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chidoroki · 3 years

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TPN - “Dreams Come True”

What better way to cheer up the TPN fandom after the second season’s final episode than with the special exhibition chapter finally being fully translated. I caught glimpses of a few pages here and there over the past couple months but seeing all the children live happily together in the human world in their own little village that they made close to Emma and Alex warms my heart. Of course I would’ve loved if we got to see more of the GP Resistance (because the anime denied us of them) but following the GF kids around the world as they experience their dreams is fair enough. We started the series alongside them so might as well finish strong with them too. I really loved seeing everyone grow up but no matter how old they get or how much time passes, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Emma without her iconic “63194.” It’s a bittersweet feeling for me, but her smiles bring me so much joy and I’m beyond happy that she accepted everyone into her life as they accepted her without her memories.

I haven’t a clue on how much time passed since everyone found Emma in ch181 to now, but seeing her call out everyone’s names is a little detail that I love so much considering she had no idea who anyone was at first. Trying to remember 60+ names doesn’t seem like an easy task to me. No doubt I was just as shocked as our girl upon learning these mere children bought a goddamn plane! We learn in a couple pages that it’s because of Norman’s company that they can afford it, but still, he’s like 15 or 16 now? He’s still a child! And I’m impressed! Not only at him, but that Oliver and Violet became pilots as well! It’s especially cute when you remember that Lucas gave Oliver a little toy plane during their time at Goldy Pond.

Speaking of GP, is it just me or does Emma’s current outfit resemble her GP one just a little bit? Sure we have no idea what color scheme this one has but come on, the short jacket, the dark shirt and jeans.. just imagine it! Jemima, Yvette, Alicia and Mark remade Gillian’s original GP outfit sometime before the Grace Field Raid arc (ch137 extra page) so I don’t doubt they could’ve done the same for Emma. Of course that’s just me being completely hopeful and missing the Goldy Pond arc to death but yeah! I’m also so happy to see Chris up and moving again! Seeing him wake up briefly in ch181 was nice but this is so much better. I imagine he and Emma have a lot to catch up on in terms of stories, with him being unconscious since ch105 and Emma not remembering anything.

But here we go, the original 15 escapees plus Norman, Phil, Sherry, I believe I saw Carol somewhere and a couple other random kiddos ready to see the entire world. They get to accomplish so much.. and in a single day too I believe? At least that’s what Phil and Alicia say a bit later about everyone’s wishes, but aahh what a lucky bunch. Hell, I’ll say we’re lucky readers too to be able to see such a great story. Can’t thank Shirai and Demizu enough y’all. I wish we got to see more of Alex though. He’s such a kind soul but I’m sure he’ll be just fine staying behind with everyone else.

This entire page where we learn about Norman as a CEO is gold. I still can’t believe this child successfully built up an entire multipurpose company not only to help their search for Emma but also because he didn’t want to live off the Ratri clan. I wish I knew about this last week when writing out Norman’s birthday post because hell yeah this deserves some praise! AND he managed to graduate school as well during all that! Well, by skipping grades which totally makes sense. I mean, if he managed to pass all the Grace Field and Lambda tests effortlessly I’m sure normal human world school was a piece of cake for him. Holy shit dude, keep on impressing me why don’t ya. Not only him but Nigel and Sonya too! I’m not surprised that Vincent helped out but I’m glad those two got a tiny moment to shine as well! Ray is another obvious choice when it comes to helping Norman, as they’re best friends and he’s always been good with machines.. but boy, I can’t take you seriously when you’re just sitting there unamused and eating chips! Hahah I love him so much! And the fact he replies to Norman’s idea with just a simple “kay” is an eternal mood.

Okay boys aside, can we talk about our fabulous girls now? Because oh my god, they’re so darn beautiful! They’re more fashionable than I’ll ever be and it’s so cute how they drag Emma along to take advantage of the 3-for-1 deal. But our girl pulls off that sporty look so well! (r.i.p. goldy pond outfit ver2.0). I’m not at all surprised that Nat wanted to go see the opera. That's perfect for him and I’d like to think the anime did something similar with that one shot we see of him in the human world. We don’t see him in a theater like this but to me it looks like he’s on the streets of Broadway? At least that’s the vibe I get from it. I’m sure there was something music related on one of those signs.

I can’t get over how adorable all the children look and how happy they are fulfilling their wishes, even if some of them aren’t as extravagant as others. Like eating a fluffy pancake and a ton of ice cream? We can do that whenever we want. But for these kids, it means everything and they absolutely deserve to experience such simple joys like that after all the harsh nonsense they’ve been through. I also love how Ray continues to be such a great older brother by still looking out for them too. The fact he remains completely unfazed by the haunted house is perfect. This boy has been haunted by his own nightmares and demons his entire life, there’s no way a couple of lousy jump scares are gonna spook him. Though I do find it funny that Alicia and Rossi still manage to get scared while Yvette is having the time of her life. I can’t help but laugh at Thoma’s “Shirai face” as well.

I find it interesting that out of all the different kinds of exhibits they could’ve shown us while Rossi visits a museum, they give us dinosaurs.. like that seems so silly to me. Y’all have seen several demons in your young lives already and yet dinosaurs manage to amaze you too? God these kids are precious. And then our boy Phil finally gets to see and ride a train! Just look how happy he is! The poor kid can’t even sit still he’s so darn excited and I can’t help but smile with him! Thankfully the anime showed us this too.

We eventually get to Ray’s wish and guys.. oh my fucking god. Tell me that this is not the absolute best and prettiest smile we get to see from him!! It honestly leaves me speechless okay? Ray never imagined he would ever get to see the outside world, let alone live past the age of 12, and yet here he is, seeing such a beautiful sight such as this, right in front of him instead of from inside a book. You can’t believe how happy and proud of him I am right now. Did you see how ecstatic I was when the anime kept Isabella alive? Multiply that feeling by ten and there ya go. That’s my level of happiness upon seeing my favorite boy smile like THAT! AAHHH!! That panel is gonna live rent free in my head until the end of time. I can’t get over how damn perfect it is. His smile is so pure and how he looks like he’s in complete awe is beautiful. He’s about to burst into tears and I swear I might do the same because I’m making myself emotional over this fantastic boy. Someone hold me.

No seriously, hold me because we’re about to get into some angst as we move onto to Emma’s wish. We all know that ever since 2039 her one dream was to ride a giraffe once they got outside, so here we are, about ten years later and the animals in question are within reach. Our girl should be totally excited, right? Ha, not quite.

That wish was something the old Emma wanted, but since demon god had to be such a bastard, this Emma doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to even feel. She hasn’t experienced the same hardships as her family. She hasn’t gone through hell and back while holding onto that one wish that would make all the suffering worth it. The amount of joy everyone else felt upon living out their dreams, she wonders if she would be able to feel it too.

They brought her here to make her happy, but is this truly want she wants as well? This is old Emma’s wish after all. What about her and what she wants? Could this wish make her just as happy as her old self? She knows her family is only trying to help, but seeing her doubt herself does a number on my heart. Even without her memories, she’s still the same Emma deep down, as she doesn’t want to disappoint her family. She spends so much time worrying about living up to her family’s expectations, to try and be that Emma they all love so dearly.

Little does she know that she acts the exact same as usual, almost as if nothing has changed when she finally expresses how much she wants to ride a giraffe. And that’s great considering when they first arrived at the giraffes, no on had even mentioned riding them. She came across that feeling all on her own and everyone else can’t help but laugh and feel relieved. Her mind may have forgotten but her heart remembers everything. There is no “old Emma” and “new Emma” to her family, just “Emma” and words can’t express how wholesome that is because they love her regardless. All that matters to them is Emma’s happiness because if anyone deserves to feel and experience that, it’s her.

I just made myself tear up, damn it. I started this series with season one okay? I heard about this precious girl’s dream within the first minute of the first episode and here I am, a little bit over two years later, finally reading about it coming true and seeing that bright as hell smile on her face. Do you know how amazing it is to come full circle like that? My heart feels so full right now. I’m beyond proud of her and love her to death. Say what you want but I believe this to be the true manga ending in my eyes.

(damn this series for always getting me emotional)

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #tpn norman #tpn ray #tpn emma #norman #ray #emma #chidoroki used chatter

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thedistrictsleepsalonetonight · 3 years

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A goddamn blaze in the dark

The first time Emily sees Sue, the first thing she does is drop a cup of steaming hot coffee onto the floor, slip on it and land flat on her back behind the counter. And then she thinks — Oh. Found you.

To be fair, even without the pesky niggling at the back of her head, very helpfully pointing out that this was the girl, her soulmate, the love of her life, her forever and beyond, the sight of Sue would have knocked her down anyways. What else are you supposed to do when a pretty girl, dressed in tweed, with her hair tied up in a braid, walks into the coffee shop where you work with that smile on her face? That damned smile that doesn’t ask you so as much as inform you that you’re going to be haunted by it in your dreams tonight? With 10 am sunlight filtering in through the sides, casting half of her features in sharp, glorious light, Emily might as well have just signed away her breath for eternity.

Lavinia bends, looks her right in her eye from above her. “You’re in love, aren’t you?”

She wants to open her mouth to say something along the lines of – It's her! It’s her! What comes out, however is a garbled groan.

“Emily, buddy,” Austin rollerblades over to her, bends over her from the other side. “You gotta get up before there are complaints of unprofessionalism in the workplace.”

“Oh, because you’re the pinnacle of workplace niceties, I assume,” Lavinia shoots him a contemptuous look. “Only last week, wasn’t it? Those two young ladies in here fighting over who you were going to take to the mixer—”

“Guys,” she manages, before Austin can respond with something equally snarky, or god forbid, lascivious. “Is anyone minding the counter?”

And for exactly thirty seconds, the amount of time it takes Austin to slide over and ask for the orders of the disgruntled customers, and before she stretches out her arm and lets herself get pulled up to her feet, she hears a sweet voice enquire if everything’s quite alright back there. Emily closes her eyes, breathes it in, and wishes, not for the first time that hour, that she had her notepad near her to scribble a snippet of a poem that is now rapidly forming in her head.

*****

It is only sometimes that Sue looks at Emily and thinks that if Emily were to say the word, she would get down on her knees and hand over the entire world to her. Most of the time what she is thinking is goddamn it, Emily.

That’s what is going through her head as they’re kicked out of the lecture of the old man droning on about volcanoes. She can hear Emily giggling from behind her, and though her heart’s beating loud — the result of embarrassment and pure adrenaline — the sound makes her want to turn around and regard the idiot making it. So she does.

They’re alone in the deserted staircase; all the students, she guesses, are probably in that abysmally monotonous lecture. Emily leans against the banister, bent over at the waist from the sheer force of her mirth, and Sue takes it all in — her laugh, her gentle hands clutching at the wooden surface, and those intense, sparkling eyes looking right into hers. The next Goddamn it, Emily isn’t exasperated. It stays right there in her throat, accompanied by other, tender platitudes she’s never been brave enough to let herself say.

You’re beautiful. You make me ache inside.

(At night, Emily would talk to her about pressure, an acute force that demands to be released within her, and unable to help herself, the words — I think I know what a volcano feels like — would bubble up from her lips. And when Emily moves against her, a writhing mass of soft, bundled up wanting, Sue thinks she understands Pompeii a lot better as well; understands being frozen in time, brought to your knees by the sheer majesty of beauty and violence.)

*****

Listen, Emily has never claimed to be an expert on love.

(Austin has, on several occasions. Sauntered into the café, placed his elbow on the counter, and grinned roguishly. “Emily,” he’d started, once. “You know what the”—

“Is it that time of the month again?” Lavinia, who had been mopping up the floor, drawled. “Too much time since your last breakup but not quite enough that you can start going out with another girl and still maintain that image of the soft, sensitive manchild you’ve carefully cultivated. So you’re stuck in that weird limbo of no dates to go on, and subsequently are here to bore us.”

He’d chucked a tissue in her direction, continued smoothly. “As I was saying, do you, my dear Emily know what girls like best?”

“My sunny disposition?” she’d asked.

“No,” he replied flatly. “What girls want is someone who is cool. Indifferent. Somebody who displays absolutely zero interest in them. In fact—”

“That is horseshit,” Lavinia cut in.

Emily faux-gasped, continued leaning the espresso machine.

“Don’t you listen to him, Em. Girls like sweet, sensitive people who express an interest in wanting to get to know them.”

“I am an expert on women.”

“I am a woman!”

Emily half-listened to the sound of their bickering, and wished that she were a cat)

She considers both approaches briefly as she faces the girl, wondering why time hasn’t at least done them the decency of slowing down. It’s only polite, isn’t it, for the universe to cooperate when two eternal lovers meet. Emily has no justification as to why the universe should be so invested in the meeting of her and this woman who she’d decided was her intended, except it just makes sense.

(Intended. The word feels like it bears the weight of a hundred years. Like a woman back in the 19th century was whispering it to another woman she was in love with, as they lay in bed playing with each other’s hands.)

(It fits. She doesn’t care to find out why)

The girl opens her mouth. Emily holds her breath.

“You’ve got foam in your hair.”

The words — “It makes them bounce” — are out of her mouth before she can think. And then she wishes she’d picked up another cup of coffee in her hand so she could drop it on her head again.

Thankfully, the girl laughs. Rests both her elbows on the counter and assesses the menu above Emily’s head. Emily doesn’t mind the reprieve from eye-contact. There’s something about looking right at this.... angel, for lack of a better word, that makes breathing cumbersome. And yet there’s another part of her that wants to raise her arms above her head and bounce like a little child, all “Hey! Look at me! It’s me!”.

(It’s a very strange day)

“What would you recommend?”

“Me?” Emily startles a little. Turns back to the menu, then back to the girl. Blinks. “That depends on your name.”

“How does my coffee order depend on my name?” the girl sounds amused.

Emily shrugs. “Eh. It’s a process. Can’t give away all my secrets.”

There’s prolonged eye contact, again, before the answer comes. “Sue.”

It rings in her head. Sue. Sue. Sue. There’s no prettier word in the English language. Saying it over and over in her head feels like a prayer. She tells Sue to wait a moment, and then turns to make her a caramel freakshow, all the while acutely aware of eyes on her. Her clothes are drenched in coffee, and she’d picked out the most faded of her t-shirts to wear today. God only knows what she looks like from behind.

The drink is her very best effort, though. Topped with the best slices of fresh fruit, and she’s made the swirls on the cream topping extra carefully. “Coffee for,” she pauses, pushes at the glass gently till it’s on Sue’s side, “Sue.”

“Can I ask what’s in this.... concoction?”

“My hear—” Emily knows she’s turning red, and desperately look away. “Um, coffee?”

Sue fumbles in her bag, and she wrestles with the urge to say — “Nevermind, it’s on me!” — which would not be the wisest. Emily hates the idea of taking money from Sue, that too, for something as measly as a coffee. Probably because she knows that if Sue were only to ask once, she would make her coffee every day, unprompted.

(She cannot reiterate enough – It's a very strange day)

When Sue steps away, Emily feels loss. It’s an unusual nudge to her sternum, a tingle in her hands that wants her to call Sue back. Before she has the time to dwell on it too much, Sue does.

“Do I,” she starts, frowning a little “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Yes.

I can’t explain it but we know each other somehow, the same way artists know their muses, and flowers know their bees, and my hands know how to write poems — and maybe a hundred years ago you and I were neighboring trees in the woods, or two seeds in the same tangerine; I’m pretty sure my knowledge of your existence was probably coded in my blood.

“Do you?”

Sue seems to consider that for a while before shaking her head, and then walking over to take a seat by the window.

(And if she catches Emily stealing a glance every five minutes, she’s nice enough to not mention it)

*****

The day of her wedding is the happiest day of her life so far, and yet, the wedding has very little to do with it.

It’s a tiny, foolish fact that this is the first smile she sees on Emily after Ben’s tragic death, and yet, it makes her feel unreasonably pleased with herself. If her life were split into days she could see and touch Emily, and dreary days — the former were made significantly better if Emily smiled in them. Not to be dramatic, but the sun shines better, the skies glow prettier, and the ground is a little easier to run on.

Emily points out somewhere in the middle of their frolicking, for back of a better word, in the woods, that her dress is getting ruined. And then flings a flower onto her face. Goddamn it, Emily, she says, and then is struck dumb by the sound of her loud, exuberant laugh.

(And even quieter still when she holds the magnifying glass over the tiny piece of paper Emily had handed her earlier, the words washing over her like some tidal wave, drowning her in emotions too terrifying to admit. I held her hand the tighter, she reads and she smiles; Still in her Eye, the Violets lie, she reads and punctuates with a deep breath and when she reaches the end, the Sue – Forevermore, she’s aware of an awful keening in her throat, of the sob waiting to make its way out. Emily, Emily, her heart sings, and she is sure it will never shut up again)

She thinks of Emily the whole time, through the vows and the subsequent cheers, as they make their way into the house; thinks of her when Austin holds her tight and tells her that he loves her. A quiet voice, the sound of her guilt crawls up from inside her to tell him that she loves him too. She may be his in name, but her heart isn’t hers to give away anymore.

*****

Seven. That’s how many days she steals glances at Sue in the library before they talk again.

Monday, 9 am: The librarian’s just gotten started with her morning coffee, which means that Emily can sneak her own breakfast past her bleary eyes without being detected. She gets the books that she wants off the shelf, makes her way to her usual chair at the very back of the room and settles in. Her bag gets hooked to her chair by the straps, the tiny diary, her faithful companion, finds a place beside the humongous book, and the coffee sits next to her breakfast burrito. After the entire process is done, she stretches her legs, leans back, looks up and freezes.

Sue is seated on a nearby desk, staring at her.

Emily looks away, on reflex. Her heartrate’s up, and her palms suddenly feel clammy. She takes a deep breath, takes in the floor, and tells herself she’s seeing things. Surely, there’s no way the girl of her dreams also goes to her college and it absolutely isn’t possible that she’s sitting in front of her, in the flesh. She readies herself, looks again.

Sue’s still looking at her, now amused as well.

Well. There go her studies.

Tuesday, 8:50 am: Her plan is foolproof. There is no way she will be caught off guard again. She will be first to the library this time, and she will be prepared when Sue walks in, ready to impress her with her overall charm and chill-ness. There will — not — be a repeat of yesterday when she’d spent the better part of two hours hyperventilating, stealing secret looks or straight up going red every time Sue caught her eye and smiled at her.

The librarian hasn’t even started eating yet. Her head’s resting on the desk, and her eyes are tiny slits, when Emily runs in, makes her way to her own seat. Sue’s seat is empty, thankfully.

(Emily totally does not punch the air in celebration, startling a few other sleepy students)

She stretches out her arms, places them behind her head and waits.

And then jumps about a feet in the air when a hand brushes her shoulder.

There are multiple things happening all at once — the gentle hand resting on her shoulder for a moment, a hand whose warmth she instinctively recognizes as being a familiar one, despite never having felt it before (she knows it’s her. There’s no other option. Nothing else could make the skin at the back of her neck prickle in anticipation), a faint, teasing whisper of “I thought we weren’t allowed to eat in here”, and the realization that her plan has woefully failed.

(Why, then, does she feel so happy about it?)

Sue passes by, turning back once to shoot her a quick grin, and then settles into her usual chair, opening the book already present on the desk in front of her.

Emily’s jaw stays on the floor. The state of her heart stays up in the air.

Wednesday, 9:00 am: Sue opens the note Emily’s just chucked her, reads it, and smirks.

Emily waits. It had been an impetuous decision to scribble “Waffle?” onto a scrap of paper she’d torn out of her notebook, when Sue had looked at her earlier, but it’s alright. These are matters of the heart, and matters of the heart require at least 25 percent an attitude of ‘Ah, fuck it’, another 25 percent of run-of-the-mill stupidity, and 45 percent the ability to laugh at your own shenanigans.

Oh, and about 6 percent bad math.

She catches the crumpled-up note that comes sailing through the air in return and opens it up. “I was taught not to accept food from strangers”, is written in beautiful cursive, along with a smiley face.

(A smiley face. A smiley face!)

Thursday, 9:10 am: She writes — “You know, I am named after one of the best American poets, and your name coincides with the name of her ultimate love and muse. Some would say we’ve known each other a long time” — and slides it over to Sue, heart in her throat.

Twenty seconds later, the sound of Sue’s clear laughter rings out in the otherwise quiet place, and Emily is so enchanted she nearly falls off her chair.

(She hands off half of the breakfast burrito to Sue when she passes by to grab another book, and Sue’s grateful smile just about makes her day)

Friday, 9:00 am: The book she usually grabs to pore over is already sitting on the desk in front of her usual chair. After Emily’s done waving hi to Sue, and has settled down, she notices the tiny flap of paper poking out of the first page. Tucked in the corner is a tiny note.

“As an English major, this is your game, isn’t it? Using words to impress people? :P”

It doesn’t take her long to compose a reply.

“First of all, how dare you? Second, is it working?”

Sue covers her face with her hands when she opens it. Emily counts it as a win.

Saturday, 8:50 am: The poor boy who has been sitting in the next row all week finally loses it after they’ve exchanged their fifteenth et of notes for the day.

“Can you people, like, just text like the rest of us, for fuck’s sake?”

When the rest of the people surrounding them nod in agreement, Emily sinks into her chair, catches Sue’s equally embarrassed gaze from across the room, and resists the urge to laugh like an idiot.

Sunday, 10 am: The morning’s been hell.

Austin had been panicking about some test he had on Monday, and so she’d come in to help out at the café, early morning. Between quizzing him on his flashcards and making sure every customer had a full cup in front of them, Emily completely lost track of time until Lavinia dragged her apron off her.

“What?” she’d asked, bewildered.

The clock was pointed out to her.

(No, she does not leave an outline of her body behind when she dashes out of the café. There is, however, a mad moment when she’s pretty sure her legs are scrambling with her body still at rest. It is pretty comical nonetheless)

From the entrance she sees a couple of things on her desk, and is a little miffed. Clearly, somebody else has claimed this prime spot with a vantage point from where she could stare at the most interesting woman in the world all day. And yet, she approaches it, because the chair is empty.

The book catches her eye first. It’s a copy of Hope is the thing with feathers by her namesake, and it’s got a note with a familiar handwriting peeking out of the top. She reads, delighted, a haiku about fruit and tenderness that’s been scribbled on it. And then she gets to what’s lying next to the book — what seems to be a sandwich, wrapped carefully in foil. She touches it. It’s cold, as though it’s been waiting there a while.

The smile on her face is definitely a permanent fixture now, she decides, as she walks over to where Sue is sitting and pretending to not look over. Her heart’s tripping over with delight, with gratitude with something tender that she’s absolutely sure she hasn’t felt before. Hope is the thing with feathers, indeed and it is perched in her soul. She pulls out the chair next to hers, and sits down.

“Thank you,” she says, quietly, and swears to god she can hear the entire table go Fucking finally — before Sue shoots her a small smile.

*****

“Only you would show up at a party looking like a raccoon,” she tells Emily, exasperated.

(And enamored. And besotted. Emily makes an adorable raccoon)

“I’m not here for the party — I’m here for you,” Emily shoots back, defiant. “As long as I can still see, I wanna look at you.”

And oh, there it is. There’s the Emily she knows, saying words that slide into her chest as easily as their hands go together. Words are Emily’s deadliest weapons, and she wields them to inflict sheer havoc.

Isn’t that just it, though? Emily has no idea. No idea what it does to her to have her this close — with their foreheads pressed to each other’s, their noses a whisper away, with Emily surrounding her, taking every one of her senses and carving her name on them. Sue feels a hand on her hair, then on her cheek, and knows she’s this close to losing any bit of self-control she might have had.

She steps away, composes herself, and thinks, Shakespeare was right. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

*****

“You might as well have ditched us,” Lavinia grumps.

“What?” Emily blinks, momentarily distracted from whatever text she was in the middle of shooting off to Sue. “Oh.”

“Not cool, dude,” Austin chimes in from the other side. They’re smushed into the couch together, planted in front of the screen where some 80s movie is on. It’s a weekend, which means movie nights filled with chicken wings and some dreadful drink that Austin’s invented that he calls the Faustinator, because.... reasons, apparently. And Emily’s just now realizing that she has no idea what the movie even is because she’s spent most of her time texting Sue. “You’re texting your sweetheart lameass cringy shit.”

“How do you know what I’m texti— Austin, stop reading over my shoulder!”

(She conveniently ignores the sweetheart thing. It’s easier than the alternative, which would be to dwell too much on the possibility of Sue being her sweetheart, and Emily being Sue’s and oh — she can feel herself smiling again.)

“Believe me, it isn’t easy on me,” he snarks. “Two months of talking our heads off about Sue, Sue, Sue and free drinks for Sue, Sue, Sue and pining over—”

“It has not been that long!”

“Lavinia?” he asks.

“Two months, two weeks and four days,” Lavinia tells her, flatly. “That’s how long we’ve had to hear about how you know her and that you’re convinced she is the love of your life.”

“I do.... know her,” she trails off, uncertain. It’s one matter to think it and feel it, like she’s felt the absurd familiarity in her bones every time she hears Sue’s voice, or Sue touches her skin, and sets it on fire. Another matter entirely to set about explaining it. Plus, other, unrelated things, like how reading Emily Dickinson’s poems feel like a friendly little nudge someone’s giving her, an inside joke, or why sometimes she feels so, so much that she would burst if she didn’t write that very moment.

“She walks you to class most days from the library.”

“And she’s been coming to the café every other day, and listening to you rant about random things,” Austin chimes in.

“Didn’t she write Emily a couple of poems as well?”

“Hey, that’s,” she starts, pauses, smiles. “Yeah. I, uh, told her nobody had ever written me anything before, and she — she’s really sweet.”

“Honey,” Lavinia says, gently, “the woman’s in love with you.”

“Oh-kay!” Emily jumps up from the couch and announces her intention to get more popcorn. And the pokes her head out from around the corner, and asks, in the tiniest voice.

“Really?”

Two chips come flying in her direction, and then they can’t stop laughing.

*****

There’s a kind of truth in the life she lives when she’s alone; no one to defer to, no one to explain to why she doesn’t want children or why, even after a couple of months of a blissful wedlock with Amherst’s most eligible ex-bachelor, the smile slides off her face as easily as the fruit punch in her parties off the plates. And then there’s the second kind that has to be dragged out of her — with heaving breath and shaking hands and salt dripped out of her eyes. Honesty that scalds and tears up her inside as it makes its way out of her.

(It’s a particular bit of irony in the fact that Emily is both the cause, and the only one who ever gets to witness the fallout, of the second one)

“Emily, I love you.” she says, like Emily’s put her arms down her throat and is ripping the words out of her. “I love you, and, and I felt you in the library — because you’re always with me.”

There’s a moment of complete, utter silence, when she stares at Emily and Emily stares back at her and the space between them is filled with the distance of lies and fury — and then they crash together. It’s an impossible push and pull, and Sue feels, for the first time in weeks, this complete surrender, abandon of all inhibition. Love tastes like Emily, and it feels like drowning and sounds like the tiny noise Emily makes when they part, like she can’t stand to be away even a second longer. All of what she knows about love is Emily.

If Sue could write, this is what she’d put down on paper: the feel of Emily’s neck beneath her hand, the way she melts when Sue wraps an arm around her. This yearning to be closer, the hunger to consume and the reluctance towards stopping. She wants, so badly to do Emily the same honor of immortalizing her in the form of words — she deserves it. The world deserves to know how she felt about this.... miracle, this angel in her arms. More than anything else, Emily deserves to know how Sue feels about her.

She turns to her side, kisses Emily’s hand once, twice. “I will never let go of you again.”

*****

Life is an endless sea of pain.

“Emily, she’s just a girl,” Austin tells her, then immediately flinches as Lavinia whacks him on the head.

Emily wipes away the moisture from her face with the sleeve of her favorite oversized hoodie, sniffles, and sticks her spoon in the tub of ice-cream again.

“Not to pry,” Lavinia starts, hesitantly, “but we still have no idea what happened. You came running into my room a week ago and haven’t stopped crying since. I guess — I guess we just want to know what’s up.”

Emily sighs. “It’s Sue.”

Austin blinks at her. “Yeah I — I mean, we know that.”

She thinks back to Sunday morning when she’d come upon her favorite restaurant while out on a run. The sight of Sue, sitting there with some.... dude. It was a cozy booth, and the way the guy seemed to be smiling in Sue’s direction couldn’t be construed as anything but romantic.

“A date?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re telling us this is because you thought Sue was on a date?”

What wasn’t clicking? “Sue was on a date. There were flowers on the table and everything.”

“And that’s why you haven’t been returning her calls or texts? And have expressly forbidden us to tell her where you are when she comes into the café, like, everyday?”

Emily shifts. “Yes?”

Lavinia whacks her on the head.

“Ow,” Emily groans. “What’s with all the violence?”

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. Now,” she took a deep breath, and Emily knew instinctively a huge lecture was incoming, “let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Is there any point in refus—”

“No. So, you like this girl, and it seems like she likes you too. But you refuse to do anything about it, like, you know, maybe admitting it to her. Then, you come upon her having lunch with some random dude and you assume it’s a date, and then freak out about it and cut her off.”

“But I’m pretty sure it was a date!”

“Fine! Okay! It was a date! So what? You expect her to hang around waiting for you to get your shit together, what, forever? And what if she doesn’t like you, god, Emily! I—”

“Okay, okay, wait!” she cuts in, holds up a hand to gather her thoughts. “I — I get what you’re saying, okay? I really do.”

“I know I have no right to be angry. She doesn’t owe me anything — I just. I dunno. I thought we had something. But even if that wasn’t the case,” she scrambles to add, “I guess I’m just taking pre-emptive action. To not get hurt. I can’t stick around and watch her fall in love with someone else, okay? I just. I can’t.”

Austin pats her on the back, and she sinks into his arm. This, of all things, is true. There are a multitude of things in life she has had to bear, and that she has borne, but this — watching Sue slowly fall in love with someone else, would be unbearable.

She has another spoonful of ice cream. “I’m being an asshole, aren’t I?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Lavinia agrees. “But give yourself a break — you’re in love. It turns everyone a little bonkers.”

“It’s fucked.”

“No!” Austin and Lavinia tell her, together, before Lavinia continues, “Listen, I think you should talk to Sue.”

“Pretty sure she hates me now.”

“If she does, then go and face it. Honestly, though, I think you owe it to her, and also to yourself, to explain your side of things.”

“I’d literally rather die.”

“Then go do your dying in the fucking library. It’s almost ten, anyways.”

*****

She can still feel Emily’s teeth on her collarbone, can still wrap an arm around herself and trace the marks Emily’s fingers have left on her, when Sue announces that she’s trying to write a poem.

Emily throws off the sheets from her body, and turns so their heads are close. Sue’s sitting at the end of the bed, wrapped in sheets herself, eyes closed. She opens them when Emily’s nose nudges against her cheek.

“You are?” she asks, hand already playing with Sue’s hair, and Sue nods. “What’s it about?”

Sue cannot stop herself rolling her eyes. “Guess.”

“Is it,” Emily asks, teasingly, “about me?”

“Maybe.”

There’s a delighted gasp from her paramour, and she can feel a small kiss pressed to her temple. “I want to read it.”

“Only when it’s done.”

“And when will it be done?”

She turns to look right at Emily now. “I’m not sure it ever will.”

When Emily kisses her — every time Emily kisses her, Sue adds a line to the poem in her head. She’s running out of words to express joy, passion and beauty, at this point.

“The romance of it all,” Emily remarks, pretending to swoon. “This way I will live on through your words as well, after I die.”

Sue frowns, feels her lips automatically pull down at the corners. “No talking about death.”

“But we will die, darling,” Emily explains, patiently. “I can only hope that I die first.”

“How — how dare you?” she asks, indignant. “I’m going to try my very best to be the one to go.”

(That one spurs an argument that goes on four rounds before either of the participants admit defeat)

“How about,” Emily starts, ponderously. “Whoever dies first comes back around the next time and finds the other?”

Sue can’t stop the smile. The thought is so whimsical, it drives their previous non-argument right out of her head.

“You think we’ll come back someday, years after our deaths?”

“Try and stop me,” Emily declares, fondly. “Susan Gilbert, I will always — always find you.”

Sue closes her eyes, feels Emily’s lips ghost over her cheek and tries to imagine the thought of the two of them, years from now, sitting side by side, hand in hand. Breathes deeply to stop the sudden onslaught of tears the image evokes.

“My foolish sweetheart,” she says, after she’s composed herself. “I love you.”

This is what she’ll put in words — Emily next to her, head tilted downwards, turned towards her. In about a minute, she’ll start complaining of the blood rushing to her brain, and Sue, exasperated, will tell her to sit straight. She’ll write about the light that falls on the edge of Emily’s nose, the one crooked tooth all the way in the corner, the tiny scar on her brow. About the way their hands lock into each other’s, how there’s a space on her neck made perfectly in the mould of Emily’s head — two girls, sitting next to each other, together into an eternity, and beyond.

*****

The first time Emily sees Sue after a week-long absence, she’s just run into the library and crashed into a nearby bench, thus bringing down a student, two books, and herself. She gets up almost immediately, sees Sue staring at the sight of her, wide-eyed, and thinks — Oh. Found you.

There’s an empty seat next to Sue, and on the desk lies an apple. Emily approaches her, and touches the back of her shoulder lightly.

“Can I sit here?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” Sue answers, not looking at her. “Can you?”

Emily has to bite at her lip to keep in the wild laughter that threatens to erupt. It’s not just the quip, either. It’s Sue — seeing her after these many days of zero contact feels like a drug, and she breathes it in, greedily. She pulls the chair out, and sits down on it.

“So,” she starts, then trails off.

“So,” Sue mimics, not unkindly.

“It may have been brought to my attention that I’ve been a bit of an idiot.”

“Only a bit?” Sue raises an eyebrow, leans back where she’s sitting.

Well. “More than a bit,” she amends. “I’ve been an idiot. A dumbass. An utter fool. A rake. A rogue of the highest order.”

Sue tells her she agrees. Then — “You wanna tell me why?”

“I saw you and, um, some guy. On your date that day over at the Plantain Leaf?”

Sue stares. For the longest time. “You ghosted me for a week because you saw me out to lunch with a guy? Emily that is so—”

“I know!” she says, then gets shushed by the people sitting around them. She consciously lowers her voice when she speaks next. “I know, Sue. I was being an asshole, I just — felt complicated about.... things.”

“Things?”

“Yeah. Like — feelings. And stuff.”

She sees Sue stifle a smile, and feels a little bit of life come back into her hands.

“What about your feelings?”

“Well,” Emily says, pauses, then comes out with a masterpiece of an explanation, “I have them.”

Then covers her face with her hands, because why? It hasn’t even been ten minutes, and she’s already started messing things up.

“I mean — I have feelings. For you.”

She chances a look up at Sue, after a minute of that incredibly earth-shattering revelation, and stays held in place by the intensity of her gaze. Sue’s eyes are soft, large, and Emily wants to do something stupid, like bury her face in her hands again.

“You do?” Sue asks her, in the tiniest voice possible. Like she can’t believe it. Like Emily has done an awful job of wearing her whole heart out on her sleeve the past couple of months.

“Yeah,” she replies, and finds her voice is equally tiny. “Good ones.” The kind that have me convinced we knew each other a couple decades ago, that I have heard your voice in my dreams all my life, that I’ve been waiting for you for turn a corner and walk into my life this whole while. And if not this time, I’ll wait a couple decades more for you to love me back. “And it’s okay if you’re dating that guy, I just — I thought you should know. That’s all.”

Sue lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m not dating Sam.”

Oh.

So turns out Emily had been holding her breath.

Ants are crawling all over her body. To combat them, Emily picks up the object nearest to her, which happens to be the apple.

“Is that for me?”

Sue nods. “You owe me the six sandwiches I got you this entire week,” she adds, teasingly.

Elation fills Emily until she imagines she’s probably floating a few inches above the ground, buoyed by this tiny admission of caring on Sue’s part. Whoever had said all those things about love had been right. It really was.... something different altogether.

“You’re telling me you sat here and read Emily Dickinson all week, waiting for a girl to show up?”

A light blush lights up Sue, and she leans forward a little bit. “Not just a girl,” she tells her, seriously. “I waited for Emily, who was named after this poet whose work I’ve really come to like. Emily, who I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with.”

Oh dear God.

They’re closer together now, their heads almost touching; Emily imagines them in a world of their own, separate from the rest of this library. She pretends to scoff.

“What? You don’t think a lot of Emily?”

“I think I can write better,” she declares.

“You think you can—” Sue starts, then lets out a laugh. “Emily, shut up.”

And then they’re suddenly kissing, and each and every cell in Emily gathers somewhere near her chest to rejoice together, every beat of her heart falls and arranges in the shape of a song, and time just kind of. Slows down. Pauses. Stops.

Emily thinks she knows what a volcano feels like, now. When she’ll go home, later, she’ll sit at her writing desk, pen down a poem about lovers and hands and two women sitting with their heads close together; maybe put in a fruit or two. And tiny pieces will come together in her head, just like the ones in her chest that crumble every time Sue looks at her.

But right now, she closes her eyes, feels poetry on her lips, and it is good enough.

#dickinson #emily dickinson #emisue #fanfiction #dickinson fanfic #i'm done! finished it!#now - do i feel weird about writing about two real people wo existed albeit a long time ago? yes #but i'm justifying it in my head somehow because the show is just so whack #either way - here's 6k words of dickinson brainrot that i had promised myself i would finish before my birthday #and i did it with a few days to spare #so yeah #happy reading?????#also - i have a dickinson playlist that i listened to while writing this #so if youre somehow reading the tags and wanna check that out lemme know :)

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mintaka14 · 3 years

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See the Light

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter Three – Living in a Blur

“No Rose or Juleka today?” Marinette asked as she stepped down into the galley of the Liberty with that effortless grace that Luka was coming to associate with the woman she’d become. She reached up to tuck back a lock of hair that had escaped from the braid over her shoulder, and Luka moved around the tiny kitchen, pulling out mugs, while the kettle whistled loudly in the background.

“No, they had a few things to organise today for the wedding. They said to say hi, though.” He didn’t mention the other things that Rose had had to say, or the broad, suggestive beams she given him before she dragged Juleka away on whatever mission she’d manufactured.

He handed Marinette the tea that he’d just made and shifted towards the couch in the living room, cradling his own coffee. Marinette sank into the armchair across from him. She blew on the mug and closed her eyes to inhale the steam.

“I still can’t quite believe that Juleka and Rose are getting married. It feels like only yesterday we were all in collège.” Marinette smiled, and sighed.

“They’re incredibly lucky to be getting MDC original wedding dresses. That’s one hell of a wedding present you’re giving them.”

“Juleka and Rose are covering the materials I’m just volunteering my time and a bit of sewing.”

Luka’s eyebrow rose sceptically. “One artist to another, I know it’s not ‘just’ anything, Marinette. Your time and skill is a very generous gift, and don’t forget, I’ve seen what you’re putting together for them. Jules and Rose can’t have been straightforward to design for.”

Marinette laughed. “But they’re giving me the chance to have fun,” she insisted. “I spend all day every day dealing with clients with no individuality or imagination, trying to convince them to trust me, so it’s a relief to get a chance to do something interesting for a change, with friends who are happy to indulge me.”

Luka leaned back, all plans to rehearse forgotten, as he watched Marinette talk about the inspiration behind the wedding dresses and the creative possibilities in dressing certain clients, her face lighting up and her hands gesturing animatedly as she grew more impassioned about her theories of clothing as a reflection of self. He followed the movement of her hands and lost himself in the endless blue of her eyes.

“I really need to ask Juleka if she’d be willing to model for me sometime. She’s always so compelling in whatever she wears, and so much fun to design for,” she said eventually. He found her eyeing him speculatively. “I’d love to have the chance to dress you one day.”

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” he said without thinking.

There was a heartbeat, then Marinette burst out laughing.

“Smooth line, Couffaine. Does that work on all the girls?”

“I wouldn’t know.” He decided to lean into it, and grinned at her. “I’ve only ever tried it on you. Is it working?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “How are you still single?” she asked.

“You’re a hard act to follow,” he said, and Marinette levelled a look at him.

“Luka, I was a fourteen year old clumsy mess who kept on flaking out on our dates. You can’t tell me I’m the gold standard of your relationships.”

Put like that, it was ridiculous, but it was true nonetheless. He’d had relationships, and they were sincere in the moment, but he’d drifted out of them as easily as he’d drifted into them, and they’d left him with little more than fond memories. None of them had left a mark like Marinette had. Over the years, he’d put it down to rose-coloured nostalgia, but then she’d walked into his life again, more Marinette than ever, and he’d fallen harder and faster than he had before.

He looked down at the mug of coffee in his hands.

“How about you? Anyone special in your life these days?” he asked the coffee with casual disinterest. She gave a soft snort.

“Hardly. It’s not like anything’s changed since we were going out.” She seemed to catch herself, and froze as Luka’s head came up to stare at her. “I just… mean, who’s got time for a relationship, right? Life’s too busy.”

“Not since we were going out?” Luka echoed her, frowning. “Marinette, you were fourteen. You haven’t dated anyone since then?”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “I dated. It just never lasts long. It’s not that big a deal. And besides,” she muttered, “I’ve learned my lesson, the universe doesn’t want me to have a relationship.”

She put her mug abruptly on the table and stood.

“Weren’t we supposed to be practising?”

Luka got to his feet and reached for his guitar. Clearly this was a line of conversation that Marinette did not want to go down with him, and he dropped the subject to run through the song with her a few times, correcting her gently when her voice faltered.

He had to wonder, though, what the hell was wrong with the men in Marinette’s life that had left her love life such a sore subject?

Luka stopped again to make a suggestion about phrasing and breath control.

“All that time, never even knowing just how blind I’ve been,” Marinette tried again, sounding more confident with the slightly awkward vocal skips this time, and Luka gave her a smile.

“See?” he told her. “Fashion designer to the stars, artist, and now singer. You can add that to your résumé.”

He’d finally coaxed a laugh out of her, and then Marinette’s handbag buzzed. Luka watched the smile drop off her face. Her eyes flicked to the door. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. I have… a thing…”

She was gone before he could say anything further. For a moment, Luka sat there with his guitar silent in his lap, frowning thoughtfully. Apparently she was right – not much had changed in the ten years since they’d been kids together. There were still the abrupt excuses, the silences, the sudden disappearances.

Luka plucked out Now she’s here, shining in the starlight, and he considered the empty space where she’d been. He was coming to suspect that whatever had been going on when they were kids, whatever she’d been keeping to herself when she broke it off with him, it was something bigger than he’d imagined.

At that moment, Luka’s own phone chimed with an akuma alert, and the timing of it was jarring. His hand dropped, as it always did, to touch his empty wrist. He looked down at it, his frown growing troubled as a new thought took hold.

He found himself thinking back over the timing of some of those disappearances, and odd excuses, and the times she’d had just a little more knowledge of Ladybug's movements than any random civilian ought to, but it had all sounded so plausible at the time. Seen through this new lens, those moments took on a new significance the more he turned them over in his mind.

Black pigtails, unmistakeable blue eyes. The same damn plain black earrings that Marinette, the consummate fashion designer, was still wearing ten years later.

How had he never put it together before?

Luka was still sitting there, his hands resting on his guitar and his gaze fixed on nothing, when Juleka and Rose came home.

“Where’s Marinette?” Rose asked in obvious disappointment when she took in the quiet room.

“She had to leave,” Luka replied absently.

“Luka! You just let her leave?”

Luka could see the tiny frown that he was feeling reflected in his sister’s face, although he wasn’t sure what had prompted it in Juleka’s case.

“I’m not going to badger her into staying if she needs to go, Rose,” he said mildly.

Rose threw up her hands. “And how is she supposed to know you want her to stay if you don’t tell her? I don’t get why you’re both fighting this so hard. She’s single, you’re single, but both of you are too chicken to make the first move.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Juleka interjected, shooting a dark look at her brother. “Because I remember weeks and weeks of Taylor fucking Swift, and I do not want to go through that again.”

“That was ten years ago! You cannot tell me that there’s not something there!” Rose whirled and stabbed a finger at Luka. “You can’t argue with the Sparkly Sense.”

Luka was only half paying attention to the argument, and responded vaguely, “Marinette has too much going on in her life right now to worry about a relationship with anyone.” Like saving the city, over and over and over again, holy shit, she was Ladybug.

Once seen, it was hard to understand how he could have missed it, and his mind briefly derailed to speculate that it must be some sort of kwami-induced magic that obscured her identity. Given how adamant Ladybug had been back in the day that the secret of the miraculous holders’ identities had to be preserved, and how hard she had worked since then to maintain that secrecy, Luka had a bad feeling about how things would go if he told her that he knew.

He was about to become another crack in her armour, another worry dumped on her already overloaded shoulders. Although, what did he really know, when all was said and done? He had his suspicions, nothing more.

“Hopeless, the both of you,” Rose complained, and glared at Juleka. “Don’t you want your brother to live happily ever after?”

“I don’t want to have to live through weeks of I Almost Do again, because my stupid brother hasn’t got the sense he was born with, and you’re just encouraging him.”

Rose stomped away, muttering things under her breath, but Juleka stayed silent after that. His guitar still in his hand, Luka got to his feet and headed for his bedroom before Rose could come back and start again. He had too much else on his mind to deal with Rose’s matchmaking.

Every time he thought Marinette couldn’t get any more extraordinary, she surprised him all over again, but the music he played softly in the solitude of his room that night ached with all the burdens he’d seen in her eyes.

Some time later, he heard a soft knock on his door and it opened quietly. When he looked up, Juleka was leaning there, her hand on the door handle and a look of equal parts irritation and uneasiness on her face.

“Luka –“

“I’m fine,” he cut her off before she could say what he knew she was going to say. “I know what I’m doing, and it’s all good.”

Juleka’s mouth pinched. “Do you, though? Because from where I’m standing, we’re heading for Taylor territory again.”

Luka didn’t answer, his focus on his hands and the fragments of melody that he’d come to think of as Marinette’s song. Eventually he heard a sigh, and Juleka said, “I love you, you dumbass.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

The door shut behind her, and he was left alone with his thoughts and Marinette’s secrets.

~~~~~

“You’re playing with fire,” warned the voice of responsibility in Marinette’s handbag, and Marinette sighed. She shifted the bulky dress bags in her hands so that she could see the little round face peering up at her.

“It’s just a dress fitting, Tikki. Can’t I even have friends anymore?”

“It’s Luka,” the tiny kwami said primly. “Things never stay just friends with Luka, and I saw the way you’ve been looking at him. Remember what happened the last time you told someone?”

“That was ten years ago, and Luka is not Alya. Don’t you think things have changed a bit since then?”

“It never ends well,” Tikki insisted, and Marinette felt the weight of Ladybug closing in on her all over again. She looked up at the Liberty as she drew closer, and had never felt less free in her life.

“Don’t worry, Luka’s not even going to be there,” she said wearily. “Juleka said he’s got something tonight, so it’ll just be her and Rose there. And anyway, there’s no chance he’d ever be interested in me like that again.” Because if there was a chance, then Marinette would have to walk away now before she could do any more damage, and she’d never get to see Luka again. She couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t.

“Luka was a wonderful holder for Sass,” Tikki conceded, “but he’s always been a little too perceptive for comfort. If he were to find out…”

“We’re here,” Marinette said, cutting off the rest of Tikki’s dire predictions. The kwami vanished into the depths of her handbag, and Marinette maneouvred the dress bags carefully as she climbed the gangplank onto the boat and called a greeting as she reached the empty deck.

In spite of her mood after Tikki’s lecture, she felt a tiny smile curl her lips as Rose’s answering shriek echoed up from below deck, and she followed the sound down into the depths of the boat.

“Marinette!” Rose scolded reproachfully as Marinette descended carefully into the galley with the two dress bags in her hand and moved through into the living room. “You didn’t even say goodbye last time! We got back and you were just gone.”

Marinette held the dresses clear as Rose engulfed her in a whirlwind hug, and turned to meet Juleka’s more sedate greeting. The dark-haired girl gave her a nod and a quirk of a smile that turned to a frown when Rose gave her girlfriend a smug look.

Rose turned towards the bedrooms, and bellowed, “Luka! Look who’s here!”

“What’s up?” she heard Luka’s voice, and felt her heart stutter. Oh, that wasn’t good. Luka swung around the edge of the door, leaning against the frame behind his sister as he directed a slow, sweet smile at Marinette.

“Hey, you,” he said, and Marinette couldn’t help but smile back at him. Juleka rolled her eyes and slugged her brother in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Juleka!” Rose scolded.

“Weren’t you going out? Rose said you had a thing tonight,” Juleka said, and Luka frowned at her.

“Not for another hour. The band we were going to check out isn’t on til later.”

“Did I say eight?” Rose said innocently to the ceiling. “I meant nine. Oops.”

Marinette found herself standing there awkwardly holding the dress bags, her eyes shifting between the three of them.

“You don’t want to keep the guys waiting if you said you’d be there,” Juleka pushed.

“I only said I might,” Luka said, shooting his sister an annoyed look.

“Besides, he can catch them another time,” Rose insisted, staring at her girlfriend with a pointed message that Juleka ignored for once. “They won’t mind, and Marinette’s here now.”

Luka elbowed Juleka aside none too gently and came into the room. “I’m getting a coffee. Did you want anything, Mari?”

“I’d like a coffee,” Juleka said in a saccharine voice, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“I didn’t ask you, monster child.”

“You don’t have to stay on my account,” Marinette told Luka. “I’m only here to do the final dress fitting.”

“Oh no!” Rose protested. “You have to stay for dinner. It’s the least we can do after everything you’ve done with the wedding dresses.”

“You haven’t even seen the finished thing yet,” Marinette pointed out, and felt a flush rising at the smile that Luka was giving her.

“We don’t need to see them to know they’re going to be incredible,” he said. “And it wasn’t important. I was only half thinking of going out anyway.”

The noise Juleka made was not polite, and Luka made a rude gesture back without looking at his sister.

“Well,” said Rose brightly. “How about we leave them to it? They’re going to be doing this for a while.”

In Juleka’s bedroom, Marinette didn’t have to ask Rose if she was happy with her wedding dress once she’d settled the clouds of soft pink organza around her and done up the miles of tiny buttons. Rose was making a noise like a tea kettle on the boil that rose to a squeal of happiness as she spun around in front of Juleka’s bedroom mirror. Handbeaded organza flowers spilled down in glittering trails across the skirts as she turned, and Rose raised a hand to touch the flowers that clustered all over her bodice.

“It’s perfect!” she breathed. She made a move as if she was going to throw her arms around Marinette, but Marinette fended her off with a laugh.

“Hug me when we get you out of the dress,” she smiled. “How does it feel? Nothing slipping, or too tight?”

“It’s perfect,” Rose repeated, her voice turning a little wobbly with emotion.

When Marinette finally got Rose to stop twirling around for long enough to take the gown off again, they headed back to the living room to find the Couffaine siblings glaring at each other. Luka looked away as they came in, his mouth pressed in a tight line, and Juleka spun on her heel, stalking towards the bedroom without a word, leaving Marinette to follow.

She carefully removed Juleka’s wedding dress from its hanger while her friend stripped down to her underwear and slipped her formal shoes on, and then Marinette started easing Juleka into the gown.

“Mari, what’s really going on with you and Luka?” Juleka asked, her voice a little muffled by the softly glittering black fabric over her head. Marinette slid the dress down and settled it into place. “I love you, but he’s my brother and I’m worried about him.”

“We’re just friends,” Marinette said, and suppressed a flinch at the words. Juleka rolled her eyes.

“You were never just friends even when you were just friends. And the last time I thought you were just friends it turned out you’d been dating my idiot brother. So excuse me if I’m not buying it.”

Marinette swallowed at that, stung but unable to argue the point.

“Believe me, Juleka, I’m well aware of how badly I fucked up back then, and the last thing I want to do is hurt Luka like that again,” she said, insistent in the face of Juleka’s scepticism.

“You won’t mean to, but Luka gets stupid when you’re involved.”

“That was ten years ago,” Marinette protested.

“That was two minutes ago.”

Juleka’s exasperated words provoked a cold wash of dismay. Juleka had to be mistaken. Luka was long over her, he had to be. Somewhere deep down, though, Marinette felt a tiny fireworks explosion of something that she didn’t dare acknowledge.

“The moment you turn up, he drops everything without a second thought,” Juleka muttered as Marinette eased the hidden zip up. Marinette stepped back, and Juleka turned to face the mirror.

“Wow. Damn, Marinette,” she breathed. She angled herself a little, her eyes still on her reflection in the mirror. “I take it all back. You’re welcome to wreck my dumbass brother, as long as I get to keep this dress.”

Marinette gave a tightlipped little smile, and went back to regarding the gown with a critical eye. There really didn’t seem to be much that needed adjusting. She repositioned the crystal chipped dragon brooch that coiled over Juleka’s hip, where it caught up the fall of the fabric, but it all seemed to be working.

She extracted Juleka from the gown again, and back in the living room Rose was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through something on her phone. Luka had his guitar in his hands again, strumming something with his coffee forgotten on the table beside him. He looked up as Marinette and Juleka came in.

“How’s the dress?” he asked.

“It’s stunning,” Juleka said, and heaved a put-upon sigh. “I can’t stop you from being stupid, but at least you have good taste.”

He gave her a suspicious look, his eyes shifting to Marinette when there was no further explanation forthcoming. “What was that all about?”

Marinette shrugged awkwardly, but fortunately he didn’t press her on it.

“So are we doing Thai or that new Indian place tonight? There’s nothing on the Akuma alert,” Rose said from the couch, “but there is a new theory about who Ladybug is on the conspiracy forums.”

“Aliens, or the Mayor’s secret revenge love child this time?” Juleka asked, dropping onto the couch beside her.

“I miss the Ladyblog,” Rose said, stretching her arms over her head. “Remember that time Alya thought that Chloe was Ladybug?”

Marinette remembered.

On the couch, Juleka laughed. “How is Alya,” she asked, and tilted her head to throw a look at Marinette. “Have you seen her lately?”

Alya again. The universe seemed determined to beat her over the head with her failures. She opened her eyes to find them all watching her, and she gave a strained and unconvincing smile.

“Not recently. I think she’s working in a travel agency now. It’s been a few years, though.”

Nearly six years, to be exact, since she’d last bumped into Alya.

“Jules,” Luka said casually, “how about you and Ro go pick up dinner? Mari and I really should work on the song for the wedding a bit more.”

It was a transparent excuse to shift the subject and give her a bit of space, and she was grateful for it, even if Rose did give Luka a very unsubtle wink that he pretended to not see. Rose and Juleka didn’t seem to have noticed anything odd, but Luka threw her a quick glance as he laughed at something Rose said, and reached out to toss his wallet at Juleka, who pulled a few euros from it and threw it back. Marinette managed to respond lightly enough to a question about her preferences, and by the time it was just her and Luka she’d pulled herself together again.

“I take it that things aren’t good with Alya,” he said gently.

She shrugged, and the smile she gave him was a little unsteady. “Our friendship didn’t end well. We don’t talk to each other anymore.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was as close as she could get without giving away too much. There was no way she could explain how her former best friend had looked straight through her as if she was a stranger the last time they’d run into each other, or the sickening wash of guilt, remorse, and self-loathing she still felt over the reason behind it, even after all these years.

“It was a long time ago,” she said as easily as she could manage, but Luka had always been able to read her better than that. His hand closed over hers briefly, reassuring and strong, and for a moment she let herself draw on his warmth.

“It still leaves a mark, though, doesn’t it?” he said.

She couldn’t help wondering a little bitterly how different things might have been if she’d told Luka everything, instead of Alya, back when she was fourteen. Would it have been Luka looking at her with that terrible emptiness?

Marinette broke eye contact and pulled her hand away to wrap it around her now-cold mug. She was aware that Luka was regarding her as if he saw a lot more than she was letting on, but he didn’t push for more. Instead, he got to his feet.

“I need another coffee,” he said, and gave her a questioning look. “Tea for you?”

She took the distraction, and followed him into the galley.

Luka kept to safe subjects after that, telling her about the group of students he’d been working with after school, and a gig that had gone disastrously wrong, until she couldn’t help but giggle when he described the drummer slowly sliding off his stool and passing out face down on his snare drum.

“It actually improved the quality of his playing,” Luka said wryly.

And he laughed when she countered with an account of Chloe Bourgeois commisioning her to design and make an outfit last season.

“I don’t think she’d even considered that MDC might stand for Marinette Dupain-Cheng until she turned up for the fitting,” Marinette grinned. “You should have seen the look on her face, though.”

“Ridiculous!” Luka scoffed in a passable immitation of the Mayor’s daughter, and waved his hand in the air as Marinette giggled at him. “Utterly ridiculous!”

“And of course, nothing was good enough. She couldn’t believe I was expecting her to pay full price for such shoddy workmanship. I should be paying her to wear my rags.”

“Tell me you told her where to shove it,” Luka said, and folded his arms on the benchtop, leaning forward in anticipation. Marinette’s smile grew broader.

“Oh, better than that. I told her if it wasn’t to her satisfaction she was welcome to leave the dress and I’d cancel her contract, and I’d even waive the cancellation fee because we’d known each other such a long time. I was very helpful. I told her I was sure I could find someone willing to buy it instead, and Clara Nightingale had already seen it and asked if it was for sale. Which was true,” she added as an afterthought.

“And?”

Marinette tilted her chin, her smile turning smug. “She took the dress, of course. And ordered another one under a fake name a month later.”

“Seriously?”

“B. Queen, to be delivered to the Grand Paris Hotel. With her exact measurements. Seriously.”

Luka tipped his head back and laughed hard, and Marinette lost herself in the sound. God, he was a beautiful man.

Next to the couch in the living room, her handbag shuffled in agitation, and Marinette ignored it, but her smile faded in response to the reminder.

“Marinette,” Luka said more seriously, and when she looked up his blue eyes had deepened into something that was a little hard to read. He frowned a little, as if he was trying to decide what he should say. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I get the feeling that things haven’t been so easy for you. I know it’s been hard to let yourself get close to anyone.”

He was speaking slowly, measuring out each word carefully, and it felt like there was a whole lot he deliberately wasn’t saying.

“I just need you to know, the Liberty is always a safe place. We’re here for you. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

It would be so easy, so very easy, to fall into those ocean deep eyes and fall into his arms, and tell him everything. That was what made Luka Couffaine so dangerous to be around. With ten years of Tikki’s constant litany of concealment and duty ringing in her ears, Marinette clamped her mouth shut on all her secrets even as a tiny voice in the back of her head pleaded but this is Luka.

“Weren’t we supposed to practise the song?” Marinette blurted out, and felt the heat of an embarrassed flush rise in her cheeks. She hadn’t felt this thrown in years.

Luka accepted the abrupt shift with nothing more than a nod and a soft smile, as if he’d expected it.

“Back to the Disney salt mines,” he said drily, and startled a laugh out of her. “Don’t tell Rose I said that. She’d have me tried for treason.”

“How did we get ourselves into this?” Marinette asked, and Luka chuckled.

“Well, Ro loves Disney, no surprise there, and Jules loves Ro.”

“And you love them both,” Marinette said softly.

“And you’d do anything for the people you care about, even agree to sing at their wedding if they asked you to,” Luka said just as gently, and they exchanged glances. “So here we are, knee deep in Disney magic. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to sit through Cinderella, both versions, and I can recite Tangled in my sleep.” His smile softened. “I’m developing a new appreciation for it, though.”

Marinette dropped her gaze, avoiding his eyes. He said in an easier manner, “I have to admit, there’s some great music. You should hear Rose belt out Let It Go sometime, and Jules did an incredible cover of Once Upon a Dream one Valentine’s Day for Rose.”

“What about you? Do you ever sing along?” she asked, trying to match his tone.

“What do you think? Music nerd here.”

He rapped out a solid, syncopated beat on the benchtop, and that husky voice of his sang, “Tatou o tagata folau...” She couldn’t help grinning, and he grinned back as he segued into a phrase from Circle of Life before riffing a bit of the simple bear necessities, and then finished on “You’re welcome, and thank you!” as she burst out laughing.

“Good music is good music,” he said with a shrug. “I get a lot of eyerolling from some of the kids when I start talking Disney in class, but it’s a starting point for a lot of discussion, and it turns out everyone always has their favourite song.”

“So what about you? What’s your favourite?” she asked, and he said easily, “Oh, there are a lot I could go with. It all depends on my mood.”

“Yes, but if you had to pick one?”

She wasn’t sure why she was pushing, and he hesitated for a long moment. Just when she thought he was going to brush it off, he reached for his guitar.

“It’s not strictly Disney, but ...” She didn’t recognise the soft, rippling intro that he played, and it wasn’t until he started singing that she worked out what it was.

He didn’t look at her as he sang about someday, out of the blue. It didn’t have to mean anything, it was just a song, he could have been thinking about anyone, but when he sang about still believing and still having faith in a voice that was far too heartfelt, Marinette felt her breath catch.

She couldn’t be doing this to him all over again.

~~~~~

He knew, the moment that his hands stilled on the guitar strings, that he’d gone too far and given away too much. The stricken look on Marinette’s face made that blatantly clear.

From the doorway, Rose breathed, “Oh Luka, that was lovely!”

Juleka dropped the bags of takeaway on the table and muttered something, while Luka watched Marinette and felt his heart sink like a stone.

“We so have to do a Road to El Dorado movie night tonight,” Rose was saying brightly. “You’re staying, aren’t you, Marinette? Otherwise Luka’s going to be the odd man out again.”

“I wish I could,” Marinette said. “I… I have to go. Sorry, Rose, maybe another time.” Her glance flickered in his direction. “Sorry. I’m really sorry I can’t stay for dinner after all.”

She scrambled her things together, dropping her handbag and coming up red-faced. This was more like the Marinette he remembered from their teenage years, and it brought up some difficult memories. She flashed an awkward smile in answer to Rose’s protests, and then she was gone.

“Well,” Rose said, staring at the empty doorway. “I guess Marinette’s still Marinette.”

“Rose!” Luka’s voice cracked like glass, and his future sister-in-law’s eyes widened at Luka’s uncharacteristically sharp tone. “Remember all those plans to get Marinette and Adrien together?” How well did those work out?”

“But this is different!” Rose protested.

“This is no different. No more plans. I’ve screwed things badly enough as it is.”

He drew in a deep breath and blew it out again, thinking of all those secrets that Marinette had to keep, and the distances that had grown in her life because of them. More quietly, he said, “Marinette could really use a few good friends in her life. I don’t want her to lose us again because we’re pushing for more than she can give.”

“I…” Rose looked away, biting her lip, and then met his eyes. “Yeah, I get it.”

Dinner was quieter than usual, and Luka ignored the perturbed glances his sister kept shooting him. He pushed the food around, barely tasting it, and put it aside when he couldn’t pretend he was actually eating it anymore.

Luka swung away from the table, his phone in his hand, and hesitated, then he texted Marinette before he could talk himself out of it.

+Sorry about that. Rose has promised to back off on the matchmaking – I think she’s just got wedding fever. Want to run through the song one more time before the wedding?+

It wasn’t Rose’s schemes, though. He knew that. Marinette was taking far too long for it to mean anything good, although he kept trying to tell himself that she might not be able to answer, she might be in the middle of something, she might have her phone off... Juleka muttered at him to stop fidgeting so much, god, you’re driving me crazy, before it finally chimed with a response.

+I think I know it now+ she sent back. +See you next week+

Luka stared numbly at the words on his screen. It was happening all over again, and this time he had no defences left. Juleka was watching him with a look of exasperated sympathy.

“You’re just as stupid as you ever were,” she told him, and Luka exhaled heavily. It was hard to argue with that.

#see the light #lukanette #lukanette endgame #pro lukamari #Disney

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likeiwishiknew · 3 years

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Azriel x Gwyn - The Beginning

Read on AO3

The air was unnaturally cold.

So cold that Gwyn could see her breath. She stood in the middle of the library, all of the lights turned down, in nothing but her nightdress.

Not another soul was awake, at least none that she could sense. Gwyn couldn’t recall when or how she’d made her way down here. Nor did she remember why. She suspected she was on one of the lower floors from what she could make out. However, it was too dark for her to be certain which one.

A chill ran up her spine, and she could not escape the uneasy feeling that something or someone was watching her. Turning in place, she checked all sides. But she did not see anything out of the ordinary. Still, her heartbeat picked up just as a cool wind breezed past her carrying the sound of a faraway voice.

Find the book and bring it to me. It cooed.

Gwyn spun in the direction of the voice, only to once again find nothing there.

She waited for the voice to speak up again. But didn’t. Yet the feeling that she was being watched did not go away. Gwyn focused for a moment on its words. The voice had mentioned a book. There was only one book it could possibly be talking about, but that thought left her with far more questions than answers.

Who did the voice belong to? And why were they, or it, searching for the book?

Rhysand had made it clear to her that there might be great repercussions should the book fall into the wrong hands. The sense of foreboding she felt from the haunting voice had her more than inclined to believe him. Which left her all the more determined to do anything and everything she could to ensure that did not happen.

Gwyn turned back around only to catch sight of a faceless figure, its sharp teeth inches from her face. Her stomach dropped.

She tried to shout but discovered that she could not find her voice. A wave of terror rushed over her at the realization. And when Gwyn tried to shift away, she found she could not move. Icy dread crept into her veins. It was what she feared most.

Helplessness.

She was helpless.

She turned back around only to catch sight of a faceless figure, its sharp teeth inches from her face. Her stomach dropped.

Gwyn tried to shout but discovered that she could not find her voice. A wave of terror rushed over her at the realization. And when she tried to shift away, she found she could not move. She was helpless. Icy dread crept into her veins.

The monster reached for her face, hands like claws, the second it touched her she jolted awake.

Bolting up from her bed, sweat dripped down her brow, leaving her skin cold and damp. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her throat felt so tight it was a wonder she was breathing, as her heart all but beat out of her chest.

The remnants of her dream began to fade until only the fear remained.

When she tried to recall the finer details of the dream her mind came back blank. Which had her fighting to remember, but no matter how she struggled the memory wouldn't return.

Gwyn let out a sigh. Taking a deep breath, she calmed her breathing. Her heart rate slowly followed.

She fell back onto her bed in a heap, confused and concerned, wondering if she closed eyes she might fall back into whatever nightmare had done this to her.

Gywn turned her head to stare at the blank wall beside her bed.

This was going to be a long night.

- - -

It had been well over a week since he’d last seen or spoken to Gwyn. Nesta told him that Gwyn had a lot of work to catch up on in the library, thus her absence at morning training.

And while that might’ve been partly true, he knew that wasn’t entirely the case. Gwyn was also avoiding him. Because of his conversation with Elain.

His shadows should have warned him of her approach, and yet they hadn’t. Though the truth was they often did the strangest things around Gwyn. They reacted to her in ways that they never did anyone else.

If she’d overheard his and Elain’s conversation. It stood to reason she might’ve thought he was admitting to still having feelings for Elain. But that wasn’t the case at all. He’d tried to find her countless times to explain as much to her, but every time he had gone to the library Clotho had told him Gwyn was too busy to see him.

Today was the first day he’d laid eyes on her since that night.

He watched silently from across the ring as Gwyn practiced aiming her fire with Lucien. This was now the second time the male had come to see her. Azriel had been absent during the first visit due to a last-minute assignment from Rhys.

But apparently, according to Cassian, the first lesson has been remarkably successful.

Lucien had managed to teach Gwyn how to call upon her fire.

Azriel watched engrossed in her effort, sending her his quiet encouragement and support. Her eyes were bright and focused as she honed in a target across the ways from her. Her hands alight with fire.

He watched her chest rise as she took in a deep breath and aimed, shooting her fire across the way. In a fury, the flames propelled forward toward their intended target - hitting them dead in the center.

Azriel saw her face go from serious to delighted. A small smile formed on his own lips at her feat. Gwyn jumped up and down in place. In her excitement, she ran straight into Lucien’s arms. With little hesitation, Lucien hugged in her turn, spinning her in a circle. A look of contented happiness on both of their faces.

Azriel could not remember a time he’d ever seen the other male so happy. Not even in the presence of his own mate.

The ease with which they embraced had him thinking it wasn’t the first time they’d done such a thing.

And he loathed the very thought. A part of him wanted to march over pull them apart. But he thought better of it.

He called out to his brother instead.

“Rhys, I need you to call Lucien away.”

It took a beat, but his brother responded shortly thereafter.

“Why is that?”

He had no time to explain.

“Please just do it,” he shot back.

Rhys was silent for a moment, and Azriel worried his brother would deny him this. Thankfully, his concern proved unwarranted.

“Fine,” Rhys returned.

He turned back to the duo just in time to see Lucien set Gwyn back into the ground. Azriel watched Lucien’s expression and posture stiffen, at which point he knew that Rhys had done as he asked.

He overheard Lucien informed Gwyn of as much.

“I must go,” the male told her.

“Why?” she asked with a touch of concern.

“It would seem your High Lord wishes to speak with me.”

Azriel saw Gwyn grow still and he got the feeling she knew exactly what he’d done.

But she did not comment on it, instead, she only nodded, “Alright,” she acknowledged.

Lucien, not knowing her as Azriel did, didn’t pick up on the tiny shift in her tone.

“I’m proud of you Little Red,” he said, rubbing the top of her head affectionately.

Gwyn smiled up at him, “Thank you.”

Lucien’s gaze went to him briefly. The other male’s eyes narrowed on Azriel. But he said nothing, simply headed straight for the stairs.

Azriel watched him go.

When he turned back to Gwyn he found her eyes set upon him. She started toward him and he opted to meet her halfway.

“Why did you have Rhysand call Lucien away?”

He stilled for a moment. It had been days since they’d last spoken and yet her first words to him were regarding Lucien.

Had she even missed him?

Was he only setting himself up for another heartbreak?

“That’s all you have to say?” he returned, voice coming out colder than he intended.

His tone clearly caught her off guard because she appeared less irritated and more concerned.

“Are you upset with me?” she questioned, sounding genuinely perplexed. He most certainly was upset. Though he wasn’t sure if he was upset with her or himself.

“You ran to him,” he managed to say.

Gwyn’s brows inched together in confusion.

“With a look of pure joy on your face you ran into his arms,” Azriel continued.

From the look on her face, she still did not quite understand.

"Anyone looking in would think you loved him,” he finished.

“I do love him,” she replied with little to no hesitation.

He felt something lodge in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

“I know we’ve not known each other long but I feel a connection to him. He’s like family to me,” she defended, “Like Nesta and Emerie and you.”

“I don’t want to mean the same thing to you that he does.”

She took a step closer to him.

“Then what do you want to be?”

He froze.

And Gwyn all but sighed, “See you can’t answer. Because you don’t know what you want.”

She moved to pass him.

Unthinking, Azriel’s hand darted out and grabbed hold of hers.

He spun her around and cupped her face, bringing their lips close. But he paused, leaving himself just enough room to meet her eyes - to seek permission. Gwyn stared back for a second before giving him a firm nod.

It was all he needed. Azriel brushed his lips over hers, gently at first. Only once Gwyn leaned into him, her warm hand upon his chest, did he deepen the kiss. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her in. He could get used to this, the feel of her warm body pressed to his.

Kissing her...it felt like breathing, essential to his survival.

Still, he managed to pull back before he got carried away.

Azriel didn’t wish to rush things between them. He would take his time with her, savoring every moment, every touch.

Meeting her eyes again, he stroked her cheek thoughtfully.

The truth was that he’d known for quite some time what he wanted, he simply never dared to imagine he could have it. Only now did he realize that if he didn’t try, he’d never know. And so, he took a leap of faith.

“I want you Gwyn,” he confessed, staring into her blue-green eyes that seemed to glow as they looked upon him, “And I hope you want me too.”

She placed her hand over his.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, “Are you sure I’m truly the one you want?”

He hated that she doubted it for a second. But he would tell her as many times as she needed to hear it. He would work every day to prove it to her.

“Yes,” Azriel re-affirmed, “It’s you I want Gwyn.”

He touched his forehead to hers.

“I know I haven’t done enough to make that clear, to reassure you. But it’s true. And I promise to do better. I promise I will show you that I mean everything I say. We can take things at your pace. I will follow your lead without question."

Studying her face, he found she still looked a measure unsure.

“If what you heard in that garden weeks ago is the reason for your uncertainty then allow me to tell you that was a misunderstanding.”

He would not lie, would not sugar coat it, Gwyn deserved the truth. All of it.

"At one time I did want Elain as a mate.”

Gwyn took a step back, dropping her hand and pulling it away. But Azriel managed to catch hold of it. And he held onto it for dear life.

“I saw how happy my brothers were. Rhys and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. You’ve seen them. They’re perfect for each of her,” he remarked.

By some kindness, Gwyn allowed him to keep hold of her hand. He stroked that back of it with his thumb.

“I wanted what they have. And for whatever reason, I believed that Elain could give that to me. I thought that after everything I’d endured through the centuries, I deserved that sort of happiness.”

Gwyn’s expression softened a touch at the barest mention of his past.

“But that was wrong of me. To think that I could replicate their happiness. To put all those expectations and hopes onto Elain simply because she was there. Three brothers and three sisters,” he paused on that thought, recalling how he’d felt about that in the past, “It all seemed so perfect. So long as I ignored the glaringly obvious issue.”

“Lucien,” she breathed.

He nodded.

“I pretended as though he didn’t exist, convinced myself he wasn’t worthy of Elain. It made it easier to convince myself that the cauldron had made a mistake. But I know now that my feelings for Elain were misconstrued. I didn’t love her. I loved the idea of her, of what believed she could be for me.”

Gwyn seemed to take a deep breath, digesting everything he’d said.

If he were being honest, Azriel was quite certain he’d never spoken so much in his entire life.

“And what do you feel for me?” she questioned.

This was where it got tricky.

“I...I care about you, so much. When you’re not within my sight I find myself looking for you. I miss you whenever I’m away or when you’re gone. I think about you often, more than I probably should," he admitted, "I’m always wondering what you’re doing and if you’re thinking of me too. And I’ve dreamed of kissing you for far too long. And now that I have I hope you’ll let me do it again.”

Her eyes were rimed with unshed tears. He took her face in his hands, gently cupping her cheeks, not caring that he hardly deserved to touch her.

“Please tell what you’re thinking,” he nearly pleaded.

The sound that escaped her was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle.

“I’m thinking this crazy,” she said at last.

He waited for her to continue.

“I’ve been having these confusing feelings for what must be months now, unsure what was wrong with me. Every time I thought I had it figured out something would happen that made me doubt it all. My thoughts. My feelings. You.”

He swallowed. And once again, he saw the doubt in her eyes. The sight of it broke his heart.

“I don’t - I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know what it means to be in a relationship. If that’s even what this is. If that’s even what you’re asking me,” Gwyn confessed.

“It is,” he confirmed for her.

Gwyn’s eyes held his.

"You’re not the only one who’s unsure about how we go about this, Gwyn. As sure as I am about you, I’ve never done this before either. I’ve had lovers before, but I’ve never been in a truly committed relationship. With my past lovers, we took what we wanted from each other, and once either one wanted out we walked away."

But it would be different with Gwyn.

If this didn’t work out he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away unscathed, and he loathed the very idea of this thing between them ever ending.

“But I still want to give this, us, a try. I want to try to be someone worthy of you."

Her brow furrowed, “I’m nothing special, Azriel.”

He let his hand slide down to the back of her neck, gripping it firmly, “That’s where you’re wrong, Gwyn. You’re special, especially to me.”

She reached out her hand and cupped his cheek, her eyes warm, “You’re special to me too,” she spoke in answer.

“Is that a yes?” he asked hopefully.

She cracked a brilliant smile and nodded, “Yes.”

Azriel found himself smiling back. He wasn’t sure what came over him but he pulled her into a tight embrace, lifting her feet straight off the ground before holding her up above him. Gwyn grinned down at him, the bright, silky strands of her hair tickling his face, and he felt the overwhelming need to kiss her again.

And so, because she'd said yes, he did.

~ ~ ~

Author Note: I'm a firm believer that the key to a successful relationship is honesty and communication. So that was the focus of this chapter. I've had these two dancing around each other for a while and it felt high time they behave like reasonable adults and talk about their feelings. You will note, this is not quite a love confession. I do not think we're there yet. But we will get there. We shall definitely get there, and it shall be steamy ;)

Anyways, this chapter was a pleasure to write so I hope you all enjoy it as well. And if you do, please do let me know in the comments!

~ ~ ~

@azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @bittermuire @ofstarsanddreams @corrdolium @toolazymyguy @inkdrinkershadowsinger @itswrongsong @dealingdifferentdevils @rhysmoira @brucexselina @inejjg @rhysmoira @gwynnight @fairytamy @bluegold08 @amandapearls @highqueentaey @lioness-says @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @princessofmerchants-reads @cantkeepmyeyesoffofyou-x

@my-fan-side @spookylightkidranch @elucienschild @keramzinskies @itswrongsong @mirubyjane

@lovelywordsandwine @ladygwynriel @parisakamali @mirubyai

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf #acotar #gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #azwyn #fanfiction #love #otp #Azriel #gwyneth berdara #ao3 update #read on ao3 #sarah j maas

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blackrose343 · 3 years

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Hopeless - Chapter 5: The Consequences

Warnings: Angst, Language and PTSD

I am not a medical professional so I cannot say if this chapter accurately portrays PTSD. I did research it and compared it to what I have written. From what I saw, it looks like the reader is going through something along the lines of PTSD. So to be on the safe side, I decided to put PTSD in the warning.

Devil May Cry - V x Gender Neutral Reader

Fanfic summary: You have been kidnapped by a Soul Snatcher clan that used to reside within Red Grave. They’re torturing you for more information about the one who helped you kill their leader. While being held captive you begin to think about how to escape, how this all started, and if someone will find you. Then again, what would happen if you escape?

Hopeless Masterlist

Sorry this took so long.

Part of the poem V reads is Auguries of Innocence by William Blake.

Present Day

Vergil returned with you to Devil May Cry not too long after the others. Everyone gathered around, excited to finally meet you. (Although, they wished it was under better circumstances.) Nero covered Nico’s mouth, quieting her before she exclaimed her excitement about meeting you. Vergil reminded everyone you’ve been through a lot and needed rest. A lot of it. He also stressed the importance of giving you space once you regain consciousness. Vergil didn’t want you to become overwhelmed by everyone bombarding you at once. You would need time to readjust to your life; to relearn what you have forgotten.

“Try not to wake (Y/N).” Vergil left the room as V approached you. A big sigh of relief left him. You were okay just like Vergil promised you’d be. Lovingly, V stroked your hair. He got onto his knees, then placed a tender kiss on your forehead. A tiny smile graced your lips. To not disturb slumber, V took his leave.

Vergil was sitting outside enjoying the night’s cool breeze. No, he was still trying to figure out how to tell V the decision he made. Ever since he made the decision he has been trying to find the best way to tell V. Vergil knew V wouldn’t take it well. Especially since he didn't know if all or some of your memories were sealed.

It wasn’t hard for V to find Vergil. He recognized Vergil’s agitated sigh anywhere. V’s expression showed Vergil he wanted to know what happened. Vergil chose to explain to V what the healer explained to him. V’s grip on his cane was so tight his knuckles whitened. He was furious Vergil made the decision of you possibly forgetting him. But, he understood why. V expressed to Vergil he wanted you to be okay no matter what. And that’s what Vergil achieved. Before V said anything he shouldn’t, he left.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, then you observed your surroundings. You had no idea where you were. After further inspection, you realized you were in someone’s bedroom. The room more than likely belonged to the man next to you. You studied the sleeping man. A book with a “V” on the cover was on his face. Pale, slender, covered in tattoos and some bruises. You wondered who he was. That thought soon vanished. Silently, you freaked out when you saw a panther by his feet. Even more so when you saw the bird next to him. Does that bird have three pupils?!

“Hey Shakespeare, wake up! (Y/N) is awake.” The bird ruffled his feathers, then flew around the room. The panther lazily yawned then looked up at you. It would have pounced onto you but the man commanded it not to. His sultry voice soothed you yet you don’t know why. You’ve never met him. Or at least you didn't think you did.

Heartbreak filled V’s eyes when you told him you didn’t know who he was. You could tell he was restraining himself from approaching you. V wanted to hold you; to do whatever he could to make you remember him. To make him feel better you mentioned his voice was familiar to you. V’s saddened eyes lightened with hope. He knew you would remember him in due time.

To get an idea of how much has been sealed away, V convinced you to tell him about your life. You briefly babbled about your childhood. Nothing too unusual about it. You glossed over your demon hunting training. You didn't have many friends because of it. You slightly elaborated your demon hunting career. Honestly, you enjoyed it and would never leave it. When you reached recent events, nothing came to mind. All you could remember was meeting with a gentleman for a job. You couldn’t remember the conversation or what the job was.

V meticulously chose his words while explaining what happened to you and how you met him. He also kept some details to himself. You took it as him not wanting to offend you. V did not want to be the reason you regain your horrid memories so soon. He knew you would remember eventually yet he will try to prolong it for as long as possible.

Few Years Later

You were surrounded by darkness. The sound of your breathing was interrupted by an agonizing scream. A familiar scream. You couldn’t remember where you heard it from. But you knew it. You instinctively followed it. The scenery changed as you made your way to the scream. The scenes varied from a bar to chaotic parts of Red Grave. It felt as if you were a part of each scene. As if you were reliving someone’s life.

The screams were muffled when you spotted an out of place door. The same door you’ve been seeing for too many nights. You banged on the door. Its barrier forced you away once again. You stared at the door, cursing at it. Each time you approach the door, the same thing happens. You didn’t know why you let yourself repeat this scenario so many times: banging the door non-stop till your hands bleed and the screaming abruptly stops. You wanted to say it was because you wanted to save whoever was behind the door. For some reason curiosity was more of a reason. You were unsure if you were curious to see who was behind the door or what was happening. There was no doubt you would find out soon. The barrier was significantly weaker than when you first saw it.

The muffled screams were non-stop. Whoever was screaming seemed to be in more pain than before. Desperately, you kicked the door while reassuring whoever was on the other side you were there to help. Nothing seemed to be working. It made no sense. It was a simple door. Nothing special about it besides the barrier. It didn’t matter. You had to get through it.

The door's final attempt to keep you away woke you. Your eyes shot open. Your mind felt hazy, then it was racing. Your heart was beating frantically. Sweat rolled down your body as you sat up. You growled from irritation when you realized you were in your room.

“(Y/N), are you alright? It seemed like you were having another nightmare.” V’s worried voice relaxed you. He softly caressed your face then kissed your forehead.

“The dream with the damned door...like almost every night now…” You were so frustrated with it. At first, you didn’t mind not opening it. You can’t always achieve something on the first attempt. After a couple weeks, well...It started to become frustrating. You tried to stop yourself from going near the door. The temptation of seeing what was behind it grew stronger with each attempt to open it. Not only did it create the most interesting scenarios the closer you got to opening it. It also seemed to be calling you to it. You were too close to give up on it now.

You yawned as you rubbed your temples. Lazily, you kissed V on the cheek then made your way to the bathroom. Whispered curses could be heard through the bathroom door.

V’s eyes followed you until the door blocked his view. His worry for you grows each time you mention the door to him. Ever since you started to dream about that door, you slowly started to become different. When the door made its first appearance, you became more irritable. V thought the irritability was from difficulty sleeping. He read poetry to you before bed but it didn’t always work.

The next thing V noticed was your interactions with everyone changed. Most of the time you would secretly observe them as if you were on a mission. Sometimes, you would barely talk to them or get lost during a conversation. V knew you were listening. It just seemed other stuff was on your mind. Other times you put up your guard when around a crowd of people.

Attempts to discuss your behavioral changes were made. Each time you yelled at V, confirming nothing was wrong. When you realized you were yelling at him, you automatically apologized. You explained to V you had no idea why you were acting the way you were. V would try to get some sort of explanation out of you. Eventually, you explained it was your dream with the door. The weaker the door got, the more realistic the dreams from it felt.

V was certain the door in your dreams was the seal to your memories. V brought up his concerns for you with Vergil the first chance he got. Solemnly, Vergil explained to V once the seal was released it cannot be remade. V was furious but hid it well. Instead of dealing with his feelings about this, he focused on you. Whenever you needed him, he was there. Whenever you were feeling down or anxious, he would do everything he could to make you feel better and safe.

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

You and V were on a double date with Nero and Kyrie. Kyrie wanted to have dinner at a new restaurant on the other side of Red Grave. The subway ride there was like any other subway ride. Nothing exciting to see. All of you chatted with each other, trying to decide where else to go besides the restaurant. You were excited to see a whole new part of Red Grave. It took the government long enough to start rebuilding it after what happened. Yet for some reason an uneasy feeling started to consume you.

Kyrie and Nero got off the subway with V following behind them. They’re voices faded as they neared the exit. You sat in the subway, staring at the advertisement on the station’s wall. The advertisement seemed familiar to you in a way. Yes, you’ve seen this advertisement in many places but that wasn’t it. It was as if this specific advertisement contained something. You were convincing yourself it was nothing and to catch up with the others. You couldn’t think of any reason as to why you didn’t want to get off the subway. You forced yourself to get off when the last call was announced.

A flash from a faulty light took you to a destroyed version of the subway station. The advertisement you were looking at before was torn. Not from age but from claws. As you turned your head, you saw the subway was no longer on the tracks. It was stuck in the wall on the opposite side of the tracks. Chunks of the station were around you, along with corpses. Broken electrical wires and pipes were above you. You turned your head again. Your eyes focused on the claws about to strike you. Your instincts screamed at you to defend yourself. “Get away from me!”

“V, are you okay?!” Kyrie’s voice rang through your ears. Your eyes shot open. The station was intact. Not one thing was out of place. Nero was helping V get up. V reassured Nero he could get up on his own. You could see a bruise forming on his chest. You were petrified. Nothing could explain what just happened or why. I attacked V? No, that’s not right. I punched something else. I was being attacked.

“V, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You examined V’s chest while apologizing to him over and over. V continued his reassurance. He didn’t want to ruin anyone’s mood, especially yours. He kept quiet about how much your punch hurt him. He gently wiped your guilt ridden tears. He kissed your hand, then led the way to the restaurant. You squeezed his hand, pouring your emotions into it. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

V kept himself composed the entire time. Within himself, V was more than worried. He felt your fear through your punch. Your eyes were filled with fear and yet they had determination. The last time he saw you like this was when you almost died. V had no doubt your memories will be freed soon.

V and Nero froze as you and Kyrie crossed the street. Disbelief filled them. They couldn’t believe the shitty luck today was presenting. The restaurant was on the roof of the building you were held captive at. Nero was spitting out excuses for V to get you away from here. There was no way either of them could let you enter that building, let alone let you eat dinner exactly where you were almost murdered. Before either of them could get to you, they watched Kyrie pull you into the building. Nero muttered “fuck” as he and V made their way to the restaurant.

Nervously, you laughed as Kyrie pulled you to the building. The uneasy feeling from earlier strengthened the closer you got to it. The feeling continued to worsen as you reached the roof. Your stomach was in knots. Your breathing started to become shaky. Your mind screamed for you to get away. You couldn't understand what was going on with you. You noticed Nero and V were a bit hesitant about coming to this place too. So maybe it wasn’t just you freaking out over nothing.

You wrapped a few ice cubes in napkins then placed it on V’s chest. You kept apologizing to him. You couldn’t understand why he wasn’t mad at you. All you saw was his concern for you. You wanted to explain to V what happened earlier. Just not with an audience. Everyone would think you lost your damn mind.

You couldn't stop yourself from figuring out why the events from earlier happened. Your mind conjured up so many reasons. You tried to figure out which one was a plausible reason. You didn’t want V to hear it was because of your damned dreams again. You’ve been using them as an excuse for too long. You could only conclude work may be starting to become too much. Maybe you needed a vacation. Who knows?

“(Y/N)”? You looked at Nero like a deer in headlights. Was he reading your mind? You weren’t sure. He was giving you a questioning look. Sheepishly, you apologized for not listening then asked him to repeat himself. You found out everyone was discussing the changes made when this part of town was rebuilt.

“What happened here? I know the Qliphoth was here. It just seems something else happened too.” Nero threw V into the spotlight. V’s explanation was vague. It barely gave you the answer you were looking for. You gave Kyrie a look, silently asking her if V was hiding something from you. Kyrie’s reply was a subtle shrug. She had no idea what was going on.

Dinner continued normally. It was as if everything from earlier never happened. Nero and Kyrie acting lovey dovey. You and V were trying not to tease them. It scared you how easily everyone was able to push something like that aside.

V glanced at you, looking for any sign that you were well. Ever since you entered the restaurant he noticed you were shaking. He knew you were attempting to hide it. The shaking appeared so strong, everyone thought you were freezing. He noticed you barely touched your food even though you claimed you were starving earlier. V thought it was best if you and him went home after dinner.

You and everyone else walked along the edge of the roof to exit the restaurant. V used his cane to deviate your wandering eyes to him. He made absolutely sure you didn’t look below or beyond. He had to. He wanted to prevent you from feeling worse than you already are. He feared you would remember what happened here.

Kyrie managed to find enough room to take a couple of pictures. Nero tried to get out of it by saying he didn’t look decent enough. V attempted to convince Kyrie to wait since the restaurant was crowded. Kyrie asked what was the harm of taking a couple pictures. It’s been too long since Kyrie got to take group photos. Also, the sunset would be the perfect background. The guys sighed in defeat.

You and Kyrie gushed over the pictures as you continued to leave the restaurant. Nero pleaded with Kyrie to wait until she was out of the restaurant to look at them. Kyrie showed Nero the picture she was currently looking at. Nero made a quick comment, then placed his hands on her shoulders. You and V watched Nero guide Kyrie. It was entertaining, even impressive. Nero had Kyrie dodge everyone coming through the door.

Your laughter at Nero and Kyrie was abruptly interrupted. Someone forced their way between you and V causing you to slam into the railing. As you situated yourself, you caught a glimpse of a black haired figure below. For just a second, the figure looked like a beaten V. You knew V wasn’t down there, he was next to you. You couldn’t stop yourself from checking. You saw V, then someone strangely familiar looking at the table behind him. Briefly, you tried to remember how you knew him.

“Are you ok-tell me who killed Carmilla!” The calm voice evolved into an aggressive demand. You couldn’t figure out who was talking to you. The demand was repeated. You kept quiet. You had no idea who Carmilla was. You don’t remember any mission involving anyone with that name. The harshness of the demand escalated until it evolved into yelling in your ear. You covered your ears but it sounded like it was coming from all over. Even from right next to you.

“I’m not telling you shit. Give up.” The haughty voice was yours, but you didn’t move your lips. The sound of powerful strikes, along with your whimpers followed. Frantically, you searched for help. Nothing. No one. It was just you and the one asking about Carmilla. You closed your eyes preparing for the next strike. You started to take deep breaths. It was the only thing you believed would put everything back into place.

Few people asked if V wanted them to call an ambulance. V persuaded everyone to leave you be. He reassured them you would be fine and needed to be left alone. He knew the best thing for you was to have as much space as possible. To have as much time as you need to gather yourself. He knew you needed him too, but there was no way to physically calm you without possibly making the situation worse.

You stood still, gripping the rail for dear life. V studied the rhythm of your deep breaths and heaving chest. It was obvious you were trying to calm yourself. Even more obvious you were currently reliving your time while held captive here. Nightmarish thoughts raced through V’s mind. Nothing he conjured could be compared to what you actually went through. He wanted to understand but couldn’t come close to. In hopes of helping you and calming himself, V recited poetry from his book. “To see a world in a grain of sand…”

“WHO KILLED CARMILLA?! TELL ME! TELL...poor souls...dwell in night...does…” Softly, the harsh demands transformed into V’s poetic voice. You completely focused on V’s voice, hoping he wouldn’t stop. The man in front of you morphed into V. Tears cascaded your face as you tightened your closed eyes. You begged V to stay with you. You wanted nothing more than for this madness to end.

Gingerly, you opened your tear ridden eyes. You were back at the restaurant. For the most part, everything was back to normal. It was darker and people were failing to not steal glances at you and V. V was still standing next to you. He gently closed his book, then turned to you. Concern and worry were radiating off of him. V pulled you into a hug as soon as he saw your tears. You gripped V’s hand for dear life as he led you out of the restaurant.

As soon as V opened the door, Griffon flew around the house. You headed to your bedroom with Shadow behind. You collapsed on the bed, burying your head in your pillow. You released the anxiety and fear you have been holding. You screams and cries could be heard throughout your home. To help calm yourself you cuddled with Shadow, letting her fur catch your tears. Shadow’s purring was the perfect lullaby to fall asleep to, especially after today.

“...H-HE-LP!...HELP!...He-help...” Those pleas were all the encouragement you needed to continue to get through the door. Nothing was going to stop you this time. You mustered your strength then delivered one final strike against the door. The barrier dissipated, as it pushed you away one last time. The door became ajar.

Regret consumed you as soon as you stepped through the door. A blinding flash brought you to an abandoned building. Someone similar looking to the man from the restaurant was interrogating someone who looked like you. The person being interrogated was severely beaten. It was obvious the man was doing whatever he pleased. No one was around to stop him. It wouldn’t be long until the person was dead. In an attempt to stop him, you jumped on his back. He threw you across his back. Somehow you merged with the one you were trying to save.

The man deeply slashed your abdomen. He was merciless. It felt as if he was never going to stop until he got what he wanted. Not once did his sinister smile disappear. If anything, it grew with each of your screams, your pleas. You screamed for help but no one came.

The strike to your head was excruciating. You gripped your head, screaming, as your mind released every single memory that was sealed away. Meeting V at the grocery store. Tracking Carmilla. Working with V. Your fight with Carmilla. Your captivity. All of them. It was too much for your mind to process at once.

V raced to your bedroom as soon as he heard you scream. Quickly, he studied the room and determined nothing was amiss. V attempted to loosen the ironclad grip you had on your head. V winced from pain when you grabbed his hands. It was possible you may have sprained his finger or two. V didn’t care. He stayed with you, reminding you how strong you are and how you can get through this.

Once you were calm V asked if you were hurt. Hysterically, you described your nightmare. The torture, the pain. The rush of other dreams within it. It felt so real to you. As if it happened to you as you dreamt it. V tried to explain that even though you were attacked in your dream it doesn’t mean the attacks actually happened. You were having none of it. You described every attack explicitly while tracing each one on your body.

V tried his best to calm you. Nothing he did relieved you. Not one bit. Your mind was frantically processing the memories it released. You couldn’t think straight. V tried to hug you but you pushed him away. His hurt expression made you feel worse, but you had no choice. You needed to stay away from him. You weren’t sure if the one in front of you was V or a Soul Snatcher; friend or enemy.

“Who the fuck are you?” Shakily, you cocked your gun, indicating you weren’t playing around. Shadow immediately placed herself between you and V. Griffon babbled about you not recognizing V or them. You didn’t care. You just needed to know what was going on.

“(Y/N) put the gun down and I’ll answer all of your questions.” Your defensive aggressiveness from before your memories were sealed has returned. There was no way V could weasel his way to convince you nothing was going on. To V this situation felt like he was reliving his very first encounter with you.

Your eyes narrowed with suspicion. Would he attack once you lower your gun? Will he actually tell the truth? What if this was a Soul Snatcher? Too many questions raced through your mind. You had no idea what part of yourself to listen to. Fuck it. You needed answers. “Lie or attack, I’ll make you regret it.”

For your sake V had to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. He recalled when he gave you the ring you were wearing. Hearing your argument made V realize it was pointless to retell the time you spent together. He was determined to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. No matter what. The only thing he could think of that a Soul Snatcher couldn’t do was summon Nightmare. Doing so caused quite a scare for your neighbors.

Your neighbors panic soon turned into silence. Irritated tension was all either of you could feel. Both of you wanted to say something. Neither of you knew what to say or where to start. So you both stayed quiet, trying to figure out what to say. The silence was unbearable for Griffon but he managed to stay quiet. God knows what either of you would do if Griffon said anything.

You took one deep breath, then decided to tell V everything about your time in captivity. The torture, the Soul Snatchers involved, your thoughts. Everything. You turned yourself away from V when you started crying. V attempted to reach over to comfort you but you indicated for him to stay where he was. You didn’t want to be touched by anyone.

V wanted to hold you. He wanted to do anything and everything he could to remind you you’re safe with him. But he fought himself from doing anything that would make you uncomfortable. He knew you would fulfill your promise if he did anything you saw as a threat.

If V had to be honest, he didn’t want to explain what happened when he found you. Besides the fact he was like you; not wanting to show weakness or vulnerability. He isn’t proud of how he reacted. That night was a tornado to him. It was fast and destructive yet it was a blur. Still. It was no excuse to not tell you. You told him everything. Now it was his turn. V sucked it up and reluctantly told you what happened.

You listened to V, unsure how to take it. At first, you were terrified to hear you almost died. (You remembered you made the choice but it was frightening to think about.) Soon fright turned into anger. You blamed V for having your memories sealed. Not long after, you questioned if being with V was the right thing for you. You even questioned if you would be with V after everything that happened.

V sat across from you, waiting for you to say anything. He was aware you were angry. He knew you would need time to process everything. It could take a long time, but V was more than willing to do whatever he could to help you. Except for one thing.

“I-I...I don’t know how to take in all of this...I-I think I need to sp-spend some time away from y-you. To absorb everything I just remembered..a-and what we just talked about...I also have to think of what’s be-est for me.” V’s heart broke in two. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was at a loss for words. He was unable to argue with you.

“Don’t.” You froze. V’s hand was hovering above yours. Without touching you, he guided your hand to lower itself, then release the clothing you were holding. Was V going to convince you to stay with him? You couldn’t tell. You knew he was going to say something. He was close to you but stepped away. “You should stay here. I’ll leave.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard. Why would he leave? You should be the one leaving. You whipped your head around to see if V was really leaving. He was. Already he grabbed his bag, then his book. It didn’t take long for him to gather the rest of what he needed. Once he was packed, he approached you. You anticipated him doing some gesture to say goodbye. Your heart broke when he did nothing except say his goodbye. With each step V took away from you, you felt more alone than ever before. When he was completely gone you believed you made the wrong choice.

#devil may cry #devil may cry v #DMC #dmc v #v devil may cry #v x reader #dmc v x reader #dmc5 v x reader #dmc vitale #vitale x reader #vitale

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shoyomeow · 3 years

Text

WINTER WONDERLAND

- a @babythotshq collaboration

❀ characters : motoya komori x gnl! reader

❀ genre : fluff

❀ warnings : mentions of alcohol, language , mentions of the pandemic

❀ wc : 2444

❀prompt : game night

shoutout to @sempiternal-amour . i got you for the secret santa event and i hope you had a wonderful christmas.

USUALLY CHRISTMAS WAS YOUR FAVOURITE HOLIDAY.

There had always been a set routine that you had adopted during this time of the year that always filled you with more happiness that you could imagine and once you had started dating Motoya, who had been just as enthusiastic as you and would not only tolerate but add on to your extreme love for Christmas, it seemed that nothing in your life could go wrong.

At least during Christmas.

That was until this year of course.

2020, the year that you hope you never have to relive again and the year that has filled you with so much pain, anguish and exhaustion that the disconnection you felt from Christmas was not even unexpected at this point.

There was no part of you that felt like it was Christmas time and you figured that the same could be said for your beloved boyfriend as well since he didn’t show you any signs of holiday spirit either. Going through the year had been hard on both of them, while neither of them were extroverts who liked going out there was something oddly stifling about being forced to stay home instead of choosing to.

As the months passed by and the virus didn’t show any signs of going away, their irritation at being forced to stay at home morphed into sheer fear for themselves and their loved ones so you suppose it was understandable that neither of you felt up for Christmas this year,

You flinched as cold and slightly damp skin came in contact with your exposed arms, the sleeves of your hoodie having been rolled up to give you more comfort as you kneaded the dough, “How many times have I told you not to hug me after working out? You smell gross babe.”

You teased as you turned your head to see your boyfriend better, his bangs were sticking to his forehead, no doubt because of the sweat but there was a bright smile on his face which even after all these years made you swoon.

“The love of my life looked so serious how could I not comfort them by bestowing my loving embrace upon them.” he pouted prompting an automatic eyeroll.

“Okay you dork,” you pecked his cheek to reassure him before pushing him away, “Now go take a shower before you stink up the whole place. I didn’t spend that much money on scented candles for you to ruin it with your sweat.”

“Whatever my love commands, i shall do.” With one last kiss to the back of your neck, Motoya walked away from you and into the washroom.

God, even though three years had passed since you started dating the volleyball player you couldn’t help but feel giddy over him. You used to think that it was only in fiction that people didn’t get completely and utterly bored with their partners.

“So i was thinking,” Motoya started as the two of you lounged on the sofa with your legs perched up on his lap as the two of you searched for something to watch.

“Oh dear, that’s never a good sign now is it?”

You laughed as he flicked the back of your feet, briefly making a quip about how you should moisturise more before looking at you and continuing his earlier sentence, “What if we have a game night or something for Christmas?”

“Hah?” You sat up at that and frowned at him, “Babe won’t that be like really irresponsible? We’re still in danger from the virus and shit.”

“No no,” he shook his head vehemently as if the very thought of breaking safety protocols was terrifying, “Like a virtual thing. I was talking to a few of my old teammates from high school and shit so they were telling me how they had a virtual party for a birthday so I dunno.”

“Look, I know we’ve both been in sort of a funk recently and you haven’t been feeling the vibe for this year either but I just thought it would be nice to go through our routine and just try to enjoy ourselves?”

“What would we even play though?” You mused as you looked at the boy who seemed to beam at the prospect of not having his idea shut down.

“I already googled that shit,” Motoya giggled as he leaned forward to press a light kiss to your lips, “You really should start moisturising babe.”

“Yeah yeah,” you pecked his nose, briefly wondering if people would hate how absolutely cringey the two of you were as a couple, “Does that mean we’re going to go through all the traditions?”

“Mm, of course. The others might not want to but we can do it ourselves right?”

“Yeah,” your enthusiasm for Christmas was still pretty much nonexistent but as you looked at your boyfriend who was showering you with kisses you couldn’t help but think that you didn’t have to be enthusiastic for Christmas at all.

Christmas Eve was surprisingly amazing.

The two of you had woken up at the same time, which was odd considering that Motoya always woke up before you for his training. A part of you wanted to stay snuggled up next to him in bed but there was a slightly bigger part of you which wanted to start with the festivities already.

Like all Christmases before today, it started with baking. Of course neither of you were that great at cooking so you had ordered the batters for everything that you were supposed to make.

The cookies and plum cake were first, considering that the mixes for them were the easiest to navigate through , the gingerbread house was next. You and Motoya had always had a certain amount of fondness for assembling the house , maybe it was because of the food fight that usually used to follow that used to prompt you to head to the backyard to hose each other down.

The second event was of course getting ready to wear the ugliest possible Christmas outfits the two of you could find. There was one Christmas, the very first one that you two spent together where you dressed up in attractive clothes taking inspiration from the Mean Girls outfit and while Motoya had appreciated that he had immediately made you swoon when he said that he would love to dress up in ugly outfits starting next year.

With your and Motoya’s nails painted with bright red and green nail polish and the two of you dressed in equally bright (and horrendous) red and green sweaters, you sat down with your laptops in front of you and logged into the zoom meeting.

Sakusa was the first one there of course, always the one to be ten minutes before the given time no matter how much he hated events like this, you and Motoya smiled triumphantly as his eyes narrowed in to look at something on the screen and his nose turned up in disgust.

“What in the hell are the two of you even wearing?”

The look of sheer disgust filled the two of you with a sense of pride , after all that was always the wanted reaction for you two. Second to horror of course.

“Are the others not here yet?”

“There are a few in the waiting room, I’ll just let them in.”

“Babe didn’t you disable the waiting room?” You questioned as you saw Motoya accept everyone individually.

He just looked at you with wide eyes with his eyebrows scrunched up, “Wait you can do that?”

You let out a snort before taking his laptop from him, out of the two of you you had always been the more tech savvy one.

“Heya everyone!” You tried to mask the awkwardness you were feeling as you greeted the handful of people who had joined in. Motoya and you wanted it to be a “small event” so you hadn’t invited many people in the first place except for a few of your mutual friends and Sakusa, “Thank you for joining us. Motoya and I didn’t want Christmas to suck so we figured something like this would be sorta fun.”

The circle you and Motoya mostly ran in was a close knit one where everyone knew each other and honestly you preferred having this than being surrounded by a bunch of fake people with whom you couldn’t be yourself.

Akira, your oldest friend and the person who had introduced you to Motoya in the first place was adorning her favourite cosplay , one of some character called Uravity and she smiled at you (well you assumed it was at you) before opening her mouth, “MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU WHORES.”

You winced at the loudness of her tone, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to connect your laptop to the Bluetooth speaker, “Akira my love, are you drunk already?”

“What’s Christmas without eggnog?” Akira grinned at you before picking up a piece of fried chicken and biting into it, “Besides, I’m exhausted as fuck this Christmas so you can’t judge me.”

“If you’re all exhausted and shit then why the fuck are you cosplaying?” Ryo, a teammate of Motoya's, grumbled as he looked at his screen. Surprisingly enough Ryo and Akira went to the same college, when you and Motoya got together it was a bit surprising to see that so many of the people you knew were somehow connected to him.

“Ryo stop being mean to Akira, she can do whatever she wants to do.” Like a true mom friend Azusa let out a soft sigh as he looked at the people on his screen. Azusa, was probably the only “new addition” you had to your group.

It was a bit surprising to say this but it was Sakusa who had introduced you and Motoya to the purple haired man who became your friend instantly. Apparently Azusa was one of the only people Sakusa respected enough to introduce to his circle, even his MSBY team members hadn’t received that privilege yet.

“Why can’t you all just shut up?” The final person in your tiny little group spoke up as he hid his face with the cloth of his turtleneck , “You guys are way too loud.”

“Now now,” Motoya intervened, “Why don’t we all start with the games already?”

Ryo’s lips turned up to form a competitive grin, “Of course, I’m going to pummel all of you to the ground.”

“Not if i pummel you first you stupid hoe,” Akira yelled at her screen but it was obvious that the declaration was meant for the only person who considered to be her rival (who she used to watch disney movies with and cried)

Sakusa had won all the games.

They didn’t play many games , just a few basic ones like Pictionary , bingo, and some trivia. They added a little spice to it by incorporating sharpies, drinks and junk food into the equation but at the end of it all, Sakusa was the only one who was fully sober while the rest were stuffed and tipsy and had drawings all over their face.

“FUCK,” you raised your head from Motoya’s shoulder and looked at the small square box where Ryo was staring at his lap? table? well whatever it was, “WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THAT I WAS USING A PERMANENT MARKER ON MY FACE?”

You let out a loud laugh as you looked at his face, there were drawings all over it - a proof that he lost miserably against Sakusa’s prowess - and the fact that he couldn’t get rid of it easily combined with her tipsy state , she burst into laughter.

The kind of laughter that made it hard to breathe and was so painful that you had to clutch your stomach , despite knowing that doing so had absolutely no impact on the pain you felt. Your laughter must’ve triggered a domino as everyone who was present in the zoom meeting started cackling, except for of course Ryo who was staring at all of you angrily.

“Whatever I’m leaving you assholes,” Ryo grumbled as he moved towards his laptop before moving back, “I’m only leaving because my mother is calling me so don’t bother pestering me to join again. Merry Christmas and bye you dicks.”

“Hey guys,” Akira’s girlfriend, Sumire, popped up on her screen and smiled sheepishly at the group, “Kira’s completely knocked out so I’m just gonna tuck her in. I’m sure she appreciated this, she’s been feeling funky lately.”

“No problemo Sumire,” you smiled at the girl, “the pleasure was all ours. Merry Christmas beautiful!”

Sumire blushed at the compliment before smiling at everyone, “Merry Christmas everyone, good night.”

“Aight I’m gonna sleep. I have work to finish tomorrow , this was fun guys.” Azusa smiled at them wryly as he clutched his head , he had always been the most sensitive to alcohol in their group.

“Good night Zuzu!”

The boy blushed at the nickname before growling angrily , “STOP CALLING ME THAT.”

You and Motoya shared a laugh as he left, the only people who were left in the meeting now were the two of you and Sakusa who seemed like he was on the verge of falling asleep then and there.

“Goodbye.”

Never mind , Sakusa left as well.

You laughed at his antics , already expecting an eloquent text about how the event was fun from the MSBY player, before you moved forward to shut down your laptop and Motoya’s laptop.

“Are we gonna get up to wash our face?” Motoya grumbled as he pulled you back into his arms.

“We can wait till tomorrow can’t we?” You nuzzled into his neck before placing a soft kiss there, “Thank you for doing this love. It was really fun.”

“Mm,” he nodded slowly , “it was. Maybe next year it will be better?”

“We can only hope can’t we?” You raised your head to press soft kisses on his face, “Besides as long as I’m with you, every Christmas is amazing.”

Motoya stared at you for a moment before the two of you burst out laughing, “That was so cheesy!”

“I know right? I almost couldn’t keep a straight face when I said it.”

“I love you so much,” Motoya leaned down to kiss you languidly before resting his forehead on yours, “I’m gonna marry you someday.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll say yes.”

“I know you will. Weren’t you the one who asked me to marry you on our first date?”

“That was because you gave me cake!”

“Yeah yeah,” Motoya moved in his position to make you more comfortable as you laid on his chest, “Merry Christmas love.”

“Merry Christmas handsome.”

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new-tella-us · 4 years

Text

Aight, so this is a very long Komahina Oneshot.

I'm gunna milk the freak out of the popular shiet!

Anyways couple of warnings before we start.

This oneshot is not happy. It contains:

Character Death

Swearing

Illness

Mentions and attempts of suicide

If any of this stuff upsets you then skip this chapter. I'll be making happier stuff in the future.

Bittersweet Ending

"Hey Komaeda! Wanna visit Hajime and Nekomaru with me?"

That was the first thing Nagito heard after leaving his house. Akane was at his door and seeming pretty anxious.

"Oh..uhh sure. I wanted to talk to Hajime, I guess I just never had the time,"

It was still strange to see Akane being nice to him. He always expected something bad to happen to him around her but, lately she's been pretty docile. Though, she still doesn't want to call him by his first name regardless of how many times Nagito has said that it's fine. Nagito quickly got ready and left his tiny cottage with the girl.

...

The walk was long. Nagito offend wondered why Nekomaru and Hajime were put so far away from the rest of the group. Some actually moved closer to them so they wouldn't have to take such a long walk but, not Nagito. He was just...too busy. His mind started to wander as he walked. Where did his story start? Maybe when he woke up.

When he first woke, he couldn't believe it. He was back in reality. A hand reaching out to him snapped his attention right back to reality. He sensed so much hope radiating from the person reaching out that he confused him with the Ultimate Hope, Izuru Kamukura and while, the person was the Ultimate Hope, it wasn't Izuru. Hajime Hinata was his name. His warm smile finally pulled Nagito out of the lull he was in. So he stood up, ready to take on a new world.

...

Two months had past, the fifteen students were able to move to the original Jabberwock Island and live there in peace. Of course, occasionally, the Future Foundation would ask for assistance from Hajime but, other than that, it was quite peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, that Makoto Naegi decided to slightly dampen the mood of the island by building a graveyard for all the student of Hope Peak that got killed in the Tragedy. Each set of areas were separated by class and for everyone that died, they would build a ginormous, well more like life size, statue of the person.

That ended up pissing a lot of people off for obvious reasons, since there was only one death from class 77. Chiaki Nanami, she would stand alone in a sea of statues that threatened to drown her in the meaningless names and monotonous stone gray.

Hajime also brought up a pretty good point.

"Makoto, this is our home. If you put every class, every Ultimate, all 78 of them here, our island would become a travelers island,"

"We'll make sure to moderate that but, this just the best area we can put these and respect our dead, plus this is probably going to be where we bury you guys and I would thing you would want to be near friends,"

No one had much of an argument. Hajime sighed and agreed to the plans on the condition that Makoto keeps visitors to a minimum and never does overnight stays. Makoto agreed and it was settled. They decided the graveyard would take up the entire fifth island to keep it as far away as possible. After all, the group didn't need a constant reminder that not everyone got out. Nagito didn't need a constant reminder that he got the last bit of her killed for his idiotic plan and now she'll never come back.

Never.

...

More months past and life was normal...well, their version of normal, at least. Through out these months, he and Hajime have gotten closer than ever. Hajime seems to be the only one who cares, Nagito likes it when they hangout...he always does this. He always gets attached despite it never ending well. He did it with his dog;the dog got ran over, his parents; they died in a plane freak accident, Chiaki...yeah... He knows he always gets attached to the ones who will die and yet, he still gets attached.

...

He caught something...Oh not Hajime, Nagito. Nagito got sick, really sick. He could barely move out of bed. People kept visiting him, Mikan kept checking up on him and Hajime, unlike with the Liar Disease, actually stayed. By the end of the week, the group had given him flowers that he couldn't take care of (Mahiru did so instead), and all sorts of candies that he didn't have the appetite for, even Hiyoko gave him her favorite brand of gummy bears. Throughout the few weeks, he fluctuated between good days and bad days.

On one of his good days, he was hanging out with Hajime. He insisted that they hang out somewhere other than the house. Hajime furiously declined saying that Nagito need to rest and, as per usual, he was right but Nagito just didn't want to sit in bed any longer.

"Fine, I'll just go somewhere by myself" Nagito said in a huff. Hajime's face changed from a "what the actual hell??" Look to a defeated one. Nagito knew Hajime would never leave Nagito alone while sick on this island so, Hajime agreed.

Nagito decided that they were going to the cemetery that finished it's construction very recently. Hajime didn't put up a fight and they both headed there. Once they arrived, they had to walk through class after class to find the class they were looking for. Nagito started to feel his "good" day going bad but, tried his best to keep a strong face. They finally made it to the class 77 area and there she stood, alone. Stone eyes staring down at her Nintendo DC. Nagito briefly wondered what game she would be playing to be so intensely staring down at the game without looking up before he remembered that this was a statue.

"So, why here of all places? Did you want to mourn Chiaki?" Hajime asked, blunt and to the point as always. So Nagito answered with all equally blunt question.

"When I die, do you think they'll put my statue next to hers?"

Hajime seemed caught off-guard, he didn't seemed to know what to say next.

"Umm, supposedly? It would probably be in death order. Y'know, like who dies first?"

"Exactly, when I die, which should be soon-" Nagito couldn't hold back the sickness anymore and doubled over coughing. This, of course, panicked Hajime as he tried to help as much as he could. When the coughing died down and Nagito could breathe again, he commented; "See? I told you tha-"

Hajime cut him off, "You're being delusional. You're not going to die, Nagito"

"You don't know that and I'm not getting healthier"

"It's a cold.."

Now, Nagito was the one to interrupt, "Colds don't last weeks Hajime"

"It's a fuckin' bug" Hajime cursed

"Now look who's being delusional, it's my sickness. It's finally coming to tak-"

"Enough with the with the fucking death talk! You're not gunna die Nagito!" His voice was louder but, he didn't sound as certain. "You're...not.." his voice was shaking, pleading for Nagito to stop. Of course Nagito had to take it so far. He always takes it too far and ends up in these kinds of situations.

"...Sorry"

"Let's...get you home, you're not feeling well"

...

Turns out, Hajime was right, it was just a cold but with his immunodeficiencies, it made it much harder to fight off. With the right medicine and another four days, Nagito started to improve. People were still cautious, now that every had seen how a common cold could affect him, they were more hesitant to let him do the common housework that he used to do on the regular. They all collectively decided thatNagito would take regular check ups to keep his health in check. He agreed to keep them all from panicking too much. Hajime insisted that Nagito does a blood test and a brain scan.

"Just in case of something serious.."

Why? Hajime should be the last person to say that. He is the only person that knows about Nagito's condition...was it to let everyone else know? He gave Nagito a look, a look that was hard to decipher. It almost seemed like Hajime knew something that Nagito didn't.

...

.........

....What?

This is....

That's impossible...

Maybe the tests were flawed? Maybe there was a mix up....

Nope, these are his results but, that's impossible.

These tests say he's anemic.

Just anemic. Not any of the other illnesses he was diagnosed with as a teen. Vitamin Deficiency Anemia. A chronic but usually treatable condition. The worst part? It matches up with how Nagito has been feeling since he got the disease. The pale skin, the weight loss, the inability to fight of the smallest of colds without weeks of treatment. It all lines up. This is...some really good luck. Life saving good luck...that means, the next surge of bad luck might be...Life ending. No..NO! Nagito refuses to lose anyone else and certainly not because of his luck!

...

"That's amazing, Nagito!" Hajime said.

Hajime was the only person Nagito could go to about this. He knew so much already, it made it easier to tell him more...and yet, now Nagito felt guilty. His relationship with Hajime got slightly strained with the graveyard talk and now Hajime has seemed to almost completely forget that. He even seems happy, genuinely happy. Did Nagito really want to ruin that? ...He had to.

"Uhm, yeah but, this surge of good luck is sure to come with harsh repercussion," Nagito said nervously.

Silence...

"Nagito...please, just this once. Can you just be happy when something good happens to you?" Hajime's voice was a mixture of annoyed and worried.

"Not when this could kill someone. Sorry," Nagito might have to reconsider if telling Hajime things is a good idea anymore...

"...Okay, how about this? If we tell everyone to watch out for something bad and keep on their toes, will you at least try to enjoy yourself?"

That didn't feel good enough but, there wasn't much Nagito could do. "Fine"

...

A couple weeks had passed by. Nagito became more and more restless with everyday that nothing happened. Recently, the Future Foundation called some of them to a small mission on the main land. To gather intel on a rebel group that still stands by the complete extermination of Ultimates. Nekomaru, Nagito, Hajime, Mikan and surprisingly Hiyoko were tasked with this. Throughout that time, Nagito tried his best to trigger his bad luck. Walking through the most dangerous parts of town everyday to see if something would happen...Nothing did. He tried everything to cause any form of bad luck to ease his mind, from dangerously unstable platforms to rebel infested areas. Nothing happened. Nothing but Nagito constantly worrying his group.

"Nagito, you can just come with us. You know that right?" Hajime mentioned, worrying flashing in his heterochromatic eyes. Nagito liked to stare into them but, now is not the time.

"Oh, I would never dream of disturbing the presence of you with mine."

Hajime started to look pissed off.

"Listen Nagito, is you are still worried about your bad luck...I understand but, you can't force it to activate. Just let the inevitable happen."

Okay, now Nagito's pissed off. Let the inevitable happen? Does Hajime not care that the 'inevitable' could be death?

"You're acting too casual about all of this. This is something big and you're acting like it's nothing. Do you not care? Not care that someone on our island could die? After all we've been through?"

"Of course I care but, what am I supposed to do? Let you get yourself killed? If you have forgotten, you are also someone on our island. I can't just allow you to die! I have to at least try to save everyone as I always have!"

"....I'm not that important, I caused a good portion of this. It's not like anyone would truly care too much if I was gone. It's fine to let a nobody like me die," Nagito said. Did he mean it? Maybe but, he didn't want to be the cause of anymore pain or death...

Hajime was steaming, he looked like he might actually hit something in anger but instead, he grabbed Nagito's shoulders and pushed him up against a wall. Now, Nagito couldn't ignore him. Couldn't try to push his concerns aside.

"I care dammit! Can't you see that?"

Nagito's heart raced. His face was so close to Hajime's. He felt like something bad was bound to happen with them so close. A part of him, really wanted to just lean in and kiss Hajime while he had the chance. The part that wanted to possible keep some form of a friendship with Hajime, however, knew not to.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have spent days getting you out of that coma. If none of us cared, we wouldn't have spent time, energy and money to help you get better and to give you gifts while you were ill. We all care about you. So please...don't...don't leave me like Chiaki did.." Hajime plead, desperately. He seemed near tears, tightening his grip on Nagito. It's rare to ever see Hajime so scared. It hurt Nagito, since he couldn't honestly promise that. At that moment, he truly did wished he stayed in that coma or..no..further than that, he just wished he was never lucky to begin with. His luck caused so many people pain, include the man that's now pleading for Nagito to live in front of him. Despite Hajime's pleading, Nagito knew what he had to do to make this awful cycle stop.

"I...I promise," Nagito lied, "I'm sorry"

Hajime's grip loosened then he hugged Nagito.

"Thank you..." Hajime's voice was shaky but, genuine. Nagito couldn't say anything to that.

...

It's time. Nagito made sure to spend time with everyone he could. It was the end of the investigation and nearly time for everyone to go home...Nagito wasn't going to make it home. On one of his investigations, he found a very tall skyscraper. The tallest one with the exception of Hope's Peak. He wasn't going to jump from there, not when Makoto is trying his hardest to repair the place.

He stood on the roof of this broken building. The railings that once stood there, probably to prevent what Nagito was about to do, rusted and withered away. He stood at the edge, looking on at the city that he helped destroy.

He was about to step off when he heard someone.

"Nagito?"

Of course, of all people, it had to be him. Nagito turned around to see none other than Hajime standing at the doorway next to Nagito's shoes that he removed to confirm that this wasn't a murder. Nagito turned back to the city. He felt no reason to hide it anymore and repeated a question he asked a long time ago.

"Do you think, when I die, they'll put my statue near her's?"

Hajime answered the same too.

"That depends on who dies first in the group. They'll probably organize it in death order..."

Nagito said nothing. He knew that if that's the case then, he would be right next to her.

"You really aren't going to turn back, are you? You are that afraid of your talent that this is what you think you have to choose?"

Still nothing.

"Can you at least give me an answer?"

Nagito couldn't. He was so focused at looking on at the city, he didn't realize that Hajime had made it next him.

"Just turn back, go on without me," Nagito turned to Hajime and smiled, "You'll forget me eventually,"

Hajime said nothing but eventually turned away and started walking back. Nagito was a little surprised but was also glad that Hajime understood. He went back to looking at the city.

"If I can't convince you. I guess..." Nagito heard Hajime walking back and felt his hug. Nagito turned to face Hajime and maybe question something, before he could say anything, Hajime continued,

"I can at least make sure you don't die alone."

Hajime pushed himself forward off the edge, taking Nagito with him.

Now, they were falling. Falling fast. It didn't feel fast though. It felt like the world slowed down, everything was noisy but, silent. Nagito couldn't believe it. It was really happening. That's when Nagito started to question the things he should have thought about before choosing this way of ending it. What if he didn't die on impact? Would it hurt? Would it burn? Would he just feel numb? How long can you even last after a fall like that? But, those questions are useless to ask now...

He wanted to tell Hajime how he felt. He knew he was going to die so, it wouldn't matter. He might as well. Plus, Hajime would probably not hear him over the pressure threatening to burst their eardrums in its might.

He screamed to the top of his lungs the words he wanted to say since the Neo World Program.

"I Love You, Hajime!"

He didn't expect much. He didn't any response. So he certainly didn't expect what was said next.

"I Love You Too!"

Hajime...loved him? He didn't expect that at all. This, somehow, made Nagito feel better and worse at the same time. He hugged Hajime tighter, they should be close to the ground soon so, Nagito can die without much regret.

"And I told you," Hajime continued, "I'm going to try and save everyone. Including you."

Immediately after that, Nagito felt shift in positions. Now, it was Hajime under Nagito. Nagito realized what Hajime was going to do. He was going to take to brunt of the landing on the chance that Nagito would live. If Nagito was lucky, he could live.

And, of course,

Nagito was lucky.

...

"We're here! Finally!" Akane's voice snapped Nagito back into reality.

"Y-yeah, that walk took a-a lot out of me..." Mikan followed. Wait, when did Mikan get here? She must have joined their walk while Nagito was spaced out.

"A-are you o-okay Nagito-san? You s-seem spaced out.."

Oh right, he probably seems very out of it on their walk, he should say something.

"Yes, I'm okay, I was just...thinking."

He looked up at the cemetery entrance and prepared himself when he entered.

75...76...77. Class 77...

All the way to the left is Chiaki Nanami, the first to go. She was the hope of Class 77 and thus Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Despair, had her executed. She was a kind girl that did her best to help and protect everyone she could. She will always be remembered. Her plaque says:

"I'm going to get out with all of my friends"

To the right is Nekomaru Nidai. He was a victim of trial four. But he made it out of that world alive. How did he die then? He, unfortunately, had a life-threatening illness and ,unlike Nagito; it wasn't a misdiagnosis. His illness took his life about three weeks ago. His plaque says:

"Keep fighting, the only way to success is to try"

And in the middle, despite the fact that he was not a part of class 77, everyone insisted that he'd be put there. He was family to them all.

Hajime Hinata.

He was the person who saved the class multiple times and never gave up hope. He fought for everyone and, in the end, he died to keep his message. His plaque says.

"I'm going to save everyone, that includes you"

Nagito looks at Akane who was standing there crying but silent. Akane has always had trouble expressing negative emotions so this is a start.

He then looks at Mikan, who was on her knees sobbing at Chiaki's grave. She wholeheartedly blames herself for Chiaki's death, we're trying to convince her that it's not her fault. Maybe one day they can convince her. Then he looks at Hajime. He just stares. It, at first seemed like appropriate weather for this occasion. Rain. Until Nagito realized that sky, though dark, is clear. He wiped his eyes to find that the 'rain' was really tears. He was crying and yet, he wasn't broken. He was sad but, felt weirdly happy.

"Inevitable, huh? At least, I'm glad I got to know you before the inevitable." Nagito said, out loud. "This is such a bittersweet ending."

Allll right! This is finally done. I am literally about to cry. This is the saddest thing I've ever written. 😭 The next chapter is gunna be a lot happier.

Thanks for reading.

#danganronpa #danganronpa2 #danganronpa3 #hajime hinata #sdr2 hajime #sdr2 nagito #nagito komaeda #komahina #oneshot #sad

38 notes · View notes

paddie-ut · 4 years

Photo

Soriel Week 2020 Day 1: Dance More of a subtle reference to the prompt in this one. Yes i’m back at it with the angst on day 1. The pic is just a bonus for the real entry, which is the oneshot I wrote below the cut. You can also read it here on AO3: X (TW for implied blood, death and violence. The usual stuff that comes with references to the no mercy run)

It was cold.

It was cold when he hit the tiled floor, body rapidly going to pieces. And it was cold now. Wherever he was.

Everything still ached. Like acid eating through his bones. The pain was always strangely familiar, expected. But that never stopped it from hurting.

He curled his crimson stained mitten tighter over his ribcage, not even sure if he was facing up or down. He didn’t dare open his sockets, wanting more than anything to slip away from all this into sleep. He was so unbelievably tired.

The sounds of a small child’s body repeatedly slamming into the floor and against the walls kept swimming through his skull, ruining any chance of that. Paired with the hazy visions of a gold hallway littered with bones and awash in great stains of red, it was like a cruel joke. So much for this process being peaceful.

How long had it gone on this time? How many times had he killed them?

It didn’t matter anymore. So he wished his mind would stop asking.

With every moment that passed though, he did start to notice the cold all around was losing its grip on him. Something warm had come to combat it. Something physical… soft. Something… that smelled like cinnamon… and butterscotch?

The oddity of that alone was enough to calm the chaos of his thoughts some, and convinced him to attempt to open his weary sockets. It was more effort than expected, but he managed it.

What met his eyelights then when they were able to focus was… unexpected to say the least.

Soft scarlet eyes stared down at him, set in what seemed to be a sea of white fur. Long creamy white ears framed their face and two horns crowned their head. Strangely, there were also what appeared to be shining specks in their fur, glittering like tiny stars. Those same specks were also lazily floating in the air around them, bright and twinkling against what seemed to be all encompassing blackness in every direction.

Judging from the angle he was seeing them from, he realized they were holding him in their large arms. making him feel utterly tiny… but safe. The monster shouldn’t have been familiar, yet somehow he knew exactly who she was.

“Oh thank goodness…” She sighed with relief before smiling down at him. “I was starting to worry you may not wake up!”

He just stared up at her for a few moments, mind awhirl with questions he was too tired to focus on. But he eventually managed a weak smile.

“heh… well this is new.” Was all he could think to say, thinking aloud more than anything.

He had been expecting his brother. Surely that was who must have greeted him all the other times he’d ended up here. It only made sense. But thinking about it too much would only add a skullache to all the other aches consuming him. So he didn’t bother to question it. Worrying about the logistics of what happened in this place didn’t have much of a point.

Besides… he’d be lying if he denied seeing her didn’t stir the first positive feelings he’d felt in… gosh… how long had it been since he’d saw Papyrus’ scarf half buried in the snow at the outskirts of Snowdin? Whatever… if she was here, he must be here too.

“Greetings, my friend.” She said warmly, though her eyes were still noticeably sad. “It is I, Toriel. I know you may not recognize me, but my voice may sound familiar to you, does it not?”

“yah. nice to see you tori.” He said, finding the words oddly natural.

She blinked in surprise at that, tilting her head a bit in a way he couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Did... did you already-?” She began to question, but he interrupted her with a few shaky coughs.

“heh, don’t worry about it.” He rasped once he could speak again. “i just started connecting the dots over time, i guess.”

It was not a full lie, but not a full truth. He knew that. Though in that moment, he couldn’t have put into words just why that was. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. Not here.

She frowned, as though upset with her past self for potentially giving away her true identity unbidden. But her attention was drawn back to him as he stiffened up and winced from another wave of pain.

As much as he wanted to keep focused on her, the wound he carried that nearly split him from shoulder to pelvis was pretty darn good at demanding his attention. He squeezed the front of his shirt tighter, feeling that it was still soaked. When he shakily lifted his free hand in front of his face, he could see the splashes of dark red staining his mitten.

For some reason it made him want to laugh, but he didn’t know why.

“Do not worry, it stops hurting after a little while.” She assured him softly, giving his arm a consoling rub.

She turned her head a bit then so he could more easily see the scar on her face. A faded, but still noticeable remnant of a gash that stretched from her cheek up to under her right eye.

His breathing went funny for a moment, as something akin to a mix of nausea and anger briefly bubbled up inside him. But it wasn’t long before he forced his weary grin back into place with practiced ease.

“good to know.” He rasped, wheezing out a chuckle. “was worried i might end up as half the skeleton i used to be.”

As if on cue, she laughed that brilliant laugh of hers. The kind that all but left her breathless. And though it was strained with the heavier emotions no doubt pressing down on her, it caused his grin to grow so much it made his cheekbones hurt.

He’d missed this. He did the best to avoid chuckling in turn though, as the action would no doubt further aggravate the gaping slash through his ribs.

Once she had calmed down and returned her ruby red gaze back to him, he shook off his ruined mitten, lifted his trembling free hand to her, and gave the best smile he could manage.

“the names… sans.” He croaked out. “sans the skeleton.”

As usual, he slipped the whoopee cushion he always kept in his hoodie sleeve up into his hand. Maybe the red stains all over it kind of ruined the effect, but he saw no sense in spoiling his routine if he could manage it.

The sound of artificial flatulence sounded somehow more hilarious when echoing through an ethereal void, he found.

She burst into laughter again, and his soul felt light.

...

Shortly after, he found himself being carried by Toriel down some winding, faintly glowing path through the darkness. Everywhere her paws stepped, the “ground” glowed for a few moments in the shape of her footprint before fading away. It reminded him faintly of waterfall, if waterfall also had a bunch of sparkling stardust floating around.

At the end of the path, in what could maybe be called “the distance”, he could see a place that was glowing far brighter, like a city floating in the middle of a pitch black sea. He tried not to look at it, it only made a new pain lash out at his soul.

Instead he looked back up at Toriel, and found that she had been looking down at him too. She played it off and returned her gaze to their destination, but Sans could see the conflicted emotions in her eyes. He debated staying silent, maybe just closing his eyes until whatever came next, but the words seemed to tumble out of him without his permission.

“so... i figure you must of seen what happened, huh?” He asked quietly, feeling the dulling pain of his wound thrumming beneath his phalanges.

Her breathing stalled and she momentarily struggled to look at him. The soft scarlet of her eyes was awash with what he was worried he may see there, guilt.

“Yes… we all did.” She admitted, holding him a little closer and swallowing hard. “Y-you… you fought bravely, my friend. Please just rest now.”

In a move that was all too familiar to him, she worked a smile back onto her face and quickly changed the subject.

“Everyone is waiting for you. Your brother included. Not too far from here.” She said, motioning towards the bright place in the distance. “He is a wonderful monster, so cheery and kind hearted despite all that has happened. I can see why you spoke so highly of him.”

His eyelights must have given away the inner surge of emotions he felt at the mention of his brother, as she added to her statement quickly.

“Oh, he wanted to be the one to come get you of course…” She assured him. “But it seems that since I am among those who have been here the longest, it is easier for me to traverse this place. I… I do not fully understand it myself yet.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, seeing the logic in what she was saying and not bothering to question it further. He was in no shape to imagine how such things worked here, though there was some small part of him that still held that interest regardless. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn't help but think for a moment about how the other monsters must of reacted to Toriel, their long lost queen, suddenly reappearing to them in this place. Given the circumstances... if they knew all that had led to this... it was easy to imagine the majority of them would be less then pleased to see her.

Perhaps there was more to the fact she'd come to meet him alone than it seemed. If that was the case, and even if it wasn't, he figured the best thing he could do for her was try to keep her smiling.

“what, you weren’t just eager to see me?” He teased, wheezing out a chuckle despite his best efforts when she gave him a playful glare for it. It left his ribs freshly aching, but it was worth it.

“Well, I am very happy to finally meet you in person, my friend.” She said upon regaining her smile. “Just as I was happy to meet your brother and the others… We all have so much to talk about… and all the time in the world now to get to know one another.”

Just as quickly as it had come, her smile faltered again, and he could feel the conflicted emotions from her powerful soul radiate off her. She swallowed hard and let out a shaky sigh.

“I know… it is difficult to feel anything truly positive after all that has happened.” She said, voice noticeably trembling. “But at least… it is over now, and we will all be together. Just try to remember that.”

Sans couldn't be sure if she was really talking to him, or herself with that last bit. In any case, she kept walking, a bit faster than before. She kept her eyes on the path ahead, but he just kept his gaze fixed on her.

“right…” He responded quietly, trepidation beginning to wind tighter around his soul.

He couldn’t just keep ignoring it. No matter how much he tried to avoid the thought, it was growing like a weed and inevitably kept choking out any opposing ones.

He should keep his mouth shut. He shouldn’t say anything. He should just go to sleep and let it happen. He should spare her from this. But...

His gaze met hers again, and he felt like his soul was being squeezed.

“tori… listen…”

The words had barely left him before they both were hit by a powerful wave of... something. Strong enough to make Toriel stop in her tracks and look around in alarm. Sans didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew what it meant. It felt like all the vitality he had left drained from him in that moment.

“What on earth was that?” Toriel asked quietly, more to herself it seemed.

“nothing good.” Sans replied, internally wincing a bit as she looked down at him in surprise.

Her gaze silently demanded to know what he meant, fear creeping bit by bit into her expression. He sighed in defeat, knowing there was no backing out of it now. He could already feel the tips of his phalanges going numb, and hear a dull whine in the far distance.

“tori, we… we aren’t gonna make it back to the others.” He said, shutting his sockets briefly.

Toriel stiffened, and he could feel the faint prick of her claws against him as they slid out of their own accord.

“Wh-what?” She stammered, clearly hoping he was setting up a joke somehow. “What do you mean?”

The hollow expression on his face no doubt banished any hope she had that this was some poor excuse for humor on his part. Even though her eyes were painful to look at then, he did his best to keep his wits long enough to explain what he could.

“tori... the stuff with the human… it goes beyond just what they did to us.” He said, ignoring the now creeping numbness in his phalanges. “they... they are causing something a lot worse to happen… i dunno what it is. but i’m pretty sure it’s happened before. i’ve uh… seen the data.”

There was no time to explain that last part, and it reminded him too much of his encounter with the kid anyway. He had to get to the point.

“for some reason… everything disappears at the end of this. and i do mean… everything.”

Toriel just stared at him in silence, mouth opening and closing but not finding any words. He could tell she wanted to argue, but surely she was feeling what was coming just as much as he did. And just as it seemed she may finally reply, another wave, stronger than the last nearly knocked her off her feet.

She staggered, clutching him tightly in an effort not to drop him. Once the initial shock had passed, her gaze quickly snapped to the lights in the distance. Sans didn’t have to look to know they’d be flickering, feeling the effects of what was coming as well. The sparkling bits of stardust around them were also winking out one by one, leaving them in further darkness every moment. It wouldn’t be long now.

It was then that it became clear Toriel wasn’t going to question things further. She didn’t fully understand, but she really didn’t need to. The idea had sunk in, as he could sense the weight of it slowly taking hold of her. Despite all her fur keeping her warm from the chill of this place, she began shivering lightly.

“i’m sorry.” He murmured without thinking, resisting a far harsher shudder of his own. “this is what happens when people like me take it easy.”

He didn’t expect a reply to that. If anything he expected anger from her, as she realized just what his failure to stop the human had truly meant. But instead it was that guilt he’d seen from her before that made itself known.

“Please, you must not blame yourself.” She implored in a dazed tone. “You... you fought so hard to stop them in the end… If anything… I am to blame for asking you to protect them…”

He closed his sockets with a soft sigh at that, all while feeling the numbness had consumed his hands and feet entirely. He considered arguing with her further, insisting his lack of earlier action against the kid far outweighed her wanting to give them a chance. But there was just no time. There were better things to focus on in what little they had.

“well... for what it’s worth… i think your heart was in the right place, y’know?” He assured her, resting the side of his skull against her slightly. “you couldn’t have known. and i doubt the other humans were anywhere near as bad as this one, otherwise you wouldn’t have given this one a chance in the first place.”

He knew he couldn’t free her of her own guilt no more than she could free him of his. But he didn’t want her last thoughts to be those of self hatred. Not if he could help it anyway.

He tried to think of some last knock knock joke, knowing it was the only real sort of comfort he could reliably offer her. Pathetic as that was. But the increasing signs of their certain doom’s rapid approach all around them kind of made it hard to come up with any decent material.

It was her who ended up speaking again first, in a surprisingly calm tone all things considered.

“Then... this is it?” She asked, her eyes growing hazy. “Why then… why were we brought here? I..."

She turned her head away, stifling what sounded like a sob.

"I never was even able... to find my children..." She croaked out, the words heavy with despair. "Wh-what was the point of any of this..?"

It was a question he could never answer. It was unlikely anyone really could. But she knew that. The question was rhetorical, but he played along anyway. If only to keep from giving into the icy fear that wanted so badly to ensnare him.

“i wish i knew...” He replied weakly, breath hitching a bit. “guess it’s just... one last dance before the curtain call.”

He meant it to be that last twinge of humor he wanted to get out. But the strain in his voice robbed it of any joviality, making it humorous in a different way perhaps, but not how he intended. Maybe if his funny bone hadn’t just gone numb as well, it would have been better.

Toriel didn’t reply for a long moment, staring at where the bright lights in the distance had once been. Now they were so dull, they were barely visible amongst the sea of black. He struggled not to think of his brother and the others, frightened and having no idea of the secondary and final fate that was bearing down on them. Or perhaps that had already claimed them.

Instead Toriel’s voice brought his wavering focus back to her, as she subtly tightened her grip on him. Her face remained impressively stoic as she spoke, even as a few tears silently spilled from her eyes.

“Will I… ever see you again, my friend?” She asked softly, looking down at him as though trying to memorize every element of his face.

The question was so raw, he wondered if she’d even meant to speak it aloud. His soul got all tight in his ribcage, and he felt what may have been long withheld tears of his own wanting to well up in his sockets. But he kept his usual smile in place all the same. If only for her sake.

Part of him wanted to lie again, to give her some last comfort before the end, but for some reason… he found he just couldn’t. Not with her looking at him like that.

“can’t know that for sure.” He admitted, giving a small shake of his skull. “we don’t have any say in what comes next. but... there’s a possibility that after everything’s gone, things might... start anew... reset, y’know?”

All of his limbs had gone numb now, and his vision blurred to the point he could no longer make out her features. Whether that was from tears or from the world’s imminent destruction, he didn’t know.

“you can be sure if we end up back at the start of all this...” He gave her a wink. “i’ll come knocking again as always.”

Those statements surely must have confused her, but the sentiment seemed to be enough that he could feel that she’d stopped trembling, and a flicker of warmer emotion emanated from her soul. Like a spark in the ever growing darkness.

“Perhaps then… there is at least a chance things will be better next time.” She said quietly, and he felt her chin rest upon the top of his skull as she held him close.

He closed his sockets and pressed a little closer to her in return, feeling his awareness starting to steadily slip away.

As much as he would have liked to, he couldn’t share her optimism. Not after this. But she spoke with that same integrity that had made him soften enough that day at the Ruin’s door to break his personal rule against making promises. And just like back then, despite everything, she was getting to him again.

As foolish as it was, he allowed himself to hold on to that possibility as the last wave hit, eradicating everything in their world along with it.

“yah… maybe next time.”

#soriel #sorielweek #sorielweek2020 #sans #toriel #undertale #my art #my fic #blood tw #angst #no mercy run

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hollyxqx · 4 years

Text

SHE’S THE ONE // SHOWNU

↪ PAIRING: Reader / Shownu ↪ GENRE: smut > fluff > f2l ↪ WORD COUNT: 7.3k ↪ SUMMARY: Hyunwoo has worked for your family for almost a year now, maintaining the gardens and pool. He’s not as rich as you are, he’s working class and he knows it but it doesn’t stop either of you striking up an unlikely relationship. [inspired by this song]

↪ WARNINGS: lots of smut, dirty talk, rough sex but nothing crazy bc shownu is a sweetheart, total self indulgent filth everyone

a/n: the idea of gardener!shownu came from this story. I just wanted to give the author some credit for inspiring me, so you should read that story if the idea appealed as much to you as me. other than the fact that shownu is a gardener for a rich OC the stories are nothing alike, fyi. this was meant to be A LOT shorter but i couldn’t help myself, srry.

ALL ABOUT LUV SERIES

Hyunwoo can feel your eyes on him as he paints the new patio furniture, outside in the glaring hot summer sun. It's touching on thirty degrees Celsius and he can feel beads of sweat trickling from his nape, running down the back of his white vest as he works. He's thankful he remembered his cap today, not only does it shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun but it enables him to sneak an occasional glance at you.

The day you first met he remembers thinking two things. One; oh my god, she's pretty and two; I can't do anything about it. You were the bosses daughter and he needed this job. Unlike you Hyunwoo was not born into a life of wealth and luxury. His hands were his means to a living, not shy to hard work.

He didn't know what your father did exactly to earn the estate, from the other staff he'd heard the title but it was so long and self-important Hyunwoo failed to remember it. Some kind of marketing, analytical something or other. You didn't have to be a humble labourer to know that meant money.

The mother didn't work. She didn't need to. Hyunwoo only ever saw her shopping, having brunch, shopping some more and doing yoga with someone he highly doubted was just her yoga instructor, unless yoga meant fondling the tan 23 year old instructor three times a week. The whole world was so alien and unfamiliar to him, he almost felt like a spectator at times.

You, however. You were different. That fact was deduced very quickly. After only a few weeks of getting to know you it became apparent that you weren't like the rest of your family. If he didn't know any better he sensed some resentment on your part even though the you never explicitly said the words out loud.

It was in what was unspoken that clued him in - the disdainful sighs when your mother had a cocktail at 10am, the way you went quiet whenever your father was mentioned, the fact that you helped out the staff when you didn't have to. Many a time he saw you washing dishes with the maid. Only when your parents weren't around though, he knew they would scold you if they caught you in the act.

So, he didn't mind the fact that you were staring. You were a hot girl, who appeared nice enough, and who found him attractive, what wouldn't he like about that? Hyunwoo hadn't had a girlfriend in nearly two years, much of his time spent working to afford college, so the attention you sent his way felt nice. Even if he couldn't act upon it, he could enjoy it.

"Um, Hyunwoo?" Your voice draws his focus from his work and he squints up at you in the sunlight. You're wearing that navy blue bikini he's seen plenty of times before and denim shorts. An image he knows will be swirling in his thoughts for the rest of the day, whether he wants it to or not. "Would you like some lunch?"

He's overdue a break anyway, and frankly any excuse to get away from the midday sun before his skin starts to burn is good enough for him. "Sure." He accepts, carefully putting his tools away. He sets them in the shade, wiping at his sweaty forehead with the t-shirt he removed earlier.

"Come eat inside, there's aircon." You inform him and he follows you indoors. Inside the kitchen he's surprised to find a somewhat elaborate spread of fruit, sandwiches and salad atop the island that sits in the middle of the room. He immediately goes to the sink to wash up as you get some plates.

"Ana outdid herself. It looks great." He mumbles as he dries his hands. Ana was the head housekeeper, worked there the longest and she was well known as the best cook in the home.

"Oh, I did this." You blush adorably and he pauses for a second. "I thought you might be hungry. I know I am."

"You made all this for me?" He asks, a little dumbfounded. He can't quite believe you'd go to all this trouble for the gardener. It only further cemented your nice nature for him.

"Yeah." You reply shyly, smiling as you pour both of you some icy water. "I enjoy cooking. Especially for others."

Hyunwoo can't help but watch you for a moment as you load your plate up with food, biting back a smile when you take his plate and do the same. "Thank you." He says gently as he takes the food from you. You share a look and he swears his heart stills for a moment.

***

It doesn't take long until eating together becomes a routine. You're home from college for the summer, you tell him one Friday lunchtime, this time over some of the best steak he's ever eaten. From what he can gather you adore the college you attend, your entire face lights up animatedly when you speak about it. Part of him suspects it's because you're away from the clutches of your family.

"I really want to get a job this summer, maybe even volunteer." You tell him as you sit opposite the kitchen island once more. "The parents aren't so thrilled about that. My mom wants me to go to Europe with her. Dad is obviously working."

"Europe sounds incredible." He offers.

"I've been before." You sigh. Hyunwoo can't help but find it bizarre that you're so unenthusiastic about a potential overseas trip. He's never even been abroad. "The rest of my class are working or interning. I wish I could too."

He knows it's ridiculous to feel sorry for the poor little rich girl who has literally everything but he can't help it. He might not be wealthy but he knows all too well what it's like to feel like an outsider and wanting nothing more than to just be like everyone else. Albeit for different reasons. You were sweet, his empathy felt deserved.

"You should do it." He tells you sincerely. "Your parents can't exactly kidnap you and take you to Europe can they?"

"You'd be surprised." You laugh, drly. "Who knows what they're capable of."

He doesn't know how to respond, so he's silent as you finish you meal. As nice as it would be to have more money than sense, at least he has freedom.

***

The first time you kiss is at the end of the summer.

Hyunwoo doesn't anticipate it happening and is unprepared. It wasn't the best kiss he's ever had given it's surprising nature, your teeth briefly clacked, but it was nice nonetheless. The sun is setting when you corner him around the back of the pool house, hidden from view. You ask him some question about him minding if you go for a late night swim (he never has and you've never needed his permission) - he knows it is an excuse.

There's a moment of hesitation, a sweet thank you falls from your lips and before he knows it your mouths are connected. Body curled in to him, tongue in his mouth he can't help but kiss back. You walk away before he can barely register what's happened.

***

Autumn is creeping it's way on to the landscape when the second kiss happens.

It's almost as if you've forgotten the first one, since you've never brought it up. Hyunwoo doesn't either, mostly assuming it was just a momentary impulse moment, mostly not wanting to make anything awkward with you. He's still enjoying the lunches you're preparing for him and doesn't want them to stop.

The working day is coming to a close for him. He's a lot sweaty and a little dirty when your paths cross. Your voice startles him as he's winding up the garden hose. "Hi Hyunwoo."

"Hi." His hands continue on autopilot until the work is done.

"I'm going back to school tomorrow." He knew that, gossip among the staff, but he stays silent, nodding as if it's brand new information. "I just wanted to say bye. Until next summer I guess."

"Bye." He says softly, earning him a tiny laugh from you. "I know you will be happier there than here."

"I'll miss those lunches though."

He's surprised and hope it doesn't read too blatantly. "Me too. I'm going to have to go back to eating turkey sandwhiches or ramyeon. Alone."

"Are you working here during the winter?" You ask.

"Yeah, just less frequently. Once every two weeks." He's got another job as a waiter in a slightly posher-than-he's-used-to restaurant but he doesn't tell you that. You probably won't care too much about him when you're not here.

"Maybe I'll see you at Christmas break." You hum. He offers a polite agreement. "You weren't...mad that I kissed you?"

That he didn't expect, as far as he was concerned you had swept that off the table. "No, I wasn't. I liked it."

"I liked it too."

The air changes and he somehow just senses it, just feels it in his bones what's going to happen next. You're so close to him, licking your lips like that and he doesn't miss how your eyes flit to his own mouth. This time Hyunwoo closes the ga with the wave of confidence that surges.

This kiss is much better than the first one, an air of desperation of it being the last time hangs thickly. Momentarily forgetting he's just worked a hard day of manual labour and isn't necessarily the cleanest he pulls your body against his anyway. One hand on your waist, the other grasping you between your shoulder blades.

You're the one to deepen the kiss and he swears he hears the tiniest moan over the thrumming in his ears. A hand slides down his muscular chest and fists his shirt. "Hyunwoo." You say breathlessly. It's not a question because your lips are back on his again.

His knees hit the back of a sun lounger, unsure of who was pulling and pushing who. He sits down and tugs you on to him, a knee on either side resting comfortably on his lap. This is not a good idea, he knows it but that part of his brain that's rational is loosing blood supply when you grind your hips against his. He's growing hard and it would be embarrassingly quickly if you weren't whimpering atop of him, loosing yourself in the moment too.

You shouldn't have sex. Out in the open like this. You shouldn't have sex at all, he works for you. Hyunwoo is trying to wrack his brains to remember who is home and who's not. The thought evaporates when you bite his bottom lip and tug at the nape of his hair. "You're so fucking hot Hyunwoo."

He's never heard you swear before, always assumed you weren't into such dirty language. His brain instantly ignites at the idea of you saying the dirtiest things he could imagine to him. It's something he's definitely thought about prior. He groans.

"So are you." He gets out in between kisses. Instinctively his hand is sliding up your cold thighs, the dress you're wearing not entirely weather appropriate for the cooling summer air. He grips your ass with a squeeze.

"I've wanted to kiss you so badly since the day we met." You admit through a breathy laugh. Even in the diminishing light he notices your cheeks flush a little. He's a little lost for words at the moment otherwise he'd tell you that he's felt the exact same way.

"Yeah?" Is all he manages to get out in an exhale.

"Mmhmm," You nod, raking your hands all over his chest. "And so much more."

Before he can respond you're kissing again. He wants to know what more means and he wants to know so badly it's making his cock ache. He needs it, so he shifts you on to your back, skirt rising up and exposing your panties. Even the sight of that is something he never thought he'd see in his wildest dreams. You were so untouchable just weeks ago and know you were underneath him at his mercy.

"I'd do anything you want me to." He murmurs in your ear, a knee separating your thighs for him as he hovers over you. "You're so pretty."

"What if I wanted you to touch me?" You ask.

"I am touching you." He can't help but smirk.

"Touch me like this."

You take his hand and run it over your clothed centre where he grazes a knuckle over your folds. At the contact the material presses into your wetness and he can't believe he did that. You're wet. For him. He rubs his hand up and down a few times and the noise that you elicit is sinful.

He looks up at you for approval as he slides your underwear slowly down your thighs. Your finally bare for him and he can't help it, too lost in the moment, he places a kiss on your mound, tongue sneaking between your lower lips for a second. It makes you gasp.

"God, like this - " He hangs his head for a second between your thighs, overwhelmed. "Like this you're perfect. Even if you told me to stop now the sight of you like this is, fuck, a wet dream." His cheek nuzzles your inner thigh where he places another wet kiss.

"Would this make it better?" You tease, nimble fingers unbuttoning your dress so your tits are exposed. His mouth hangs open as he nods, unable to eloquently articulate how fucking good you look and how hard he's trying to commit this to memory.

Nothing is said but he knows what to do, sitting up a little and kissing your breasts. He begins to stroke between your legs as he devours your tits. "Is this the right spot? Show me." He whispers against your skin.

"Do it like this," You guide his hand to the exact right place you want to be touched, moaning when he reaches it. "Fuck, Hyunwoo, just like that." You whine.

He can feel his dick leaking at that. Not only did you swear, you whined his name. He sucks on your nipple as your hips begin to work in tandem with his hands. "You want my fingers in you too? Hmm?" He asks.

"Yes, yeah - oh fuck - yes."

You're wet enough that he slides two in right away. He can only imagine in his mind how lewd this scene must look from an outsiders perspective, hand buried in your pussy. Starting off slow to gauge your reaction he sets what he hopes is the perfect pace, examining every detail on your beautiful face as your eyes flutter shut. You're chewing on your bottom lip, arching your back and falling apart in just the right way.

It's so much, touching you like this. "Yeah?" He manages to husk.

He's rewarded with a loud moan and a roll of your hips in time with his fingers. "Would you - ahh, would you fuck me if I asked?" You pant.

He didn't expect the question, and ruts his hips against your leg involuntarily with a groan into your skin. "Ugh, yeah. Yeah, I would."

"Here?"

"Here?" He repeats in surprise, pulling back to see if you really mean it. He wonders if you maybe have a thing for getting caught, or maybe even watched. God. "Really? You really want that?"

"Or we could fuck in the pool house. It's up to you." You laugh, biting your tongue with a grin. His hand hasn't stopped moving this entire time, even if he has slowed down. The thought of fucking you out here is hot but he can't risk it. What if someone caught him? That's his income gone.

"Take me to the poolhouse." He kisses you, discreetly wiping your wetness off on his denim thigh. It's hard to stop when he wants to see you cum so desperately. You grin and don't even bother to fix your half open dress before taking him by the hand. Both of you stumble excitedly across the garden, him pressed up against your back. He can't stop his hands roaming your body.

The poolhouse is nicer than any house Hyunwoo has ever lived in. What else did he expect. You know the way so he lets you lead him to the bedroom. You don't even bother with the light, tumbling onto the plush mattress, tangling together the instant you're able.

You yank off his shirt. "I'm a little sweaty." He laughs once he's topless.

"I don't care. Is it weird that I kind of like it?"

"Probably." He kisses you again while he removes your dress entirely. "I kind of get the feeling you're into lots of weird things."

"Define weird." You breathe, kicking off the remnants of your panties. His denim and boxers follow.

"Kinky."

"One person's kinky is another's boring Tuesday night."

"I can't wait to find out." He really can't. You're naked beneath him now and he's half expecting this to be a dream. He hovers over you and loves the way you shudder when his bare cock brushes against your thigh. You whine and reach for it with both hands, giving him a few lazy strokes. If your hands are this warm and soft he can't even imagine how good your cunt is going to feel.

He fucks into your fist a few times because it feels so good. "I fucking need you inside me, Hyunwoo. Please put your cock in me. Stretch me open and make me cry because it feels so good."

Shit, he loves your dirty mouth.

The blunt head of his cock drags through your wet pussy a few times to make the glide of him entering just that bit better. He presses in slowly, watching with wide eyes as your cunt swallows him whole. You keen as you fist the sheets. Then he's buried to the hilt and has to still for a few moments, or risk cumming quickly and embarrassing himself.

Before he beings thrusting he pushes both your legs a little wider apart. "Please." You beg and he listens, rocking his hips to meet yours. "Yes, oh - fuck yes." You breathe as he moves.

"I want you to cum." He husks into your ear. "How can I make you cum around my cock huh?"

"Touch my clit and don't stop moving like this."

He leans a little heavier on one arm so he can access your swollen clit with his right hand. Remembering what you told him earlier he gets to work. There's not much more said as he fucks you, mainly just breathy gasps and groans escaping both of you.

He loves that you tell him when you're about to cum. He's been with girls before who never said anything and he always found it hot when they did. He cums shortly after you, pulling out and shooting his load on your stomach.

The way you look, plump bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed and covered in the evidence of his orgasm, well. He doesn't think he's ever seen anything sexier.

***

He's done it before. Fucked girls and had no further contact with them again. But it feels weird with you because he works for you. Has to talk to the people in your life frequently but has no idea about you. Phone numbers were not exactly exchanged and he's not really interested in social media. It complicates things, and he prefers simple.

The worst part about it is he can't even ask about you. It's odd if he shows too much interest in you. None of the household were particularly aware that a minor friendship even existed between you at one time.

Hyunwoo's not sure if he wants to know. He assumes you're happy and that's really all he can logically come up with. You'd never discussed anything extremely personal with him over your little lunch dates and he'd never pressed you on it. He wonders if you'll have a boyfriend by Christmas time when you're home again.

He hopes not.

***

He starts night classes late September now that he can afford to. His scrimping and saving allowing him to fund the business management course he takes. It's not much and it's not exactly a degree from some prestigious university but he learns a lot and best of all, he can continue working during the day.

After all, he has rent and bills to pay. Hyunwoo wants to run his own business one day and even if it takes years he's determined it will be worth it. His parents own a small cafe but neither of them went to college of any sort and they struggle often. His plan is to do it smart. Maybe even franchise his parents business.

By November he's promoted to host at the restaurant. It's fantastic for him because he earns enough now that money isn't on his mind constantly. When he's in the supermarket he doesn't have to carefully calculate as he shops. The items simply get tossed in the basket it without a thought and it feels good.

Life is good; steady. Sometimes he catches himself singing to himself as he works in the garden of your house like he's in a freaking disney movie.

He meets a girl at college whom he gets on well with. She's nice, quite pretty and they go on a few dates. They end up having sex in his car after the third one and it's okay, not great. He finds himself thinking about you after he's dropped her off, wondering if you're doing the same thing. Maybe you were, that's what university life was all about, he supposed. Experimenting, having fun, finding yourself.

Suddenly he feels very insignificant. Did you ever think of him? That night you spent together you'd confessed you had, but there were months and thousands of miles of distance between you now. You were the beautiful, upper class rich girl and he worked two jobs whilst going to a community college.

Of course you weren't thinking of him.

***

Hyunwoo's last day of work before Christmas lands him at your house. He'd overheard from Ana that you were arriving very early the next morning, which meant he wouldn't be there when you were, and not knowing when you returned to school caused a slight air of disappoint to settle around him as he worked.

The weather restricts what he's capable of, so it's a few weeks longer than usual before he can return and he works a little later into the evening than normal. By the time he finishes the sun has set and the cold air is nipping at his cheeks, turning them pink.

He tidies his gardening equipment and heads inside to tell Ana he's leaving. She wishes him Merry Christmas and pulls him into a hug that colours his cheeks even more. "Oh! Hyunwoo?" She asks as he's at the door, ready to go home. He turns expectantly. "Can you leave me your phone number? I'm unsure what date Mr Kim wants you back in the new year." She smiles.

"Oh," says Hyunwoo dumbly. "Don't you have it already? I'm sure I gave it to you when I first started."

"This is embarrassing," Ana laughs. "My son bought me a phone. I can't use it for the life of me and I accidentally deleted everything a few days ago. I don't even know how I did it! I'm too old for modern technology, I think."

Hyunwoo smiles warmly at her. It's exactly the kind of thing his own mother would do and he feels a rush of affection. "Of course I can leave you it. If you need any help with your phone, I can do that too. I'm a pro at it."

He scribbles the digits on the post-its next to the phone and goes home for the night.

***

The text is sent on New Years Eve (technically New Years Day) but Hyunwoo only reads it when he wakes at 2pm, nursing a rather brutal hangover. He'd celebrated perhaps a little too hard with Minhyuk and the boys and barely even remembers going to bed. He rubs his tired eyes and re-reads the message several times.

from : unknown number happy new year hyunwoo!!! Hope your xmas was goood - y/n

from : unknown number ps - stole your num from ana I asked where you were and sshe said i missed y5tou

He chuckles at the typos, assuming there must have been some alcohol involved with the sending of these messages. Hyunwoo of course replies.

from : hyunwoo happy new year too lady hows xmas break?

from : y/n good boring cant wait to go back to school Im nursing a hangover from heeeellllll

from : hyunwoo haha i gifrued figured* me too tbh, i'll be hiding from the world today

He spends the rest of the day lazing in bed and occasionally swapping texts with you. The conversation is light, like acquaintances catching up, which is what he supposes you are. He can't deny that it's nice to hear from you. It's even nicer that you think of him when you're drunk. Drunk thoughts speak that of a sober mind.

He wants to see you but unfortunately doesn't get to. You're back at school by the time he has returned to work.

***

The girl from college is persistent, he'll give her that. There's nothing wrong with Kia, other than the fact that she's a little too eager than what Hyunwoo is usually used to but he accepts it regardless. Somehow he finds himself sleeping with her on a regular basis. It's a little selfish of him which he knows. But lately he's been feeling lonely, overworked, and she gives him all the attention he could ever ask for with very little effort on his part.

The sex improves since the first time so it becomes a thing. He tries not to look too deeply into it. By March they've been hooking up for well over a month.

He doesn't tell her about you. Not that that he's trying to hide anything per say; he just doesn't feel it's necessary. Especially because the conversations that he shares with you are far more interesting, now that he texts with you semi-frequently. Kia doesn't need to know about every single friend of his, he rationalizes.

Although he makes a distinct effort not to text you when he's with her.

You make him laugh. Like, really laugh. So much so that you rival Minhyuk's spot in his life. When you're away from your family you're a different person. Still you, but the version of you that's a little brighter, a little happier, and much more unrestrained than you are at home.

Even captured in the selfies you send you radiate more. He doesn't tell you (or anyone for that matter, he'd rather be caught dead) but he's been saving every image.

You tell him about your life in greater detail. He finds out that you spent Christmas with Ana and her family, since your father worked and your mom seeks warmer weather at that time of the year. It makes his heart ache slightly, he always has a wonderful day with his parents and a life without that seems a little sad. He's happy you have at least some family in Ana.

Hyunwoo cares. His thoughts drift to you often these days, more notably when he's working at your house. He can't even look at the poolhouse or the sun loungers without having flashbacks of you on your back for him. God, he wants to do it again. The need grows more and more the longer you talk.

When you phone him one night late night, practically purring the words, "I've been thinking about how we almost fucked in the garden." He knows it's over for him. He listens to you make yourself cum over the phone there and then and promises you, he'll have your body again as soon as he's able.

***

The next time you see each other in person it's April. Seven whole months since you'd fucked. He's finishing work when you appear, almost coyly hovering around the back entrance of the main house. He suspects you've waited for him. Hyunwoo grins reflexively when your eyes meet.

"Hey, you." You smile widely, tucking hair behind your ear.

"Hey lady."

Both silent for a few moments, simply taking each other in. Obviously he's seen pictures of you but the real thing is so much better. Your hair is longer, darker and your makeup is different but he still thinks you look gorgeous. A wave of confidence takes Hyunwoo.

"Want to hang out?" He asks before any inane small talk can ruin the moment. He knows how you are, you spoke this morning. You nod excitedly.

"I was hoping you'd ask." You tell him.

He's not ashamed of the car he drives, but he is when he knows you'll be in it. He's seen what occupies the twelve car garage. The kind of cars he would dream about as a young boy, and the worst part about all of it is they rarely get driven. To him that's the definition of insanity.

The back passenger window doesn't work on the old jeep and the leather is ripped on the drivers headrest but Hyunwoo takes care of it, so it drives fine. It gets him where he needs to go, so he's unbothered by the appearance. In a perfect world he'd drive you in something flashy.

You say nothing about the lack of extravagance, you hop inside with a beautiful smile. He likes that about you.

The plan is to go for dinner but somehow you never make it, ending up at Hyunwoo's modest apartment. It's a simple one bed with a tiny kitchenette. It's not much but he's worked hard to keep it.

"This reminds me of my dorm!" You laugh when you're inside. He incorrectly makes the assumption that you're insulting it but you reassure him. "It feels more like home than my parents house." You say gingerly with a touch to his arm.

His response is to kiss you and hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. From the many phone sex sessions that have transpired between you, he's learned alot about what you like in the bedroom. He spanks your ass check with a slap, hard enough to sting. You audibly hiss.

You're in a dress again and he thinks it's intention was purposeful so he could have faster access to your most intimate parts. In no time at all you're pinned on his bed, both hands above your head held there by his own larger palm. The other is pushing your panties to the side, giving access to his bare dick.

Fuck me fuck fuck me, you chant, and he does. You look like such a mess for him, dress pushed up, hair fanned out across the pillow. You guide his hand around your throat, forcing him to choke you. He almost cums when your gasping breath tells him to spit in your mouth.

When you touch your clit and cum he does as well. He couldn't hold off even if he tried.

He kisses you softly, in stark contrast to how rough you had just encouraged him to be; then you whisper, "I missed you."

***

He spends two complete days in bed with you. Kia calls him several times but he never picks up. You give him a curious glance when he turns the phone face down each time, yet you say nothing.

The only time you leave his apartment is to get food. Hyunwoo holds your hand in the supermarket without thinking about it, he just wanted to touch you. You pay for the entire shopping and he wishes you didn't but he supposes you don't think about these things in the same manner as he does.

When you leave (and it's only because he's working at the restaurant and had no choice but to part ways) he drives you home and watches the entire way as you walk up the drive, wishing he could have you back already, hoping there's not some college boy miles away thinking the same thing.

***

It's only five days later when he's scheduled back to work for your family. He's more than a little distracted after seeing you through the kitchen window. A small, discrete wave from you to acknowledge his presence. He knows there's not much time left before you're due back at school for the last term before summer.

The familiar tradition of lunching together is shared outside today. Pleasant sunshine basks down on you and Hyunwoo can't stop looking at you even as he eats the food you've prepared. "What?" You ask with a shy laugh. "Is there something on my face?"

"I just like looking at ya." He laughs and your cheeks tinge adorably. How can you be so cute yet so dirty? It's like he has the best of both worlds with you at times. The contrast drives him wild at times.

"Can we spend some more time together before I go back to school?" You ask him. For a moment he can't focus because you're eating a strawberry and all he can think about is his dick in your mouth. "Hyunwoo?"

"Yeah, course." He responds, blinking a few times. "Come over tonight?"

He wonders what the household think when you leave together at the end of the day. Surely they would not approve of this? A sad thought enters his mind; it's possible your family are too self absorbed to notice, let alone care. Ana however gives the two of you a friendly knowing smirk when you share your goodbyes.

Hyunwoo ends up making a stopover at the beach, a change of heart hitting him as he drove in the setting sunlight. There's a certain spot he started visiting when he first moved out and was overwhelmed by the stress and cost of being an adult in this world. He's never taken anyone there but he thinks (hopes) you'll like it as much as he does.

"We're at the beach." It's not so much of a question as a statement and you give him a confused look.

"Come on." Is the only instruction he gives you, clambering out of the jeep.

The ten minute walk from the car to very end of the beach is passed in comfortable silence. There's a bit of climbing involved up some rocks and a slightly steep sandy slope. Hyunwoo goes first so he can assist you up too. This secluded part of the beach is peaceful and he's watched many a sunset here.

You join him in the sand when he sits, resting your head on his shoulder. "Why did you bring me here?"

"It's one of my favourite places and I wanted to share it with you." He doesn't need to explain any further. You nod.

"Thank you."

He watches the sunset with his arm around your shoulders. When it's almost dark Hyunwoo leads you back to his jeep. You have sex on the backseat. It's different this time, tender and sweet, touching each other as if you're both virgins cautiously but eagerly mapping each other's bodies. All he thinks about on the journey to his place is how much he likes you.

***

When you're thousands of miles apart the distance somehow feels greater this time. During the day you cross his mind often but it's worse at night, when he's alone in bed, craving the warmth of you body next to his. Sometimes he looks, then re-looks at the selfies you've sent.

He hasn't kept track of when he last spoke with Kia. It's only when she sends him a particularly bitchy message does he remember that he's unintentionally being ignoring her for as long as he has. When he sends her an apology, citing work and family as an excuse she asks to see him.

He's in two minds about it. One, he's lonely, horny and missing you. However the topic of being exclusive never came up, not that it should. It's new territory. For all he knows some frat boy has you wrapped around him right now. The thought makes him prickle with jealousy.

So he accepts Kia's invitation.

***

"What are you grinning at?"

Hyunwoo looks up, trying to hide his smile when Minhyuk speaks. "Nothing." He lies. He's texting you and you just told him how you accidentally waved at someone who wasn't waving to you and now you're moving country and changing your identity before you die of embarrassment. Another thing he likes about you; you're not afraid to laugh at yourself.

"That means it's a girl!" Minhyuk teases with a laugh. "The chick from college?"

"Uh, no." Hyunwoo replies, avoiding his friends gaze. "Someone else."

"Oh." Minhyuk is surprised. "Who?"

"You know the people I sometimes do gardening and shit for? The daughter."

"Oh shit," His friend laughs. "Risky."

Hyunwoo agrees, adding. "We haven't really tried to hide anything. I don't think her family notice much. It's kinda sad."

"How can you be sad with all that money?" Minhyuk scoffs. Like Hyunwoo he comes from a family that had little to none of not just money, nearly everything. He doesn't work two jobs like Hyunwoo but he works even longer hours to sustain himself. "Crying in a ferrari. Boo hoo."

"She's not like that. Her family sure, but not her."

Minhyuk can tell he likes you. "She's special." He doesn't ask, he just knows Hyunwoo so well that he doesn't need it confirmed by the older male.

"Yeah. She is."

***

He hasn't heard from you in over a week which is highly unusual since you've been messaging or calling each other daily. It's making him a little restless but he reassures his anxious mind by reminding himself you're almost finishing school and you're probably just busy. Kia is a distraction right now, nothing more.

His phone rings while Kia is in his shower. She's going to want to stay the night but he really isn't that interested, right now he wants to be alone. Normally he doesn't speak to you when he's with her, but this will be his first chance in a long time so he takes the call.

"Hi lady, it's been a while." He answers.

"I know," You groan. "Finals. I had to turn my phone off because it was distracting me. I had a meltdown this week."

His first thought is relief. The second; he wishes he could have been there for you.

"I'm sorry," He means it. "How are things now?"

"One more exam then I'm done. No future break downs planned." You announce and he can hear you smile.

"Good."

"What are you doing right now?" You ask. He hears the shower shut off and Kia step out.

"Nothing." Technically it's the truth. "I missed you." He adds lowly.

"Me too, Hyunwoo. Is it weird that you're one of my closest friends?"

"You're one of mine." He says confidently.

"I wish you were here."

Kia re-enters his bedroom in a towel, giving him a quiet smile when she see's him resting against the headboard in the middle of a call. Hyunwoo swallows thickly. "Me too."

"I want to see you, can we face time?"

He knows what that means. More often than not your video calls to each to one another ends in a very explicit manner. He looks at Kia who is redressing. God, he wishes he could say yes.

"I..can't right now, I've got company." He adds lamely because he doesn't want to lie to you.

"Oh." The disappointment in your voice is prevalent. "Ok. Maybe another time."

"Yeah." He wants to say more, so much more, but he knows Kia is listening and doesn't feel like an argument.

"It's okay if you're dating y'know." You add, to his surprise. "I didn't exactly think you were some celibate monk every time we were apart."

He laughs at that. "I assumed you weren't either."

"I wasn't." The past tense confuses him. "Been too busy for that lately."

"I bet."

"No one fucks me like you do though," You laugh and he can't help but smirk. "Anyway, I'll let you go. I've got some stress to relieve anyway." He doesn't miss the innuendo. "And Hyunwoo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll be thinking of you when I do it."

Fuck. He hold back a groan. Now that the image is in his head it's the only thing he wants to see. He gulps. "I always do."

When you've hung up he tells Kia in the kindest possible way he's tired and it's best if she goes home. He senses her unhappiness and he feels a little guilty but not for long.

***

The day you arrive home for the summer Hyunwoo realises it's been ten months of fucking, phone sex and talking about nothing and everything til 2am with you. He's not working today and offers to pick you up from the airport. He knows you could easily have someone on your father's payroll fetch you but you agree nonetheless.

At baggage claim you don't even greet him, flinging yourself into his arms instead. There's a kiss that's all too passionate for such a public space but neither of you seem phased. It's clear that you're just as eager as he is.

You smile at him when he carries your bags for you, loading them into his trusted jeep.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask as he drives. He nods. "I haven't told my parents but I've been working while I've been at school."

You hadn't told him that either. As far as he knew you wouldn't really have to work ever if you felt so inclined.

"I've saved everything. Every single penny I've earned."

"How come?" He's never discussed money with you and he feels awkward.

"Because I don't want to spend my life relying on them." You say simply. "After I finish school next year I'll be free."

Free, he thinks. He notices how ignored you are at home and how unhappy you are there. If you want to be free, Hyunwoo wants you to be free too.

***

You spend more nights with him over the summer than you do without. He doesn't tell you but he broke things off with Kia a long time ago. It's you, and it's been you for a long time. At the beach you tease him and ask him if the other girls like this spot as much as you do.

"I've never brought anyone but you here." He admits.

"Oh." You look surprised. "I thought..."

"Nah," He tries to make it sound more casual than it is. But it means something. You both know it. He laces his fingers through yours. "Just you."

Over the summer a few freckles have appeared on your shoulders as the two of you have spent a lot of time in the sun and he kisses them while he's got you in his arms. You sigh in content and lean back against his chest. He wants to tell you he loves you, has done for quite some time but doesn't want to force it.

You're the one. Not in the conventional sense where he's blindly assured that you're definitely going to get married and grow into old age together. No. How can anyone know that for sure?

You're the one in the sense that you make him happy to wake up each day. It's effortless and it's easy and you've never once held any of his choices against him. He'd do anything for you before any other girl. That's why you're his one. He just needs to tell you now.

MASTERLIST

#all about luv series #all about love: shownu #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #shownu fanfiction #shownu fanfic #shownu ff #monsta x fanfics #shownu fluff #shownu smut #monsta x smut

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akaluan · 4 years

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Ukitake/Starrk: Marriage of Convenience, Character in Peril Part 2

Starrk wakes the moment he senses Ukitake approaching; the man is… focused, intent in a way that Starrk’s never felt him be outside of combat, and it’s…

Well, he’d say it’s concerning, but really it’s just expected.

(Who ever heard of a Shinigami nursing a Hollow back to health?)

(Much less doing so inside Seireitei itself?)

(No, he’s been expecting his time here to end sooner rather than later.)

(Now the only question is… does he have time to escape or not?)

(And does he really care…?)

The door slips open a tiny amount and Ukitake’s reiatsu slips in, a gentle brush of question-concern-need that makes Starrk sigh; whatever the man wants, he’s not going to give Starrk the kindness of just killing him.

“Starrk-san?” Ukitake murmurs, nudging the door open a bit more. “I apologize for waking you, but there’s been a development that we need to speak of.”

Starrk grunts and carefully untangles himself from Lilynette’s clinging limbs; no matter how this conversation goes, she needs the rest more than she needs to be aware. Weeks later and she’s still not back to herself, still not as strong as she should be, and… if Ukitake is here to kill them, at least she’ll go peacefully.

Ukitake settles on the floor just beyond the tatami mats, his back straight and his hands folded carefully upon his thighs. “The Soutaicho has informed me that he’s aware of your presence,” the man says, gaze steady and reiatsu even in a way that Starrk distrusts. “He’s given me an ultimatum; kill you both or send you back to Hueco Mundo.”

“Where he expects us to die,” Starrk says without hesitation.

Ukitake inclines his head. “Where he expects you to die.”

Starrk grimaces and looks away. There’s a chance they could survive being sent back to Hueco Mundo, but… does he really want to? Returning to Hueco Mundo means returning to solitude, returning to a lonely, friendless existence where he kills lesser Hollows just by existing and… and he…

He can’t do that again.

(He can’t!)

Starrk swallows. Braces himself. Says, “I think I’d prefer—”

“There are other options,” Ukitake interrupts before Starrk can finish his sentence. “I’m not about to condemn you to death after weeks of nursing you back to health.”

Starrk stills and casts a wary look at Ukitake, taken aback by the conviction in his voice. He’d known the man was soft — the entire fight with Lilynette was more than enough evidence of that, not to mention said nursing a Hollow back to health — but to willfully disobey an order? For a former enemy?

(How had this Shinigami survived so long?)

“I’ve only thought of two other options so far, but I’m sure we can come up with others if you don’t like either of them,” Ukitake continues when it becomes clear that Starrk is waiting to hear more. “I could send you to the Living World with a letter for Urahara-san. He’s kept himself and several others safe for a century, I’m certain he could do the same for you.”

The name is mostly unfamiliar, but Starrk suspects he knows who Ukitake means; he doesn’t remember much beyond his defeat, but watching Aizen go up in a pillar of his own reiatsu is… memorable. “And the other option?” he asks warily, uncertain what else the man would offer when his first choice was ‘send a former enemy to the man who made Aizen self-immolate’.

“Marry me.”

Starrk blinks. Rubs at one ear. Tries to make sense of a world in which… in which… “What?”

A tiny smile curls the corners of Ukitake’s lips, a spark of amusement in his reiatsu, and he repeats, “Marry me. I’m nobility, albeit minor, and anyone married to me gains the protection of centuries of tradition and law. The Soutaicho can’t say a thing about it, not without calling other marriages into question as well, and no noble will stand for that.”

“I’m a Hollow,” Starrk attempts to remind the man, tipping his chin up enough to make his mask fragment more obvious. “I’d think that would be plenty of reason to call just this marriage into question.”

“You’d think so,” Ukitake agrees, expression serene but reiatsu rippling with smugness. “Except you’re a very powerful soul, and marriages to bring powerful souls into a family are explicitly exempt from question no matter the partner’s origin.”

Starrk stares at Ukitake in disbelief. “No one will ever fall for that,” he tries. “You’re proposing to marry a Hollow that your leader just told you to dispose of. No one will believe you feel a damn thing for me.”

Ukitake shrugs and shades his expression towards an innocence that Starrk refuses to believe. “Weeks of close proximity, nursing the two of you back to health… why wouldn’t I come to appreciate you?” The innocent expression fades with a short, almost harsh bark of humorless laughter, and he continues, “Besides, noble marriages aren’t about love, Starrk-san. They’re about power and prestige and potential offspring. You bring the potential for two out of three of those, and given that my line is down to me and a handful of nearly powerless relatives, no one will question it.”

“Unless I’m mistaken, we’re both male. Doesn’t seem like that has much potential for offspring,” Starrk says with a glance towards Lilynette, wondering how she’s going to fit into this scheme. He refuses to let Ukitake use her like that, even if she is a part of him—

“Well, since I’m going to declare Lilynette our child, seems like you’ve already fulfilled that portion of it,” Ukitake says, as if the idea makes perfect sense and…

It doesn’t. It really doesn’t.

“I don’t understand you,” Starrk bites out with a groan, then buries his face in his hands. This whole idea is absurd, and he has no idea why Ukitake is so… so adamant about this; going so far out of his way for a former enemy doesn’t make sense, even if the man is soft.

(Or maybe… maybe it does make sense.)

(‘Weeks in close proximity’ Ukitake had said, and it’s certainly true.)

(It’s been mostly the three of them the entire time, and he’d thought it was because of his presence, but… what if it isn’t?)

(What if… what if Ukitake is lonely like Starrk had once been?)

“You don’t have to accept,” Ukitake tells him, soft-kind-understanding in a way that makes Starrk’s teeth ache. “We have until tomorrow morning to sort something out, so there’s still time to think of alternatives.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Starrk asks, unable to believe that the other Captains of Seireitei would simply accept a Hollow amongst them. Everything he knows about Shinigami indicates that the Soutaicho’s reaction is the accurate one, which means that Ukitake choosing this action won’t do anything except… “What if they just decide that you need to be killed, too?”

“Then we’ll run to the Living World,” Ukitake answers easily, though there’s an edge of sadness to his reiatsu that Starrk dislikes. “Kyoraku-san will come with us, of course, since he’ll be implicated as well. And between Urahara-san’s assistance and all of our skills, I’m certain we’ll be able to live quite well.”

Starrk sighs in exasperation, disliking how all of these plans cycle back around to asking for help from the man who made Aizen self-immolate, but honestly… Ukitake’s words are… nice. Even if it’s just self-preservation talking, the fact that Ukitake is willing to stay with them…

(Shinigami are different, he knows they are, but…)

(It’s still strange to think that Ukitake would choose him over almost everyone else.)

(It’s… nice.)

“If you’re sure… very well. We can try it.” Starrk rubs at his chin and glances again at Lilynette; he knows she’ll have things to say about this decision, and especially about the fact that he didn’t ask her, but… she likes it here, he knows she does. It’s not… a terrible place to live, if he’s being honest, and he’s pretty certain he’s figured out Ukitake’s motives. If it means being able to stay in a place where he can be around people without having expectations heaped upon him, a little pretense isn’t too difficult. If Ukitake had said they needed to pretend to be in love — whatever love was, exactly — it would be different, but… power, prestige, and potential offspring?

He understands that well enough.

(Though hopefully the offspring part stays as only a potential.)

(Lilynette is difficult enough as it is, and she’s part of him!)

(The idea of some sort of… of… miniature being relying on him is terrifying.)

Ukitake pauses, shock-surprise-pleasure briefly rippling through his reiatsu, then smiles at Starrk like… like he cares. Like he’s pleased by the decision and…

Maybe he’s not too far off with his suspicion of loneliness, because what other reason could a Shinigami have to be pleased at marrying a Hollow?

“Thank you for your trust, Starrk-san,” Ukitake murmurs as he inclines his head. “Kyoraku-san should be back soon with everything we need to formalize it, so how about we spend this time going over what people will expect to see once news of our marriage gets out?”

Starrk nods sharply, pleased that he’s not going to be thrown into a new situation without at least an idea of what to expect. Whether or not he’ll have any time to use that knowledge he has no idea, but… it can’t hurt to have.

Ukitake is putting his neck on the line for Starrk and Lilynette, for no reason beyond loneliness that Starrk can discern.

Listening is the least he can do to repay that.

(Maybe this time will turn out better than the last…)

(Well… he’ll enjoy it while it lasts.)

(However long that may be.)

#i have vague ideas for more of this but this is where i'm going to end it for now #if i continue this one it'll be after soulmate au #i just wanted the actually proposal talk to happen lol

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darkstar6782 · 3 years

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2.06: No Exit - My Rewatch Review

I know I praised a secondary character last episode, but I really have to do the same for Jo in this episode. I’ve always loved her as a character, and I really wish she’d been given more of a chance to shine throughout the course of the series. Her crush on Dean doesn’t feel forced—it becomes obvious in this episode that he likely reminds her of her father in a number of ways, which is both sweet but also makes me glad that her desire for Dean goes unrequited and quickly fizzles out—and she never feels like she knows either too much or too little as an aspiring hunter. She has the weaknesses that you would expect of someone who grew up around hunters but has never had any practical experience, and yet she doesn’t let that inexperience slow her down. She’s a quick thinker, she stands up for herself, and she can keep her head in a crisis, which are all vital traits for a hunter to have. One of the defining scenes for her character, for me, at least, comes in this episode when she wakes up inside the ‘coffin’ after being captured by the ghost. She keeps her head at first, taking her bearings and reaching for her flashlight, but when she turns it on and sees her surroundings for the first time—specifically, the scratch marks on the ceiling that other girls like her had left behind before they died—she succumbs briefly to panic and despair before reigning her emotions in again. That moment feels so real to me because she doesn’t just shrug off her situation, but neither does she give in completely to her emotions. She is allowed to be afraid, but that doesn’t make her weak. And, throughout her time as Holmes’s captive, she is very obviously afraid, but she gets the job done anyway, and the realism that that brings to her personality is definitely what endears her to me as a character.

I also really loved all of the conversations between Dean and Jo in this episode, and how it brings them both to a better understanding of one another. I absolutely see Dean’s point of view when it comes to wanting to discourage Jo from hunting—she has family that wants to keep her out of this life, in spite of the fact that she has know about hunters and the supernatural since she was a child, and you can see clearly in Dean’s face as he talks to her how badly he wishes at the moment that his father had cared enough about him to do the same, rather than the opposite. At the same time, though, he also recognizes that she wants to do this for the father she lost, just as he does it in some respects for the mother that supernatural forces stole from him. The memories he has of his mom are probably very similar to the memories Jo has of her dad, and I think all of these similarities between them are partly why, despite all the flirting and dancing around one another, Dean never really pursues anything with Jo.

As much as I love Dean and Jo’s dynamic, her random comment about not wanting to go back to school because she was ‘a freak with a knife collection’ really felt like a missed opportunity for her to do some bonding with Sam. I often wonder how those early years at Stanford were for him: a kid who had grown up on the fringes of society, basically homeless, suddenly dropped into an environment that would have been almost completely foreign to him, surrounded by kids that share nothing in common with him except for their ages and, occasionally, their intellect. If Jo felt like a freak at college, imagine how much worse it must have been for Sam! It’s a real shame that this is the only mention of Jo having that specific experience in common with Sam, and there is never any effort made to use it to bring them closer together. I also always find it curious because it has always been hard for me to pin down exactly how old Jo is supposed to be. With the mention of her going back to college, my expectation is that she is likely Sam’s age or possibly younger, but if that is the case, and she is still old enough to remember her dad, it also seems weird that Dean, at least, never knew about the Harvelles. If John was around there enough to be considered ‘like family’ by Ellen, why did he never bring his kids there, especially since they were a family with a kid? In ‘Something Wicked’, John has Pastor Jim as both backup and babysitter when Dean was at least 9 years old, which means that he wasn’t above trusting other people he met through hunting with his children, so it just seems odd that the Harvelles were never that trusted before Bill got killed, or, if they were, the fact that Dean would not have remembered doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

I love how claustrophobic this episode feels, with everyone crawling around in sewer tunnels and climbing through walls and being trapped in tiny metal boxes, but the final nitpick I have is that I am still unclear as to how the ghost actually abducted the girls from their apartments. It is implied that he got in through the vents, but there is no way that air vents that are barely large enough for Dean to fit his arm through would fit a whole person, even a petite girl, without any evidence that she had been pulled through there. I also have a lot of questions about the veracity of the H.H. Holmes story, and feel to some extent like the ghost of a serial killer who was so prolific in his life would not have been able to stay off hunter radar for as long as he did. There is so much to love about this episode, but a lot of it falls in the character moments and in the way the episode was shot, and when I start looking at the actual story, a lot of it falls short, which is unfortunate, but not unexpected for this show.

#supernatural #2.06 no exit #spn rewatch #tgpcSPNr #the great pre-convention spn rewatch

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hellzyeahwebwielingessays · 4 years

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The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 34: AMJ #6.1

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You know I considered ending this series after the initial arc. I may well discontinue it after awhile. But for now at least I am going to press on. Thus begins the second of what I and dead certain will be a shitty arc of AMJ. Pray for me.

Before we dive into the issue I want to quote for you the solicit for this issue:

WELCOME TO NY, MJ! After the CAN’T-MISS events of AMAZING MARY JANE #5, your favorite redhead is back home! First stop: Spider-Man! But has her relationship with Mysterio changed things with the love of her life? Next stop: a press tour! Complete with iconic New York guest-starring gigs, and OH NO WHAT’S THAT?!?

We spent over 10 years of seeing Peter and MJ separated in the 616 universe.

Thanks to Nick Spencer they blessedly got back together.

Across 25 issues we got to see Peter and MJ interact and 99% of the time it was awesome and helped some old and open wounds get a little better.

It wasn’t every issue, but that was good. Don’t want to get indulgent right?

Then this series came along and Peter/MJ interactions got limited again due to the nature of the story.

That was a shame but at least we were going to get a great MJ story right?

Except we didn’t. We got a story that paradoxically simultaneously celebrated MJ whilst also inadvertently character assassinating her and just being a disgusting fucking mess in general.

But here we have MJ back in New York where Spider-Man is. This issue is even promising us an interaction between them.

Sounds good right?

Let’s see if it will deliver.

As always here we get the recap.

And once more it gives us the full title of the movie in spite of the comic yet to have done that.

As for the ‘strength of his vision blah blah blah’, you know the drill by now. That’s all bullshit, Mary Jane would never connect to Beck over that or allow him to walk free because of that.

There is also a passage in the recap claiming that MJ connected to Beck over familiarity with his situation. The idea of this being their last chance to make it big. I’ve already talked about how that’s bullshit, see part 12.

Finally, the recap confirms that MJ has still failed to tell Peter the truth. Nice to know MJ will continue to be hardcore out of character moving forward into this new arc.

As the issue starts we see MJ introduced as a guest on some kind of chat show.

As has been the case throughout the series, the art is (stylistically at least) gorgeous.

Beyond that there is little to about this page. Except of course the fact that Mary Jane has thought captions.

Let me repeat that.

For the first time in six issues the readers are being given an insight into the thoughts of title character!

You know, if this were a brand new run, a re-launch or even say the beginning of an outright new era for a series maybe that’d be okay.

But it isn’t. It’s the same run, the same volume, the same story, merely the next arc. This is like if Nick Spencer hadn’t used thought captions throughout the first five issues of his ASM run but then randomly did for the Trivia Night storyline with Boomerang.

Thought captions are perhaps one of the single most potent weapons in the arsenal of a comic book writer. It allows for immense development of characters and enables writers to combine the strength of prose stories with those of more visual mediums.

Now, it’s not that it’s bad to simply not use them. But be consistent. Thought captions would’ve gone a long way in helping us understand Mary Jane better in the first arc along with elaborating upon her asinine decisions there.

Not to mention for a character so often written off as shallow or just eye candy wouldn’t an insight into her thoughts have helped dispel such accusations? Jed Mackay has been doing that pretty consistently since the first issue of his Black Cat run. There it has done wonders for Felicia and fleshed her out more.

It’s especially bad when we consider we got more of an insight into MJ’s thoughts and feelings in one issue of Nick Spencer’s ASM run than in the entire five prior issues of her solo title.

Anyway, as her interview with Reilly Redding begins there is some quips and verbal jousting going on. Reilly asks if the movie has wrapped but MJ explains that McKnight and the crew are still shooting in L.A. Reilly asks if MJ is sure about that.

This isn’t a positive, more a general observation. I’m not overly familiar with chat shows, let alone American ones, but to my eyes the host seems influenced by Ellen DeGeneres.

Anyway, let me dispense with the pettiest of gripes first. I hate Reilly’s hairstyle. I hate that hairstyle in general. To me it looks really stupid, like you went for a haircut but gave up halfway through. That’s not in anyway shape or form a fair criticism. I totally own that. It is just a tiny point that really bothers me personally.

On the more positive side, Williams continues her frustrating tendency to nail MJ’s personality traits within a problematic context. MJ’s social skills are one of her greatest powers and here her charisma and ability to play verbal tennis with Reilly is executed superlatively. When Williams does stuff like this she delivers some of the best Mary Jane writing in a long time. Which is why I hate saying and believing that she shouldn’t work on the character over all. She makes traits of MJ shine whilst nevertheless damaging the character over all.

Case in point, the movie is still filming right? And the Vulture (and probably the other members of the Savage Six) are still out there. Let’s be kind and presume they are in a new secret location. That means Vulture will still want to find out where they are, so all the people (and their families) from issue #4 are still going to be harassed by the Vulture’s paparazzi gang and potentially threatened by the six themselves.

Oh well, MJ still DGAF I guess.

Guess she doesn’t care that she’s appearing in public (in NYC of all places!) in spite of six villains now holding a very direct grudge against her.

Also, we FINALLY get the full name of the movie in the story itself, not the recap pages.

As the interview continues, MJ takes questions from the audience. One man asks what it’s like for her to play a real hero for the first time considering she’s played normal female roles before.

MJ responds that they are all heroes to her. She doesn’t really make the female role distinction quite the same way either. It’s more like she plays a hero who is also a woman.

The next question is about the weird press speculation about Cage McKnight’s conduct. The woman asking the question wants to know what he’s really like. MJ responds that he’s great, just dedicated to the craft and protective of his crew. She points out the paparazzi didn’t take kindly to him because he in turn didn’t take kindly to them hounding the movie.

Reilly then reveals McKnight is here for the interview.

Once more, Williams (with a huge help from Gomez’s art) conveys the charisma and social savvy of MJ here. Gomez’s body language demands particular praise. He conveys MJ’s beauty, flirtation, charm, etc. And he does it on multiple levels. The subtle genius of this page is how Gomez captures MJ putting on a performance for the public, to convince them she’s being utterly genuine and casual.

As for the dialogue, the best faith interpretation of the man’s question, he meant MJ has never played a super hero before, just normal non-powered women. He didn’t mean stereotypical female roles. That interpretation makes MJ’s response make more sense than if the former was the intent. So I’ll give Williams a pass and presume that was in fact her intent.

As for the second question it further highlights the unethical nature of allowing Mysterio to impersonate McKnight. The real McKnight has a lot of gossip and a new public image that was not of his own making. It wasn’t even an unfair fabrication by the press, it existed specifically because someone else was using his name, face and reputation for personal gain.

Also the audacity of Williams to directly reference issue #4 where Ken was harassed by the Vulture’s paparazzi squad but just ignore the fact that that should still be going on.

To MJ’s confusion Cage McKnight joins the interview. However, he doesn’t seem to know anything about the movie at all. He says the first he heard of the movie was when he was contacted for the interview. Meanwhile MJ frantically contacts Beck on her phone. Reilly notices and calls MJ out just before Beck confirms he’s still in L.A.

To MJ’s horror she realizes she’s sitting next to the real Cage McKnight who’s returned from his penguin expedition. Reilly asks why he came on the show if he doesn’t remember movie. Cage responds that just because he doesn’t remember making the movie doesn’t mean he didn’t. he explains that in the past he’s made movies in ‘artistic fugues’ and presumes this is just one such time.

*pinches bridge of nose*

Oh my Gooooooooood this is so dumb.

I get the desire to have humour in a story for the sake of levity. But the world of Spider-Man is not even remotely a borderline Deadpool or Harley Quinn or Lobo comic book. The humour doesn’t come from absurdity or a cartoonlike breaking of logic and reality.

And make no mistake, this is absurd. Scratch that, it’s contrived to the nth degree.

First of all I’m not that well read up on fugue states so I briefly consulted Wikipedia who had this to say:

Dissociative fugue, formerly fugue state or psychogenic fugue, is a dissociative disorder[1] and a rare psychiatric disorder characterized by reversible amnesia for personal identity, including the memories, personality, and other identifying characteristics of individuality. The state can last days, months or longer. Dissociative fugue usually involves unplanned travel or wandering and is sometimes accompanied by the establishment of a new identity. It is a facet of dissociative amnesia, according to the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5).

-Wikipedia

Basically a fugue state is a sort of similar condition to Dissociative Identity Disorder, more commonly known as having a split personality. Only instead of an individual’s psyche fracturing into different personalities that take dominance, it’s someone’s mind running away with itself and becoming someone else. The individual forgets aspects of who they are and becomes someone else.

A very good example within fiction can be found in the Doctor Who episode ‘The Next Doctor’. In it a man named Jackson Lake suffers a traumatic experience and in the midst of it (through a sci-fi gizmo) absorbs a lot of information on the character of the Doctor. His traumatized mind consequently decides to imitate what it regards as the Doctor.

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What I’m saying is McKnight’s dialogue about his fugues are very probably bullshit unless someone can cite evidence to the contrary.

Using the above description though McKnight has gotten this rare psychiatric disorder multiple times and specifically in conjunction with his job as a filmmaker. Yeah, no. Not buying it and neither should you.

Being a film director isn’t a muscle memory skill you can’t forget no matter what. People with amnesia or Alzheimer’s disease do not forget how to play the piano or how to drive. But directing a movie? There are so many moving pieces to that job that rely upon you knowing how equipment and more importantly individual people operate. You have to bear a shitton of theory in mind too. It is physically impossible to repeatedly have fugues and then maintain that job.

And even if it was, oh my lord, that is the single most contrived thing in this series yet. Are you SERIOUSLY telling me that Mary Jane and Beck and the entire production got this lucky. The guy who’s reputation is what the movie is riding on happens to be someone who repeatedly deals with this incredibly rare mental condition?

Holy shit. That’s Superior Spider-Man levels of contrived.

And yet if you still swallowed all of that it still wouldn’t make sense!

McKnight presumes he made this Mysterio movie in a fugue state right? But he wasn’t, so he would remember his life during that period of time. Meaning that there are lots of public records and personal accounts testifying that he was making the movie at the same time that he knows he was observing penguins.

If you suffer amnesia or blackouts or DID then there are obviously gaps in time you cannot account for. The overwhelming majority of people who deal with those conditions make a point of keeping track of those gaps, for practical reasons if nothing else. So McKnight would know that there isn’t a gap in time he can’t account for and certainly not for the time period the Mysterio movie has been going for.

Shit, the movie is still filming! How the Hell does he believe he is still making this movie in a fugue state if he’s consciously aware of lacking any knowledge about it?

Not to mention if he’s been in the Falkland Islands this whole time. A quick Google search informed me that by plane it’d take over 14 hours to travel between the islands and Los Angeles. How the fuck is anyone supposed to ever commute that distance, let alone regularly. And McKnight sincerely believes he was doing both at the same goddam time?

You couldn’t even argue that McKnight believes he made the Mysterio movie before his penguin expedition. Because the movie is still being made and all his other ‘artistic fugues’ would have a movie as proof of what he was doing during the fugues.

This is just mind-numbingly stupid and lazy writing. It smacks so hard of Williams trying to desperately paper over the holes in her initial story.

More importantly, how fucking stupid is Mary Jane or Beck to never considered this possibility? I don’t mean the fugue bullshit, I mean the idea of McKnight just coming back from his penguin adventure.

Was Mysterio honestly so incompetent as to have never accounted for that? He seriously never had anything in place to make sure McKnight wouldn’t just decide to cut his journey short? Jesus, and I was dumb enough to buy his line about McKnight spending a year with the penguins.

Even putting that aside, what the flying fuck was MJ and Beck’s plan for when he eventually came back in the first place? Say he really did spend a year with the penguins then came back to the USA. Suddenly he has a movie with his name attached to it and lots of controversy. Let’s say McKnight’s fugue bullshit added up, there is no indication MJ or beck knew about them. So how the Hell were they planning on getting away with the obvious questions he or his friends or family would have had?

And if they did know about the fugues, why didn’t Williams address that before? That was kind of a lingering question hanging over the story until now wasn’t it?

God I can’t believe I paid for this!

On the next page MJ spots a guy in an Oni Mask backstage. She presumes he’s there to scare her as part of the show. However, she notices that the P.A.s haven’t seen him. Meanwhile Reilly set up a stupid game for them to play.

I got nothing to say about this page beyond McKnight’s dialogue. Williams is clearly trying to frame the real McKnight in a less than sympathetic manner. There could be many reasons why. I suspect one of the reasons is to incline us more towards Beck’s version of McKnight and to make us not feel as bad about Beck (and MJ) exploiting his identity.

Because being vaguely and lightly sexist means you deserve to have your career, public image, sense of self and life violated and damaged I guess?????????????

As Reilly brings in people from the audience to compete against McKnight and MJ, the latter thinks that there is something weirdly familiar about the Oni-masked man.

I have little to say about this page too.

Reilly’s attitude and facial expressions make me dislike her, even beyond her stupid haircut.

And as for the Oni-Masked man (I’ll just call him Oni for now) my only guess is that he’s affiliated with Mister Negative somehow. He had his goons wear Oni masks at times. And MJ interacted with them and Mister Negative himself in the popular 2018 Spider-Man video game by Insomniac; and it’s adapted comic book City at War. As such perhaps Williams is trying to tie-in or capitalize upon audience familiarity with that.

As MJ plays the dumb game he ponders if Oni could be a lesser member of Peter’s rogue’s gallery. Observing him again she notices him murder a civilian.

The dumb game annoyed me, but that’s just me.

Beyond that all I can say is that MJ’s dialogue about Peter’s rogue’s gallery is interesting. It proves that MJ has at least a working knowledge of Peter’s major foes. Which just further proves she would have been familiar with Mysterio and his crimes, just in case anyone was still clinging to the idea that she wouldn’t.

Also, the art and especially that splash page were beautiful.

Unfortunately for MJ, Oni notices she witnessed his crime. MJ is nervous and backs away in fear, annoying McKnight when she bumps into him. Meanwhile Spider-Man swings across town yelling for to hold on as he is on the way.

Gomez draws a nice Spider-Man.

Anyway, more of Williams making us dislike McKnight, see above for more on that.

MJ backing away in fear has me apprehensive. I don’t know if that’s in character for her. I guess the shock and surprise could’ve thrown her for a loop. And if Oni doesn’t notice her then it gives her a better chance of raising the alarm and capturing him.

I must say, I do like MJ being on the backfoot here after issues #1-5 made her often overconfident and over capable at times (see her nonchalance over the Savage Six in issue #5).

Also, isn’t MJ going to give Oni the benefit of the doubt? Maybe he’s sorry for murdering that guy just now. Maybe he wants to make amends by creating a movie about his life. So why is MJ so scared?

Sure, he just murdered someone, but what is that next to the laundry list of Beck’s crimes?

As it turns out, Spidey wasn’t on his way to save MJ. He was in fact en route to a French restaurant to have dinner with her. He is actually before MJ for a change.

I know Gomez isn’t the only artist on this issue and this doesn’t look like his work. Who ever is drawing it though is doing a very bland depiction of Peter with a overly wrinkly forehead.

The joke about him arriving first for a change was funny though.

Back at the studio, the show wraps up. McKnight insults Reilly’s profession just in case you’ve not realised he is a jerk yet. MJ thinks about persuading everyone to evacuate and searches for her phone. She notices Oni leaving and decides to leave her phone behind.

I already know MJ is going to pursue Oni herself. The stupidity of that aside why the fuck wouldn’t you grab your phone before doing that? You could use it no matter where you wind up and it wasn’t so far away that he’d get that much of a head start.

In fact, if Oni knows MJ is a witness why did he bother hanging around in the first place.

And why didn’t MJ raise the alarm immediately, the worst that would happen is the guy would run away. He’s just stealthily murdered someone and is in a mask. He obviously isn’t going to take the audience hostage, so if her priority is protecting innocents then raising the alarm immediately (or in fact earlier would’ve been her best bet. Yes that’d probably mean he’d have escaped but unlike with say Peter’s origin, getting him the Hell out of there would’ve reduced the immediate threat to the civilians present.

And on top of that if she figures he’s targeting her because she was a witness to his crime then by alerting everyone to his actions she’d have removed his need (at least for the moment) of sticking around to eliminate her, thus getting him away from the audience.

If he’s leaving anyway, MJ could also just grab her phone and put a call in to Peter, her super hero chums or the police and get them on the case immediately. If she was really so determined to go after this guy herself she still could but would’ve had a back up just in case he escapes or kills her. If she fails then she’s insured someone will still pursue him.

And as I copiously detailed in parts 19-22, MJ is not a super hero (and she knows that). She has no idea what this guy’s skills, weapons or powers might be, nor does she know what resources or assistance will be nearby to enable her to survive or subdue him. This isn’t like an armed cop, a martial artist or a super powered person going after a regular crook. She really doesn’t know what she is in for. Even if he is just a normal man, he clearly has a height and weight advantage over her, is obviously willing and capable of chocking a man to death and is armed. MJ meanwhile has little self-defence training, no weapons and hasn’t got the weight or muscle capable of taking him on if she’s backed into a corner. And she’s pursuing him back stage where presumably there is a fair chance of encountering many corners!

I understand that she doesn’t want to endanger innocent people, but there is no point in risking her life there is a much more practical and likely to succeed option available to her. Live to fight another day and all that. Yes the guy might hurt people during or after his escape but that’s a lesser evil vs. going after him herself when she is very unlikely to subdue him, far more likely to die and then the guy will get away without her having passed on any valuable intel on him to someone more qualified to pursue him.

Also once she sees the guy leaving she could just tell everyone the situation and ask the audience to stay put.

Basically if raises the alarm right there on stage and/or calls Peter or the authorities she is over all putting less people in danger and increasing the chances of the guy being apprehended in the long run. But no, instead she is going to gamble on the far slimmer odds that she can capture the guy.

Not to mention, why would the guy even give a shit that MJ saw him? Why would MJ give a shit that she is a witness to his crime? He is wearing a mask! She couldn’t identify him even if she went to the police. It is literally part of the reason her goddam boyfriend wears a mask!

And by the way, are there no security cameras backstage? Wouldn’t MJ consider that or Oni himself?

McKnight apologises to Reilly (so not that much of a jerk I guess) as MJ pursues Oni (barefooted) backstage. As she does this she rehearses what she will say to Peter in her head. This entails telling him that she had to get away from the killer. As she is thinking about this the body of Oni’s victim is discovered. Backstage she comes face to face with Oni who refers to her by name.

Yay. MJ deliberately planning on lying to Peter again. It’s so awesome that Williams understands why this isn’t a really bad idea for the reasons I pointed out in part 17.

By the way, I suspect Oni knows MJ personally rather than just recognizing her work.

I’m actually going to leave it there for now as the next part of the story has a shitton to unpack.

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#Leah Williams #Amazing Mary Jane #Mysterio #Quentin beck #Spider-Man #mary jane watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #mjwatsonedit #MJ Watson #peter parker #Doctor Who

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kalinara · 4 years

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One of my favorite episodes of the Witcher is "Betrayer Moon”. Not only do we get the climax of Yen’s Aretuza arc, but we also get the Striga fight. And I think it’s pretty fascinating what the show did with it.

Disclaimer: I still haven’t read the books, so I have only the vaguest idea what the story is like there. I did however start playing the first game, where we see the Striga battle as an introduction, and I find the contrast rather fascinating.

The big thing that stands out to me is that, in the game, the Striga fight itself doesn’t seem like a really big deal. At no point does Geralt seem out of sorts or desperate. If anything, it looks like he’s toying with her. There’s a pretty great bit where he saunters into her crypt and pulls out a tiny hourglass to measure the time. It’s a lovely moment of asshole. It goes well, until the bite at the end.

And it makes sense for a game. This is our glimpse of Geralt before his amnesia, it’s the teaser as to what he could be. And I’m guessing it’s fairly similar in the books, since, IIRC, it’s the first story.

The show, obviously, is very different. The fight is brutal. Geralt’s chains, early on, fail, and after that, he’s fighting rough. He’s flung about and battered and his crawl into the crypt seems as much an act of desperation as it is anything else. No smug little hourglass moment here, Geralt is too wounded for that.

I suspect some of the reason for the change is because female fans are far more sadistic than male fans and we like watching our favorite guys suffer. But there’s also thematic relevance too.

I’ve talked before about how the first season is structured to give Geralt a character arc: by setting Lesser Evil/The End’s Beginning first, Lauren Hissrich has given Geralt a clear emotional progression. He starts off at a reasonably healthy place. He’s ostracized, which he finds frustrating, but he’s also reasonably approachable. He’s verbal, communicating pretty openly with Renfri and Marilka and Stregobor. The events of the story break him, and the rest of the season shows us Geralt getting back.

One step in that direction is meeting Jaskier, but Jaskier himself isn’t enough to fix Geralt. And there are also some issues within that relationship that are worth its own meta. To put it briefly: I think that the claims that Jaskier is the one person to take Geralt’s emotional issues and wellbeing into account are nonsense, because he actually doesn’t. That said, I think Jaskier’s steamrolling actually represents something Geralt needs at this time: he’s not letting Geralt hide in a corner and lick his wounds. He’s forcing him out of the shadows and into human interaction again.

There’s an interesting cross-element of reputation in this episode. Jaskier’s work is bearing fruit: the sex worker (who lives! And gets paid!) has heard of Geralt, she recognizes his scars (...and really, I can’t imagine Geralt reacting very well to songs that talk about him that intimately, but again, meta for another day), and as we see in the Banquet episode and Bottled Appetities, the “White Wolf” is overtaking “the Butcher of Blaviken” in public opinion.

In Temeria though, Witcher is still a bad name, because of that poor fellow who “ran away with their coin”. Because Triss and Foltest would rather trash some poor guy’s reputation than be honest with the people about the threat they face. Their reasons are sympathetic, but it’s not surprising that Geralt is so pissy at the end of the episode. The man who caused the curse is remembered as a hero, Geralt’s own role is buried, and the other Witcher, who gave his life for the miners, is a scorned deserter.

But back to the Striga. Thanks to Renfri, the Striga suddenly takes on more emotional weight. She’s not a monster. She’s a girl, a princess, made into a monster because of the actions of the adults around her. She’s fourteen years old: a child. Like Renfri likely was when she was attacked and raped by Stregobor’s man. Like Marilka, who befriended then rejected him. Like Ciri will be. And this time he can save her. And he does SUFFER to save her.

Ostrit, like Stregobor, is a man who presents himself as the lesser evil. His curse of Adda was Foltest’s fault, because HE made Adda love him. Ostrit had to curse Adda, because he didn’t want to damage her reputation. Because he’d rather see her dead than see her in disgrace. Renfri was a puzzle to Stregobor, rather than a person. Adda was a trophy to Ostrit, in the same way.

Saving the princess is not an emotional fix it for Geralt. It can’t be. He’s saved her by bringing her back, but he couldn’t save her from fourteen years as a monster. Whatever she is now, whether or not she’ll recover, that’s out of his hands. Renfri lived under the label of monster for years, until she became one in fact. Was he too late to save this princess? But it’s something. He was able to do something that he couldn’t do for Renfri.

(There’s also a lovely parallel between the Striga and the victim in Geralt’s story of his first bit of heroism. He saves the girl, but she’s terrified of him. The girl in the story faints. The ex-Striga attacks. Because Geralt forgets sometimes that to a young, traumatized girl, he is scary. I think because ultimately, deep down, he identifies far more with these girls than he does anyone else.)

As mentioned, the ending is interesting. Ostrit, like Stregobor, gets remembered as the hero, when they’re bigger monsters than the girls they’ve made suffer. The Witchers take another hit to their reputation. Triss, often presented as the nicer alternative to Yennefer in the games (which is rather fascinating in its own right), seems very happy with this arrangement, though admittedly, she’s willing to give Geralt some credit while talking with Yennefer later. Geralt is less happy, but what can he really do? At least the princess has a chance to recover.

The Striga story is not a fix-it, but it is a step in the right direction, and I think it does play heavily in both Geralt’s initial rejection of the child surprise and then his acceptance of her.

Also it’s fun watching Henry Cavill suffer. He’s very pretty at it.

#geralt of rivia #beautiful of face dumb of ass

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an-avid-reader · 4 years

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Prodigy (Legend #2) - Marie Lu

my rating: 4/5 stars

Synopsis of book 1 -

In a world where the Patriots, Colonies, and the Republic are at odds and there’s a plague in the poorer parts of the US, Day is an unstoppable street criminal with good intentions. When his family’s house gets marked by Republic soldiers, Day’s only thought is to steal a cure before his family member dies. June is a top student at Drake University—a prodigy. When her brother, Metias, gets caught in a cross-fire during a mission, June is fast-tracked to becoming a soldier. Her first mission: track down Day. As Day and June come from such opposite backgrounds, is it possible that their paths would’ve crossed otherwise?

Link to Goodreads // Link to review book 1 // Spoilers (book 1+book2) in review below!

I haven’t read a trilogy in what feels like a really long time lmao; I think it’s because I’ve noticed that sometimes, the second book acts like a bridge book aka nothing really happens except for the last 50ish pages, which tbh just sets up book 3 (It’s like that one useless episode in a tv show that literally has nothing to do with the plotline). I’m VERY happy this wasn’t the case for Prodigy - if anything, there was even more action and more character (and world building) than Legend, which I much appreciated. That means that I also have a lot to unpack; buckle up!

I feel like the most natural place to start is from the stuff I didn’t really enjoy from the first book, specifically the world building and all the questions. It was finally explained that the Republic is essentially nonsense propaganda and the civilians are being fed false information--they aren’t winning the war, in fact they are losing! We also learned that the Colonies and the Patriots are two separate uh ‘groups’? And the Colonies fund the Patriots, but the Colonies are straight up left in the dark (and the Patriots were also hired by the Republic, but more on that later). I wanted to also briefly mention that when June and Day crossed into the Colonies territory, it was like a completely different world--maybe not better, just different. We also kind of get a glimpse into the history of the world--how climate change just absolutely obliterated the whole world. Which, tbh, I feel like if an ice cap near Antarctica (or Antarctica itself) were to melt, it would be more than just the edges of the US that would be underwater--it would go up to the Statue of Liberty’s torch :)))))))). Nevertheless, I really appreciated these explanations as it added more depth and also provided context for the setting, which I found was lacking in the first book (which, I get, you don’t want to overwhelm readers, esp in YA, with all the world building right away).

The other thing is that I wanted to know more about the plague, and Lu came through!!! So the plague is being used to try to create people as bioweapons, which makes me wonder if they were trying to clone those who were infected (or maybe just wanted to collect everyone who has a similar profile to Eden). I still have a few questions of the virus--like why did Eden and that other boy on the train go blind? Does the virus affect them on a genomic level?! I also find it hilarious that in LA they were quarantined for rioting--I feel like that pretty much just showed how weak the Republic is and how their power is no longer ominous (idk if that makes sense??).

Next, I want to touch on the characters and the character building (specifically June and Day, but others too!). I wanted to start off by prefacing that I’m not a fan of the love triangle vibes that we got throughout the books (and to be honest, the ending sort of pushed that narrative a bit further, which is not cool :///). So I’m not sure if it was Razor’s plan to cut communication between Day and June (on purpose) to prevent them from messing up the Patriot’s plans/to prevent Anden from becoming suspicious of June, but I found it so FRUSTRATING that they couldn’t communicate at least once before the assination (and I mean talk, not the signal bc that stirred up a lot of confusion with Day). Their separation really tested their relationship, but I also feel like there was a permanent wedge placed due to the lack of trust, and again, the ending just hammered that home. I will say, I really appreciate June and Day being completely transparent with each other when they escaped from the Patriots and got in the cave. It was like a necessary evil, but at least they shared relevant information with each other, which I believe strengthened their partnership, even if it took a toll on their relationship. Part of me hopes that they end up back together in Champion, but I know that it may not be ‘what’s best for them’, especially with that huge piece of information we learned about Day--that’s the one thing I’m mad about. They spill the beans in the cave but he can’t even tell June that he’s dying, instead he breaks up with her and then they end up kissing?? AH!

Now for those…...love triangles…. .-. Let’s start off with Anden and June. I’m not sure how I feel about Anden; Lu paints him to be this kind of heartthrob and well-intentioned guy but he’s also sort of naive? Like I get that his whole plan is to reform the Republic with the help of June and Day so that the civilians are on board, but I hope he realizes that there will always be people who are going to 1) resist him and 2) betray him. I really hope he isn’t as quick to trust people as he was with June (which maybe that was because his judgement was clouded). As for being naive...how did he not see June’s paperclip ring???? And to add onto that - how did the Colonies not realize that ‘Sarah’ is actually June???

I don’t know it just seems very unlikely that he didn’t see it considering that June was fiddling with it during their nice little dinner. And also the fact that he was always itching to see her. I didn’t realize, however, that Anden is only in his early twenties—he also lacks the edge that June and Day have, you can tell that he’s a poised person. While it’s great that he stands his ground on the Republic, I find it hard to believe that he isn’t a pushover (even just a tiny bit). Thus, I don’t really see how Anden and June could be a good match; I also don’t think class should play a role into whether or not you should or shouldn’t be with someone.

That sort of brings me to another point, which is the idea of the Priceps and the Elector itself. I have so many questions about Anden's plans, and they mainly involve him. For example, would there still be an Elector (and Senate) after the Republic is reformed? If so, would his powers be minimized, or would he have the status of President? For Priceps, it wasn’t very clear in the book that she doesn’t have to be married to the Elector, but it almost seemed that it was implied; could Anden have chosen to be married and have a separate Priceps? What if the Elector wasn’t straight? So. Many. Questions!! That whole Priceps thing is one of the reasons I couldn’t give this book a full 5 stars, again, it sort of has to do with the lack of information (or the amount of assumptions I have to make).

The next love triangle I have major issues with is Tess and Day, which Day is mostly uh turned off by the whole thing (which I can get behind) but Tess is just so stubborn and tbh pretty jealous, which isn’t cute. I really hope that in Champion they end up reconnecting, especially since Day is practically on his deathbed, but as friends. Maybe Tess will understand where Day is coming from with his feelings about June. Part of me wants Tess to end up with Baxter but I also really don’t like him?????? Agh this really sucks! I wish their relationship didn’t end on such a sour note. Like yes Tess, you were always there for Day (especially when he needed medical care) and ever since they got into contact with June (or rather, when June was sent on her mission), everything went downhill—but I mean, at some point Anden’s father would’ve passed, and maybe things would turn out to be in a similar circumstance, except instead of June it could be a different girl? The fact that Day still calls Tess ‘cousin’ and she still went ahead and kissed him just made me feel slightly uncomfortable?? No, they’re not biologically related, but given the amount of time they spent together, they almost could’ve been. To some extent, I feel like Tess had a huge crush on Day, but she never wanted to admit it until they were separated bc she maybe didn’t realize how much he means to her/she wanted that cheesy movie-like feeling where the two best friends realize that they are perfect together but beyond friends?? I do believe that Tess deserves someone great though, I just don’t think that Day is the guy for that :///

The last relationship-thing I want to briefly mention is Thomas and Metias’ relationship. I’m glad that we have some LGBT+ representation here, but at the same time, I can’t help but wonder if it was forced or not (like a checkbox Lu wanted to tick). I don’t remember in Legend when Thomas kissed June, if there was a kind of repulsion/it didn’t feel authentic. To be honest, I really thought that Thomas was into June, but when we learn he is gay (or maybe bi), it just didn’t seem to fit the story at all??? Upon this revelation, June racked her brain for memories of Thomas and Metias when they were young and oh it just happens that Metias never ‘brought back’ anyone/any girls home. Listen, I’m all for diversity, whether that be the character’s race, gender identity and/or sexual preference, I just don’t want it to come off as the author just ‘checking off a box’; I’d rather it be genuine (even though it’s a fictional story!) For all I know, Lu may have planned this, but to me it just came off as an afterthought, that’s all :/ (and @ Thomas, just because you love someone and it shouldn’t be allowed bc of your ranks, it doesn’t mean you have to kill them even if CoMmAnDeR JaMeSoN said to).

I wanted to also talk about characters—more specifically Razor, Commander Jameson, Baxter, and Kaede (rip). So um I guess we’ll start with Razor aka the biggest con man there ever was. Well tbh I kind of found him fishy, just like June did from the get-go, I just didn’t think it was going to be that…bad??? This goes back to Lu’s foreshadowing—which I would say it improved as I wasn’t able to fully guess what was going to happen—she drops p obvious hints left, right, and centre, you just don’t see them until the events unfold; what may seem like a small detail (i.e. Commander Jameson in Razor’s room on the ship and Day (as a disguise) bumping into her) will end up being part of a bigger plan, so to speak. Part of me wishes we had a peek into his mind to see what he thinks like, and if he has more motives, besides just being “hired” by the Senate to assassinate Anden, maybe Razor has a personal vendetta?? I also definitely suspect that Razor and Commander Jameson may or may not be a thing *side eyes*. I’m excited to read Champion to see how he will stand up against the Elector / the Republic, and whether the other Patriots will stand by his side or if they will turn against Razor--especially because right now he’s in jail, but I doubt he will stay there for long! (which can someone explain why Razor and Commander Jameson only got charged with treason??? They almost flipped the Republic on its head).

Speaking of Patriots...there’s Baxter, which I don’t know where he stands. I think he’s definitely jealous of Day / the fact that Tess has feelings for Day even though he doesn’t reciprocate them. Just a dash of jealousy. But he did predict that Day would betray the Patriots, which makes me think that Baxter may have a part in an uprising, but maybe there’s a chance that he’ll see the whole story. Part of me also highly doubts that he’ll be rational; he seems to be someone with a heavy confirmation bias--I wonder if he knew that Razor was hired by the Senate or if it just went over his head. What if he’s the main villain in Champion o.O him + Tess would be interesting, especially Day does a last hurrah. But anyways, Baxter was just so arrogant, and I could feel Day’s own disappointment when he did exactly what Baxter had predicted. Yeap, there’s definitely going to be some tension that needs to be revisited.

Last and certainly not least, Kaede :( I’m a bit annoyed that she’s dead. It’s yet again another thing that could be used against Day (specifically his relationship with June; anything that comes near them dies). We got to learn so much from Kaede, and before we knew it, she got shot. It sucks because I think she seemed like a reasonable person and she always remained level-headed. She’s not one to judge quickly *cough cough Baxter cough cough*. Even in Legend she had her kick-ass moments, but she really saved them from the Colonies and how June and Day can’t really repay her unless they keep on going with their mission. Not cool to just kill her off like that though.

What I loved from this book, besides the character growth and the depth of their relationships with each other (especially on trust, or the therelackof), I liked how this book is just action-packed. I find with the second book in trilogies, we have a plan with a clear end goal (in this case, assassinate the Elector), and that plan just gets adjusted over time as we uncover information until it gets to the end of the book. Here, that main event ended up being smack bang in the middle, which isn’t something we see very often. It left more room for the story to develop and to allow us to really dig deep into the story, which I much appreciated. At some parts, it almost felt like a rush, especially as the story unfolds and with so many characters to consider--it was a page turner! I’m not really sure if I enjoyed Prodigy more than book 1, as I mentioned, I didn’t really like the love triangles and then Anden is just too naive for me to take him seriously. There were also some cliches (I let go of the breath I didn’t know I was holding), and honestly, I was not a fan of the ending! I think that’s the main reason why I can’t rate this higher than Legend to be honest. At least with the first book, there was enough closure that could give us a starting point for book 2. Here is was...let’s break up lmao jk also I’m not going to let June know that I’m dying, peace out.

This review is getting a bit too long lol, and I’m sure there’s something I forgot to mention, but overall I really enjoyed this book. The action, the intensity, the revelation of information and Lu’s foreshadowing make Prodigy a book that’s hard to put down. The characters’ dynamics are all over the place, which just adds to the chaos, but in a good way--it makes the story that much more interesting. I’m patiently waiting for book 3 from overdrive, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to read and review it by next week--I’m itching to know what happens next! [Please, let both of our main characters live p l e a s e]

I’d love to know your thoughts and opinions on Prodigy! Did you enjoy this book, how would you compare it with the rest of the trilogy? Let’s chat =D

Thank you for reading my review, I hope you are having a good day, wherever you are in the world!

~ Cassandra / an-avid-reader

#just one more ~ queue #prodigy #marie lu #book review #books #booklr #reading #bookworm #legend #trilogy

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coeurvrai · 4 years

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Nadya wakes up and tries to reach out to Marzenya, but is denied, and starts panicking. Honestly, I was expecting this to happen much sooner considering her goddess should care about how much she wants to and is making out with Malachiasz, but whatever.

Was this something the Vultures had done to her? Was she being punished for the power she used trying to escape? This was a different kind of quiet than before. This was worse than the veil. This was emptiness.

Calm down, she told herself. Figure out where you are. A stabbing pain went through her as the silence remained, the gods now more than just out of reach, but turned away completely.

Maybe she would never hear another quip after an errant prayer again. She shivered. It couldn’t be that. The gods wouldn’t have abandoned her. Not for a few doubts, not for kissing a heretic—not even that.

I mean, they are deities, Nadya, and deities are known to be petty and act in a way that is incomprehensible to humans, sometimes. It would be very typical for them to punish you for lusting after and making out with Malachiasz, especially when it is your divine mission to kill Tranavians and bring Tranavian under the gods’ rule again. Especially when your patron is the goddess of sacrifice and death, and that’s supposed to mean something.

Nadya tries to get up from where she’s laying and is met with a lot of blood and nails and glass shards. She manages to get off the slab, but falls to the floor, in a lot of pain.

She tries to find a way out.

Even if it was locked, she would feel less like she had ceased to exist. She had become nothing but the blood slicking the floor and blinding pain.

Edgy.

Nadya starts seeing things in the darkness watching her and coming towards her and tries reaching out to the gods again.

Anguish and a rage too fluid to fully define washed through her and she wanted to scream. She reached for the prayer beads she did not have and found nothing but Kostya’s necklace. She yanked it over her head and threw it across the room. She heard it hit the wall with a feeble, metallic clang.

“This isn’t fair!” she cried, to no one and to nothing because she was alone. Entirely alone in the kingdom of her enemies. Her best hadn’t mattered.

I hope Nadya doesn’t want that necklace back, because it’d be tough shit to find it again in the dark.

Also, this is hardly Nadya’s best. Or if it is, it’s sad and piss poor. She didn’t even last a hour before she got thrown into a life-or-death situation after their plan hinged on her not drawing attention to herself and fucked up that entire plan.

Then she blamed Malachiasz for Felicíja’s murder even though it was arguably the right thing to do in the moment, she had put herself in that situation in the first place and arguably Felicíja would still be alive if she hadn’t insulted her back and accept her duel, and Felicíja is her enemy and she’s supposed to kill Tranavians and has already killed Tranavians within the first five chapters of the book.

“I have only ever done what was asked of me,” she said, her voice feeble and broken.

Your god-given mission is to kill Tranavians and you kept making excuses for not killing Malachiasz, and then proceeded to act on your attraction to him. So, I wouldn’t say you’ve only ever done what was asked of you.

A line in a history book would half-heartedly mention the cleric who had tried to save Kalyazin but only managed to be forsaken by the gods. There would be no canonization after death for Nadya, just a quiet passing of the cleric who had failed.

Well considering there’s like 90 pages to go (dear god there’s 90 pages to go), I’m not holding my breath. Also, at least that way you’ll keep your promise to Anna that you won’t end up in the Book of Saints.

Nadya tries to pray to Marzenya again for something, anything.

Please don’t let this end here. If she cried out with everything left within her would she get an answer? Or would she have nothing but the ashes of the only thing that had ever made her life worth living? Zhalyusta, Marzenya, eya kalyecti, eya otrecyalli, holen milena.

Her plea went unanswered.

Nadya says a prayer that means nothing to me. Man, wouldn’t it’d have been cool if we had found out more about the actual religion stuff outside of the gods and how that work? Like how religion affects the lives of everyday people?

No? Okay then.

Anyways, Nadya notices a light in her peripheral and she went towards it, realising the light is coming from the necklace that Kostya had given her.

Some gods require blood.

She swallowed hard. Taking the pendant in her fist, she let the blood soaking her hands drip into the ridges.

She held it closer to her face, peering at the soft, almost eerie light.

“You deserve to know the truth about the beings that chose you.”

Oh for fuck’s sake, we’re going in this direction, are we? Anyways, so she suddenly hears a voice in her head, much like how the gods speak to her.

Nadya inhaled sharply, hit with a sudden barrage of images. The wave of pain that slammed into her nearly knocked her out.

Creatures with knotted joints like the whorls of a tree, faces enshrouded in fog, four eyes, six, ten. Beings with eyes on their fingertips, mouths at their joints. Iron teeth, iron claws, iron eyes.

One after another after another. Sinuous wings, feathered wings black as tar. Eyes of light, of darkness. And blood. So much blood.

Because that’s just it. It was always, always blood.

Feeling sick, Nadya dropped the necklace. The images stopped. She was panting, fighting for air.

Is it weird I’m being reminded of the Children of the Forest? Because I’m being reminded of the Children of the Forest for some strange reason. Also the volcra.

Anyways, it obviously has something to do with the Vultures. And I just cannot get over the fact that the Vultures sound so much like the Ironteeth witches, it’s quite unbelievable.

Especially because I know Emily Duncan is aware of Maas. Also, for someone who has been critical of the editing of Maas’ books in the past, her and her editor sure haven’t done much better.

When she picked up the necklace again, she was careful to not touch the spiral ridges but apparently any contact was enough. When the cool silver touched against her skin all her senses were flooded with white light. Purity with rivulets of blood staining it all. It fell in tiny droplets, from her fingertips, off her arms. There was nothing but the blinding white and the blood.

Like this paragraph, for example.

“When the cool silver touched against her skin”??? Just say “when she touched the cool silver” or some shit, at least that way it isn’t so awkwardly worded. The rest of it makes me wanna roll my eyes and grab a sandwich.

Anyways, she tries talking to this ~mysterious~ voice and the voice answers back.

What is this? What are you?

“Does that matter?”

She was surprised when the voice—unusually high, like reed pipes—responded.

Are you … one of the gods? There were gods she had never spoken to, was this one?

There was a long silence, leaving Nadya suspended in the blood-soaked white space. She was vaguely aware her pain was only a dim buzz now. It surrounded her like a fog, barely noticeable.

Then: “Once upon a time, yes.”

This is totally related to that story that was briefly mentioned about a human or some saint that supposedly was able to obtain godhood, isn’t it?

And once upon a time that answer would have terrified Nadya. A few short weeks ago, the girl in a monastery who believed so wholly in her gods and her cause would have looked upon this with horror, disbelief. She would have written it off as hallucinatory heretical magic. But now …

Now she had allowed herself to doubt. Now she was tired. Now she had been forsaken and abandoned. She sat down, crossing her legs underneath her, conscious of the floor wet with blood beneath her. There was nothing left to do but hope for answers.

She literally believed in her fucking gods and shit like half an hour ago, and I just- this is what I mean about how nothing feels believable, that I can neither believe in Nadya’s supposed hatred and xenophobic tendencies to the point of wanting to conquer Tranavia and essentially prepared to participate in a crusade against them nor her supposed doubts in her gods and her cause with actions like sparing Felicíja and being attracted and caring about Malachiasz.

Nadya doesn’t have a proper character arc because Emily Duncan can’t be bothered writing out a character arc for Nadya properly.

She asks the voice how it can no longer be a god and the voice replies:

“How does a human girl become something divine and feared by the gods that gave her the power she wields?”

Oh, so we’re bringing the book’s tag line into this, are we?

I mean, it’s not like unfeasible that the gods might be afraid of a person they have given so much of their divine magic to - after all, I’ve fucked with God of War - but one) that magic is totally dependent on them giving it to her and ttwo) then why did so many of the gods grant her their blessings instead of just Marzenya especially since Marzenya is her patron?

Also, even if the magic that Nadya possesses all by herself makes her a threat, why did Marzenya even tell her about it in the first place? That seems counter-productive to me.

Anyways, Nadya asks the voice more questions and receives more answers, even if they’re not the answers she wants.

Where am I? What do you want? The being never answered her first question, but she held back asking again in hope she would receive some answers.

“Where you are is as irrelevant as it is immaterial. What I want is better answered by the question of what you want.”

Can I see you?

“You do not want to.”

Nadya flipped the pendant between her fingers. It had come with her. Had she been carrying this being around her neck all this time? Where had Kostya—of all people—found this? Why had he given it to her?

That’s a good question. Too bad Kostya’s greater relevancy to this book was left behind in Chapter 1.

Also, can I just say, carrying bits of/entire beings around with you attached to or inside of objects is a very specific niche of mine and I’m not afraid to say it. It’s literally one of the main points of one of my D&D characters.

Nadya remarks that she doesn’t know what she wants.

“You think they can take your power away from you?”

I see someone has been watching the first season of Winx Club.

Nadya states that they can because they’re the ones who gave it to her in the first place. The voice tells her that that’s not true.

“Our time together grows short. You must make a choice, little bird. Do you continue on with your wings clipped or do you fly?”

Darkness plunged back around Nadya—abrupt and severe—as the necklace slipped out of her hands and pain crashed back down onto her.

Oh dear fucking lord, is this thing connected with goddamn Malachiasz?! Is that what’s going on here? Because Malachiasz calls her little bird or whatever. Ugh. Thanks, I hate it and I want a refund.

Anyways, that’s the end of that chapter!

#sarah reads ws #blood tw #i listened to the midnight on repeat reading this #you should listen to them too

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