking struggle. There are some things that I think should be allowed to shoulder their weight without undercutting it with a joke and this is 100% one of them. Just like finding out that a friend you thought had been permanently torn to pieces in front of you should generate heartfelt shock and joy, reaching the moment where you finally arrest one of the show’s biggest personal villains should be treated seriously. Let Weiss have this and put the joke later if you still want it. Weiss could be staring hollow-eyed at her father being put in handcuffs and Ruby could try to cheer her up. “So...” she says. “Can we arrest people?” Weiss blinks, coming out of her stupor, and gives a tentative smile. “Don’t know, actually. But it’s working in this case.” There. Serious moment leading to a bit of comedy-bonding. Humor is a wonderful tool, but it also lessens the other emotions of a scene if not used properly.

Potential issues #2 and #3 are smaller. On a personal note, hearing Weiss’ question simply reminded me, again, that RWBY has failed to establish hard rules for its world, including what a huntsmen’s job entails. A few weeks ago fans were arguing over whether Blake and Yang should feel anything in regards to killing Adam because, according to some, it’s already a part of a huntsmen’s responsibilities to arrest and if necessary kill people. Why would they flinch at something they knew they were signing up for? Others (myself included) pointed out that although we see the students sparing with one another at school, no one says anything about them taking out human and faunus criminals. RWBYJNR’s adventures---from Ruby stopping the robbery in her trailer to tracking down the White Fang---are presented as outliers. This is not the sort of stuff huntsmen are meant to get up to. They fight grimm first and foremost. Everything else is a case-by-case surprise. Note, for example, that Ironwood expects his army to keep the peace and presumably the police when things aren’t quite so dangerous. He’s not sending huntsmen out to track down everyday criminals because that’s not their job. Killing grimm is. Weiss’ comment reinforces that. Can I arrest someone? Is that within my power as a huntress? And Ironwood... doesn’t answer. Because it’s meant to be a joke, not a legitimate bit of world building.

And then the third... is just how Rooster Teeth is using humor throughout the entirety of this episode. AKA not well, which makes me less inclined to give this particular moment the benefit of the doubt. We’ll get to that in just a second though. For now I’ve written way to much on a two second scene.

While Jacques’ plans unravel the rioting in Mantle is getting worse and worse. “Atlas killed the heat on purpose! They’ll do anything to control us!” which is very much a conclusion born of panic. It feels like every other episode Mantle is on the verge of collapse and, by extension, all of these moments feel anti-climactic. We’ve watched Mantle rioting over the embargo, and then Penny, and then the election, and now the heat... none of it feels like it has weight anymore. Rioting is just the way we’re ending most episodes now. It also (again) raises that question of what exactly Watts is trying to accomplish, and not in a “Still to be revealed!” kind of way. We do still have an element of that, but at this point there’s also just a, “Literally what was the point?” aspect too. Why is Mantle rioting most episodes? Shouldn’t that be something to build to? More importantly---as I’ve said before---WHY did they frame Penny? We see in the next scene that Jacques’ guilt likewise reveals Penny’s innocence... even though everyone important knew that two seconds after she was accused. There were no consequences attached to blaming her and, as just established, we clearly didn’t need the loss of a city defender to bring that city to the brink. Mantle has been going over the edge for a variety of reasons and the people were at that point before the group even arrived. When Penny was first framed that seemed like a brilliant setup. Now we see definitively that it led nowhere. Why did Watts bother and why did the writers? It’s another case of RWBY chucking in things they think are “cool” without bothering to follow up on them.

So yeah. The Penny situation is done. We didn’t even get any development out of her from it. That really is disappointing.

With everything Jacques did on the table the situation looks bleaker by the minute. What can Watts do with this control? “With enough time… whatever he wants.” The group finds out that the first thing he did with this power is shut off the heat and Weiss has the most dramatic reaction, which makes sense given that she’s the one who best understands the risks here. And then... then.

Oh dear god.

Ironwood realizes that Watts may eventually have access to the Amity info, if he stumbles across it or actively goes looking for things to uncover. This revelation on its own is good. That’s something Ironwood needs to try and prevent, so it would have been an excellent moment of storytelling to show us Ironwood’s moment of revelation, perhaps with a bit of dramatic music to hammer things home. Except that instead of keeping this issue between the people who know about it---Ironwood and Ruby could have exchanged knowing glances like Blake and Yang did when they first started keeping their secrets---Rooster Teeth has Ironwood talk about loud to himself about the major secret he’s keeping. He literally calls it a secret! “No. The secret is safe for now. But if he learns about Amity…” Hello?? I understand that this episode is all about things coming to light, but that moment was an absolute insult to Ironwood’s character. We just saw this man claim with a perfectly straight face that he had nothing to hide. Five minutes later he’s apparently lost so much intelligence he stands in front of four people he’s keeping secrets from, including Jacques Schnee, and starts soliloquizing about said secrets. That is the most stupid and contrived way to get caught in a lie. Oh no! I totally forgot a bunch of people were standing beside me! Now everyone has heard that I’m keeping a secret since I felt the need to state that out loud...

And in case anyone thought this is a case where I’m reading too much into things, Robyn literally laughs and goes, “Yep! Still here, everyone!” Reminding them that someone who is not supposed to know about this stuff is standing... right there... listening in... The writing draws attention to it.

This trumps all other former stupidity. Like the group loudly announcing their attempts to avoid getting arrested in the city covered with surveillance. This is so stupid I want to turn it into a meme. Cleanse this scene somehow.

Anyway. More rioting. More anger. Shock, surprise, that draws a ton of grimm. Take note of the fact that Ironwood’s army is almost useless against this barrage. The missiles from the airships don’t seem to take the horde out. Nor do the guns. Two other soldiers are forced to cower when some pterodactyl-type grimm flies overhead.

I say this not to bash the army itself (they’re doing their best while up against horrible odds), but rather to re-emphasize how not good telling the whole world about Salem is. Everyone seems to forget that, first and foremost, this is the concern that Ozpin dealt with. Even if he was 100% wrong on every other count---no one would lose hope, no one would ever betray him---it is impossible to hear about Salem and not experience negative emotions and those negative emotions draw grimm that kill everyone. Ironwood’s primary justification was that he’ll use his army to protect the people when that happens and (ignoring that his army can’t possibly be everywhere at once) we see here that it’s all but useless. His soldiers may have been able to handle the grunt grimm seen at the breach and the Battle of Beacon, but they’re helpless in the face of anything stronger, the exact sort of stuff that world-wide panic over an immortal woman would draw. Clover makes it clear when he arrives that only huntsmen stand a real chance and huntsmen are few and far between nowadays. They lost an entire school. Lionheart made sure nearly all the huntsmen in Mistral were killed. They’ve reached a point where teens are given licenses at least two years early, without full training, because they need the help that badly. Ironwood cannot protect the people if their fear grows stronger. That’s not his fault, but it also means he can’t afford to deliberately stoke that fear. Telling the world about Salem, whether she’s immortal or not, is a 100% death wish for lots and lots and lots of people.

That’s why I can’t get behind an idealistic view of, “But they deserve to know.” Maybe they do, but if given the choice I’d rather keep people in the dark and let them live their lives than tell them for the sake of the moral high-ground and risk the very likely possibility that they’ll die a horrible, bloody death.

Then, finally... we come back to the group’s secrets.

As established, Robyn is calling Ironwood out on his own secret keeping because he just admitted aloud to having a secret. 100% dodged her suspicion by Weiss’ timely arrival and Jacques getting outed as a traitor, then went ahead and shot himself in the foot. Sorry. I just really can’t stress that enough. Anyway, she’s homing in like a bloodhound, backing him into another corner, and this is the animation they decide to give us.

This is why I haven’t liked the group since mid-Volume 5. Because they’ve become reckless, hypocritical, often incredibly cruel people. Animation is a drawing. Someone had to decide and design this moment. Nothing is left to chance. So Rooster Teeth made a conscious decision to have Ruby almost-smiling in this moment. Looking pleased and happy at the very least. She’s still keeping her own secrets and is taking pleasure in the fact that Ironwood’s are coming to light. This is the exactly the same behavior we saw with Ozpin and (to a lesser extent) Cordovin. The satisfaction this group derives from either seeing or handing out what they perceive as another’s just desserts while they themselves are committing the same or worse sins. Ruby should not look happy here in the same way that she should not have pushed for Ironwood to sacrifice Mantle in the name of finishing a doomed project. And as we’ll see in a moment, she shouldn’t be giggling with Oscar over the shared damage they’ve caused.

At this point everyone is ganging up on Ironwood. Yes, including Oscar. As a preface to all this, I love my farm boy. Just not how Rooster Teeth has been writing my farm boy. Because this is what I meant at the very start of this recap. Oscar and Ruby’s speeches here are only inspiring if you choose to ignore the fact that, in this moment, they’re still keeping their own secrets. I honestly thought Oscar was going to come clean when he approached Ironwood leaning against the wall. Instead he offers his advice which is, straight up, to just stop keeping secrets. Says the kid who is still keeping secrets. Oscar even goes so far as to say that “You already knew that wasn’t the right course” which is the biggest load of BS I’ve heard on this show so far. No! No one agreed that was the wrong path. You all explicitly decided that keeping secrets was the right thing to do. They’re telling him he was wrong to choose the thing they benefited from and continue to use to their advantage in this scene.“Tell the truth,” Oscar insists, still not telling the truth. “You’re not alone,” Ruby adds when she hasn’t trusted Ironwood once this season. This moment is manipulation because Oscar and Ruby both are trying to convince Ironwood to do something using false personas. Ironwood believes that he should listen to them precisely because he thinks they’ve achieved the very thing they’re demanding of him: sharing all their secrets. He thinks they’re models to look up to. When in fact Ironwood is the only one who has ever managed this demand by sharing his plan with them, completely of his own volition.

The fact that they decide to tell him a few minutes later doesn’t matter. They already got what they wanted and the damage is done. I mean that literally. By manipulating Ironwood into spilling the beans, they’ve created a situation where Ironwood revealed the Salem secret to the council and Robyn but not her immortality. Ironwood himself only learns of that afterward, back in the dining room, and you can see the utter devastation on his face.

Is it still a good idea to tell two highly suspect council members and a woman who has been his semi-enemy about Salem given that she can’t be killed? Who knows. We don’t get to tackle that question because Ironwood wasn’t given a choice. It’s too late. He was pressured and manipulated into a making a huge decision without all the necessary information (which, for the record, is still not the same thing as the group deciding to help people and do the job they signed up for without knowing about Salem). Even if nothing horrible results from these three people now knowing about Salem, Oscar and Ruby have created more problems. We hear the council woman ask fearfully whether Ironwood can defeat Salem. The only thing holding them together is the hope that they can still win with their army... but they can’t. What’s Ironwood going to do with that expectation now? Will he tell them about her immortality too? Risk what they might do in response? Don’t you think this is something he should have known about weeks ago, Ruby? “You should know before you make any… sacrifices” Oscar tells Ironwood, completely ignoring the fact that he already made sacrifices. Mantle was a sacrifice. Those resources were a sacrifice. Telling the council was a sacrifice. Ironwood’s ongoing hope that he could finally end this, stretched out far longer than it had to be, was a sacrifice.

What kills me is the casual nature of it all. There was no catalyst here. Nothing new happened to convince the group that they can suddenly trust Ironwood. If they’re willing to trust him now that means they trusted him before and just didn’t tell him because... they didn’t. The defense of “He’s unstable, who knows what he might do to them and Mantle once he finds out the truth!” was a smokescreen the whole time. Because nothing changed. Ironwood said and did nothing in the last fifteen minutes to suddenly cause the revelation of, “Oh my god. We can trust him. Now we finally know we’re safe to reveal this secret.” They could have done it on day two and avoided so much strife. Like, you know, the situation in Mantle that Nora felt the need to scream at Ironwood about. Maybe if you’d told him his plan was doomed he might not have taken so many resources from the people, given that he’d have known there was no longer a justification for that. You had the power to fix the problems you blamed him for from the get-go.

Combine this with Oscar and Ruby’s horrible conversation. Sure, the rosegarden shippers are thrilled, but beyond the fact that I’m personally not shipping Ruby with a boy housing her 1,000 year old headmaster, that (once again) was not the correct emotion to apply to this moment. They both come across as horrendously callous by laughing and giggling through the decision to finally tell Ironwood. It’s not like these secrets have driven this entire volume and are about to absolutely devastate him or anything. Why would you have a serious conversation about this? Why express even an ounce of sympathy and regret for what you’ve done? Nah, better to jump around and give each other thumbs up. Act so proud that you’ve randomly decided to come clean, like you deserve praise for this. Kids, am I right, Marrow?

Seriously. This is how these two treat the situation vs. what the situation actually is.

Which in a horrible way is fitting because there are zero consequences for all this. (Cue my shock...) Ironwood isn’t mad about any of this. He jokes with Oscar! “No more surprises, alright?” Given that RWBY releases weekly and thus there’s plenty of time between episodes, I feel like people forget the expectations they developed months back. The more optimistic side of the fandom (god bless you all, you’ve got more hope than me) keeps insisting that eventually the group’s new behavior will lead to repercussions, but time and time again Rooster Teeth tells us they won’t. Not for putting Argus in danger. Not for stealing an airship. Not for keeping the secrets Ozpin was crucified over a whole volume for. And that’s still going. Alongside Qrow’s talk with Ruby, Ironwood is given the space to blame Ozpin again---“Why? Why would Oz keep this from us?”---and has no desire to blame the group for doing the exact same thing. Oscar is allowed to go, “Sorry! We just didn’t trust you” but the same justification out of Ozpin’s mouth doesn’t fly, despite the fact that he had a hundred more reasons not to trust a bunch of teens. The level of hypocrisy in this episode is just staggering. We all watched Ruby tell Ozpin’s lies and went, “Oh yeah. This is going to come back to bite them” and it didn’t.

There is nothing the group can do to get in trouble, or even a reprimand for. Anything and everything is twisted to praise them:

Destroyed precious military equipment (which this episode’s attack shows that the world desperately needs) and nearly get people killed by attacking an ally? You get a free ride to Atlas.

Broke Atlas’ laws by stealing their property and then avoiding the police? You get hugs from your sister and early huntsmen licenses.

You tell the exact same lies you demonized your headmaster for? You’re so much better than he is and I’m so proud of you.

Keep secrets from Ironwood, making a horrible situation even worse? Haha no more surprises in the future please!

And yes, this also includes: Going behind everyone’s back to spill information to Robyn? No one will even find out you did that. I’ve seen a post going around with people expressing how pleased they are that Robyn didn’t rat Blake and Yang out. That’s the level of bias the fandom and the writers are working under. The group gets away with everything because they’re the protagonists. Everyone adores them unconditionally. At this point I think they could join with Salem and people would insist that it’s the smartest and most badass move they could possibly make. Fans and the writing would praise them for that too.

Ugh. Sorry for the level of salt in this recap. For the record I am glad that others are able to enjoy all of these moments. I just can’t. Oh boy I can’t.

Alright. Close to wrapping up now. A series of smaller things: Oscar has another moment where he draws on Ozpin’s memories of Atlas being built. “You say that like you were there---” Ironwood says. We’ve spent a lot of time theorizing about the merge but in light of this episode... are we really expecting an explanation? RWBY hasn’t adequately explained dust vs. magic, or Qrow’s semblance, or why we should be rooting for heroes who do everything their perceived opponents do. Why would we expect them to explain something as complicated as this merge either? I think we should just expect a continually wishy-washy situation that changes based on the whims of the plot.

Ren and Nora have a moment on the airship that sparks another charged look between Blake and Yang. Are we ever going to tackle the huge concerns Ren had a few episodes back before they were silenced with a kiss? Does he or anyone else know that Oscar spilled the beans? For that matter, did Oscar admit that there’s still a question left in the relic? Does Ironwood actually want to lock it up now like they should have from the start? Did he explain precisely why Ozpin ran off? These answers remain lost to the void.

Jaune looks like he’s going to be sick after the airship is attacked. Nice throwback to episode one.

Whitley is devastated by his father’s arrest, truly alone now. He slinks off with Willow watching him go. Hopefully with Jacques out of the way she and Weiss (and possibly Winter) can start helping him. Show him how to connect with others in ways besides cruelty.

The group then jumps out of the destroyed ship... but not before Elm and Harriet tease each other a bit. In a kind way. One might almost say... a friendly way...

Yeah these people aren’t friends. No way. What an absurd assumption. Will the show ever come back to that assertion, or will it remain another illogical way of insisting that the group is intrinsically better than everyone else they come into contact with? I’m betting on the latter.

Finally, we catch glimpses of a disguised Neo infiltrating the Schnee manor. After everyone leaves she returns to Cinder who says, “Oh, you’re back early. Tell me you’ve found what we’ve been looking for” and Neo gives an affirmative gesture. To which I respond with no emotion whatsoever because this episode has scorched me from the inside out.

1/10 with the 1 given because yay arresting Jacques. Everything else I’d happily put through a paper shredded. I’m gonna go cleanse my mind with more Witcher 3 now.

Until next week! Everyone start praying...

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #rwby recaps #mymetas

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