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talkdutchtome · 5 months

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Glitch- chapter eight

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . after the trauma i inflicted on you all last time, i thought i'd treat you to a few chapters of fluffy max x y/n content <3 Also this isn’t proofread unfortunately as i just got done with part of my dissertation and if i look at my computer for another second my brain will explode )

Y/N was left stunned, her mind grappling with the weight of Max's unexpected confession. The vulnerable honesty in his words lingered in the air, and she found herself at a loss for a response. What could she say? She had accepted that Max simply didn’t see her like that and that’s why he left so abruptly; the last thing she thought he was going to say was this.

Max's next words pulled her back to the present moment. "Could you just let me in so we can speak in person?" he requested, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and sincerity.

Y/N, still processing the revelation, stammered, "What?"

"I'm outside your flat," Max confessed. "I know this is unexpected, and I'm sorry for just turning up, but I've been mulling it over in my head. When I realized how I felt, I needed to tell you immediately."

The gravity of the situation settled on Y/N, and she hesitated before responding, “I’m at a bar, with Mas- With the team. They won today and we went out for a few drinks.”

“Oh okay, I’m sorry I’ll leave.” Y/N could hear the deflation in Max’s voice and her heart sunk a bit.

“No, give me 15 minutes and I’ll be there” she spoke before quickly hanging up. She didn’t know what exactly to say to Max, but she knew they needed to talk.

The atmosphere in the bar hummed with celebration as the team and their friends reveled in the victory as Y/N re-entered the bar to inform people that she needed to go. She discreetly approached Mason, her face a mask of determination, and whispered, "I need to go, something came up."

Mason, concerned, furrowed his brow. "Is everything okay?"

Y/N offered a quick nod. "Yeah, just something I need to take care of. We can talk about it tomorrow, I promise."

Mason's eyes searched hers for more answers, but Y/N's resolve was unwavering. "Please, Mason, not now. Tomorrow, I promise," she reiterated, and before he could press further, she pulled away, heading towards the group.

She interrupted the lively conversation with a brief, "I need to head out, guys. See you tomorrow," leaving the group with confused glances. Mason, however, couldn't shake off his concern. He approached her once more, this time with a more direct plea. "Can we at least talk about what happened today?"

Y/N met his gaze, a mix of apology and determination in her eyes. "I really have to go now, Mason. We can talk about everything tomorrow. I'm sorry," she said, a heavy weight in her voice. With that, she turned away, leaving Mason standing there, bewildered and frustrated, with their friends watching the scene unfold.

The night draped itself over the city as Y/N approached her apartment building, the darkness obscuring the details of the world around her. In the dimly lit corner, Max stood waiting. The feeble glow of distant streetlights cast long shadows, rendering their faces almost invisible. Their greeting was muted, a hesitant hug exchanged in the dimly lit vicinity. Neither of them spoke much, the lack of clarity mirrored by the obscured visibility. The shadows seemed to swallow their words, leaving an unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Inside her apartment, harsh lighting unveiled the details that the darkness had concealed. Y/N's neck bore a series of marks, intricate patterns etched in the aftermath of a passionate encounter. The marks, though unintentional, now became vivid tattoos, stark against her skin.

As Max began to say something, his eyes fell upon the visible aftermath, and his words caught in his throat. The room, now flooded with the unforgiving light, accentuated the complexities of the situation. Y/N watched as his face dropped, the color draining from his skin. The realization dawned upon him, and an awkward silence settled in the room. The unspoken weight of Mason's presence loomed over them, turning the atmosphere into an uncharted territory where words faltered, and emotions hung heavy in the air.

She tried to find words to explain, to offer some justification for the marks, but her mind drew a blank. Max, observing the unspoken turmoil in her expression, interrupted her before she could stumble through an explanation.

"Mason?" His voice was devoid of emotion, dry and almost detached. Y/N, feeling defenseless and without a valid explanation, could only nod in response. In her defense, she had none. She could see the gears turning in Max's mind, trying to process the implications of what he'd just learned.

She anticipated Max's departure, expecting him to distance himself from the completely fucked situation that he found himself in through no fault of his own. Instead, however, to her surprise, he didn't retreat. Without uttering another word, Max walked over and took a seat on her couch. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, leaving the room in a suspended state of uncertainty. Y/N hesitated, unsure of how to navigate the conversation that loomed before them.

She hesitantly broke the silence, asking, "Aren’t you leaving?"

Max, however, countered with a question of his own, delivered in a measured tone that hung in the air. "Should I?"

Caught in the throes of uncertainty, Y/N admitted, "I don't know."

Max, still processing the situation, confessed his genuine affection for her. "I really like you," he said, his words heavy with sincerity. "But if there's something between you and Mason, something real, you should tell me now. I don't want to stand in the way."

The weight of his words lingered in the room, prompting Y/N to examine her own feelings. Yet, as Max continued, laying out the conditions for their potential future, the complexity of the situation deepened. "Unless you can definitively say that you want Mason and not me, then I'm not going to go away."

He sought clarity, gazing into her eyes with a mixture of curiosity and expectation. "Can you tell me that?" he asked.

Y/N, entangled in the web of her own emotions, shook her head. She really didn’t know much, but she did know that she felt something for Max. She did feel something for Mason too, maybe she always would; but Max made her feel something she had never felt before, and she couldn’t just ignore that.

Max looked at Y/N with a sense of urgency in his eyes. "Do you have any holiday saved up?" he asked.

Y/N, caught off guard, nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, I do."

Max took a measured breath, his eyes reflecting a sense of determination. "How about this? Come with me to Monaco for a week, and then it’s Silverstone so you can come with me to that. Two weeks, just you and me. And if, by the end of it, you still want Mason, I'll walk away."

The proposal lingered in the night air, and Y/N felt the gravity of the decision pressing on her. "I... I don't know," she admitted, uncertainty threading through her words.

Leaning in, Max's eyes bore into hers. "Think about it."

Silence enveloped them as Y/N contemplated his proposition.

After a pause, she looked back at him. "I need to talk to Mason, to see if I can get the time off work and also.. Well, I can’t just up and leave for two weeks without an explanation. " she asserted, the resolve in her voice mingling with vulnerability.

Max nodded, acknowledging the necessity for clarity. "Sure. I can book a hotel room for tonight, and then you can talk to Mason tomorrow. If you decide to go, we can leave after that."

"Okay," Y/N agreed, the air thick with unspoken possibilities.

The next day, the weight of anticipation hung in the air as Y/N, accompanied by Max, navigated the familiar path to Mason's house. The drive was a quiet affair, with unspoken tension filling the car. Max, understanding the gravity of the impending conversation, remained in the vehicle as Y/N gathered her courage to face Mason.

Stepping into Mason's home, memories of shared laughter and easy camaraderie clashed with the somber reality of the impending discussion. Mason, sensing the gravity of the moment, met her gaze with a mix of concern and apprehension.

"I need a few weeks off, I’m going to Monaco with Max for a little while," Y/N declared, her voice a delicate blend of determination and vulnerability. Her eyes, once filled with an unwavering spark, now reflected the tumultuous emotions swirling within her.

Mason didn’t know what he expected when Y/N came to his door without any warning, but it wasn’t this. After yesterday, when they had- their moment. How could she just drop this on him, come and tell him that she wanted to go on holiday with someone else.

“What do you mean? What about us, what about me?”

Y/N, torn between loyalty and her evolving understanding of self, shook her head. "I need to, I like Max, and I owe it to myself to be able to give it ago. Being around you is confusing and complicated. I just need a break" she uttered; the weight of the decision etched in her expression.

At her words, she couldn't help but notice the stark change in Mason's expression. His features, once marked by familiarity and warmth, now contorted with a palpable hurt. The lines on his forehead deepened, and his eyes, once a source of comfort, now betrayed a pain he couldn't conceal. It was as if her words had struck a chord, unraveling the threads of their friendship, leaving Mason visibly wounded.

“Please don’t go, I’m sorry I- Well I was wrong before. I do see you as more than a friend," he admitted, laying bare the depth of his feelings.

Yet, Y/N, no longer content with half-truths, posed a poignant question that lingered in the air like an unspoken truth. "Would you feel that way if Max never came along?"

The room fell into a contemplative hush, the unspoken answer lingering like an invisible barrier. Y/N, her heart heavy with the weight of decisions, knew she couldn't settle for uncertainty. "Exactly," she asserted, her voice a mixture of resolve and sorrow. "I don't want to be with someone who only wants me because they don't want somebody else to have me."

In a reluctant tone, Mason finally agreed, "Alright, Y/N, take as much holiday as you need." As she uttered a sincere "thank you," she turned to leave, only to be halted by Mason's hesitant voice. His words hung in the air, heavy with remorse and an unspoken apology, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I ruined everything, and I don't... Well, I'm just really sorry." The weight of his regret lingered, creating a somber atmosphere as Y/N absorbed his admission before uttering. “Yeah.. Me too.” and walking away from her best friend.

As Y/N returned to the car where Max patiently waited, her eyes betrayed a lingering sadness that Max couldn't ignore. Concern etched across his face, he gently inquired, "You okay?" She offered a halfhearted nod, confirming Mason granted her the time off. Despite her affirmation, Max sensed something amiss. "You sure?" he pressed, genuine worry in his voice. She shook her head, signaling a preference to keep it to herself.

The atmosphere remained heavy with unspoken words. The engine roared to life, and they merged onto the road, the rhythmic hum of the tires the only sound between them. Max stole glances at her, concern etched on his face, but respecting her need for silence.

After a stretch of quietude, Max broke the stillness. "I need to pick someone up at the factory, they need to go back to Monaco too" he mentioned, his eyes focused on the road. Y/N nodded, speaking for the first time in a while “Okay no worries, who?”

"It's Daniel," Max revealed, the name hanging in the air. At Max’s words, her eyes lit up with genuine excitement. "No way, Daniel, as in Daniel Ricciardo?!?" she exclaimed, the unexpected joy momentarily pushing aside the shadows. Max couldn't help but smile at her animated response, grateful for the chance to divert her thoughts from whatever weighed on her.

Max chuckled at Y/N's admission, teasingly asking, "A fan of Daniel, huh?" She grinned, nodding, "Yeah, even though I grew up a Mercedes fan, there's always been something about Daniel." Max laughed, "Well, he'll enjoy hearing that. He's been excited to meet you." Y/N blushed at the idea, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "Have you told people about me?" Max's demeanor shifted slightly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. He jokingly responded, "Well, when I stopped making up excuses to get out of coming to the factory, they knew something was up."

The rhythmic hum of the car's engine melded seamlessly with the soft daylight as they continued their journey. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the cityscape passing by—a lively backdrop for the evolving conversation within the car.

Max skillfully guided their dialogue through diverse topics, carefully avoiding any mention of Mason. Despite the apparent ease in their exchanges, a delicate undercurrent of tension lingered—an unspoken presence that painted the atmosphere with a muted complexity. Max, attuned to the subtleties, felt the weight of Mason's words pressing upon Y/N's thoughts.

As they traversed the city, Max occasionally stole glances at Y/N, his eyes seeking clues within the nuances of her expressions. There was a magnetic pull between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the uncharted territory they navigated. Max sensed that Mason's remarks had imprinted themselves on Y/N's consciousness, like an indelible mark that begged exploration.

Yet, Max exercised restraint, choosing not to pry into the depths of Y/N's emotions. Instead, he allowed the daylight to unfold, leaving room for the unspoken to gradually find its voice

The car pulled up at the designated spot to pick up Daniel, and as he stepped into the car, a vibrant energy accompanied him. Daniel greeted Y/N with a warm smile, his friendly demeanor putting everyone at ease. The introductions flowed naturally, and Daniel couldn't resist a playful comment.

"So, this is the infamous girl Max can't stop talking about," he teased, shooting a playful glance Max's way.

Y/N chuckled, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity about what Max might have shared. As they continued the journey to the private jet, the conversation effortlessly ebbed and flowed. Y/N and Daniel discovered common interests and shared laughs, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie that surpassed the typical introductions. The initial awkwardness melted away, leaving room for genuine connections to form.

Upon reaching the private jet, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the luxurious surroundings. The sleek interior, plush seats, and attentive service were a stark contrast to her usual mode of travel. Her excitement spilled into the conversation.

"Wow, this is amazing! I've never been on a private jet before. It's like a whole different world up here," she exclaimed, taking in the opulent surroundings. Daniel grinned, his eyes reflecting her enthusiasm. "Get used to it; you're in for a treat. Flying private is a game-changer," he remarked, settling into his seat.

Amidst the smooth hum of the jet engines, Y/N, engaged in an animated conversation with Daniel, seemed oblivious to Max's watchful eyes. Her laughter was infectious, punctuating the air and drawing everyone into the magnetic orbit of her joy. Max couldn't deny the fascination that swelled within him as he witnessed her seamlessly fitting into his world, connecting effortlessly with one of his closest friends.

For Max, the allure went beyond the surface. He liked the feeling of introducing Y/N to his realm, of sharing moments and friends with her. Watching her throw her head back in laughter, observing the spark in her eyes, Max found himself entranced by the unique melody she brought to the symphony of his life.

Meanwhile, Daniel, ever the observer, noted Max's subtle yet profound shift. It was as if he'd discovered a new rhythm in the music of his own existence. Daniel had never seen Max act so reserved, so captivated by someone's presence.

As the jet touched down in the Monaco, Daniel, having fulfilled his role as the transient third wheel, bade them farewell. Max guided Y/N through the picturesque streets to his apartment, a chic abode that overlooked the azure Mediterranean Sea.

Max's apartment, perched atop a hill, boasted floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the breathtaking panorama of Monaco's coastline. The decor seamlessly blended modern aesthetics with subtle nods to the city's classic charm. Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the tasteful art pieces adorning the walls and the plush furnishings that invited relaxation.

On the terrace, Max pointed out the landmarks below—the glittering marina, the famous Casino de Monte-Carlo, and the labyrinthine streets that told tales of luxury and opulence. The breeze played with Y/N's hair as she took in the view, the sun casting a warm glow over the city.

Inside, Max introduced her to his two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, who surveyed her with a mix of curiosity and indifference. The apartment resonated with a sense of Max's personality—elegant, sophisticated, and a touch playful.

Leading her to the spare room, Max revealed an unexpected surprise. The room was elegantly decorated, adorned with fresh flowers, creating an inviting and serene ambiance. Y/N, genuinely touched, couldn't help but express her gratitude. Max casually mentioned that he'd arranged for his cleaner to work her magic during their flight.

As Y/N settled into the room, a wave of fatigue washed over her. She thanked Max once more for the thoughtful gesture and embraced him before retreating to the comfort of the bed. Max assured her that dinner reservations were secured for later, and with a gentle smile, he left her to rest, closing the door softly behind him. The room, now silent, cradled Y/N into a peaceful slumber as the sun dipped below the Monaco horizon.

Tag list-

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botanicalsword · 11 months

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Water Rising / Air Rising / Ascendant

Ascendant / Rising sign is the lens through which we tend to present ourselves to the world. It is the mask or persona that we wear when interacting with others and can be seen as a sort of filter that shapes how we are perceived by others.

✧✧✧✧

Photo credit @le.sinex

❥ Water Ascendant / Rising Sign (Cancer / Scorpio / Pisces)

When they show care and concern for others, they reserve their full attention and affection for selected people. Still, they strive not to neglect those around them who may need support 🤍✨

Though they are willing to lend an ear and offer advice, they do so in a selective manner

They are able to easily disconnect from others' emotions, taking a detached and practical approach rather than an empathetic one. They relate to others' feelings on an intellectual level but not on a deeply emotional one

They don’t mind to invest more in their closest friends

They typically make many friends at work and leverage their colleagues' ideas and talents. They fully utilize these relationships for networking purposes, but with genuine connections ✨

They value hard work over passion, possibly due to their upbringing and childhood values

They tend to have an appearance beauty standard for themselves and strive to meet it

❥❥❥❥❥

❥ Air Ascendant / Rising Sign (Gemini / Libra / Aquarius)

Even if some of them might be introverted, they can still engage in a fulfilling conversation with you, even on topics that they may not be familiar with

They frequently have distinctive insights and viewpoints that can lead to stimulating conversations

They may choose to keep financial information private for privacy or security reasons

They respect independence and tend to seek partner share their sense of adventure and independence

When it comes to relationships, they value their independence and tend to seek partners who feel the same way. This enables them to maintain their individuality

They value sharing experiences with their partners, especially when exploring new things and embarking on adventures

✧✧✧✧

It is the observation based on my experiences - If you have different opinions, please share them with me. I would love to hear them. ♡

Masterlist @botanicalsword

#cancer rising #rising sign #rising sign observation #astrology #astro community #astro posts #overlays #synastry #astro observations #synastry observations #astrology placement #astro #astrology notes #astro placements #astrology observations #planetary transits #astro chart #libra rising

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williammorgan45 · 2 months

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Okay. After many bad thoughs of 'it's not good!' and 'It looks so bad!' I decided to bring my courage and post this. Ladies and gentlemen, I present you my Smilling Critter Space Rider AU from @onyxonline: Alan Crane. It's not a big master piece but I wanted to give it a try to express how much I like Onyx work and hope to see more. Here some story behind my character if you want to read. Origins: Alan wasn't always a Space Ranger. Hell, he didn't wanted to become one in the first place but after what The Prototype did to his home, his loved ones and his planet, he had no choice since that was the only way to not become a blind follower or die by them. Alan, since he was a kid, experimented awful nightmares almost every night. He would wake up with a cold sweat or almost screaming in fright. His parents noted his deminor on how he acted and allways asked if he was okay but he would say "Just a bad dream. I'm okay." His parents where concern but decided to not push his son to something he wasn't comfortable with. Alan before joining lived a somewhat silent but lonely life. He wasn't a the type of social butterfly. He was your typical silent kid who really liked coffee, for some reason(It kept him awake for most of the whole day.) He didn't share much of himself since he didn't like people much but he was fine with that. School was boring but at least he could read in peace without any trouble. He just fine with him, a nice read and coffee. They could call him boring but he was fine with that. It's not like his life could change for the worst. ...Right? (TW: Blood and death.) He was 15 when he saw them...When he saw the panic...When he ran to his house in fear something bad happen to his parents...When he saw them on the floor bleeding and not responding...When he dug up his father flashlight and revolver...When he took aim and fired to the many followers that wanted him dead for the sake of their GOD It was a nightmare...But he was wide awake.

(Alan fighting against followers of The Prototype before joining the Space Rangers.) For a whole week he fought against several followers and hidding away from them. The red smoke didn't covered the whole planet he was allways on the move but he's body was getting weaker with every day and he was getting low on supplies and ammo. Countless nightmares bombarded him everytime he closed his eyes just for a single night. He was slowly lossing his sanity with every night. It was a miracle that after a week and a half, a group of Space Rangers recived information about possible survivors on the planet. When he found them, he almost thought it was his mind giving him false hope and almost shot one of them in fear but one of them assured him that he was fine and okay. After that, he went with them After calming his down and almost drowning himself with coffee the they offered on their HQ, Alan told them about about what really happen. How it all went to hell in a single day. How he lost everything and everyone he loved. After that he didn't say anything more after that. 5 years passed and since he didn't have a place to live since then, one of the sugested if he wanted to join the Space Rangers. Since he have some 'experiance' dealing with some followers, maybe he can help. Until he is relocated to a new home. Alan was a little skeptical about the offer...Well, very much skeptical. Him? A Space Ranger? He had doubts...But it was better that staying on the remnants of his home and fightng to survive. From there he lived and learned hoe to defend himself with the instructors in the Space Ranger HQ and graduated. He still have nightmares every night but he's slowly learning to mask his corncern on them. And it somewhat helps the fact that he uses a typewritter to help him unload his burden by writing his nightmares. Like it or not, he was an official Space Ranger. Now if only he can understand why this purple cat with the waning crescent moon symbol and a dog with with a sun as a symbol too would always sit with him at Kissys's when his drinking his coffee and asking me if he slept well... ...Goddamn it. He needs more coffe for this.

And scene! If you read it trough the end, thank you! If you can leave a heart and if this goes well, I might post more of this I don't know ;P Anyway chao and have a good one.

#space riders au #onyxonline #oc art #oc

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lxvejohnny · 1 year

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The endless beginning

part four

scream VI fanfiction with implied ethan x oc!

find part one, part two, and part three or just the masterlist. enjoy!

Amelie sits in between Sam and Tara as they look down at the photos on the table. Gory pictures of the crime scene with the bodies of Jason and Greg and the bloody picture of Sam’s license on the floor. The three girls haven’t made a noise since they were put into the investigation room, all too exhausted and drained from the attack that just took place. Amelie sits in her clothes that have started to become sticky with blood and feels like throwing up. She wasn’t able to throw her clothes away just yet since they have literal human blood on them and because she doesn’t have a spare with her. They also needed to take a photo of her clothes for evidence. She just couldn’t wait until she could go home, strip off her clothes and scrub the blood off her skin until a new layer is revealed. They let her wash up her hands and arms, at least, so there wasn’t any blood or glass stuck on her hands.

Soon enough Detective Bailey comes into the room and closes the door behind him. In his hand lays an evidence bag with a Ghostface mask where he lets the girls know that it was found next to the bodies at the apartment crime scene. “DNA says that it belongs to somebody named Richie Kirisch. Does it ring a bell?”

“We’re familiar with him,” Sam replies. She stares at the mask before looking away. All too familiar with him, actually.

“The one that attacked us had a different mask on,” Tara noticed when she saw the mask in the bag. The detective looks confused at this. “It was kind of more beat up, like it was older.”

“Ah, I gotta ask, do you have alibis for earlier tonight?” Detective Bailey jumps into his next set of questions. So, one by one the three girls state where they were at.

“I was at a party with my friends,” says Tara.

“I was also at said party with our friends,” Amelie says next.

“I was at my therapists. I can give you his information, you can call to check if you want,” Sam says last. “And then I met these two at that party. Where I tased someone.”

Detective Bailey looks concerned. Interesting piece of information to tell the police, Amelie thinks, but at least she was being honest.

“Unrelated,” Sam quips, moving past it.

“Before or after this happened?” Bailey pulls his phone out to show the girls a video taken of Sam pushing the girl who threw a drink on her. Whoever took the video made it look like worse than it was, Sam was provoked, of course she was going to fight back.

“Before,” Sam looks away from the phone and speaks.

“Point is, we were with people all night,” Tara butts in.

After a brief moment of silence, something else seemed to peek Sam’s interest in this whole thing. “So, our roommates dad just happened to pull our case.”

“That had to be a crazy coincidence, right?” Detective Bailey peers back to Sam where he sees her nod. “The detective who had the case offered to give it to me because it involves Quinn, but I can totally give it back if you’re uncomfortable. Up to you.”

Sam looks beside her at Amelie who turns to Sam. She shrugs her shoulders in response, maybe it was better to have him on the case. They live with his daughter anyways, so they have to be safe, right? Sam shakes her head and lets the detective know it’s fine but she still looks suspicious.

“So, if the man who attacked you did steal your license and plant it next to the body, then that will probably be someone close to you,” The detective states as he begins his next round of questions. “How long have you known your friends?”

“Well, we moved here with Mindy and Chad for summer semester like six months ago. So, Quinn, Ethan, Anika is all,” Tara decides to speak up since Sam has done the majority of it their time here.

“Well, I think I can vouch for Quinn so that’s one less we have to worry about,” At that, Tara turns to look at Amelie beside her and they share a quick look. They trust Quinn, sure, but they he was quick to cover his daughter. “Do any of you have anyone who might want to target you?”

“Not anyone who’s still alive,” Amelie finally speaks up for the second time since entering the room.

His eyes widen before saying “Yikes.”

The door then opens, and an officer lets Bailey know that the FBI is here, and his jurisdiction is needed. As soon he steps out of the room all the girls let out a breath of air. Sam looks to Amelie who sits beside her, “You okay?”

It feels like everyone around her is asking if she’s okay so often recently. “Yeah, I just need to get out of these clothes”

“Don’t worry, we are getting the hell out of here now” Sam says out of relief as she stands up.

Soon enough the three girls are getting walked out by an officer before Sam looks into the room they are passing where Detective Bailey is and sees a face she recognizes “Kirby?”

“Hey, Sam,” Kirby looks up and sees Sam. Kirby gives Sam a hug and puts her hand on Tara and Amelie’s shoulder to acknowledge them. “You’ve grown, Amelie.”

“You’re the FBI?” Sam looks at Kirby quizzically, the last time she saw her she was a student in high school and was a part of the recent attacks by Ghostface. Amelie recognizes her briefly from all those years ago. That attack was the first time she ever saw Ghostface and was when it all began for her. She was only a child, and her dad did his absolute best to shield her from what was happening, but she remembers his fear of it coming back. She also recalls that Kirby was one of the last survivors from that attack.

“You know each other?” Detective Bailey asks when he sees the small reunion.

“Yeah, we went to Woodsboro high together. She was a senior when I was a freshman.”

“We share a certain history, yeah.”

Kirby then talks to the detective about her file on the case and offers to share. Amelie zones it out, she didn’t care that much, and she just wanted to leave. She was tired and none of them have had a blink of sleep all night from all the back-to-back action that these past 24 hours has packed in. Amelie starts to concentrate in on the conversation when she sees a new evidence bag placed in the detective’s hands, the mask left from the bodega.

“DNA traces to two individuals; Charlie Walker and Jill Roberts, both deceased,” The detective reads the writing on the bag out loud to the group of girls. Amelie looks at Kirby and she sees the distant glaze covering her eyes.

“Ghostface killers of 2011. Charlie Walker gave me this,” Kirby lifts her shirt up and shows her scar that rested on her side. “Like I said, I take a special interest. Was this the mask he was wearing when he attacked you?”

“No,” Tara shakes her head at the question.

“So, he’s leaving them on purpose,” Detective Bailey gathers.

“Which means whoever is doing this is a student of the killers who came before. Maybe he believes Sam is the latest in a long line,” Kirby suggests, looking at Sam. Though Sam looks like she wants nothing to do with it.

“Yeah, goodluck with that. We’re getting out of town,” Sam grabs both Amelie’s and Tara’s shoulders as she turns them around to start walking out of the station. Their moves halt when Detective Bailey lets them know they can’t. “I’m sorry that’s not possible. You’re all persons of interest in a double homicide, so you’re not allowed to leave town, sorry.”

“He’s right, but if we work together-“ Kirby tries again, thinking that maybe if she offers to help Sam and the girls then it would will them to stay.

“We’re going,” Sam says pointedly. Her decision was already made, and Sam was not going to involve herself, and especially not Tara and Amelie, in a direct investigation to find out who the killer is this time. She has built up so much paranoia over the last year and clearly, it was worthy.

The girls push through the doors of the police station to be greeted by a swarm of people with microphones and cameras, all yelling out different questions for the girls to answer. Sam walks behind the girls and pushes at both their shoulders to shove past the people and ignore their questions. They were not going to get a word, nor a reaction from the three and Sam was going to make sure of it. As they manage to push through the crowd and walk towards their Taxi waiting for them on the side of the road, they hear a voice quip up. Gale.

“Gale Weathers, Channel four. Do you ladies think you’re the reason the Ghostface killer has come to the big apple?”

Amelie’s eyes widen when she sees Sam swing and Gale ducks. “Nice try sweetie, but I’ve done this dance before.”

Tara sees her opportunity and lands a punch on Gale. “Stay away from us.”

Sam grabs Amelie’s hand to keep her walking with them instead of turning back to go with Gale. She knows the woman means a lot to Amelie and vice versa, but she also knows that Gale is conniving and is trying to worm her way into the situation again.

“Are you really still mad at me?” Gale recovers quickly from the punch and chases after the girls. Guess after all that practice, she’s learned how to recover fast.

“You said you weren’t going to write a book about what happened, and then you wrote a book about what happened.” Sam says angrily to Gale.

“Oh, come on, somebody was gonna to write about it. That’s what I do,” Gale replies, trying to reason with the angry sister.

“I heard you couldn’t sell the movie rights,” Tara questions, looking at Gale with a curious, but sarcastic, look on her face.

“It’s-it’s all about true crime limited series these days,” Gale attempts to defend herself. Yeah, her attempt to have movie rights didn’t go as she planned but she was not about let the girls know it got to her.

“It-it's just that after everything we went through together, Gale, everything you and my dad went through-“ Amelie finally speaks up. She understands where the sister’s frustration was coming from, she felt it back when she first read the book. She was also incredibly tired and heavy from the blood on her clothes, making her all the more irritable. “-what would Dewey think?”

Gale stares at Amelie in shock and pain flashes across her eyes. She looks as if she just got stabbed, not expecting that from Amelie of all people. “That was a low blow.”

“So was your book. You called me unstable and born killer.” Sam spikes back to Gale. She really wishes she could have landed that punch on Gale because her frustration is peaking again.

“That was taken out of context.”

“That’s literally a quote.”

“You don’t think what you wrote has something to do with what is happening to us?” Tara asks Gale and shakes her head.

“Come on,” Sam says, and the three make their way to a taxi. Right before they began to step into the car, Gale called out which halted their movements.

“Hey, I talked to Sidney.”

“She’s not coming here, is she?” Sam asks with concern. She can’t have Sidney come back here and go through this all again for the sixth time. This was her battle, her fight.

“No, she sends her love but she’s taking Mark and the kids some place safe. She deserves to have her happy ending,” Gale responds which sends a wave of relief in the younger girls in front of Gale.

“Then that much we agree,” Sam says before she ushers Amelie into the taxi and her following.

“Wait! Mel!” Gale calls and Amelie looks at her from inside the taxi. Mel was a nickname given to Amelie by Gale and only she was reserved to call her that. When she was a really young girl and her dad married Gale, the older women cared for her like she was her own. This included giving her a nickname that only Gale called her, and Amelie cherished the name so much. “I tried calling you, earlier.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says, nodding her head. “I-I wanted to answer but-“

“-but I declined it for her,” Sam interrupts her. She was done talking to Gale and needed them to leave, now. Maybe she might get the chance to take that swing at Gale after all.

“Hey! I want to catch this fucker as much as you do,” Gales calls out one more time as Sam follows Amelie into the back of the taxi. With just Tara left to get in she finishes the conversation.

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just afraid that without Ghostface in your life, you’re gonna fade away.”

Back at the apartment, Quinn received a text from her dad and let the group know that there was another Ghostface attack at the bodega and the three girls were there. She let the group know that they got taken to the station for questioning and should be on their way home soon. Amelie also sent Ethan a quick text letting him briefly know they had a run in with the killer and were on their way. She did promise to call him if they had any trouble and while she didn’t get the chance to do that, she figured a brief text would have to suffice for that. The rest of the friends stayed at their apartment, worried about the girls as they were out. After hearing from Quinn everything that happened, they decided to stay until they come back to make sure they were okay and because they wanted to show their support. Amelie, Tara, and Sam are their best friends, their family, and they will do what they need to make sure they are okay.

So, when the front door of the apartment opens and in walks three sweaty girls with one who also has blood covering her pants and some of her shirt, the friends rise from their seats and rushes to them.

Mindy gasps when she sees Amelie and rushes to her side. “Oh my god, Amie, are you okay?”

Ethan perks up even more after hearing Mindy and looks at Amelie. He sees the distant look in her eyes and heads to stand next to her as well. The group, with looks of concern, wait patiently for any one of the girls to start speaking so that’s what Sam does. She explains everything that happened from leaving the apartment down to getting into the taxi.

Amelie can feel the eyes on her, she does have blood stains on her covering her, so it is within reason, and she probably reeks of iron. “We were running out of the bodega, and I slipped on some guy’s blood and fell in it. It’s not mine, don’t worry.”

Mindy from beside her holds Amelie’s arm as she tries to take her shoes off, that also have blood covering them. Guess those will also have to go, she thinks. Amelie continues to speak as she kicks the shoes off her feet, “I just need to get these clothes off of me and take a shower.”

Ethan stares at the red stains on her and feels angry again. Though he is relieved that the blood is not hers, he knows that it could have been her blood and it could have been her body they were picking up onto a gurney and placing in a bag.

“Well, we’re glad you guys are okay,” Anika says as she walks with Amelie and Mindy to her room.

“Yeah, me too,” Amelie says with a grateful smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She almost felt as if the blood was hers and she was stabbed all over again by the amount of attention she was getting from this. She was grateful her friends care so much, but it was almost too overwhelming. Mindy and Anika leave the room to let Amelie get changed and take a shower where she is left by herself and her thoughts. As she peels the first layer of her clothes off a knock comes from door, and she rolls her eyes. God, she just wants to be left alone after everything. She stalks to her door in only her tank top and pants now and opens the door to reveal Ethan who looks concerned.

“What’s up?” She stays at the entry and holds the doorknob.

“I’m sorry if I am bothering you, I just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay,” Ethan says nervously. He looks down to see if she is still wearing the clothes and she is, just less than before. Her tank top has some blood stains which must have leaked through from the long sleeve she was previously wearing. Blush rises to his cheeks, realizing he just subtly checked her out before looking back into her eyes where she appears tired and sunken in, though there is a hint of amusement laced in her expression.

“I am doing okay, Ethan. I was just about to take a shower, anyways,” She replies and nudges her head to the bathroom across the hall from her room.

“Oh okay, yeah, I guess you should do that,” Ethan nods his head before his expression changes, and he furrows his eyebrows. “Wait-wait, not that you need to or anything, it’s just because you have blood on you and stuff and you probably just want to get clean from everything, sorry.”

Amelie manages to let out a chuckle and shakes her head at him. “I know what you meant, don’t worry.”

She looks at him and thinks about everything that has happened this past night. She has been wanting to be alone this whole time to just be able to lay down and clean up but maybe being with someone won’t be as bad tonight as she thought. Because as she looks at him now, she can see that he cares and that he wants to be there for her. All this time she has refused her feelings down for him because she was so scared of what may happen if she acted upon it. She has a pretty good feeling that he also likes her the same way she does him, maybe even more, so she makes up her mind. She is so tired of feeling scared all the time and if she’s going to be fearful, then it’s going to be something worth being scared about and not about some boy. Time seems to run too fast in her world and she has learned that the hard way.

“Uhm, would you want to, maybe, stay? For a bit? I-I will go get clean and stuff, but you can just chill here, and we can hang out after I’m done? If you’re not busy, of course,” Amelie looks at him nervously now as she proposes the idea to him. Please say yes and make me not look like a total fool.

“Yeah, of course.” Ethan looks shocked that she asked and nods his head rapidly. He clears his throat, "I would give you a hug, but uh, I am not too keen on swapping blood."

“I will be right back, then you can give me a hug. Free of blood transfers,” Amelie smiles and lets him into her room before exiting to the bathroom. Ethan takes a seat on her desk chair, not wanting to sit on her bed without his permission and smiles to himself. All the anger he felt earlier has evaporated from his body and nothing but excitement and joy has replaced it. Something about her asking him to stay with her just makes his tummy feel funny and makes him think that waiting all this time to let her get close to him was worth it. He knows that they have hung out along countless times before, but something about it feels different.

Ethan sends a quick text to Chad to just let him know that he was staying with Amelie for the next couple of hours, to which Chad replies with a finally man! Guess you did listen and make a move, get it roomie :) and then followed it with but pls take care of her though, she could probably use it.

Soon enough Amelie enters the room again with wet hair and clothed in some shorts and a large pyjama shirt. Ethan looks up quickly at the girl and puts the picture frame he had in his hand back on her desk.

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t snooping or anything, it was just there,” Ethan says nervously as he looks at her anxiously. He recognized her dad, of course he did, he was one of the legacy survivors of the original Ghostface attacks. So, he looked at the photo to see her smile so wide, he didn’t know she had the capability of doing so. He wonders if he could have ever had the same relationship with his dad as she did with Dewey and he feels jealous, almost, that even with everything that was currently planned with his family, he would never get that same amount of love. Guilt also begins to eat away at his stomach as he thinks of his family’s plans, knowing that they are the same plans that took away the person she cared about the most. But he also knows how it feels to lose a family member. Though, the circumstances are very different, and while he seeks revenge, she looks for comfort. While anger is ridden in both the young adults, the two use it to their advantage in very different ways.

Amelie notices his panicky actions and walks towards him where she grabs his hands to pull him up from her desk chair and wraps her arounds around his torso, finally getting that hug. Ethan is quick to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. Amelie closes her eyes and places her head on his chest, listening to his heart and the silence of her room. Ethan smiles at her action and rests his cheek on the top of her head. They don't hug often, Amelie is not one to be very touchy with her friends, but any time that it has happened, it feels so nice. Her height was perfect to place directly on his chest, near his neck and his large frame was so comforting as it wraps around her. The two feel so content being engulfed in each others presence. Not only did Amelie need this hug after everything that has happened over the past night, but hugging Ethan just felt so normal.

Although Amelie nor Ethan want to pull away, Amelie does so she can finally put some ointment on her throbbing palms. She picks the frame back up from the desk and then heads to sit on the edge of her bed. Looking back at her was an old photo of her dad and her. She remembers the day the photo was taken; it was a couple of months before the attacks last year when they went to go visit Sidney for the weekend. She had to practically force him to snap the photo with her, but she was glad she did. He smiles down at her while she stares at the camera with a smile almost as bright as the sun. Amelie smiles now as she looks at the photo and traces her finger along the side of the frame.

Ethan makes his way to her and takes a seat on the side of the bed with her. It felt so wrong to be messing with her like this, but he had to keep it up. “That’s your dad, right?”

“Yeah,” Ethan watches her nod and his heart seizes when he sees the pain in her eyes. “He was the best.”

Amelie reaches over by her bedside table and places the photo down on it before picking up a small tube of cream. She needed to stop looking at the picture for too long or else tonight would become another one of the countless nights where she would sob as she held something of her dads to sleep. Ethan can tell that she probably wanted to continue talking about her dad but still found it difficult to.

Amelie opens up the ointment and begins to attempt to put some cream on her palms to help prevent an infection from all the cuts the glass caused and winces. She sees Ethan staring at her hands out of the corner fo her eye. “We had to crawl and there was shattered glass everywhere. Some of it just cut through my hand. Not bad enough for stitches, thankfully.”

Ethan listens to her and pictures her at the bodega, scared with blood on her hands. He hates that, although he didn’t do it himself, he is part of the reason that it happened. He glances down again at her hands, raw and cut, “I can help if you want. It may be a bit easier for you if you’re not doing it.”

Amelie looks at him and passes over the cream. She faces her palms up and pushes them closer to him.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Ethan mutters as he begins to lightly spread of the ointment over her palm. Even though her palms are cut, her hands are soft, and he wishes he could hold them all day long. This was the closest he has ever been to her and he is shitting himself. He can feel the heat of her body and smell the scent of her conditioner, itching to get closer but he knows he should just focus on getting her hands all cleaned up.

“You couldn’t,” Amelie all but whispers bravely as she looks up at him through her eyelashes. He was so pretty, and she was really realizing it now in this moment. His brown eyes so soft and lips so full. His curly hair looks so soft, Amelie almost wants to touch it and wrap a curl around her finger. The pad of his finger runs over one of the deeper cuts and she winces, then chuckles, “Maybe you could.”

Ethan looks up at her finally and gives her a smile. She is so close to him that all he had to do was lean forward and their lips could be attached. He briefly closes his eyes to rid himself of his thoughts, so he doesn’t get ahead of himself and re-opens then. He licks his lips before whispering, “Tell me about your dad.”

She looks at him with furrowed eyebrows. Whatever she was thinking that he was going to say next, that was not it. But, although she was a little shocked he wanted her to talk about her dead dad and that he was so willing to listen, she also wouldn’t pass up a chance to talk so greatly about him. “Uh, well, he was a cop for a long time before he decided to retire just before he died.

He had a sister, my aunt Tatum, who I never got to meet, but he always talked about her so highly and I could tell that he loved her a lot. Which is where i got my middle name; Amelie Tatum Riley. I only ever lived with him and rarely saw my mom because she was apparently always too busy, but I think my dad just said that so it would hurt my feelings a little less. He also was my best friend, and I would talk to him about everything. He would teach me how to defend myself since I was little, in case I ever needed to, which I guess came in handy, huh? But he would also tell me after every session or lesson that I shouldn’t need to worry too much about using my skills because he would be there to protect me from harm no matter where he was.”

Ethan looks at her intently as he also switches hands to start applying the cream onto her other palm. She has a faint smile lingering on her lips as she talks about Dewey and Ethan can’t help but be captivated by her as she speaks so fondly about the man that raised her.

“He would always show up to any recital or performance I had as a child because he swore he was always my number one fan. And at least once a week he would try to find time so we could go out to eat at this dinner back in Woodsboro,” Amelie takes a pause and lets out a breathy laugh. “He was also still into Gale, one hundred percent but he just would never admit it to me. I am sure he knew that I knew, though. I think that sometimes he wishes that he could have ended up with Gale and that she was my mom, but he didn’t really like to talk about it too much.”

Ethan finishes up and closes the tube of cream before handing it back to Amelie. Amelie takes one more pause from her speech about her father before finishing up, deciding to end it soon or she may feel inclined to start crying and she was absolutely not going to be doing that in front of Ethan. “He was just the best dad, and I wish I could have had more time with him.”

“He sounds like an amazing father. You were really lucky,” Ethan smiles at her, but that bitter feeling arises again. She did have a great dad and he would give just about anything to experience that same fatherly love she did with his own dad, but he guesses that he is, just in a completely different way. “And I’m sorry for, you know, your loss.”

“Yeah, he was,” She nods as she looks down at her now ointment treated hands. “And thank you. For asking me and listening and-” she holds her hands up briefly “-for this.”

She smiles in appreciation and puts the cream down on her side table. As she reaches over, her hair falls past her shoulder and down her back where her scar becomes visible to Ethan’s eye. Almost as if she can feel the tissue exposed, she takes her hair and places it back over her shoulder, ashamed of the mark.

She leans back over from her side table and sits back a bit further onto her bed to lean against the wall. Ethan scoots back towards her but doesn’t lean up against the wall just yet. Instead, he decides to fuck it and brushes her hair from off her shoulder to expose the scar once more. Maybe it was sick and twisted that he wanted to see it, see what his dead brother’s girlfriend did to her but he had to take a look. So, he did, and she let him.

Her breathe hitched in her throat as his fingers delicately traced over the line just above her collarbone, on the base of her neck. If she was going to let him in, then she might as well keep breaking more of her boundaries tonight.

“I got it last year from the last Ghostface attacks,” She whispers and looks straight ahead at her at the picture collage wall. One’s of her and her current roommates, some with Chad and Mindy, Wes, and the very few with Liv. Some with her dad and other group photos where she cut Amber’s figure out of them.

“Yeah, I-I figured,” Ethan whispers back. Although he obviously knew where she got it from, he played it off as just knowing from hearing it around. He feels sick again thinking about the fact that she got hurt from all of this and he vows to make sure she doesn’t get hurt the same way again, not on purpose or by the hands of his family.

“I also have a couple more but this-“ She gestures to her neck “-is the most visible, obviously.”

Ethan continues to trace the mark back and forth before looking at Amelie’s face to see how she is reacting. He is so screwed, and his dad is going to kill him for getting so invested in a girl, Dewey’s daughter nonetheless, but he just can’t help it. He knows how easily it would be for him to wrap his hands around her neck and kill her, one less person to get rid of for his dad and brother but he can’t do it and he just won’t. He feels the urge to protect her and wants to keep her safe from this whole plan, safe from getting hurt again.

Amelie looks at Ethan, feeling his eyes on her and they stare at one another. Ethan feels his heart leap and is wondering if this is what it’s like to actually be with someone you like. He has never been this close to a girl before so he’s wondering if the nerves is from his lack of experience or because he is finally getting his moment with the girl he has been crushing on for months now.

“Amelie-” Ethan pauses his movement on her scar and says her name.

“Amie,” Amelie cuts him off. “You can call me Amie. You always call me Amelie, but you can call me Amie.”

“Alright, Amie,” Ethan smiles and lets out a laugh. "I don't really know why, I guess everyone just calls you Amie, huh?"

Amelie smiles as he continues to move his fingers so delicately across the pink tissue. "You know...

I don't think you have to be so scared about hiding it so much. It's beautiful, in a way. You're a survivor."

"I just, I don't know..." Amelie pauses and swallows. She can feel her stomach turn inside out and she is almost tempted to tell him to stop so she can ensure she wouldn't throw up. And the way Ethan is touching her so gently, and looking at her so soft, she just might. "...am ashamed of it. It's gross, and people just stare when they see it. Especially when they know who was the one that did it to me."

"Well, people are stupid," Ethan smiles at her. The tension building between the two makes him want to scream out, tell her how beautiful she is, and kiss her face. But, he has never done that before and there is always this impending fear that she will never see him in that light. "And a scar means shit. People don't know a thing, but you do."

"And not that my word really matters, but uh," Ethan continues on and swallows any of his nerves. So very uncharacteristic of him, he tilts his head and leans towards her neck, delicately placing a small kiss on the scar. "It is nothing to be ashamed of, you're beautiful."

Amelie's heart picks up and she is surprised that Ethan can't hear it pound out of her chest. She almost can't breathe, the tension is too unbearable, and she just wants him to lift his head so he can kiss her instead.

In the back of her mind, she can hear screaming voice call to her, telling her to be careful and maybe not trust Ethan so easily, the same voice she heard back at the party with Dean. He seems to be too gentle with her to be a killer in disguise. Then again, so was Richie and Billy and Stu and Charlie. But it feels so right being here this close to him, feels so good to be held by his soft hands. Being this close to Ethan is exactly what she was picturing in her head when her lips were attached to Dean's, and now it is almost happening. So, once again, she decides to screw what her head is screaming at her and leans in closer to Ethan, giving him the hint to lift his head from her scar. He takes it and raises his head, now unbelievably close to the girls face. He can smell her coconut conditioner and the mint from her toothpaste, and is craving to taste her.

"You're not with that guy, right?" Ethan whispers, his breathe hitting Amelie's face and its intoxicating. "The one from the party."

Amelie looks in his eyes, her lids are heavy and vision glazed. She shakes her head lightly, "no."

"You know..." Amelie licks her bottom lip, it catching Ethan's eye and his breathe hilts in his throat.

"I was thinking of you when I was with him."

Ethan nearly lets out a groan. She was trying to kill him, he was sure of it.

Ethan brings one hand up, brushing a piece of fallen hair behind her ear and rests his hand there. Hearing those words did something to him, and he knew he needed to feel her lips on his this very moment. Knowing that she felt the same way as him made him more than relieved, especially knowing that he was on her mind when she had her lips on another boy. A small smirk raises on his lips. "Good."

She knows she should listen to the voice and be weary, fear who Ethan might be but in this moment she doesn’t care. So, she looks in his eyes one more time to see if there lays any hesitation or discomfort, and when she finds nothing but want and adoration, she leans in and finally lets their lips touch.

Ethan can feel how soft her lips are and never wants to pull away. He has been craving this since he first laid eyes on her, and now it is finally happening. He lets out a sigh of relief, his hand on her hip tightening to restrain the urge and desire in his body. Their lips together, touching one another felt so right, and they wonder why they haven't done that sooner. Their kiss lasts for all of three seconds before Amelie's door cracks open.

“Hey Amie, I brought you some tea-“ Quinn opens her bedroom door and begins before her eyes widen at the sight of the two teens in front of her. Amelie and Ethan jump apart at the sound of the redhead’s voice and Amelie scoots up the edge of her bed and away from the wall she was leaning on. She clears her throat and looks at Quinn with stern eyes before running her hands across her face. “I am so sorry, I-I didn’t know anyone else was here with you, Amie.”

“No, it-it’s okay, Quinn. Maybe knock next time, yeah? I don’t know just an idea,” Amelie shrugs and says sarcastically before standing up and making her way to stand in front of Quinn. The older girl looks at Amelie and mouths an I’m so sorry while handing her the cup of tea in her hand. Amelie looks back and sees Ethan stand up from her bed and pull down at the hem of his shirt.

“That is the second roommate I have done that to within the last day, I am such a cockblock. I’m so sorry,” Quinn says shaking her head as she takes the handle of the door and begins to back out of the room. “I made you the tea to, you know, maybe make you feel better after everything. I-sorry, I’m just gonna-“

Quinn points to behind her where she will be making her exit. As Amelie goes to place the cup of tea on her bedside table beside the ointment and picture frame, Quinn sneaks a glare at her brother and shakes her head, quick enough for Amelie not to see but for Ethan to catch. His heart jumps in his throat but he swallows it back down as he glares back at her. He knows she will be having a word with him about all of his later and that his dad will find out and he is screwed, once again. But fuck, it practically happened, and he has never felt so alive then he was in that moment. He had pictured the moment he could kiss Amelie for so long and it just happened, until it didn’t. So, Amelie turns to look at him and smiles sheepishly while Ethan looks at her and bites his lip to contain his smile. Ethan stays with her for the next couple of hours where he lays with her in her bed as she attempts get some rest. And though he held her as she slept, that almost kiss is the closest exchange the two have for the rest of the night. Because although their moment got interrupted, it was there. And as much as the two would like to go back in time and continue what almost happened, they at least both knew that their feelings were reciprocated and their hearts beat, almost at the same time.

#ethan landry #scream #scream vi #scream six #jack champion #ethan kirsch #dewey riley #ethan landry x reader #scream imagine #scream fanfic #ethan landry imagine #scream vi spoilers #scream vi x reader #scream ethan #ethan landry scream #scream 6 #scream x reader

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missathlete31 · 1 year

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Nowhere To Run- Chapter 7

Summary:

Jake and Bradley finally come to blows, literally

Warnings for physical fights, bad language and just a whole bunch of angst

The music was still playing, people were still dancing, the party was still in full swing, yet a blonde pilot stood in the center of it all, mind reeling from what had just transpired. Jake Seresin was in a semi-state of shock from his confrontation with Pete Mitchell, his heart thundering in his chest as the former captain’s words buzzed in his ears. He felt a hand grip his shoulder, startling the man so badly that he jumped back in alarm. Jake whipped around on his heels to be faced with a concerned looking Javy Machado, the man’s forehead creasing at his friend’s jumpiness. "Hey" Javy began, eyes narrowed as he took in Jake's paling face with a frown, "you alright?"

"Hm?" Hangman couldn't stop his gaze from trailing after the direction Maverick left in, "yeah fine,” his voice was as detached as his mind felt but Jake’ll be damned if he couldn’t at least attempt to slip back under his mask. “I’m good.”

Coyote didn't look like he believed him one iota, following Jake’s eyes to trail a ghost’s path through the dancers. He glanced back at his friend worriedly, "I saw you talking to Mav" the man levied, "how did that go?"

The blonde offered a shrug but it was a weak attempt at nonchalance, "A little weird” Jake finally conceded.

The other man bristled with snarky amusement, "Yeah no shit, the guy's looked like a zombie all night."

Jake didn't fully realize in his slightly dazed state, but Javy was subtly maneuvering him back towards their table and out of the crowd. Hangman let himself be manhandled, a sure sign in itself that he wasn’t in the best headspace at the moment. Javy’s hand was a comforting warmth on the back of Jake’s shoulder, steering him to a relative safety.

“What were you doing with him for so long anyway?” the darker skinned man asked curiously. When Jake stayed silent, Javy filled the quiet with more words. “You looked tense man, I tried to rescue you-" Coyote nodded over to where Fanboy was dancing with a young woman, "I was on my way until Mickey roped me into playing photographer for him and his date."

Jake snapped back to himself enough to wave the other man off, "it's fine, we were just- we were just talking."

"About what?" Javy pressed.

"Uh" Jake swallowed roughly. He wasn't quite sure where to begin, so much of that conversation had kept him off balance. "We talked about my future, kinda” his voice rose enough to make it sound like a question.

Coyote's brow furrowed but they reached the table before he had a chance to respond. Jake moved to sit, smiling weakly at Naomi who was engaged in a discussion with Callie and Marilyn, before he plopped in his chair. Javy followed suit, and then immediately turned back to his friend, "okay so you talked about your future? What about it?"

"Do you think I could ever become Admiral?" Hangman asked softly, voice unsure, "or is that just not in the cards for someone like me?"

It certainly wasn't what Javy was expecting his best friend to ask if the double take was any indication but the other man rolled with his surprise and offered a cheeky grin, "I mean I have a pretty embarrassing video of you dancing and singing to Salt 'N Pepa's ‘Push It’ that would probably disqualify you on sheer cringe level alone-"

Jake huffed a laugh that eased the tension that had been steadily building inside him since his talk with Mitchell, "that was you" he informed with mirth.

Javy tilted his head in contemplation, "was it? I mean I vaguely recall the dance moves being on point, so I guess that makes sense. No way your white ass can do anything but square dancing."

Hangman rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah."

"Hey" Coyote nudged him, his face turning serious, "you've been on that Admiral track since the academy, we've all seen it. Did Mav disagree or something?"

Jake looked down at his hands to avoid eye contact, playing with the blunt edges of his nails as he ran them across the white linens that rested on the table, "something like that" he admitted quietly.

"Well that's bullshit" Coyote's annoyance was palpable. "What did he say? That Rooster would be the better fit again?"

"He um...” Jake fidgeted, unsure why he was so nervous about telling his buddy what Mav had alleged. It wasn’t that he believed Javy would agree with the disgruntled Captain, if anything his best friend was more likely to freak out the minute Jake told him the truth. Yet something about saying those harsh words out loud made it feel like Jake was giving them some kind of credence. That the universe would declare that Pete was right after all and Jake’s career would be destined to flash out as quick as a blown out flame, ending with him in a pine box. Hangman shuddered, looking up to see Javy having caught the movement with a critical glare. “Jake-“ Coyote started with a voice of care, “what did he say?”

The blonde sighed, “He basically said that the best thing I could do for my career in the Navy was to die quick."

"Wait" Javy held up a hand as if to physically halt the conversation, the man not quite able to comprehend the words that had just come out of Jake’s mouth. "Captain Mitchell, your former CO, said what to you?"

"He said," and Hangman rubbed a weak hand behind his neck to ground himself, "that men like him and me... we don't rise up in the ranks, we don't go far, we are just meant to fly until we die and stop being liabilities."

Javy's face looked blank for a moment before it darkened with a murderous gleam, "okay first of all” the man looked to almost rise in his chair in his fury, “what the fuck man? Who the hell is he to say that to you?"

"Well he's been in the Navy for decades-"

"And only stayed a Captain!” Javy bit back immediately. “Um, hello projection of your own limitations, welcome to the table" the pilot looked livid, "Mav's pissed because his career is over so he's going to take it out on you? No way man, that's messed up."

"So you don't think it's true?"

Jake almost flinched at the look his best friend gave him. "No" Javy spoke especially slowly to make sure the man took in every word, "I don't. Shit Jake, don't tell me you do?"

"I don't know” the blonde muttered looking down once more. It’s amazing how fascinating a table cloth could be when you wanted to avoid your best friend’s scrutinizing gaze, “I have been pretty reckless in my flying,” Jake admitted out loud, “and I leave wingmen behind-"

"Not when it matters. Hey" Javy forced Jake to look at him, "not when it's ever mattered. Yeah you leave people behind in training. Is it annoying? Yeah. Does it make me want to go faster next time to wipe the smug smirk off your face? Hell yeah. And that's what it makes us all do; be better, be faster. But there has never been a time in all the years of flying with you that I have ever doubted you wouldn't be right there if any of us needed you. Shit man, the mission proved that enough."

"Yeah, I know, thanks Javy” but Jake’s eyes were still moving downcast, his voice holding the tiniest wobble of uncertainty. It was nice to have Javy’s staunch support but Maverick’s words still stung. Jake had always looked up to Pete Mitchell, of his accomplishment and his record of valor. Hearing the man exclaim they were similar should have been a compliment until it was finished with the warning that they were both better off dying young to get out of the way. Jake had no fears of dying, it was a possibility for all active duty military members, and he certainly would prefer dying for a purpose or to save someone if it had to happen soon. However he liked to think that he was more useful to this world alive rather than dead. Thinking any other way was a cruel pill he didn’t think he was strong enough to swallow.

Javy huffed in angry frustration when he saw his best friend still having trouble believing him, "I mean it Jake” he reiterated, “Mitchell was wrong, and I have half a mind to go smack the shit out of him for saying all this. Where the hell did he get off?"

"I ruined his career-"

"Did you?” Coyote challenged, his voice shifting into the tone he tended to get when he really wanted to get a point across to the normally hardheaded Hangman. “You're the reason he didn't get promotions all those years? You're the reason he decided to let his personal relationships dictate the plan for a suicide mission that impacted four other pilot’s lives? You’re the reason he decided to pull a dangerous stunt on a bunch of replacements that not only ended his career but theirs as well?” Javy leaned back in his chair with a look of over-exaggerated amazement, “Wow Jake” he mocked but not unkindly, “who knew you had that much control on other people's actions?"

The blonde scowled. It wasn’t as simple as Javy was making it sound but Jake could also concede that it wasn’t as complicated as he himself was making it. The truth was this whole situation was just plain unfortunate. Jake was sorry that the Dagger Squad didn’t become what some of the team wanted but he wasn’t sorry that he chose what made sense for him in his career. Maverick’s accident in the sky a few weeks ago was not Hangman’s fault. He wasn’t in the air that day and if a decision made months ago was enough to initiate such a visceral emotional response in someone like Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell that it affected his judgment up in the air, then the man shouldn’t have been in command anymore anyway; he was dangerous to everyone up there.

“I think we should head out” Coyote announced suddenly, looking to his wife who had stopped her other conversation to catch the tail end of the discussion with her husband and his best friend. Naomi nodded, “sure” she agreed amicably but Hangman instantly shook his head. “No we can’t leave” he argued, “they didn’t even serve dinner yet.”

“The perks of having a heavily pregnant wife dude” Coyote motioned to Naomi, “a built in excuse” he informed. His wife rolled her eyes with a mock slap to his arm, “I feel like I should be offended” she chided.

Javy gave a charming smile as he moved in to kiss the love of his life quickly on the lips, “I’ll make it up to you later with a foot rub.”

“Mmmm” the woman moaned as Javy’s lips moved to her neck, teasing the skin gently with just the barest hint of his teeth, “works for me. Use me as the excuse boys, I’m good with it.”

“No” Jake cut in; embarrassed that his friends needed to cut their night short because he got upset over a drunken man’s rambling. “Mav was just spouting nonsense alright? It wasn’t a big deal.” Hangman could tell the Machados weren’t completely convinced so he turned on the charm, “and look you both said this place is known for its steak right? So let’s wait at least until we get our dinners before we attempt our Irish goodbyes.”

The couple shared a glance. “You sure Jake?” Javy asked, looking like at the slightest nod from his best friend and he would have them all out of there in seconds. There was warmth in Hangman’s body from the other man’s fierce protectiveness that translated to a smile on the blonde’s face. “I’m sure” he nodded, “now come on, let’s try to enjoy ourselves while we wait for our food.” He offered a hand to Naomi who took it gracefully as he helped pull her up. Once standing, Jake swung the woman carefully in a spin, a high squeal of laughter erupting from the pregnant lady. Javy followed after the two as the trio made their way onto the dance floor to have some fun.

About a half an hour later the guests were being called back to their tables as dinner platters were being served. Jake found himself rosy with amusement and from the exertion of dancing, him and Javy pulling out all the stops to some of the old 90’s hits that the Fitchs’ DJ kept playing. It was the first time all night that Jake just closed off his mind and let go, the rest of the Daggers following suit until they seemed to take over the entire dance floor. Payback was pulling off bad break dancing movies to the amusement of his new wife, Callie and Omaha tried the dirty dancing lift but almost took out poor Bob and Fanboy stole a microphone and attempted some bad karaoke. Jake and the others laughed more out there then he could ever remember, and it made him happy, so happy, that he didn’t chose to leave back when he did. He would have been sad to have missed this time.

As they all headed back to their seats, Jake’s contentment had lulled him back into a pleasant mood, the earlier issues with Maverick put to the backburner in his mind. He sipped some water before he nodded over to Javy, “Hey man, I gotta hit the head, be back in a sec.”

“Do you want me to go with-“ but Javy cut off at the steely look he received from his friend. “Alright” the man conceded with a wiry grin, “just offering” he held his hands up in mock surrender.

“I think I can manage on my own, thanks” Jake informed, “been potty-trained for quite a while now actually.“

“Well that’s a relief to hear Seresin, we were all so worried” Yale and Harvard were heading back to the table from their time on the dance floor, both shiny with sweat and flushed with merriment as they caught the tail end of the conversation. Hangman offered them both a curt middle finger as he took his leave, their laughs washing over him as he headed for the men’s room.

Jake’s destination was in his peripheral as he squeezed around the last few groups of people making their way back to their seats. He was nearly there when a hand shoved him roughly to the right, almost sending the blonde into an elder couple that was still dancing but Jake luckily managed to catch himself in time.

He turned around, thoroughly confused until an angry Bradley Bradshaw was suddenly right in his vision. The man’s hand reached for him once more this time physically manhandling him the rest of the way out of the reception room and taking him into the deserted hall. Jake offered a protest but it was largely ignored, only when they were finally far enough away from the main doors did Rooster lessen his grip and all but throw Hangman away from him.

The younger man poised himself, readying for a fight, his green eyes constricted with annoyance only to see Bradley’s brown eyes were locked and loaded, staring at Jake with such primitive disgust it almost made the blonde want to recoil. But Jake refused to back down, “If you wanted to dance Bradshaw” he mocked with a long Texas drawl, “all you had to was ask-“

Rooster’s face reddened, “You had to rub it in, didn’t you?” he asked, the fury so visceral that his spit clung to the corner of his mouth like foam to a rabid dog. “You couldn’t just leave well enough alone-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Cut the shit” the man demanded, hand pulling on Jake’s uniform when he dared to take a step back, “where the hell do you get off doing that?”

“Doing what?” Hangman questioned, arms ripping out of Bradley’s grip to raise them in confusion, “I’m trying to go take a piss and you’re grabbing me like you want a pissing contest-“

“I grabbed you because once again” the older man huffed, “you had to take your victory lap.”

“What victory lap?” Jake’s face couldn’t hide his perplexity, “shit Bradshaw what are you drunk or something?”

“Mav!” Bradley screeched, “You just had to go up to him, had to rub it in that he lost everything when it was all because of you!”

“Me!” Jake exasperation was tangible, his righteous anger beginning to simmer, “Mav started it! He brought it up! I was trying to get a drink and he decided to air out every grievance he has against me!”

“A move you perfected asshole, or does the day in the hangars not ring a bell?”

Hangman scoffed, “he confronted me that day too and you know it.”

“You tell yourself whatever you want princess” Rooster jeered, “but it doesn’t fix what you did tonight. Mav is hurting you asshole, I know this might be hard for you to understand since you have more concern for toothpicks than you do other people but he didn’t need this.”

“I didn’t do anything” Jake pushed back, not relenting. “I said hello because he was right there. He was the one that started with his pity party and then he was the one that said some pretty fucked up things to be me in the process.”

“His career, that he worked decades on, is over, what do you expect?”

“Decorum?” Jake waved his arms out in front of him for emphasis, “Decency? Shit, I don’t know, maybe some accountability? He almost killed three pilots that day-”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “He pulled the same moves he did for us the first day and we were all fine-“

“It doesn’t mean that it was right!”

“- and it would had been fine that day too if we were all still a team, if Mav still had his Daggers” Bradshaw continued as though Jake never interrupted. He pointed a finger at the man opposing him, “but you took that from him, and you broke something in him when you did it.”

“Oh for shit’s sake, get a new story” the blonde moaned, “Mitchell lost the Daggers when he chased after you with his tail between his legs because his dear Rooster was upset. The other guys saw that and they knew that they would never be worth more to their Commanding officer as his precious Bradley freaking Bradshaw. His judgments and his decisions would always be clouded by you!”

Bradley looked ready to kill, “Well I’m sorry that my father died and Mav decided to be a more decent human being than you’ll ever even comprehend and look after his wingman’s family. I’m sorry that his heart, the same one that cared about all the Daggers even your selfish ass, told him it was more important to look after me and my mom than how it would impact his career-“

“And that’s why no one has ever said he wasn’t a good man Bradshaw” Jake was yelling now, trying to be heard over the other man, “but he shouldn’t have been your CO too! It’s not professional, there are rules about it!”

“He was the only person that was getting us through that mission alive and now he’s kicked out of the Navy. Are you proud of yourself now Seresin? His career is ruined-“

“Mav ruined his career all on his own, okay? An action a long time coming from the way he deals with stress-“ the quip earned a hard shove from his adversary, Jake stumbling back a few paces before he could catch himself right-footed once more. The anger in Hangman was blatant now. The normally composed man enraged once again by this same old argument; the fact that he couldn’t even get up from his table without finding some sort of confrontation tonight also exasperating his frustration. “But you’re familiar with that aren’t you Rooster?” he questioned, going in for the cheap shot, “blaming everything else but yourself for your own fuck-ups?”

“Rich from you Dagger Spare” Bradley spat the last words like they were curses, throwing back Jake’s biggest insecurity to his face. “Standing on your high horse telling everyone that can listen that the reason you didn’t get picked was because Mav was trying to win me back. But tell me Hangman, did you ever sit back and think that maybe it was because you weren’t the right fit?”

Jake huffed out a breath with an eye roll, “I’m a better pilot than you Bradshaw-“

“If you need to stroke your own ego again, then fine” the other man acquiesced to the surprise of the younger man, “sure, you’re the better pilot, but I was the one who had the others behind me. I was the one they trusted!” Rooster smirked when he saw Hangman’s face fall, “that was more important for the mission” the brunette explained, “more important than speed.”

He wasn’t wrong. Jake loathed admitting it but Bradley wasn’t wrong. Coming into the mission Jake played his Hangman persona too much; was a little too heavy handed with the bravado and the snark. His introduction to the other pilots had them rolling their eyes at his attitude and muttering about him under their breaths and even to his face. They didn’t like him, and after his show with Phoenix and Bob, they didn’t trust him. Bradshaw meanwhile, had spent the first hop taking the hit for Payback and Fanboy, instantly revering him in the eyes of his team as a selfless and team player. He earned all their trust on the same day Jake lost it. His face must have shown the realization because Rooster immediately smiled, cold and harsh in the lights of the hallway, “yeah” Bradshaw nodded, “doesn’t feel so great when the truth hits does it?”

Jake felt his face flush as the desperate need to escape overwhelmed him. It was foolish to engage with Bradshaw, to get into these conversations over and over once again, and it especially didn’t help when Jake was feeling a little too tongue tied to properly defend himself. But leaving now seemed like the coward’s answer and Hangman would never allow himself to be that. “Fine” the blonde submitted, “maybe I wasn’t the right choice but the others-“

“You have never given a shit about Fritz not being the one picked” Bradshaw cut in immediately, his words slapping down Jake’s arguments like gnats as he took a step closer, popping the blonde’s personal space bubble until they were almost nose to nose, “you used him to make you point that day but it meant nothing. That day it was about you, it’s always about you Hangman.”

It was Jake’s turn to push, shoving Bradley enough for the brunette to lose his balance for a moment, “back off Bradshaw” the blonde warned.

Rooster grinned wickedly, walking closer once more and giving Jake a shove of his own, “what’s the matter Seresin? The facts hurt too much?”

“I said back off-“

“Aw” Bradley mocked, “Hangman’s got no witty retort, no little comeback? Is it because you know it’s true?” he smirked just like Jake always did. “Face it Seresin, all you will ever care about, is yourself. That’s why you have no friends, no one to go to bat for you besides Javy and that’s out of pity than anything else. You came after me and Mav after the mission because we did something that no one will ever do for you, we went back for each other. You’re a shitty teammate, that’s why you weren’t picked. No one has ever fought to fly with you and they never will. You’ll never be the commander you dream to be so why don’t you just keep hanging people out to dry and start counting fallen wingmen as your air to air kills. Should reach that Ace status real quick that way.”

Jake opened his mouth but nothing came out, just the white noise of building ire spurning in his gut. He locked eyes with Bradshaw, rage meeting rage as the older man went in for the kill. “I mean, unless one of your teammates knocks you off first“ Rooster laughed with barely contained glee, “maybe that will be the early grave Mav told you about right? He was telling me about your conversation at the bar and I must say I agree” the mustached man shared, “you’d do the world a much bigger favor going out before you leave more of our pilots out to dry. I’m sure your parents would concur wouldn’t they?”

And then Jake lunged.

It was stupid and unbelievably out of character for Hangman but he didn’t care at the moment. As much as he enjoyed his silver tongue he never enjoyed physical altercations and he normally never started them. But Bradshaw’s words hit too many nerves, too many insecurities; rubbing into all the wounds that Maverick had splayed open not two hours before. The blonde couldn’t help the rush of fury as he launched himself at the brunette with a clenched fist. Bradley welcomed it, more than prepared and ready to use his size to his advantage but before they could inflict any real damage besides pushes and shoves, they were stopped.

“Hey!” Rough hands were throwing Jake back as he vaguely recognized Omaha and Harvard grabbing Rooster. “Hey!” Fanboy was standing in between them, his face livid, “what the hell is this?” he asked out loud but no one responded. “I said, what the hell is this?” he chastised again as though they were children and not grown men, “You both promised you’d behave tonight! That you wouldn’t cause a scene at your friend’s wedding-“

“I’m cool” Rooster shrugged off the others, giving a valiant performance of how Hangman reacted in their classroom altercation all those months ago, “I’m cool” he smirked again.

Jake wished he had gotten a punch in, wished he could have slammed his fist into Bradley’s pompous face for doing this to him again and again; pushing him and getting under his skin. He was aware that Rooster had probably felt this same way about him numerous times in the past and maybe even now although he hid it behind the cocky façade, but Jake wouldn’t dwell on that. He couldn’t right now. Right now he just wanted to get out of any space with Rooster in it before he did something he’d regret.

“Jake-“ Javy was there, pulling Hangman back while still watching his flank in case Bradley got close again, “what the hell happened?”

“I need some air-“ Jake croaked, the events of this wedding just become too much. For a man that prided himself on keeping his cool, the blonde was way too close to losing it, “I gotta get some air” he all but begged again.

“Okay yeah” Javy was steering him once more, this time towards the exit and away from the other’s who were taking Bradley back inside the party. “Come on” Javy urged still pushing Hangman along, hovering right next to him like a guiding light in the storm, “let’s get outside-“

“I need air on my own Coyote-“ Jake fought to take control of his own movements again, simultaneously hating losing Javy’s kindness but needing a moment to get himself back under control in private. “I just need a minute.”

The other man instantly shook his head, “I don’t think so, every time you leave my sight you’re getting into it with someone else.”

“Javy-“

“I’m not letting you-“

“Damn it Javy, I’m not a child!”

“I’m not saying you are but-“

“Will you leave me alone for Christ’s sake!” he finally screamed, stopping their movements like a petulant child, “I don’t need you on my ass every second! I can get some damn air by my damn self okay? SO BACK OFF!”

The second Jake spoke the words he regretted them. Javy stuttered back immediately, taking his hands off the blonde and holding them up in a placating manner. His face looked hurt long enough for Jake’s heart to clench before the darker skinned man schooled his features. “Fine” Coyote told him, a little colder than he usually spoke to his best friend, “I’ll just wait for you in here okay? Call me if you need anything.” Before Jake could even reply, the man had walked off.

Jake cursed himself as he headed outside the wedding venue, annoyed at his emotional displays throughout this night. He hadn’t meant to snap at Javy, of all the people here tonight he was the one looking out for Jake the most, but of course Hangman managed to ruin that too.

He was ruining a lot of things lately apparently.

The night air cooled the flush of anger on Jake’s face as he closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. He was tired, so tired, and he knew he needed to own up to his outburst and apologize to Javy before they all took their leave for the night. Any enjoyment left to be had was over, the night spoiled.

Jake sighed, steadying himself against a pillar on the back porch of the country club. It was a cloudy night, even the stars hiding from Jake and his anger, but he still managed to catch a few glimpses of passing airplanes in the sky to ground himself.

After a few minutes of calming breaths, Hangman brought his eyes back to level ground, noticing a woman sitting on a bench down the sidewalk. The dress uniform and bun confirmed it was a woman and considering he had last seen Halo, shaking her head in disappointment over Jake and Bradley’s fight, that meant the woman on the bench could only be Natasha Trace. Jake paused for a moment, unsure if he should approach. There was a nagging voice in his ear that sounded suspiciously like Javy Machado, warning him with a shout that the last thing he needed was another conversation right now but the blonde ignored it, moving instead out into the mild Florida night and walking towards his former teammate.

The woman tensed up at the footsteps, her body almost prepping herself until she saw it was Jake in front of her. She lowered her defensives immediately, making Jake feel better about his decision to engaged.

“Phoenix” He drawled out with a teasing tone, trying not to show his surprise that the woman was actually staying to chat instead of retreating like she did during the cocktail hour.

Natasha’s dark eyes closed for a moment, as she let out a sigh, “Bagman” she greeted, voice measured though it sounded like it was taking more of an effort than usual.

There was so much Jake wanted to say, wanted to ask, but he stayed silent for a moment. The normally talkative blonde felt every word in his arsenal insufficient for this moment. “It’s- been a while” he finally settled on, just as inadequate but at least it got a reaction. Phoenix sized him up; a smirk playing on her lips that made Jake wanted to jump for joy for the win of seeing some sort of life to Natasha again, the fire that been missing from the woman making everyone in the vicinity of Phoenix feel so very cold. “How have you been?” he levied when it dawned on him that conversation was going to be his responsibility out here.

She shrugged, looking down at her dress shoes that were half buried under the pretzel style position she sat in, “been better” she finally shared.

“Yeah” Jake spared a glance around before moving to sit next to her. It made him keep his back to the country club which made him feel exposed but he didn’t like standing over Phoenix either, “I heard things have been rough for the squad lately.”

Nat only scoffed in reply before her mouth fell quiet once more.

Jake whistled for a moment in the silence that followed, the notes barely making a tune before trying his hand with Trace again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She set a glare on him but it missed the playful annoyance and contempt that it usually held, still too lifeless to be a normal Phoenix scowl. “Why would I want to do that” she asked.

“Didn’t you know?” Jake feigned surprise, “I’m a great listener.”

“Right” the tiniest lift appeared on Nat’s lips, almost like her body was slowly losing the fight to hold in all her emotions. “That’s what everyone says about you Bagman.”

“Hey” he nudged her gently, “come on, talk to me Trace, you’re starting to freak me out with all this brooding silence.”

“I just don’t want to hear it” she muttered, avoiding his eyes.

“Hear what?”

“The ‘I told you so’.”

Jake sighed, cursing Javy once again for being right as he shifted to face the woman next to him and preparing for one more confrontation. So much for a nice leisurely talk. “So if you don’t want me to say I told you so” he began, keeping his calm but still being pressing, “then you must see it?” the blonde questioned, “how much you’ve changed.”

She narrowed her eyes, “I see you dying to say it but no, actually, I haven’t changed.”

“Really?” Jake shot back heatedly, “because I heard you’re the new big bully in town, knocking out WSO’s without a second glance-“

“They couldn’t keep up” she mocked and Jake couldn’t help the exasperated sigh that escaped him. How tired he was of people throwing his own words back at him tonight. He glared at Natasha with a small shake of his head, “fine, you don’t want to have this conversation I won’t force you but I will say it” he leaned in, watching as her brown eyes found his face, “I told you so. I told you to leave Bradley Bradshaw in your rear view mirror before this could happen, before he could ruin you.“

“He didn’t ruin me!”

“He did! You’re a freaking shadow of yourself!” Hangman knew he was yelling but he didn’t care, the desperation for the woman next to him to see what he saw making the words ooze out of him, “God damn it Nat, where is Phoenix, where is the fireball that kicked all of our asses into gear?”

“She grew up Jake” she shot out, that fiery temper no longer hidden as she pointed a stern finger at him like she used to do when she would lecture him on his bad teamwork, “like we all are meant to!”

“Bullshit” he pressed forward, forcing her finger all the way into his chest, heat rising in him when she didn’t pull it alway. “Where is Phoenix, the actual leader in every squad she joins? Where is Phoenix, the one who gets everyone flying their best without nastiness or competition but by camaraderie and teamwork? Where is Phoenix, the woman who has never cowered to anyone? Where is she?” the blonde continued, working himself into a huff, “because she’s sure as shit not here. Letting Bradshaw tell her when to sit and who to talk to and hiding her in a corner this whole night-“

“You don’t… “

“I don’t what?” he interrupted when she seemed to hesitate, “I don’t understand? I don’t know? I don’t get it?” he clung to her hands and resisted the urge to shake them until he got some real answers from the woman in front of him, “what is it Nat? Tell me-“

“You want to be mad at me for not listening to you that day outside of Top Gun but you don’t get it” she implored, “I didn’t have the choice you had.”

“You did” the blonde instigated further, “you were just too afraid to make it.”

“No” Nat’s eyes were flashing now, the most emotion she had shown all night and Jake couldn’t stop the joy in his heart at the sight of some fire from this bird. Nat deserved to feel again. “I had to stay okay, I had to!”

“Why?”

“Because I left him!” Natasha screamed, loud and clear in the dark night, “I left him in the sky that day, I left him, my best friend to d-die-“ she stuttered, a sob rippling through her small frame and heaving from her mouth, “I- I’m his b-best friend and I-“

“Shhh” Jake was grabbing her then, the woman not even putting up a protest as he brought her into his chest and rocked her softly, “Nat, you didn’t have a choice-“

“I-I didn’t even… I didn’t even look for a parachute” she sniffled, a wetness settling through Jake’s dress whites telling him she was crying though she managed to still speak, “I just headed back to the carrier,” she told him devastatingly, “I only worried about getting out of there and following orders.”

"Nat-"

"Don’t” she warned, muffled but still holding a threat, “you can’t say anything because even you Hangman” he hated the way his call sign fell from her lips, “went back for them and you hate Rooster. But me, his best friend, I turned tail and ran-“

Jake pulled the woman out a little so she could see him, the look of guilt in her eye a familiar feeling for the blonde that he hated to see the woman in front of him struggle with as well, "You had Bob, Natasha, you weren't the only one in that plane."

“It doesn’t matter-“

“It does,” he pushed, hoping his own conviction could persuade her, “you owed it to your WSO to get him home and you did. You did your job Natasha.”

She pulled all the way out of his grip, running fingers under her eyes to clean up her make-up and tears, "I still left him” she spoke up sadly, “I still left him behind.”

“So what?” Hangman questioned, “You feel guilty about that day so you’re going to make sure you never leave Bradshaw again? Ever? Does that sound rational to you?”

“Jake-“

“You are not yourself with him, don’t even try to deny it” he told her sternly when she opened her mouth to retort. “And if he cared about you even a quarter of the way you care about him he would see it too and he would let you go. He shouldn’t want this for you!”

Nat shook her head, “he does care about me, more than you know-“

“Then it should be a no brainer” Jake moved closer, inches from the woman’s face, “you aren’t yourself Nat, this” he emphasized the shell of a broken woman, the fire extinguished for so long now, “this is a downed bird when all you’ve ever deserved to do is fly.”

“Bradley he’s-“ she hesitated, “it’s not that simple” she finally settled on, her eyes wet and fraught as they caught his green ones. She managed a small smile as she took a gentle hand to his cheek, but the touch lasted for just the barest of seconds before she ripped it away as though his skin burned her. “I know you care about me and you think this is what I need but-“

“It is what you need Nat,” Hangman urged, “please, I can help you” he told her desperately, reaching his own hand now that she had broken the invisible barrier between them and wiping the tears that had begun to fall down her cheek once more. “Listen, we can go to Cyclone and ask him for a transfer together. You can serve with me and the Vigilantes, or I know Coyote’s squad has an opening. Or anywhere, anywhere you want to fly. You deserve to be free to go where you want!”

“I can’t” she sniffled, leaning back from his touch with a shaky breath, “it’s too late now.”

“No” he shook his head, “it’s not, look Bradshaw will be fine, don’t worry about him-“

“No I want to be with him, I have to now.”

Jake’s face blanched in surprise, “why?”

She gave him a heartbreaking look that didn’t match the next words from her mouth, “We’re together” she explained but it wasn’t said happily or excitedly. It was hollow, back to the Phoenix he had seen at the beginning of the day, the new Phoenix whenever Rooster got his claws in her.

Hangman was confused, “what?” he questioned, “together as in?”

“We’re a couple-“

“You can’t be serious-“

“What the hell is this?” called a voice and Jake snapped around and cursed every deity he had ever heard of. There was Rooster, once more being the bane of Jake’s existence and the master of appearing at inopportune moments. The blonde shook his head dejectedly while Natasha jumped from her seat as though scalded. “Bradley” she began, not quite nervous but not quite comfortable either. The bombshell of Phoenix’s last words were coming back to Jake now that the shock of Bradshaw’s entrance was dulling away and the blonde couldn’t help but scrunch his eyes with bewilderment at the strange couple the two made. Of course they had been friends for decades but they were always just that, friends. Trace was off-limits to the other pilots, in a league all her own and it went without saying that she was better than any of them would be getting. And as for Bradshaw, he always seemed to look and act like Nat was just another one of the guys. Jake could understand if it were just a physical thing, postings tended to have limited pickings and everyone had certain needs. A running pool had started a few years ago about whether Phoenix and Rooster had ever done it, Jake’s mind idly wondered what the pot had accumulated to.

“What are you doing out here with him?” Bradley was asking his girlfriend and Jake felt rage rise within him immediately, “she was talking to me Bradshaw, got a problem-“

“Oh all ready to go for round two I see” Rooster sneered before turning back to Phoenix, “Babe you should go inside, I left Mav alone, you mind checking on him?“

The woman nodded and moved to head in and Jake saw red, “telling her what to do and where to go?” the blonde chuckled sarcastically, “How abusive of you!”

“I just asked her” Bradley instantly defended, “she has a choice.”

Hangman nodded to the woman already making headway to get back inside, “clearly. So you control Phoenix now and Maverick, what a nice little family you got there Rooster.”

“Mind your business-“

“Nah” the blonde shrugged, moving to stand in Rooster’s face, “I don’t think I will.”

Bradley met his step, the two glaring at each other. Jake cursed the inch or two Rooster had on him, hating to concede even that little ground to the brunette in front of him. “My relationship with Nat is none of your business” Rooster informed, deadly serious, “nor is mine with Mav-“

“Nat looks like she is afraid of her own damn shadow and Mav is a drunken mess” Jake recited angrily, “I wouldn’t call what you have as relationships, more like you destroying the people that actually care about you-“

“I’m helping them!”

“You keep telling yourself that” the blonde interrupted immediately, “but it’s all bullshit. Both of them are floundering and instead of actually getting them help you’re keeping them to yourself in some misguided attempt to keep people around you. You’re so afraid of being alone that you would rather hurt others than be a little lonely! What’s the matter Bradshaw?” he mocked, “afraid if you let them think for themselves they will see you’re not worth the effort and ditch you?”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you Hangman?“

“Yeah sure” Jake rolled his eyes, already tired of this narrative, “because I leave people hanging-“

“No” Bradley’s grin reappeared, the sight so close to Jake’s face it took all his effort not to take a step back but the blonde refused to not stand his ground. “I’m not talking about you leaving people Jake, but people leaving you, ditching you, abandoning you.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about”

“Oh I think you do. You accuse me of wearing my tragedies on my sleeve but how about you Jake? Poor little Hangman, all alone, with no family. I used to think you were just like me when we first got to know each other, an orphan. But you’re not Jake are you?”

“I might as well be”

“No,” Rooster continued, getting into his argument, “an orphan is someone whose parents died. You parents didn’t die Jake, they are still in Texas, back on that farm that they drove you out of. Your parents aren’t around because they didn’t want you. You were such a shitty son, a shitty person, that they would rather disown you than lay any claim.” Bradley scoffed dramatically, “what does that have to say about you, huh?”

“They didn’t leave me” Jake all but whispered, his heart clenching thinking of all the moments that he spent as a kid begging for his parent’s attentions, for their love, only to be denied each and every time. “I left them” he corrected, “because of what they did to me-“

“Yeah” Rooster gave a mockingly big, patronizing smile, “I remember hearing it all from Coyote back in the day. All about the hits and the smacks and how they starved you sometimes.” He tiled his head, “didn’t they lock you outside for like two days” he smirked when Jake couldn’t contain his shudder at the memory. “But parents love their kids Hangman, unless the kids give them a reason not to. You must have been some terror growing up-“

“Fuck you” Hangman spat back, his voice thick with emotions, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Rooster held his hands in mock surrender, “you never do, right Seresin?”

Jake rubbed a hand across his face, cursing when he felt the wetness of tears. “What does this have to do with you and the others, about what you’re doing to them?”

“I protect the people that I love” Bradley informed the blonde, “maybe if you weren’t such a selfish asshole you’d actually have people that would do the same for you and so you would understand. Maverick is broken; he lost his meaning in the world so I’m helping him, getting him back to himself to find a new purpose-“

Jake sniffled, “that sounds like a cult’s message if I ever heard one.”

“Believe what you want, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I think it does” the blonde was frantic to get back on the offensive, to cool down his emotions and stop letting Bradley Bradshaw get the better of him. “I think it matters a lot Bradshaw, it’s why you keep pushing that I took the Daggers from Mav, it’s why you came out here like a bat out of hell when Nat even dared to talk to me. What’s the matter Bradshaw? Don’t want to share your toys? Scared that big bad Hangman is going to take them all away from you?”

“Well it wouldn’t be from lack of trying when it comes to Nat would it?” the brunette replied tersely.

Hangman shook his head, “What does that mean?”

“Come on, anyone with eyes can see that you love her-“

Jake stuttered back in surprise, Bradley’s words hitting him like physical blows. Did he love Phoenix? Yes, his heart was telling him but not in the way Bradshaw meant. Jake loved the spunky little pilot, the only person that could give it back to him when he was being a cocky asshole but with fondness mixed with her annoyance. He loved her skills and her brain; she was the best of the best at her craft just like him and she never apologized for it. She trained hard, studied harder, and earned every second she got in the air. Jake had been in love with her spirit from the moment he watched her take off into the air; Phoenix, a beautiful Phoenix, a majestic fire bird.

But she deserved so much better than him. He wanted so much more for her and that’s why his heart broke at the sight of her tonight, so far removed from the Phoenix he had always admired

The blonde looked up, his face surprisingly composed despite Roosters claims, “I don’t love her like that-“

“Sure you don’t” Bradley mocked sarcastically, “keep telling yourself that big guy” he patted Jake patronizingly on the chest, “but she chose me asshole. So for all your bitching and moaning about what a shitty person I am, I’m good enough for Nat and you’re not,” he shrugged his shoulders, “how’s that feel?”

“She’ll see your true colors soon” the blonde warned, “once you let her breathe for a moment.”

“No Jake it’s you that people leave when they see how you really are. It’s you” Rooster continued to press, “that people would rather be alone than be around. It’s you at the end of the day who will be so busy being the best of the best that you’ll have no one to celebrate with, no one to go home to, no one to mourn you when you’re gone.”

“Fine” Jake conceded, his voice impossibly small, “maybe I will be all alone, but at least I’m honest about myself. I don’t have anyone yeah, my parents couldn’t give two shits about me but I’m still trying okay? I’m still working to be the best. I don’t let my tragedies whether my own fault or not, dictate the rest of my life” he stepped into Bradley’s face, “I don’t act like the world owes me something every day of my damn life.”

“Watch it” Bradshaw warned, his face getting red, “watch what you say next Hangman or I swear I’ll-“

“You’ll what Rooster?” Jake instigated roughly, “hit me? What? You don’t want to hear about how you walk around with a chip on your shoulder like you had the hardest path to get to where you are because your papers for the academy didn’t go through-“

“You don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“I do though! Mav pulled them and you didn’t talk to the guy for 15 years! The man who loved you so much that he cared for you, remember? Something I wouldn’t understand. Well I understand why Mav did it but what I don’t understand is why you had to be so damn prissy to him about it for over a decade! News flash Rooster, you still became a pilot, you still graduated from Top Gun, you still became everything you ever wanted so who the fuck cares what Mav did! Honestly” the blonde pushed, letting out a deep breath from all his yelling, “unless staying mad about it earned you some favors with a certain COMPACFLT-“

Bradley’s eyes turned to daggers, ready to strike, “excuse me?”

“We all know how close Iceman and Maverick was,” Hangman lifted his hand in innocent nonchalance, “wouldn’t be too far of a stretch for the departed Admiral to pull strings to get you where you ended up, would it Bradshaw, fixing Maverick’s mistakes one more time, right?”

“Don’t you dare fucking say I didn’t earn where I am-“

“But he pulled us for the mission, even brought Mav back as well; Despite knowing you connections and despite knowing your current disagreement. But that’s you Bradshaw, always getting ahead the wrong way. Hell maybe you can become the next COMPACFLT, I’m sure there is someone else that flew with your dad and feels sorry enough to-“

But the rest of Jake’s were cut off when Bradley’s fist rose, landing right in the bone under the blonde’s eye. The force was staggering, enough that Jake fell to one knee to catch himself, not expecting the hit enough to prepare at all. Another punch was coming, this time hitting the younger man in the jaw before Jake regained enough wherewithal to bring his own hands up.

Hangman nailed a shot right to Bradley’s unprotected nose, pleasure swelling within the younger pilot as the sound of cartilage breaking filled the air. Rooster stumbled back, blood already starting to drip but he wiped it away with his dress sleeve, the red stain stark against the blinding white. The brunette got his feet under him and moved to attack again but Jake was ready, blocking a few of Rooster’s attempted body shots, but not getting a chance to land his own. Finally Bradley’s blows hit their marks, two back to back in Jake’s stomach that had the man doubled over and wheezing. Bradshaw moved in, the blood on his face eerie in the dark night, and looked to perform an uppercut to Jake’s already bruised ribs. The blonde shifted, moving his body out of the way before raising his arm back and launching it once more into Rooster’s face, the man collapsing to the ground from the force.

Jake stumbled for a moment, physically and mentally exhausted as he wished for Rooster to just stay down. The blonde’s eye was pulsing in pain and the taste of blood was filling his mouth, he moved to spit, turning his head, and then cursed himself as Bradshaw moved during Hangman’s split second of not paying attention. Rooster threw himself at Jake once more. This time it was more wrestling, the two men just flailing hard against each other as they grappled for control. Blows still landed at times, Jake felt his lip split as he landed his own gut punch to the brunette opposing him. There was no winner here, not between these two men, just anger and resentment and harsh words spurning into harsher hits. Jake imagined they would fight until they each collapsed, spent of energy every way possible.

Suddenly there was a hand grabbing his arm but Jake shrugged it off, not even comprehending the movement until a surprisingly feminine shout of alarm sounded from behind him. Jake managed to turn his neck in time to see Naomi stumbling backward from the force of his push before Bradley was slamming into him, the two men knocking back into the pregnant woman and pushing her to the ground. It took all the abdominal muscles Hangman possessed to catch both his and Bradshaw’s weight and shift it over, avoiding landing on top of Naomi and hurting her worse. Instead Jake landed solidly on his own back, the wind effectively knocked out of him and getting a punch in his stomach for his efforts before screams began to sound around them and Bradley was ripped off of him. Jake turned his swollen face to the right, seeing Javy sprint over and collapse beside his wife, cradling her carefully.

A hand cut through his vision, Bob and Dylan each offering help to get Jake up but they had to do all the work as Jake’s focus was entirely on his two friends still on the ground. The minute he was released he raced over, “N-Naomi” Jake stuttered, blood leaking once more from his mouth, “My God Naomi, I’m so sorry-“

“What the fuck man” Javy’s dark eyes looked to want to set Jake on fire when they found him, “what the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t know it was her- I felt someone grab my arm and-“

“And you threw her!” Coyote screamed, “My wife! My pregnant wife-“

“I’m so sorry” Hangman breath hitched and he turned around to see some of the other Daggers pulling a bleeding Bradshaw back inside, “I didn’t mean to, I swear I wouldn’t-“

“Javy” Naomi was trying to stand but her husband didn’t seem so willing to let her go, “it was an accident, I shouldn’t have tried to stop them-“

“No” Javy was not letting this go so easily, “they shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place” he zeroed in on Jake, “this is why I asked to join you outside, because I knew, I knew, something like this was going to happen! But no, you shot me down, yelled at me to leave you the hell alone and then you hurt my family?”

“I’m so sorry” Hangman sobbed, his tears mixing with the blood on his face, “you’re right, I shouldn’t have pushed you away-“

“This is why we should have gone home hours ago!” Coyote continued, his temper nowhere near extinguished, “because every time you even get near Bradshaw you lose all your senses-“

“Javy I-“

“No!” he cut in, shutting Jake up quick, “no you don’t get to talk right now okay? You just shut up and listen!” When the blonde stayed silent, Coyote continued, “You had the balls to worry about how Bradshaw is impacting Mav and Phoenix but have you ever taken a look in the mirror and seen what he’s done to you? Shit Jake you’re the least emotional man I have ever seen. You’re eerily professional at all times, almost borderline cold and yet I catch you in how many fights tonight, your emotions all over the place, hell you almost cried before at the table when you asked me the Admiral question- “

Jake sniffled to contain his sob, not wanting to prove Javy’s words even though everything his friend was saying was true, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“I don’t care that you’re sorry!” Coyote’s words hit like knives, each one piercing another piece of Jake’s already shattered heart, “I don’t care one freaking bit. You put your hands on my wife Jake! You pushed her and then you and Rooster almost body slammed her with you stupid fucking antics! She could have fallen to the ground and been crushed by you both! She could be hurt; my unborn child could be hurt, for what? The next round in the endless battle between you and Bradshaw? No,” he shook his head, “I won’t do it, I will not let you make my family be your collateral damage anymore, I won’t-“

“Javy” Naomi moved to intercede, her own tears falling, “please, it’s alright, I’m fine-“

“No, they are two grown ass men that are lucky this wasn’t worse. That are lucky they didn’t hurt you, or that they weren’t arrested for the way they acted tonight.”

“You’re right” Hangman nodded, crisp and precise because he had to shut himself off before he collapsed to the ground from the weight of his guilt for what he had done to his best friends. Javy was right, he could have hurt Naomi, hurt their baby, in his stupid pissing contest with Rooster. He had never been more ashamed.

“I’m taking my wife to get checked out, you can find your own way home-“

Jake nodded immediately, not daring to disagree, “absolutely-“ he began but Naomi cut him off with a raised hand. “No” the woman turned to her husband, “we are not leaving him out here.”

“He can get an uber.”

“Yeah” Hangman interrupted cautiously, afraid to reignite Javy’s ire, “you should get checked, I’ll find my own way back.”

“I’m fine” the woman held up her hands where there were little scratches in her palms, “I broke my fall with my hands, see?” Besides the tiny breaks in the skin she looked okay physically, if not a little bit in shock over the events of the night. “They barely touched me Javy, it was just the shock of it all, that’s why I fell.”

Coyote shook his head, “I’m still taking you to the hospital-“

“Honey-“

“Non-negotiable” he pulled out his valet ticket, “can you walk?” he asked his wife, as he drapped his dress uniform jacket over her shoulders.

“Yes I can walk, and I can also drive” she yanked the ticket from his hands, “they didn’t even hit my stomach Javy, it’s okay” she looked at Jake, “if anyone needs to go to the hospital, it’s you Jake, you’re bleeding-“

Hangman shook his head, refusing to be anymore of a bother to the couple, “I’m fine really, don’t worry about me.”

“Come on” she urged, “you’re coming with us-“

“Naomi-“

“Javier” she snapped, meeting her husband’s angry eye, “I know you’re mad right now and I get it but we are not leaving your best friend, your brother, out here alone. Now go get our keys from the valet.” Coyote looked ready to challenge further but finally relented, taking the ticket back and heading inside.

Once alone Naomi took a step over to the blonde, touching motherly fingers to his swollen right eye with a hiss, “are you alright” she asked softly making the man feel worse that she still cared.

“I’m so sorry” he cried, Jake unable to stop the sobs from rolling out of him, “so, so sorry.”

“I know you are honey” the woman shared sadly, “and Javy knows too. He’s just scared, that’s all. Just give him some time to cool off okay?”

“I don’t deserve you guys, I ruin everything, I hurt everyone-“

“Shhhh” she soothed, moving her fingers to fix his mussed hair, “don’t say that-“

“But it’s true” he whimpered, overcome with the juxtaposition of his swirling emotions and the calming feel of her fingers, “How can you still help me? How can you still look at me?”

“Because you’re Javy’s brother okay? And brothers fight and they hurt each other but they always, always love each other.” She smiled sadly, “it’s going to be okay Jake, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s okay” she whispered, slipping her hand carefully though his arm, mindful of his injuries, “I believe enough for all of us.”

The two started their walk to the front, arriving just in time for the valet to arrive with the car. Javy drove, painfully sober now after all the excitement and Jake headed to the backseat. Naomi tried to make conversation in the car but neither man engaged. Javy was still too angry, only opening his mouth to ask every few minutes if his wife was feeling alright as they made their way to the hospital. Each time the woman answered the same, explaining that everything was fine, it was all an accident, as she tried to meet Jake’s eye in the side mirror. Jake refused to look anywhere but at his window, his forehead resting against the cool glass as he looked without seeing at all the places they passed. His head was throbbing, his right eye now almost swollen shut and his ribs ached but nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Jake wondered if perhaps Maverick was right after all, maybe he was a liability, but not only to the Navy but to his friends. They didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to pay the price for his screw ups, to get hurt because of him. Maybe the bigger mercy, like Mav said, was Jake not being around.

As a tear rolled down his cheek, Jake closed his one working eye tightly, as he wished he could have gone back not even to the start of this day but before the mission. He wished he turned it down, wished he stayed with the Vigilantes and minded his own business, that he never met Pete Maverick Mitchell or ran back into Rooster. The tiniest part of his heart going even further, wishing, like Mav warned, that he had died young.

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stravagatefaster · 3 months

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City of Masks - Readalong thoughts

Here's everything I wrote for the City of Masks readalong. I'm putting this under the cut because it got quite long

Part 1: Prologue to the end of Chapter 4 - The Stravaganti

Here are my thoughts on Part 1. Because I have read this book so many times, I tend to not pay too much attention to the beginning since so much of it is mainly just setup for what's to come. This time I tried my best to really pay attention to how the book pulls the reader into its world and what information is given in this beginning section.

The first thing I noticed was that even though Lucien is the protagonist of the book, he is barely in Chapter 1. He is briefly introduced, but we don't really get to know him yet. Instead, the Duchessa is at the center of the prologue and the first chapter. The plot seems to revolve around her, and that's the case for the rest of the book as well. Lucien may be the protagonist, but it could be argued that the Duchessa is the main character; She is the Sun and every other character is a planet revolving around her in this story. I'll have to pay attention to this aspect as I read onwards, since it is an angle I haven't really looked at before.

Another thing the first chapter highlights are the similarities between Arianna and the Duchessa and how both of them have a slightly rebellious nature. Arianna's rebellion is more obvious, but the Duchessa rebels against the Bellezzan's customs by using a double, even though her presence is the whole point of the Marriage with the Sea. This rebellion also comes from a self-serving place for the both of them: Arianna's main concern is herself, and Silvia does things because they are convenient to her (for example, using a body double because it spares her from going in the cold water and keeps people thinking she still looks young). Silvia even looks down on her subjects and especially their superstition, and a part of this is represented by how she blocks her ears with wax to block the sound of the cheering masses. The Duchessa is not presented as a loving and perfect ruler or a cold and heartless villain, but as a very realistic image of a woman who has ruled a city for over 20 years and is kind of over all the grandiose her life entails. This is, in my opinion, a more nuanced portrayal of a ruler than in most YA books, and it speaks to Hoffman's writing ability that she is able to bring this out within just the first chapter.

In the first chapter there are interesting little breadcrumbs that point to Silvia and Rodolfo's marriage. For example, the line "After all these years, his bony hawklike face still pleased her. And this year she had a particular reason to be glad of that" might seem like a slightly strange detail for a first-time reader, but in hindsight it's very obvious what that line refers to.

I don't have as many notes on chapters 2-4. One thing I noticed was that Rodolfo almost immediately offers Lucien prosecco. This was funny to me because a friend of mine recently read this book and pointed out how much alcohol gets consumed in this book. This is something I'll keep an eye on.

One thing I found interesting in this section was what happens to the di Chimici spy (Enrico, though he is not yet named in this section) in chapter 4. Of course, without this readalong most people could just keep going on, but I couldn't help but notice that we don't yet get an explanation of what happens to him. It is implied that something magical goes on, since he seems to feel Rodolfo's presence even when he is not physically there. But we don't find out what actually happens to him, only that he just dissappears. There was really no point to this observation, especially since I know what happened, but if I were reading this for the first time, this would be one of the little details in this book that make it a fantasy story. In general, I think it's interesting how unlike in other fantasy stories, where the magical aspects tend to be very explicit and front-and-center, in this most of the fantasy elements are hidden in small blink-and-you'll-miss-it details or moved to the background, apart from stravagating itself, of course.

My final notes are on Rodolfo's description of the di Chimici family in chapter 4. By this point in the book, Rinaldo di Chimici has only been mentioned very briefly, so the reader doesn't have much context on what Rodolfo is describing. This description is clearly meant to paint the di Chimici (sidenote: I find it interesting that in this book its "the Chimici", when it's "the di Chimici" in later books.) as the "big bad" of the series, but I don't think this image is as menacing as it could be. We don't really get an explanation on why the di Chimici are so bad, just that if they were to acquire knowledge throughs stravagating, they would keep it all to themselves. Rodolfo's description almost makes it seem like the di Chimici are already planning on world domination or something, and getting magic/science on their side would give them the tools for that, but honestly, from this description they also just seem like every other powerful family in European history: Conquering new territories and using marriage as a tool to make allies. This doesn't exactly tell me why the di Chimici are supposedly so bad, since it's not like this book has some strong anti-nobility stance in general.

It's also clear that Hoffman had not yet fully fleshed out the rest of the series at this point. "Every city but one in Northern Talia is ruled by one of [the di Chimici]" is not exactly true, as we find out later on in the series.

Part 2: Chapter 5 - Lagoon City to the end of Chapter 8 - A Jar of Rainbows

Lucien's story in this section is mostly about him learning about Bellezza and Talia. We straight up skip a few weeks (page 85), and we get a tour of the islands. On the English side, Lucien gets a visit from his friend Tom. This scene really highlights the difference in Lucien's two lives. We get a glimpse of what his life was like before the cancer and what it could be like if he was healthy. In this section we also get a taste of what could happen if he stays in Talia for too long. And yet he still ends this section by deciding to attend the celebrations. It's clear he's already prioritizing his life in Talia, which is not surprising, considering how little he has to do at the moment in his real life.

Before I move on to my notes about the worldbuilding, I want to point out the part where Lucien does his little internet searches. I think this is one of the parts that heavily date the series as taking place in and being written in the early 2000s. The way Hoffman describes using the internet is almost hilarious now, 20 years later. I've done a lot of research on the history of the internet, and I find this book to be an interesting time-capsule of what our relationship to the "web" was back in the day. Hoffman is really good at describing settings in a way that makes you feel like you're there, with just enough information without it being overwhelming; Any time I see Venice in another piece of media I feel like I know all the places already all thanks to how familiar I'm with Bellezza. This extends to how she describes the early 2000s online spaces. I can practically see the simplistic HTML sites when I read the passages about Lucien looking up information on William Dethridge.

In this section,we find out several things about the alternate universe Talia is in. One of these is that silver and gold have sort of switched places in that universe so that silver is valued more. (not really a spoiler but an extremely general thought about the series overall:) I find it interesting that although this detail never really plays a major part in the overall plot of the books, it is one of the defining differences between the world of Talia and our world.

We also get the origin story of the masks mentioned in the title of the book. It was left vague when exactly the earlier Duchessa's accident happened beyond that it was about 100 years ago, but if it really was exactly 100 years ago, then I really do believe she was the one to kill the di Chimici prince. According to the di Chimici family tree, he died exactly 100 years before City of Masks takes place, which would be a very convenient coincidence.

Enrico gets introduced better in this section after Rodolfo briefly expels him to Padavia. Right away we learn to recognize him as the man with the blue cloak. We also get a little bit of his relationship with Giuliana, the girl who acted as the Duchessa's body double. I find it kind of funny that Giuliana is the only one in the whole series to describe him as "handsome". Love really blinds people I guess. I'd like to know more of Enrico's backstory, especially since it's revealed that he's not from Bellezza. Where does he come from? How did he end up in Bellezza and working for Rinaldo di Chimici?

Through Enrico and Giuliana, in this section Rinaldo finds out about the Duchessa using a double for important occasions, and we start to see the plot of the rest of the book taking place. A piece in this is Guido Parola, who gets a couple of scenes in this section, one of which focuses on his backstory (sick father and a brother who gambled away their money) and the other which has Rinaldo giving him instructions to kill the Duchessa.

My final note is that so far most of this scheming and spying has been done by the di Chimici side, but in this section Silvia also sends her own spy after Arianna. This is just one of the little details that places her in a sort of gray area, closer to her enemies. And she's not the first Duchessa to be framed this way either; The story of the glass mask portrays the old Duchessa as a vain and ruthless person, and I can't help but think if this ability to exist in a gray-ish area morally is what is required of someone to be in this position, or if it is something you become due to being the Duchessa.

Part 3: Chapter 9 - Twelve Towers to the end of Chapter 13 - A Death Sentence

First of all, Dethridge. We get a short visit to Montemurato and find out more about Dethridge's past. The reason I wanted to talk about him was his way of speaking. Since he is from Lucien's world but hundreds of years in the past, he speaks in a pseudo-elizabethan way (I'm not an expert of the English language but I'm pretty sure that it's not entirely accurate). At times his speech is difficult to understand unless I sound out the words in my head. In the Finnish translation, he speaks in a fake old-timey way that is not old-fashioned enough to be historically accurate (that might be too difficult to read for younger readers). My Swedish is not quite good enough to properly analyze the translation in the Swedish version, but it seems that the words themselves are pretty "normal". I think one of my friends once said that the old-timey feeling comes from the word order there, but I'm not 100% sure about that.

In this section Rinaldo and Enrico turn their interest towards Lucien, and by extension, Arianna. It's a bit of a stretch to go through "to get the Duchessa we need to get Rodolfo, to get him we have to get Luciano, to get to him we have to get Arianna", but I suppose it kind of has to happen for the plot. My opinion is that the scene in the mandola is perhaps one of the most important scenes in the entire series since it is relevant even in the last book at the trial in Fortezza. The aftermath is one of my favorite parts of this book; It's so funny seeing Rinaldo be tormented by not knowing what happened. He just thinks Guido took the money and didn't even try the assassination, and in reality Guido is now working for Silvia.

The most interesting thing about the scene to me is this line: "A thousand regrets flooded her mind but not for her personal safety; they were all to do with the city, Rodolfo and the brown-haired girl." (Chapter 10) That's pretty obvious foreshadowing of both how important Rodolfo is to her (which has been sort of in question for most of the book, with the highlighting of how he is not the only lover she's had) and that Arianna is her daughter.

The funniest thing in this section was where we find out that Enrico has fallen into the canal while drunk.

Part 4: Chapter 14 - The Bridge of Sighs to the end of Chapter 18 - Viva Bellezza!

In this section we finally find out that Arianna is Silvia's daughter. There are quite a lot of clues hidden in the book, and re-reading it makes them very easy to spot, but if I remember correctly, when I first read it, this kind of came as a surprise to me (granted, I was a literal child back then). I find it interesting that Arianna's first positive reaction (after going through the initial shock and negative emotions) is to the fact that this means she won't have to marry someone "boring". This is a fear that has surfaced a couple times before in the book, but I feel like it could have been highlighted a bit more, especially in connection as to why Arianna wanted to be a mandolier in the first place. It's obvious that what she desires is freedom and some purpose beyond being a wife, and becoming a mandolier was just a tool for that. Her desire to be a mandolier fades into the background pretty quickly, so it doesn't seem like that specifically was what motivated her.

There is one plot hole in regards to the reveal of Arianna's birth. Silvia says she gave birth to Arianna during the Epiphany banquet, but in book 4 we find out her birthday is in October. Since Epiphany is celebrated in January, and we don't really have a reason to believe any of the holy days in Talia occur in different times to our own world (for example: Easter in book 3), this is just a plot hole.

I have to mention that Rodolfo's clowning in regards to Arianna's father is always funny to me. It doesn't even occur to him that it could be him and that Silvia could have kept that information from him just because she's a #gaslight #gatekeep #girlboss.

The "death" of the Duchessa also happens in this section. I find it interesting that it is the Duchessa's own spy who helps Enrico get the plans for the glass room. Silvia uses Giuliana specifically as a decoy, and by doing so she ensures that she gets rid of the double with the loose lips, and thus keeps it a secret (even in "death") that she used a double. It makes me wonder if she's ever previously gotten rid of a double who talked a little too much.

The final thing I have to say is about stravagating itself and its connection to physical places. When Lucien is in Venice, his connection to Bellezza seems to be stronger even when he is not actively stravagating. I also find it interesting that Dethridge and Rodolfo get the mirror to Lucien's room working only after he hangs up the mask he brought from Venice. Perhaps this object that originates from Bellezza's counterpart allowed for the barrier between the worlds to be thin enough for it to happen.

Part 5: Chapter 19 - Between Worlds to the end of the Epilogue

One big thing I want to mention in my final thoughts is the magiv system/stravagating itself. I've already commented on this topic in my other messages, but as a whole, this re-read has really highlighted some very interesting things to me. The most important one is stravagating and its connection to physical space (see my comment on the previous section). Most of the other moments of "magic" (though Rodolfo would deny them being magic) in this book, at least the ones that come to my mind, also have something to do with space; Rodolfo sending Enrico to Padavia and Rodoldo's impossible rooftop garden. I'll have to pay attention to if this pattern continues in the other books.

Speaking of Rodolfo, I have to mention a couple of things about him as well. His reaction to Silvia's "deception" is interesting to me. He is extremely loyal to her, but when speaking to Arianna about how he would rather have taken her away from everything than gone along with this lying, he shows a rare moment of not putting Silvia at the top of his list of priorities.

I've already touched upon how funny it is that Rodolfo just doesn't get that Arianna is his child, but there's another one of Rodolfo's clown moments in this book that gets me every time. This one is at the trial, right when poor Lucien dies in his old body. I have cried at Lucien's death many times when reading this book, but this time all I could do was focus on what Rodolfo does, because ever since my friend pointed it out, I haven't stopped thinking about it: What was Rodolfo thinking when he threw the book at Luciano? Was he planning on bonking him so hard on the head that he would stravagate immediately? How was Lucien tied up, and how was he supposed to catch the book if his hands were tied? My friends and I have tried physical demonstrations of this scene but we just can't figure out what Rodolfo was thinking.

My final notes are on Rinaldo. This re-read made me really notice how he and Enrico really are like two sides of the same coin. This is even highlighted by Lucien nicknaming them Smelly and Stinky; Enrico smells bad because of his disregard of personal hygiene, and Rinaldo practically bathes in his perfumes, but the end result is that neither of them smell pleasant. I think this really encapsulates both characters into one allegory.

Rinaldo is canonically in his mid-20s in this book (source: di Chimici family tree in the later books), but with the way he is written, it feels like maybe Hoffman originally intended for him to be older. Without going into too much detail on the later books, in this one Rinaldo feels like he's supposed to be what other characters are later on. I would love to know how much of the overall story Hoffman had planned when writing this first book.

The detail of Rinaldo being a citizen of Remora is interesting to me. In this book, we get to know how Bellezzan citizenship works (you either have to be born in Bellezza or marry a Bellezzan), but we don't know how it works in Remora. If it's the same as in Bellezza, Rinaldo being a citizen of Remora doesn't make sense, since he is supposed to be from Volana. Was he made into a citizen so he could be an ambassador? I'm probably reading too much into this, but it's just something that caught my eye.

#stravaganza #city of masks

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gofancyninjaworld · 2 years

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OPM Manga Update 218 Review: Secret Intel

Story

This is one of the simpler ones. We begin shortly after where we left off last chapter, looking in on a guy who really should pay an orthodontist already, Metal Knight. He’s in a spot of bother. Someone’s destroyed his security robots and he’s got a choice between eating crow and looking like he’s wasted the Hero Association’s money (which, being made out of individual donations, will look a great sin) or telling them that a bald guy was able to take them out.

He reviews the footage, seeing robot after robot destroyed, even the ones he’d had take on two captured demon-level monsters at once (Genos could have words with him about the difference between monsters abstracted into unnatural situations and those in the field, but they’re not on speaking terms). Looking up Saitama’s information, the rookie hero appears to be someone rising up the ranks very fast but there’s almost nothing about him to suggest why. Other than it being noted that his physical test was off the charts.

He decides to eat crow after all. Better shamed than in Saitama’s cross-hairs. At least until he understands what’s up with this crazy-strong guy a bit better.

As far as ONE’s concerned, webcomic readers have had all the reassurance of familarity they deserve. Join me below the readmore for what happens next!

TWO DAYS AGO

Yes, we’re in flashback city, baby! In a small conference room at Hero Association headquarters, Sicchi and Sekingar convened a secret meeting with four heroes. Three were there to share what they knew, while one, Amai Mask, was there in his capacity as an advisor.

The necessity for secrecy soon becomes clear as the the issues at hand are first, the phenomenon of people turning into monsters and second, the relationship all this and other unexplained phenomena has to the prophecy, given that there’s still the better part of five months to go. Speaking carelessly risks causing mass paranoia.

As the heroes speak, Zombieman’s experiences with Homeless Emperor appearing to have been silenced by someone before turning into salt and ash turns out to dovetail nicely with Flashy Flash’s experience of handling a box from which a voice communicated telepathically, offering either great power or forfeiture. In turn, Sicchi shares the history of Blast and how his encounter with God two years ago led the hero to conclude that it would be safer if he disappeared to fight God more directly.

Which was Genos’s big moment. Declaring that he knew another way to deal with this very situation, he brought out his time-travelled core as a prop and filled them in on what really happened at the Monster Association with Garou.

And talked.

And talked a bit more, until everyone were all but begging for mercy. He only stopped when he noticed that Flashy Flash had fallen asleep, and the barbed exchange between them allowed Zombieman to play peacemaker. Sekingar used the opportunity to remark that Genos’s story sounded like an unbelieveable yarn and Sicchi suggested questioning Saitama for corroboration, maybe from Saitama himself. Oh, yeah, about that, Saitama forgot. Zombieman suggested questioning Garou. A reasonable supposition, only he forgot too!

Sicchi rounds up the meeting by saying that whatever be the case, Blast has noticed that God is interacting with the world more frequently, as if attracted by something within it. The meeting breaks up shortly as first Genos, then Flashy leave without being dismissed.

Even though the other heroes are deeply skeptical of what Genos had to say and have to weigh it against how infatuated with Saitama he is, they all think it’s worthwhile looking into it. Zombieman remembers Dr Genus talking about a bald hero whose power was other worldly. Flashy Flash remembers his time with Saitama underground and thinks that maybe this guy is worth polishing up.

We end the chapter with a pensive Amai Mask reviewing Saitama’s profile as he considers Genos’s words. Given that Genos is the real deal (a big change from the days he called the latter ‘mostly disappointing’, eh?), for him to be so taken with this baldy means he must be quite something. Maybe, he’s even the ideal hero he’s been looking for?

Meta

Observations and Small Mysteries Explained

Manako is safe. We don’t know where she is exactly, but the way Flashy Flash spoke of her, we can be pretty sure that he’s taking care of her.

Someone who should be at the meeting is Tatsumaki, and if she were in any fit state to attend, I’m sure she would be. As the hero who faced Psykos-Orochi and got to hear the planet-scalping monster’s tale of God, she would have had something to contribute. Not to mention that she’s aware of Pyskos’s connection to Fubuki. Not to mention that she had a close encounter with God and her insight into how beguiling this entity can be would have been very welcome knowledge. She must not be well enough. It’s probably no coincidence that the attending heroes are either radiation-hardened (Genos), tougher than your average leather boot (Flashy Flash), or have fierce healing factors (Zombieman and Amai Mask).

So many of us were wondering how it came to be that Saitama got promoted to Class A given that just about no one saw him take Garou out and we’d seen heroes, even those specifically promised promotions, ignored. We have an answer: two days earlier, Genos had harangued Sitch and Sekingar so long they had to do something. Here’s the grand total of what they wrote:

‘That’s it?!’ both Metal Knight and us ask. Maybe the truth was just a little too unbelievable, so Class A is the safest hedge for it. At least now Saitama can stay in his new flat legally.

In update 216, Genos left the salvage site abruptly as he had unfinished business at the Hero Association. I wonder why... eh, that’s a mystery for another chapter to answer.

Holy Fuck, Competence? Who’d Have Thunk It?

The lowest way to make your hero (literary hero, not hero hero) shine in your story is to make everyone around them bad. Those others are stupid, blinkered, lazy, immoral, corrupt, what have you... and only your hero has the vision, morals, ethics, etc., and so deserves to succeed. It’s very easy -- and to be honest you can pull it off pretty easily as few people will ask the tough questions about the story -- just as long as it’s entertaining. We like the idea of identifying with being the Only Sane Man in the Village. Yeah, well, being a character convinced of their Total Rightness in a ONE story is asking to be sodomised with a nail-studded dildo... but we’re getting off topic. One of the things I really appreciated about the Garou arc so far is that ONE didn’t need to make the heroes look bad in order to make Garou sympathetic.

ONE has taken it a step further. Good, intelligent, hard-working characters who do their best despite being imperfect can achieve MORE and so that’s what we see here. A meeting called with an appropriate level of secrecy given the stakes? The right heroes attending, being people who have something to contribute? Sure, there are a couple more heroes whose attendance would have been welcome but they have excellent reason for not being there. Putting their heads together to advance what they know? Wow, who’d have thought it? I’m glad to see this because having good people working to try to solve a problem with imperfect information means that more complex situations can be portrayed well. I like this development a lot.

What they’re piecing together about ‘God’, Blast, and the situation of the world is really quite something. I’m very interested in seeing what they’re going to be able to do with what they’re learning.

What’s God After?

We sort of know this, though nobody else does as the only two people to put it together have both conveniently lost the key memories. It’s Saitama, the Abominable Fist That Turned Against God. It’s possible that God first manifesting to Blast two years ago isn’t entirely co-incidental as it corresponds roughly with when Saitama broke his limiter.

Whatever else you can say, ‘God’ isn’t mindlessly against humanity. If He were, He’s had ample opportunity to get rid of humans long before any heroes were raised up to cause problems. What business ‘God’ has with Saitama and why He’s sending agents to take him out we don’t know yet.

It’s probably nothing good.

Blast, a Much-Storied Hero

So, let’s talk about Blast. We’re learning a lot more about him now! We already knew that Blast has been active a long time, so learning that he’s dedicated 20 years solid to trying to understand what this ‘God’ entity is, what the nature of the cubes left scattered throughout the Earth is, and how to counter it as part of a collaborative effort has been great to see. It really makes sense of exactly what he was doing at the secret laboratory Tatsumaki was being held at.

However, in learning about his history, we’re also finding unwelcome things. If his partner is the Ninja Village Leader, then the manga version of the story of that leader takes a very dark turn. Learning that your partner keeps little boys in his basement to abuse? Figuratively speaking, of course... the truth about where he keeps them and what he does to them is so much worse. So much worse that you have to go find them... and kill them.

The ‘nicer’ bits of OPM aren’t so that we can get the warm fuzzies: they’re so that ONE has a greater height from which to dash heroes down.

Something both the heroes in their meeting and what we ourselves have seen is that ‘God’ is very particular about approaching people to make a deal. We have seen repeatedly that He never approaches unless the person is so desperate that they’d do anything. The only way around it is to use a cube to summon Him. We saw this with Homeless Emperor when he gave up on humanity and was about to hang himself, with Psykos when she was about to be eaten by Orochi (who took advantage of her fleeing to him for safety in the best monstrous tradition), with Tatsumaki when she was lying on the ground seething with frustration at being too weak to do anything, and with Garou when he’d been roundly beaten by Saitama and could see his goals slipping away. It would be an act of the most pathetic special pleading to imagine that God approached Blast for any other reason than the latter was having a bad, bad time fighting Elder Centipede and He saw an opportunity. Blast wisely refused the deal and somehow, managed to beat the monster back to the point that Elder Centipede ran from it (only to come back bigger and stronger two years later).

It’s evident though, that the Blast we see today is *not* the Blast of two years ago. Whether through training or through technological insights gained via intensely studying the cubes, the Blast we meet in the story is not only physically strong, but able to manipulate time and space. If Elder Centipede had had the rematch he sought, he’d have been very sorry indeed. Briefly.

Also whatever Blast has been through in his two-year stint, damn, he’s gone grey fast! It must have been harrowing.

The Drunken Heart

Twitter user@touchreceptors does a smattering of translation, and what they have to say about the word for infatuated that both Zombieman and Flashy Flash use is most interesting. Translated kanji-by-kanji, it reads ‘his heart is drunk’, which I think captures both the intensity of Genos’s current feelings for Saitama... and the inevitable hangover that’s coming.

On the one hand, Genos has spoken of Saitama and events with such power and persuasiveness that not only was he allowed to speak for four whole hours but everyone in the room has been persuaded to give Saitama a second look, despite how incredible his account is. It speaks to how much respect he’s earned in a very short time. On the other hand, he did spend at least three-and-a-half of those hours going ‘Sensei, Sensei, Sensei.’

Human emotions are rarely neatly compartmentalized, and Genos’s certainly aren’t. He has barely known Saitama for a couple of months and those months have been the most incredibly intense experiences possible, both for their incredible horrors and remarkable salvations, not to mention finding out that Saitama feels strongly about him too. If you wanted to lovebomb someone into a cult you couldn’t do better. Given what he’s been through, it’s understandable that he’s so intensely enthralled by Saitama. In a normal world, it’d work its way through and his emotions would settle down to something more reasonable.

If my speaking in these terms suggests that I don’t think this is healthy or going to last, you’re damn right. When he talks about the most dangerous development facing humanity as something that needs only Saitama to stop it, it’s terrible. Saitama may be the most powerful being on the planet (and beyond), but he’s still a fallible human being. Worse, in thinking like this, Genos is in deadly danger of losing himself, and the purpose for which he became a cyborg in the first place.

If he takes his eye off the ball, Saitama is the last person who will have any sympathy for him. Why? Because this is the thing Saitama is most serious about: You Do NOT Stop Making Progress, No Matter What.

Well, let’s hope something jolts Genos back to his senses soon. Before the hangover sets in.

‘Tis Only the Slightest of Shifts and Yet...

He may be called Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask, but for a long time, Murata has drawn Sweet Mask as beautiful, yet not quite right in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. In this chapter, Amai Mask starts out that way, and yet, when he’s considering Saitama, there’s a tiny shift and he’s genuinely handsome. Talk about artistic talent!

Other than scheduling conflicts, Sweet Mask has another reason for wanting to be away from the room. Even if you’re not au fait with the webcomic, there’s certainly something very strange going on with the guy, and his discomfort at realising that the others are talking about humans turning into monsters gives astute readers a hint of what the problem is.

This arc is beginning to take shape and it’s looking like it’s going to be very very good indeed.

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nerium-lil · 7 months

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Of Masks and Mirrors Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Warnings: Mentions of scars, Zoro being an ass

Inside the dimly lit crate, the passed-out crew were slowly coming to. As everyone tried to sit up, adjusting to the cramped space, everyone came to the same conclusion. "They took my swords," Zoro muttered darkly. It was Nami who checked next only to let out a groan, "And my rucksack, ugh, with all my navigation gear." They watched as Luffy suddenly reached for his head, finding his hat he let out a large sigh of relief. "They didn't take my hat."

Meanwhile, the silent woman, seated in a corner, reached up to ensure her mask was still in place. Its continued presence seemed to bring her a semblance of calm amidst the chaos. As the initial disorientation wore off, Zoro's suspicious gaze landed on the masked woman. He recalled his earlier conversation with Luffy, his concerns about this silent, shadowy figure. "Oi, Luffy," Zoro had remarked, "Don't you think it's odd? She hasn't spoken a word since she's been here. How can you trust someone like that?”

Luffy only shrugged, his unwavering gaze on an unseen horizon. “She helped me. That's enough.” But now, confined and weaponless, Zoro's patience had worn thin. He strode towards the masked woman, his intent clear. "You!" he snapped, his voice cutting through the dim space. "Why are you even here? What's your game? Why hide behind that mask?"

The silent woman, taken aback, met his intense gaze. Her eyes, the only part of her face visible, were pools of calm amidst the storm of Zoro's accusations. But, as had become her trademark, she offered no verbal response. Luffy, sensing the escalating tension, intervened. "Zoro, enough. We have other problems to focus on right now." His tone, though casual, held a note of finality.

But Zoro wasn't easily placated. "One day," he muttered, "you'll show your true colors." The woman, her heart aching from the constant mistrust, simply leaned back against the crate's wooden wall, drawing comfort from the mask that had become both her shield and her prison.

Suddenly, Nami jumped up, "Dammit we lost the map!" Luffy also jumped up to reassure her, "No. No, we didn't. It's in a safe place." He gestured to his stomach, Nami looked down and realized what he meant. "Ew." Zoro, suddenly slamming himself against one of the wooden walls surrounding them brought their attention to what the swordsman was doing. Nami tried to get him to stop, but he only continued on making enough noise to wake the dead. Nami started to nearly panic as she started talking about how the marines could potentially execute them all, only for Luffy to drop a bombshell. He mentioned that he had seen a Jolly Roger right before passing out.

The tension in the crate was tangible. As the crew members exchanged words and accusations, the silent woman felt a surge of frustration building within her. She held vital information that could potentially aid their predicament, but her inability to speak rendered her helpless. Desperately, she tried to catch someone's attention. Luffy, Zoro, and Nami were engrossed in conversation, attempting to figure out their next move. With no means to interject, she felt increasingly isolated.

The woman, feeling the weight of her silence more than ever, slumped back, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and despair, trusting that her crew would figure it out, hopefully.

One of the walls sliding away let the crew walk out of the container that had held them in. The woman jumped up at the sudden sounds. They all took in the colorful lights, circus performers going about their acts, and was that a man on a unicycle? The sound of applause made them look and see a crowd of people in the stands, but the looks on their faces did not seem so happy to be there. They all took in the metal chains keeping the people tethered to the stands as hostages.

All of a sudden, they heard a man yell out, "No, no, no! Stop Clapping! No, stop, Its all wrong!" A man with blue hair and in full clown makeup made his way towards the group. They watched as the clown, who was most likely to be the captain continued to lecture his crew about how they had messed everything up.

The woman tried to blend back into the shadows, but with the lights frequently moving, she found it too difficult. Slowly as to not bring attention to herself she moves a little further from the group hoping to get out of the spotlight. She catches Zoro's glare and finds herself rooted in place in realization. He actually thought she was trying to leave them. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the blatant mistrust.

"Hey! I know you!" Luffy shouted at the Pirate clown gaining his full attention on the crew. "I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town! You're the clown guy, um, um, Binky, right?" Luffy said it with such certainty, but the look on the man's face said otherwise. "Buggy." The Pirate looked so done already with Luffy. He stepped down to their level walking towards them.

The pirate threw up his hands and said, "Buggy the Clown, Buggy the Flashy Fool, Buggy the Genius Jester!"

Luffy looked amazed, while Zoro was still on high alert for any attack. "Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are." The sound of gasps from the imprisoned people alerted to Luffy saying something wrong. They watched as the man froze with a deadly serious look on his face. "What did you say?"

"Just that everyone knows who you are," Luffy continued on. Before Scarlet could even blink, the man had Luffy's face in his grip yelling "Nose! Are you making fun of my nose?" Luffy seemed to think for a second. "Well, I wasn't, but now that you mention it, is that thing for real?" Everyone could only watch as Luffy started to reach for the man's nose only get it slapped away.

The crew remained defiantly silent. But Buggy's eyes caught the one member who seemed the most out of place – a masked woman, her gaze unreadable behind the shadow of her hood. He remembered her, the woman who had stared defiantly at him in challenge. As Buggy neared her, there was a split second where their eyes locked. The woman recognized that glint of mischief in his eyes.

Seeing her silence, Buggy's temper flared. "Are you mocking me from behind that mask?" he snarled, storming up to her.

As his fingers neared her mask, she visibly flinched away. Her flinch stopped him in his tracks, and for a moment, his comedic demeanor faltered. "Oh, don't be like that! What's the great Buggy ever done to you?" Buggy paused, stung by her reaction, but not wanting it to physically show. "Does she find me repulsive?" he wondered. Mockingly, he said, "Our little secret, eh?" He gets even closer and hides her face from view with his wide shoulders and continued to pull down her mask.

As his fingers hooked onto the edge of her mask, she tensed, her heart rate quickening. She knew what was coming next. The removal of the mask, the gasps, the recoiling, the whispered comments. The well-rehearsed routine that played out every time someone saw the scar that marred her face.

Internally, her thoughts raced. Not again, she thought desperately. I don’t want to see that look of horror. I don't want to be reminded of that day, of that pain. She braced herself, expecting the sharp intake of breath, the disgust, the revulsion. But it didn't come.

The world seemed to freeze for Buggy. The once vibrant carnival atmosphere Buggy created shifted to a white noise in his ears. The grotesque smile cut into her delicate skin from one side of her face to other in a mockery of his own painted smile, spoke of torments she had endured. Buggy, seeing the deep-seated pain and insecurity in her eyes as if she was waiting for the disgust to come, was an unwanted reminder of his own insecurities about his red nose. His fingers were gentle, almost reverent, as they brushed against her scar. She was caught off guard. No one had ever reacted this way before and she felt lost as to how to react.

Buggy's eyes, normally gleaming with mischief, now held a depth of understanding. And in that moment, she realized that he, of all people, truly understood. They both wore their scars, albeit in different ways. They both knew the pain of being judged, of being seen as different, as lesser. A wave of relief washed over her. There was no revulsion in Buggy's eyes, no malice. Just a shared understanding of pain, of being judged for something beyond one's control. It was an unexpected connection, a moment of clarity amidst the chaos.

A silent understanding passed between them – two souls marred by physical imperfections yet bound by shared pain.

With great care, Buggy placed the mask back on her face giving her a gentle tap to her cheek. Their shared moment, an unspoken bond, was palpable. Without another word, he returned to threatening Luffy and Zoro about his stolen map. However, Zoro's sharp gaze hadn't missed the silent exchange. The swordsman's curiosity was piqued. "What did he see? What is she hiding?" he pondered.

Buggy paced back and forth in front of Luffy before he finally gave the kid his full attention. "I've been scheming for months to steal that map from old axe-hand moron!" At this point he had started to wonder back to the crew only to get in Nami's face this time. When she didn't give him the reaction he wanted, he turned back. "Only to find out that I was upstaged by four, no five, little nobodies." He looked at each one of them taking the longest when he got to the masked woman. "Who stole it from right out under my nos...No!" Buggy threw his head around in anger. "It's in my head now!" Buggy made some angry noises before turning away. Of course, Luffy had to exclaim that he wasn't a nobody and that started a whole new reaction from Buggy.

If that wasn't bad enough, Zoro stepped away from the group, he made his own declaration. "Listen up, I am Roronoa Zoro. Drop your weapons now, and I may let you live." Buggy only seemed to consider the swordsman's words before laughing in his face. Buggy mentioned how he hated sharing the spotlight and pulled out wicked looking blades that were placed between each of his fingers. "Maybe we should skip right to the finale." The feeling of bloodlust that came off the circus crew made the woman feel antsy without her blades.

"Wait, wait, what if I have something else to offer you. Something more valuable than the map. What if I give you a new freak for your crew?" By now Buggy was focused on what the woman was saying. Nami continued on, "A rare talent, the most spectacular act in all of the East Blue, besides you, of course." Nami had Buggy hooked with her words so far. A manic gleam in his eyes. "Go on." Suddenly Nami turned to Luffy and grabbed his hat right off his head only to throw it high into the air. With everyone's attention suddenly on the hat, Nami made a beeline for the exit of the tent.

Luffy's arm stretched way beyond a human's ability as he snatched his hat from the air. Buggy, shocked by the revelation had to take a moment to process what had happened. Seeing Nami being dragged back though with a horrified look on her face was not what the woman had expected as she had seen the woman's prowess. Nami then got in Buggys face screaming about what he had done. Hearing what she had witnessed outside and the pure decimation to the town sent a cold feeling down the group's spine. This just went from bad to worse.

At this point Buggy seemed done with his act as he came towards them. He again brought up the map and how he was going to find it. Still, he only received silence, and he gestured to his crew. A couple of the circus crew came up and suddenly grabbed at Zoro and Nami and the masked woman to pull them away.

The air was thick with tension. Zoro's form was strung up, his hands bound behind him, rendering the master swordsman incapacitated. Across the room, Nami and the masked woman were confined within a cage, their faces pale under the dim light. Zoro's anger bubbled to the surface. Each moment of helplessness only serving to fuel his rage. His eyes, cold and piercing, landed on the silent woman. "It's because of people like you that we're in this mess," he spat venomously. "Always lurking around, never speaking up. What's your game?"

The woman, worn out by the constant mistrust, met Zoro's gaze squarely. For a brief moment, defiance flared in her eyes before she, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, raised her hand and flipped him off. Zoro's anger intensified. "You think this is a joke?" he roared. But before he could say anything further, a mocking laugh echoed through the chamber.

A member of Buggy's crew, Cabaji, stepped into the dim light, his eyes gleaming with malevolence. "Look who we have here," he drawled, "Roronoa Zoro, the Pirate Hunter. And what's this? Showing your true colors, are you? Turning on your crew."

Zoro's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

The pirate smirked. "I've waited a long time for a chance to get back at you for the death of my brother, Zoro. But I have to admit," he glanced at the caged woman, "I didn't expect you to be so heartless. Even I could tell from only a little basic observation that she's mute."

A heavy silence enveloped the room. Nami's eyes widened in realization, and she looked at the woman with a newfound understanding. All the silent nods, gestures, and her inability to respond verbally suddenly made sense. It's not that she didn't want to talk to them, it's that she physically can't. Zoro, however, felt as if he'd been slapped. The weight of his accusations, the bitterness of his words, all bore down on him. He remembered every interaction, every moment of suspicion, every harsh word he'd thrown at her. The realization that he'd been berating someone who physically couldn't defend herself with words gnawed at him.

His voice, noticeably softer and filled with guilt, broke the silence. "You... you can't speak?" The woman merely nodded, her expression inscrutable.

The pirate, enjoying the drama, laughed again. "Seems like you have bigger problems than just me, Zoro." With a wicked grin, he pulled out sharp little throwing knives. Cabaji, having witnessed the silent moment between the masked woman and his captain, and seeing how she was being treated by Zoro made him feel a little empathy. "What do you say Lady, want me to make a pincushion out of the man for you?" He teased as he flashes the daggers.

Zoro was still reeling from the finding out the woman was mute and couldn't help but look at the woman after hearing what the pirate asked. He expected her to nod and silently cheer the man on, he would understand if she did. Instead, he watched as the woman shook her head. The pirate didn't seem to like her answer, so he lost interest in her as he focused more on his revenge for his dead brother.

This worked in their favor as it allowed Nami to focus more on the lock holding the women in the cage. With the pirate focused on Zoro, Nami was able to get the lock to pop open and sneak behind the pirate. She nodded to Zoro that it was time, and with the help of a knife that had partially cut his restraints he physically ripped the rope binding him to the spinning platform just as Nami kicks the enemy into the swordsman's waiting arm. With his single arm he incapacitated the enemy.

Zoro had so much he wanted to say to the masked woman but was shocked when she merely walked by him as if he didn't even exist. He would never admit it, but it had stung, and yet he could not fault her for it.

Nami seeing the internal struggle of the Swordman let out a sigh, but there was too much on the line to focus on the emotional wellbeing at the moment. The three had a captain to save. Zoro turns to Nami, "What's the plan? You do have a plan, right? Thats your thing plans." Nami with a smirk, "I say we beat the hell out of every clown we see." With Zoros swords back at his hip, Namis staff, and the woman's black blades in her hands they marched forward to get their captain.

Seeing Buggy reduced to nothing more than a head, a pair of hands and feet made the woman feel kind of bad, but then she remembers seeing the drowned body of Luffy. With one last look towards the Clown Pirate, she goes back to the solace and comfort of her shadows.

Maybe she was a coward, but she just didn't want to deal with Zoro, and his guilt.

#buggy x oc #one piece #op buggy #op zoro

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theonceoverthinker · 2 years

Text

An Apartment to Share

Bobby lives!AU where the Phantom kept him a prisoner in order to later make him go to jail in his place, but he was foiled and Bobby was saved. Bobby is largely like the Phantom, though he says he would never have used the Jolts of Justice – despite their name, to Bobby, they’re anything but just.

Simon and Bobby are getting acquainted and while Simon finds Bobby slightly more palatable than his ghostly counterpart, Bobby’s energetic attitude, dedication to all things justice, and his persistence in the face of Simon’s gloominess leaves something in him to be desired.

Anyway! That’s only some of why we’re here!

Following his release from prison, Simon has trouble finding an apartment to live in. His old apartment was obviously long-since rented during his incarceration and after seven years without built-up credit (partnered with his intimidating demeanor and Taka’s presence), landlords aren't quick to take him on as a tenant and roommates are even less willing to live with him than them. It’s enough to make Simon break an army’s worth of feathers.

As a result of what’s essentially his homelessness, Simon has been sleeping in his office when he gets a chance, but he knows that can’t go on forever. Sooner or later, someone is going to notice.

A threat of such happening arises one chilly evening, leading a tired Simon to take refuge in a local park. Exhausted after days masking his lack of housing and deprived of the comfort of his office, Simon falls asleep sitting on a bench just before a rainstorm starts.

However, as luck would have it, the very park Simon finds himself in is one that Bobby finds himself passing through on that fateful day, caught in the rain as he makes his way back to his apartment while out on a stroll. He sees Simon sleeping on the bench and tries to wake him up, but Simon, too tired from his continued efforts to cloak his own lack of housing, stays soundly asleep. Bobby looks for an address to take Simon home to, but unable to find such an address and with the rain and chill only getting worse, Bobby picks up Simon and brings him back to his own apartment.

Hours later, Simon wakes up. He’s in an unfamiliar, scarcely-furnished room. Everything that he had on his person when he fell asleep is still present and accounted for and he isn’t bound or anything, so he knows he’s likely not in danger. Still, it’s strange, and Simon hates the idea of being left in the dark. Simon exits the room he’s in, only to find Bobby in the kitchen, who is happy to see that he’s okay. After fighting off some initial embarrassment at being taken to shelter by Bobby Fulbright of all people, Simon questions Bobby about what happened and why he’s here. Bobby informs Simon about the rain in the park and how he couldn’t find Simon’s address so he could take him home, so this was the best he could do to protect him from the downpour. Simon, not able to justify going off at Bobby, gives a quiet ‘thank you.’ Bobby, in turn, gives a loud, bright ‘you’re welcome,’ and Simon finds himself blushing before forcing himself to acknowledge that there’s no one inside this apartment but them.

Bobby offers to take Simon back to his actual home, but much to Simon’s chagrin, the truth comes out as they speak: Simon presently doesn’t have a home to return to. Bobby’s shocked to hear that, embarrassing Simon further. Simon tells Bobby to drop it. However, Bobby doesn’t drop it, nor does he despair. Instead, he points out that as Simon probably noticed, the room he woke up in was all but empty. Well, Bobby’s apartment is a two-bedroom, and it turns out that Bobby’s roommate moved out some time after his abduction by the Phantom, and he’s been hoping to find a new roommate to share the rent with since he was rescued. As far as Bobby’s concerned, Simon is the perfect choice for a new roommate! Simon tells Bobby that he doesn’t have much in terms of credit, but Bobby tells him that it won’t be a problem. He brings up Taka, but Bobby says that the apartment is pet-friendly and that Taka will have a nice window to himself for when he wants to fly as well as space for his perch.

Simon is reluctant to take the room – based on his time with the Phantom as well as his relatively little time the real Bobby Fulbright, he feels like his standard work hours are more than enough time with the man for one day. He’s annoying and loud, even with the limitations of workplace professionalism keeping his full personality at least somewhat restrained. Sharing an apartment – a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom – it feels all too much for Simon to deal with. However, seeing the convenience in the arrangement – not only can he essentially move in right away while also having a home for his dear pet, but Bobby can drive him to and from work – and admitting that he has no better options at the moment, he agrees to temporarily live there, stressing the fact that it will only be temporary. Bobby’s enthusiasm about Simon moving in – expressed through a bear hug – only makes Simon lament the choice all the more. Still, Simon reminds himself that this choice makes the most sense, and so, he follows along with it.

Over the course of the next month or so, Simon and Bobby get used to living with each other.

At first, the change seems as bad as Simon expected it to be. Bobby never shuts up, isn’t the least bit discreet about them living together at work, is overly familiar when they’re home from work, and drives Simon insane. At the same time, Simon’s not exactly a picnic for Bobby either. He’s so secretive, easily annoyed, never thanks Bobby for anything he does, and never wants anything to do with Bobby. It’s more than a little upsetting.

However, things have a way of changing between them, and their time together creates a bond that manages to overshadow even their annoyances.

One change that Simon doesn’t expect from Bobby is how he refers to Simon. When they are at work, Bobby refers to him as “Prosecutor Blackquill,” just as he always has. However, when they’re in the apartment, Bobby calls him “Simon” – nothing more, nothing less. Simon is shocked by this at first because of how unfamiliar it is to hear come out of his subordinate’s tongue, though he never bothers to ask why Bobby is using such a distinction. He guesses (correctly) that it is to differentiate their time on and off the clock, and Simon can’t fault him for that. Whether Simon likes it or not, Bobby shouldn’t be restrained by his work courtesy within the confines of his own home. Still, Simon does find himself unable to do the opposite and call Bobby by his first name, though he at least won’t refer to Bobby as “Detective Fulbright” during non-working hours as a courtesy. After trying “Fool Bright,” and seeing how poorly Bobby receives it outside of work hours, Simon decides to stick with “Fulbright” instead.

Bobby tries to connect with Simon, figuring that since they’re living together, they could be friends. However, Simon puts up no pretense about his objection to the notion. Has no desire to spend time with Bobby outside of work hours and still considers this arrangement of theirs to be temporary and therefore pointless to do such meaningless bonding.

That doesn’t stop Bobby from asking Simon if he wants anything when he orders takeout for himself. It does annoy Simon, but Bobby insists that he’s just being polite, and it’s not like he doesn’t expect to not be compensated for any food he buys, jokingly reminding Simon that Bobby’s salary is at his mercy in the process. Bobby’s lived with roommates before and this is just what roommates do. Simon, who hasn’t had such an experience, decides not to protest the action much after that conversation, but still doesn’t take Bobby up on his offer for the first few times. Each time, Simon regrets it as whatever dinner he gets or makes for himself doesn’t look or smell anywhere as good as Bobby’s does whenever he gets takeout. One night, when the food Bobby’s planning on getting sounds too good to ignore, Simon relents on his resolve and starts ordering food with Bobby.

Additionally, Bobby, even if Simon refuses to be friends with him, does at least want to better understand Simon. After some thought, and essentially no feedback from Simon as to what he could do, Bobby decides that a good way to try to gain such an understanding is by watching some anime and samurai movies that are on TV at night. He doesn’t tell Simon about this and doesn’t outwardly invite Simon to watch with him, though he does hope to himself that Simon notices and maybe joins on his own some time. Well, as Bobby is watching the movies in the living room, it’s hard for Simon not to notice some of his favorite films playing on the living room TV, so he gets his wish…sort of.

The first time Simon sees Bobby doing this, he chooses to ignore it and pay neither Bobby nor the movie any mind before returning to his own room, figuring that Bobby’s trying to persuade Simon to spend time with him. The second time Simon sees Bobby doing this, he scoffs, but commends Bobby for enhancing his own palette for film appreciation. Bobby sincerely asks if he has any recommendations, and Simon gives a couple. At this point, he realizes that Bobby hasn’t actually asked him to participate and asks him why he’s doing this, and Bobby tells him the truth. The third time, seeing Bobby watch one of his recommendations, Simon makes a comment or two about the film without leaving for his room and by the time the movie is entering its third act, Simon is sitting down, watching it just as intently as Bobby is. They watch two more movies that week together, one of which Simon adores and another of which is one that came out while Simon was in prison, and movie night quickly becomes a regular event in their apartment as Simon and Bobby eat dinner and watch films together.

Simon hears Bobby snore all of the time. If the snores weren’t so irritating, Simon would almost be impressed by their sheer volume. Even with his and Bobby’s individual room’s doors closed, Simon can still easily hear rumbles of them. They make Apollo’s ‘objections’ sound normal! Simon makes haste to order a white noise machine in hopes of drowning the sound out once he realizes that Bobby’s snores will be a regular feature of the apartment. However, by the time the machine arrives, Simon’s no longer bothered by Bobby’s snores (Not that the machine is even able to drown him out, in any event). They’re almost comforting.

Upon moving in with Bobby, Simon begins to stow away some money regularly to save for an apartment of his own. After all, Simon said himself that this was to be a temporary arrangement, and if he wants to keep to his promise – as non-binding as it is – he needs to be prepared for it to one day end. However, at some point amidst the shuffle of work, time with his friends, and movie nights with Bobby shared over take out, he begins to neglect putting money away towards that specific purpose and by the end of the second month, he’s all but forgotten such a plan ever existed.

Roughly three months into their new living situation, the Prosecutor’s Office distributes evaluation forms to their prosecutors for the evaluation of their detectives. Simon says nothing about them, though Bobby hears about the evaluations through the grapevine.

It’s Bobby’s first evaluation after being assigned to Simon (He had a prosecutor before, but that prosecutor retired and once they did, Bobby was offered the opportunity to help Simon, but that was obviously taken out of his hands before it could even begin thanks to the Phantom), and he’s worried. The evaluations give prosecutors a field to request the replacement of their detectives. Bobby likes working with Simon and doesn’t want a new prosecutor, though he knows that Simon finds him to be…a bit much sometimes (even if he thinks that they’ve been getting along much better lately). He could imagine that Simon might be inclined to request a replacement, especially given what the Phantom put Simon through using Bobby’s identity and now that they live together on top of already working together.

Bobby stays quiet about his worries over it for a week or so, but eventually, Simon notices Bobby acting off and confronts him. As Bobby is Japanifornia’s worst liar 34 years running, immediately, Bobby confesses his worries to Simon. He expects Simon to smirk and make a mean comment that leaves Bobby just as nervous as before.

However, that doesn’t happen.

Instead, Simon points to his desk in their living room area, says that’s where his evaluation is, and invites Bobby to read what he wrote. Bobby is hesitant to do that, not eager to endanger his and Simon’s delicately built-up trust, but with Simon’s repeated blessing and eventually insistence, Bobby checks out the paper. He doesn’t pay attention to the reviews, instead focusing himself on the part he was so concerned about. In the field where Simon is able to request a change of detectives, Simon writes in no uncertain terms that Bobby is to remain his. Simon supplements his own words by saying that Bobby is by no means perfect – overly loud, obsessed with all things justice, and an utter buffoon – but that he’s a loyal, hard-working detective and one that Simon is not foolish enough to rid himself of. Bobby is so thrilled about Simon’s entry that he gives Simon a big bear hug, much to Simon’s annoyance. Still, it’s an endearing annoyance, though Simon would never admit it out loud.

Maybe it’s even a hug that he likes.

However, despite Simon and Bobby’s mutual desires to stay as partners, they are separated. Neither can make sense of it. Simon specifically requested to keep using Bobby as his detective and those requests are usually heralded, while swaps are rare. Furthermore, they are just beginning a new case together, one that Bobby must now abandon so he can tend to his new prosecutor’s needs. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth is away from the country, so they are denied an answer as to why such a change was made. They resolve to ask Edgeworth when he returns, but for now, they need to start working with their new partners.

Simon is given a stone-faced detective, Stu Ic, who gives curt answers and uses blunt logic to quietly take care of any business Simon assigns to him. After working with Bobby as well as the Phantom’s interpretation of him for so long, Mr. Ic’s demeanor is unnerving. If not for the fact that the Phantom was securely behind bars, Simon could see himself forming a theory of this detective being him. However, the Phantom IS securely behind bars, and this detective, as much as he puts Simon on edge, is competent to the point that Simon is given nothing to comment on, so he must just work with him as best as he can. It shouldn’t be hard. After all, he likes silence and bluntness…right?

Meanwhile, Bobby is given a loud, demanding prosecutor, Raya Naugh, one who all but demands the moon on a string from Bobby at every single turn. Bobby can barely keep track of the tasks he’s done with the flume of new ones that come his way as soon as he finishes another. She has him working from the moment he starts work to well after his regular shift ends – running errands, investigating crime scenes, taking evidence back and forth between the Prosecutor’s Office, the courthouse, and the Police Department. It’s one task to the next, one drive to another – he barely has enough time to eat a sandwich. Bobby loves his job and welcomes any chance to further the fight for justice, but even he needs a break every so often, but with this new prosecutor, he’s denied that.

Both are miserable, though they resolve to stay strong – not that it even matters. Despite living together, Simon and Bobby are barely given all that much time to talk about it because of Bobby’s new work situation. Bobby gets home later and later each night, and is exhausted when he arrives. He can’t do more than give a kind greeting to Simon before going to his room to get whatever sleep he can before he’s put back to work. Movie nights for he and Simon have been all but obliterated, dinners are held alone, and all Simon can do for Bobby is offer some small help with what are normally Bobby’s chores just to make things a bit easier for the man, a sentiment to which Bobby appreciates and guiltily finds that he can only convey any degree of gratitude through barebones text messages between all of Prosecutor Naugh’s demands. Bobby hopes he and Simon will be able to talk soon, once Bobby is better able to adjust to his new workload, though he has no idea when that will happen.

After two weeks of this and hearing Bobby not return until well after the changing of the date one night, Simon decides that enough is enough: Bobby can do a lot, but he doesn’t deserve to be treated like a pack mule, and Prosecutor Naugh clearly needs to understand that. Simon resolves to teach her as much. The next morning, before Bobby can wake up, Simon steals Bobby’s keys, leaving Bobby a note as to his intentions, and drives to the Prosecutor’s Office to speak with Prosecutor Naugh.

When Simon arrives at Prosecutor Naugh’s office, he immediately notices that some things are amiss. First off, Naugh has her back to him as he comes in and speaks, trying to wave him off as she claims she is too busy to talk. Then, Simon notices that she is looking in a safe of hers. Finally, just as he is at her desk, Simon sees something fall out of the desk. It’s evidence, and evidence from the case Simon and Bobby were starting to work on prior to their separation, and a case that is very much still Simon’s.

What is the meaning of this?

Finally, Prosecutor Naugh turns around and looks Simon in the eye. Simon recognizes her from his court record. She might go by a different name there, but he knows she is one of the key figures in the case, and one Simon has suspected of guilt for some time. Now though, she holds the evidence of her possible guilt in her hands.

Simon confronts her, but from behind him, Simon hears a gun pulled out and cocked. He hears the voice of Detective Ic: He and Naugh are in cahoots together and are now taking Simon as a hostage to save their own hydes.

Meanwhile, Bobby wakes up and reads Simon’s note. He rushes over to the prosecutor’s office, aiming an attempt to keep the peace between his old and new prosecutors. He gets to the office, and sees that Simon has been captured. Bobby has no means of getting backup, so he resolves to save Simon alone. Bobby, aided by Simon, is successfully able to incapacitate the two criminals. However, he’s not left unscathed. While saving Simon, Bobby’s right leg is shot. Simon has never heard Bobby scream in pain the way he does as he does when the bullet meets his leg – it’s horrifying in a way Simon can’t possibly explain. Simon calls the hospital the moment he is able to and ensures that the prosecutor and detective who hurt him are arrested as to prevent further harm. Bobby is taken into an ambulance, and Simon tails close behind as they make their way to the hospital.

Roughly an hour passes before Simon is allowed to come into Bobby’s room. Bobby looks like he’s suffering from a cruel cocktail of pain and discomfort, but he’s alive, and for that, Simon couldn’t be more grateful.

Simon practically rushes to Bobby’s side and wraps himself around him, hugging him tightly and calls him “Bobby” for the first time as he thanks him for his rescue. Stunned for a second, Bobby delays for a single beat before hugging Simon back and assuring him that he’s okay. The hug is broken as Simon accidentally triggers pain in Bobby’s leg. Simon apologizes, but is immediately forgiven. They joke about the power of pain medicine.

Simon asks Bobby what can be done for him, and begins listing possible things he could do to help and how he swears that he will prosecute those criminals to the best of his abilities. Bobby interrupts him mid-list, his tone commanding and impatient, but not stoic. Bobby says that a lot is going on right now and he is in pain, scared, and overall just feels overwhelmed. He just wants Simon to stay by his side so he’s not alone throughout this. Simon nods, a small, gentle smile showing on his face, as he moves a chair to Bobby’s bedside and sits down. Suddenly, much to Bobby’s amazement, Simon takes Bobby’s right hand into his and interlocks their fingers. Simon doesn’t comment on this, nor does he look at Bobby while he holds Bobby’s hand, though his smile remains. Despite everything going on around them, a smile appears on Bobby’s face as well, and he leans closer to Simon.

An hour or so passes. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth comes into Bobby’s hospital room and commends Bobby for his bravery. Simon, forgetting all respect for the moment, demands that he and Bobby be placed back together as prosecutor and detective. Edgeworth agrees immediately and reflects at how odd it was that they were separated in the first place, as he was indisposed until just a day or so ago. He imagines that it was put into motion by the crooks themselves, as to make it easier to get the incriminating evidence back into their own hands. At that moment, Bobby’s doctor comes in to talk to him about his condition. Bobby’s leg was heavily damaged by the shot. He will be able to walk with time, but it won’t be an easy recovery. He will need physical therapy and near-constant assistance as he redevelops the strength in his leg and handles his pain medication. Simon assures the doctor and Bobby that he will be taking care of him and requests the time off to do so from Edgeworth, who with no hesitation approves of Simon’s request.

Bobby asks Simon if he’s sure, saying that he doesn’t have to do this: He can hire an aide or something, but Simon says that he wants to look after him. Bobby also points out that this means that the cases he’s working on – including his soon-to-be case against Naugh and Ic – will need to go to another prosecutor if he’s going to be staying home all day with him, but Simon doubles down on his resolve. The Prosecutor’s Office has plenty of competent prosecutors. They can handle his cases just fine. All Simon cares about is helping Bobby get better. Finally accepting Simon’s decision, Bobby smiles at and thanks Simon.

After another day or so in the hospital, Bobby is discharged that evening. It’s a difficult trip getting Bobby back to their apartment, but they do succeed. Bobby gets settled into his bed and he and Simon part for the night.

The next morning, Simon is awoken by a shout from Bobby. He barges into Bobby’s room, only to see Bobby precariously keeping his balance via crutches before falling back onto his bed. Simon scolds Bobby for doing so when he was specifically told not to move on his own, but Bobby tells him that he’s been awake for hours and had to use the bathroom. He tried calling for Simon, but Simon apparently couldn’t hear him, and he couldn’t wait any longer for Simon to wake up and help him.

Simon understands and apologizes for scolding him. It’s not Bobby’s fault, and Bobby tells Simon that it’s not his fault either. He jokes that Simon’s gotten so used to his snoring that his loud noises probably don’t even phase him anymore. Simon muses on this for a second and then proposes a solution. For as long as Bobby needs his assistance to move while recovering, Simon will stay in Bobby’s room with him. Bobby, despite feeling bad for putting this on Simon (a sentiment Simon dismisses as he’s the one who offered to do it), accepts the offer and Simon starts sleeping beside him.

It’s…an adjustment, to be sure.

For one thing, Bobby’s snoring had a way of fading to the background for Simon from the distance between their two rooms after a few weeks of living together, but now that they’re in the same room, the sound booms to the forefront of Simon’s mind once more, and that remains the case for the next week or so.

For another, Bobby had grown used to having a big bed all to himself, so sharing one while also managing his injured leg and trying to stay comfortable all the while is a challenge. It’s nothing Simon can really help – he’s not taking up any more space than any other person would, nor is he hogging the covers. Still, though he’s a hero of justice, Bobby does need to get more acquainted with some aspects of sharing.

Still, they manage, adapting to each other’s quirks and refining their own habits, and sharing a bed gradually becomes a nicer experience for the both of them.

When the nightmares come, their shared space becomes quite welcome.

Yes, unfortunately, on top of dealing with physical injuries, emotional ones quickly come into being as well. Nightmares make their way into Simon and Bobby’s lives.

One night early on, Simon is awoken by Bobby, though Bobby himself is still asleep. Bobby is panting, shaking, and groaning in clear discomfort. Simon can tell that he’s having a nightmare, and wakes him up. He asks Bobby if he wants to talk about his nightmare. Bobby says no, but again, as Japanifornia’s worst liar 34 years and counting, Simon is able to tell that he does, in fact, want to get this off his chest. Simon tells Bobby that no one can force him to talk about it, but that it could prove beneficial to do so. Bobby takes a deep breath, and agrees to tell Simon his nightmare..

Simon suspects that it’s about that day in the Prosecutor’s Office, but Bobby says that it isn’t.

Bobby tells Simon that his nightmare was about the year he spent at the Phantom’s mercy. Simon asks how often he has those kinds of nightmares, and Bobby admits that it’s pretty often. Simon then realizes that he never asked Bobby about his time as the Phantom’s prisoner, and invites Bobby to talk about it. Bobby, no longer holding back, says it was the worst experience of his life – so much worse than getting shot – that he was constantly alone in an often near pitch black room with no clocks or windows, armed only with the knowledge that the Phantom was out there destroying his and others’ lives. Bobby was barely given anything to relieve the ever-present boredom and anxiety, so all he could focus on was his misery and helplessness. Bobby is surprised that he left the Phantom’s captivity with any sanity to spare. He expects Simon to make a sarcastic comment about that, but Simon makes none. Instead, with a thumb rubbing against Bobby’s hand above now loosely united palms, Simon assures Bobby that he’s safe and that the Phantom is in police custody, never to harm Bobby again and that he weathered the worst of his torture.

Bobby asks Simon in turn if he’s ever been bothered by Bobby because of the Phantom’s portrayal of him. After all, as he understands it, the Phantom’s takeover of his life was pretty spot-on. Simon, much to Bobby’s surprise, says he doesn’t: there’s a base aspect of resemblance, but that the true Bobby is humane and kind – optimistic and generous, but not stupid. In hindsight from Simon’s point-of-view, The Phantom was a bastardized, overdone version of him, and so separating the two of them is easy. Bobby smirks and asks if that means that he’s no longer “Fool Bright.” Simon snorts and says that he will always be just a bit of a “Fool Bright,” but that that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The two smile at each other and fall back asleep, their hands still clasped.

The nightmares continue to come. Sometimes, they’re about the Phantom and sometimes, they’re about the incident at the Prosecutor’s Office. Simon is by his side for all of them, coaxing Bobby awake, listening as Bobby tells him what happened, and assuring Bobby of the truth and that the two of them are safe now. They lessen in frequency over a period of time.

Simon has a nightmare as well. He and Bobby are back at the Prosecutor’s Office on the day Bobby was shot. However, in the nightmare, Bobby is shot in his chest instead of his leg and dies in Simon’s arms before he can be rescued.

Outside of the nightmare, Simon, still asleep, calls out Bobby’s name, waking Bobby up, right before doing something unexpected. In both the nightmare as well as in his sleep, Simon clings to Bobby, wrapping the latter in a tight embrace. Bobby wakes Simon up. Simon’s embarrassed about his nightmare – Bobby was the one who was shot, not him. He tries to pull away from the hug he feels that he imposed upon Bobby, but Bobby doesn’t let him, now holding him just as tightly as Simon held him just moments ago. Bobby keeps his arm around Simon – he can tell that Simon not only still needs the hug, but he needs an excuse not to break it. An arm around his body works as well as anything, right?

Bobby reminds Simon that they’re partners. They don’t need to compete for who suffered more because they both did, and either’s loss is a loss for the other as well – that’s how this works. However, the bright side of this is that they’re never going to have to deal with those losses alone.

Other than Taka and Athena, no one has ever proven that sentiment to Simon before. However, Bobby Fulbright has more than earned his place among that exclusive population.

Throughout the weeks Bobby is getting better, Simon – with some assistance from Taka, the Wright Anything Agency, and some of Bobby’s colleagues and friends from work – takes care of Bobby – helping him move across rooms, getting him food, cleaning, etc. Bobby is really grateful, and makes sure Simon knows that. From anyone else, such praises would feel trite. However, from Bobby Fulbright, Simon knows that they are always earnest and now have a way of leaving Simon’s upper torso feeling just a bit warmer.

Simon and Bobby’s bond continues to grow, as Bobby’s recovery progresses. Physical therapy works wonders and has largely restored Bobby’s leg to near full strength. According to Bobby’s doctor, in another two weeks, should his recovery stay on its current trajectory, Bobby should be able to return to work, granted in a limited capacity. Simon attends a doctor’s appointment with Bobby where Bobby learns that he should no longer need Simon’s assistance. Simon can move back into his own room. A social pressure that is as unspoken as it is unwanted by either of them pushes Simon and Bobby to part rooms again.

Simon has trouble sleeping, now back in his own bed. The absence of Bobby’s physical presence makes something feel off, though he refuses to entertain the implications of it, despite those implications all but battering down a door in his mind while shouting that they are facts.

Two nights in, at around one in the morning, after losing against a bout of tossing and turning, Simon realizes that he doesn’t hear Bobby’s snoring. After a while, all of Bobby’s snores, both at a distance and in his face, might have dissipated into something of a white noise that would no longer distract Simon the way they once did, but he could still hear them nonetheless. Simon is then alerted at the sight of light at the bottom of his door. It can only be the TV from the living room. He can even vaguely hear soft noises coming from it.

After months of living together, Simon understands some fundamental truths about his roommate. Bobby doesn’t fall asleep on the couch, he doesn’t forget to turn the TV off when he retires to his room, and he doesn’t stay up late, let alone into the middle of the night. Simon leaves his bedroom to investigate.

In the living room, Simon sees Bobby watching TV on the couch, still very much awake. Simon asks if everything is alright, if he’s been having nightmares again, either about his time with the Phantom or his being shot. Fortunately, Bobby didn’t – he just can’t sleep. Bobby asks Simon why he’s up, and Simon confesses to the same. They commiserate about being unable to sleep and Simon joins Bobby on the living room couch.

Their unspoken, yet shared personal theory on the reason why they can’t sleep is impossible to ignore: After weeks of sleeping beside each other, they’re just not used to sleeping by themselves anymore. The theory is reinforced by the fact that while they find no sleep in the comfort of their individual beds, they are able to at last rest on their couch whilst beside one another until the sunlight has long-since kissed their window good morning. Bobby poses the theory in jest, and in a jest-like manner of his own, Simon voices his agreement.

The next night, Bobby, smirking, invites himself to join Simon in bed. As his bed is smaller than Bobby’s, Simon agrees, but only if they go to Bobby’s room instead, a mock-annoyance littering his tone like pennies on a street curb. They sleep perfectly that night.

Over the next couple of weeks, Bobby and Simon start finding themselves giving each other long, lingering gazes and looking for extra opportunities to talk. Physical intimacy increases, even in relation to sharing a bed – casual touches on the shoulder, nudges against the ribs, even a bit of leaning on the other on the couch. Unlike the touches that happened when Simon was taking care of Bobby, these have nothing to do with recovery – they just do them because they want to.

The idea of possessing romantic feelings for each other comes to light for the both of them.

Initially, Simon protests to himself the idea of catching feelings for Bobby. Sure, he enjoys being around him more these days than he did before and Bobby is handsome and he has the kindest heart that Simon has ever gotten to know, but…it’s Bobby Fulbright! He’s…he’s him! The idea of being attracted to him – wanting to cuddle in his strong arms or kiss his nice lips – is just absurd!

Isn’t it?

No, it’s not absurd. His reservations die like flowers in the winter, and fewer reappear to try to curb his affections for Bobby by the day. It’s maddening, but more so because Simon finds it less and less maddening with the passage of time.

Bobby’s reservations are smaller, but not negligible. He doesn’t want to entirely dismiss the possibility that Simon might only have a desire to be near him and be so tender with him because Bobby saved his life. Bobby doesn’t want to exploit that. Despite his, and possibly Simon’s present feelings, it’s an unjust way to start a relationship.

However, Bobby’s not so sure about that. He’s no master of analytical psychology like Simon and Athena are, but Simon doesn’t give off such signs of hero worship. His personality is still as it usually is – kinder, sure, but not to such an extent that he’s finding Bobby faultless. Simon still rolls his eyes whenever he talks about justice, will leave the room any time Bobby watches a Blue Badger program, and jokes about his snoring at least twice a week. Besides, with hero worship, warm feelings were supposed to diminish over time. With Simon, they’ve been stable, or have maybe even grown warmer since the day he was shot.

Finally, with less than a week left in their apartment before they return to work, a move is made.

It’s a rainy day, so very similar to the one that led Simon and Bobby to share a home in the first place. Both notice this, but neither point it out. They’re resting on the couch, barely half a foot from each other, talking about how Bobby will be returning to work next week. He says that he’s ready and snarks that he only hopes he and Simon haven’t become too soft from their long break. They laugh together.

A silence that is simultaneously comfortable and uncomfortable emerges between the two of them, the TV making the only noise in the whole apartment.

Before Simon can stop himself, he leans into Bobby’s side, and Bobby’s arm instinctually pulls the left side of Simon’s hip closer to him. Both smile and look at each other.

There’s a soft tension in the room, that while still soft, only feels stronger with each passing second. If they’re to do something about the feelings they so clearly have for each other, now is the time. Once things start up in their lives again, they won’t get a moment like this again for quite a while.

They both decide to take a chance.

Simon and Bobby both lean forward and close the distance between their lips.

Their kiss is slow and passionate, arms lazily curling around each other’s backs to bring them even closer together. Bobby drags Simon from leaning onto Bobby’s side to sitting on his lap, all the while, never breaking their kiss.

When they do finally part, their heads remain touching, noses against cheeks and hair as they release faint chuckles. They say that the kiss felt good, and then go in for another and then another after that.

Even as they suspect as much later on, neither Simon nor Bobby know as they happen, that these kisses are the first of a lifetime’s worth of them that they’d share in their apartment.

#blackbright #ace attorney #simon blackquill #bobby fulbright

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sealpup9 · 2 years

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In regards to the post about characters who seem collected and have their shit together but then you peel back a few layers and they are so inherently flawed: I'd like to talk about Diluc Ragnvindr.

(as always, k/luc shippers DNI please)

I'm going to be talking about a few of the recent events here, as well.

When the traveler met Diluc, it was clear that the man has a lot of concern about the well-being of others, and Mondstadt as a whole. He accepts the fact that Venti is Barbatos and it doesn't change his objective. He doesn't like to work with the Knights for unknown reasons. He works at night in disguise to keep the city safe.

He seems to be a very level-headed man with straight morals, and he has a gentlemanly presence. He is well-spoken and knows when things need to be taken into his own hands.

When faced the issue of the Abyss Order sending the Knights of Favonius a sort of peace offering to make a mutual enemy of the Darknight Hero, he already knows. It's odd, right? So, he must have connections. And a fast working network at that. Ok, so that's not unheard of. He's rich and powerful, but he's using those resources to help others. Right?

When speaking of good and evil, he states that "heroes and villains are both sides of one coin".

And you think huh. Ok. Alright. That's odd to be saying but whatever. I know you're a good guy, you helped us thwart the Abyss Order.

So you go with him to stake out an area to gather information on the Abyss Order with him. He insists on masks. Ok. Well. I guess that makes sense right? But Diluc has bright red hair. How stupid is the enemy?

You corner the abyss mage and oh ok. Diluc is committing a literal war crime by torturing the mage with pyro. He slipped into a separate angrier tone of voice and started using pyro with his bare hands. Is that something people with visions usually do? Well, according to the Abyss Mage, no.

Diluc burns the guy for intel and then it's hinted that he killed it in the end, seeing as it's disappeared from the area.

Ok.

Paimon is scared of him now. Valid. But he's on our side? So there's nothing to worry about. Only you remember his line about heroes and villains. Ok.

So Diluc comes up with this thought of using this mixture that slimes are attracted to en-masse and dumping that at the side gate to distract the knights. He says this is the only way. Insisting that you do not tell the knights about this because they're ill equipped.

It seems… dramatic honestly. Right? I mean, the Knights are also actively trying to protect the city.

But diluc goes on to explain every bit of his plan. And you realize uh. Well you won't be doing much, huh. This is a plan that mostly involves Diluc telling you what's going to happen. Step by step.

Lie to the knights.

Make sure you get out of the tavern.

Get to the gates by 10pm to meet the small army of abyssal creatures that are set to storm the city.

And diluc just singlehandedly takes them all out. Not even using his vision a majority of the time.

He is a fucking force to be reckonedc with. Why did you come along. He slaughtered everything with no remorse.

So now, at the end of this quest.

You have this man who supposedly is calm and collected- scrambled to put together a very intricate plan to put Mondstadt in danger (specifically the slime infestation at the side gate that, the traveler will STILL get commissions to deal with the slimes years later), simply so he (the more capable one in his mind) could go out and be a vigilante, to save the city himself.

And you start to realize that no. Diluc really isn't a good person.

Does he genuinely care about protecting the innocents in Mond? Yes.

It's clear that this is something that distresses him and that weighs heavily on his shoulders. He never regards himself as a hero, either. He does not do this for recognition.

Will Diluc put others in danger to continue playing out this role he's picked for himself? Yes. He put the city in danger to make sure he could take care of what he did.

He's also not above torturing captives for information

And then you read his story.

He went on a 3 year spree across Teyvat to search for answers in regards to his father's death. Using the delusion that killed his father, and learning to use it without killing himself. He killed so many Fatuus and took out so many strongholds that the Harbingers themselves had to come and put him down.

And it's odd, right?

Because over the last few updates, the traveler has been learning that the Fatui are a cult, essentially. And the soldiers that work hard and fight are doing this because it's this great honor, but they're also people. They're actual people with actual quests and motivations and stories.

(Side note: If you haven't done the fortune slip hidden quest in inazuma you should. There's some juicy fatui lore to be had)

And the more the traveler learns about the Fatui, the more they are people.

Diluc shut out the notion that each and every soldier he killed was an individual. He's not welcome in Snezhnaya because of what he did. He likely killed hundreds of Fatuus in his 3 year spree.

And every time we have conversations with some Fatuus that are willing to talk, I just think about how Diluc went and slaughtered ruthlessly.

Agafya in this quest at golden apple archipelago says something like "you wpuld really burn someone alive? Not even the cruelest Fatui Agent would do that."

And I think that wording was purposeful. We know damn well Diluc would.

She also says it's inhumane to torture people for information, and that they are taught that if they give up intel to the enemy, then they'll be killed with no remorse because the other side will have no use for you. Citing incidents mentioned in the past by her commander.

It's just… telling. And I'm maybe reading too into things, but if the Fatui are all briefed on the traveler and Paimon… with what we've done… there's no way Diluc and his actions aren't being used to further scare the Fatui soldiers into behaving a certain way. They have specific rules to follow during situations where they are hostages. They mention being burned alive and how cruel it is.

What I'm easentially trying to say is: Diluc has committed atrocities. Diluc has likely not paid for these atrocities, just like he hasn't paid for harming his brother.

Diluc is stuck in this world where he thinks his actions are selfless simply because they align with a certain moral cause. But his morals change based on the situation and based on the enemy.

Remember those rumors Moco and Hillie (two of Diluc's maids) talk about at the winery? About people staying the night and then going missing the next morning? And how Adelinde refused to acknowledge it?

I think Diluc has a hand in that.

I think Diluc is a dangerous man who refuses to acknowledge what he is. He's deeply traumatized by what happened with his father to the point where he hates talking about it. He carries the weight of Mondstadt's well-being on his shoulders alone because he 'has to' or 'he's the only one capable'. When in actuality he knows damn well there are good knights who are trustworthy. (Jean, Kaeya, Albedo).

I think he's selfish at heart. Living out his fantasy here in Mondstadt. Refusing to change. Wallowing in self-loathing whenever something horrible happens. Putting others down to continue what he supposedly has to do alone.

He'd a mess, truly. And I wouldn't want to make an enemy out of him.

I know people talk about a betrayal in terms of Kaeya and Khaenri'ah. But I think if anyone, we should be worried about Diluc snapping. He's dangerous. He has connections. He has the means to make problems disappear. He has the money, the status.

He's so dangerous. And yet his self-loathing, his guilt, and his stubbornness keep him from going down that route.

It's part of why I think, if he ever approaches Kaeya to reconcile, I think that's when the traveler should start being worried about ulterior motives or drastic happenings.

Yes he cares. Yes! I do genuinely think he cares! But it's also such a vicious cycle of harm and hatred. And hatred kills people from the inside out.

Anyway yeah thanks for listening to my absolute mess of an infodump. If you made it this far thank you I appreciate your patience and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

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enneamage · 2 years

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This post is going to go into why I typed Quackity as a Four wing Three instead of a Three wing Four, inspired by a message I got a little bit ago over chat. This post is going to walk so a TNTduo post down the road can run.

3w4 and 4w3 can be difficult to pick out sometimes, and there are still some people that float in that gap for me. Their motivations on paper can also look quite similar, so making the call can be hard. The big tell is usually how the core types relate to their emotions, and in what ways that their feelings can drive them when they’re around mid-range health.

Quackity never leaves home without his whole ass heart. His streamer persona isn’t just a mask, it’s a full-on self state that he occupies which lets him react viscerally and sincerely to the things around him. Fours are naturally inclined to be in touch with their emotions most of the time, and with the added Three wing, Quackity is always on the lookout to align his work ethic with the thing that feels right.

By contrast, under the right (wrong?) circumstances, type Threes can actually become very divorced from their own emotions, either losing awareness of them or compartmentalising them under masks made to achieve what they think they must. Threes can take on a bit of a dissociated quality over time, burying authentic emotions and ‘doing’ fake ones to reach a goal. This can make them better at diplomacy, but it makes it harder for them to be fully authentic and sincere. Even 3w4’s tend to make more fleeting contact with their feelings, ‘checking in’ with authenticity & emotions when alone but in a bit more of a ‘mission mindset’ in public.

Now we’ve got a whole problem in society where emotions and ‘intelligence’ are seen to be on opposite ends of a spectrum, so I must disclaim that leading with emotionality doesn’t mean that Q isn’t smart. He’s got a strong set of instincts on top of his intelligence, and the two flow into each other well. His heart tells him what to pay attention to, and his head lets him figure out how to get it done.

A clunky but solid shorthand way to understand type Four is they can lead with their “Right Brain” (metaphorically)—they don’t use these functions exclusively, but they have a unique connection to the things most commonly associated with what the ‘Right Brain’ is meant to be- emotions, shapes, vibes, things more likely to come out in art and nonverbal expression. Even when they’re speaking, you can usually hear the subtlety of their feelings in the words that they’re saying (more than most.) They’re concerned with authenticity, which can make them introspective and prone to rumination, which has room to go wrong if the emotional landscape gets dark.

Quackity’s got a heavy Three wing, considering his work ethic and his career. He’s a streamer and a law student, I love a stubborn bastard. He works his ass off to get what he wants, and doesn’t like to cut corners, trying to get things as close to his vision as possible. He’s passionate and contrarian, liking to push against when people either say or imply he can’t achieve something.

Fours are talked about as ‘withdrawing’ types, often associated with privacy and sensitivity to compliment a rich inner life. An interesting way that has manifested for Q is that while he is a public figure, he’s got a stranglehold on his privacy. Even among friends, if Q doesn’t offer the information himself, other people don’t know things about him even if they ask. One of the nuggets that we do get to know about his withdrawn time is he likes the meditative part of driving, going places just because.

Q will not do something (including streaming) if it doesn’t feel right, and he’s got a whim of steel. He’ll also dig his heels in ten times harder if people are trying to get him to do something that he doesn’t want to do. Still, he’s got the passion and the will to put himself out there, finding ways to engage with the world and get the most out of it, marrying ambition and authenticity.

#Qkty 4w3

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yegarts · 11 months

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Indigenous Framework Art Collection unveiled at City Hall

Indigenous Framework Logo by Tashina Makokis.

The City of Edmonton’s Indigenous Framework was built on years of dialogue with Indigenous communities, while seeking to answer the question, "How can the City of Edmonton best support and build strong relationships with Indigenous Peoples in Edmonton,” These conversations included formal and informal relationships with Elders, community Knowledge Keepers, and Indigenous youth, as well as information gathering from research and discussions with municipal and community leaders, service providers, and academic professionals.

In 2019, Indigenous artists Melissa-Jo (MJ) Belcourt Moses, Brad Crowfoot, Dawn Marie Marchand and Lana Whiskeyjack were invited by the City of Edmonton to capture the spirit of the Indigenous Framework community conversations and tell a story through creation of a visual art piece. The collection of completed artworks embody how City leaders and staff should strive to honour the spirit of kinship, the Indigenous Framework roles and commitments, and how to be a good relative to each other and to the land. The public display of the Indigenous Framework art collection in City Hall is a direct response to the Indigenous Framework, Truth and Reconciliation Commission and MMIWG2S+ commitments and actions to ensure the resurgence of Indigenous cultures and histories in city spaces.

As the artworks are unveiled at City Hall, we asked the participating artists and Jaimy Miller, Director of Indigenous Relations at the City of Edmonton, to reflect on their work and what it means to be involved in this project.

PISISKAPAHTAM (to notice and observe or watch) by Lana Whiskeyjack. Photos by Dwayne Martineau.

Your artworks were all inspired and informed by the results of the community engagement process for the Indigenous Framework. What about that process and what you learned, made its way into your individual work?

Lana: As the community members gathered to share about PISISKAPAHTAM, I listened and responded through live painting. Their stories of cultural memories braiding in their experiences of racism, violence, and poverty in the city provoked my experiences as nehiyaw iskwew. Our collective stories were translated through the colours and images.

MJ: I started my art piece just prior to Covid–19. Feeling the pressure to get it finished, I asked my niece Bella Stonehouse to sort beads for the 14 rows. Time was limited, so my friends Debbie Houle and Sherryl Sewepagaham offered to thread beads. Half-way through the threading and stitching, news of Covid struck and we were forbidden to be in close quarters. My social work-bee came to an end. Sheryl brought me some toilet paper, and with masks to cover our faces, we bumped elbows goodbye.

Under the strains and confines to the Covid outbreak I learned that my strongest ties to the Indigenous arts community emerged from my long-standing connections and friendships.

Overall connection to community is the significance that comes from the creation of the art itself, people coming together, assisting, and contributing what they can do to complete the work. Though we were not able to meet, I still felt supported and encouraged to complete my piece.

Dawn Marie: I recreated the facilitation notes and flip charts of the community engagement process. When I looked at it, I looked for themes and recurring statements until the structure presented itself. It’s all their words just reorganized. Upon reviewing all the support materials, it was clear that the conversations at the various tables centred around four main themes; financial support, staff/training, ombudsman/advocacy office and culturally safe space/s.

Several symbols such as horses and hoof prints symbolize concerns and barriers brought forward by Indigenous community members like financial support and sustainable funding. The movement of horses, for example, represents how the City must collaborate with Indigenous communities in Edmonton to ensure actions reflect diverse voices and perspectives. Other symbols like the circles represent the need for continuous education and training and self-reflection of personal beliefs, attitudes, and assumptions leading to action against racism towards Indigenous Peoples. The intent of the artwork is for City staff to put these teachings into practice in the workplace. For a deeper understanding, there is an artwork guide on the City’s Indigenous Framework webpage.

Brad: One of the themes that came out of the community engagement was Treaty. One point made was, Treaty was the original framework, and this inspired me to use the kohkum scarf and the colours: yellow, blue and green. For as long as the sun shines, the river flows and the green grass grows. We are all treaty people.

ᐊᒥᐢᑲᐧᒋᐋᐧᐢᑲᐦᐃᑲᐣ Amiskwaciy-wâskahikan by MJ Belcourt-Moses. Photos by Dwayne Martineau.

What does it mean to you as an artist to have your artwork on display in City Hall?

Lana: As a nehiyaw iskwew visual storyteller, my intention is to contribute to the diverse decolonial stories of courage for our future generations. To have the municipal leadership collectively agree to provide City Hall walls to carry the collective visual stories of Indigenous peoples is an act of reconciliation.

MJ: It’s an honour and a privilege to represent my ancestral ties through a creative lens that ties me to land. Presenting my perspective to a wider audience about our relationship to land and stories connect us to where we are from and who resides within these parameters. We are here, tied to place we call home ᐅᑳᐁᐧᒫᐊᐧᐢᑭᕀ [okâwîmâwaskiy] -- mother earth. It is my hope that the 7th generation still has beauty to breathe deeply in.

Brad: For someone who was born and raised in Edmonton and to see City Hall host numerous events and have many very talented artists on display and their work showcased. I feel honoured to be apart of them and to see my work alongside the other artists who contributed to this project. It gives you a feeling of validation as an artist.

City as an Advocate by Dawn Marie Marchand. Photos by Dwayne Martineau.

What message about the Indigenous Framework do you want to share with our arts and cultural communities?

Lana: The amount of mental, emotional, and physical labour to collect, share and mobilize these stories of Indigenous relatives is a great gift to the city. I am proud to live in a city that listens and governs with action to create good relations for our future generations.

Dawn Marie: I’m grateful that there was a well-rounded engagement process.

MJ: Connection is vital... get to know each other. Go to an art exhibit, buy some Indigenous art, listen/read Indigenous storytellers, have tea with an Elder. If we are visitors to these lands or if this is the land of our forefathers, we must show respect for the giving and sharing.

Brad: My art piece has bit of the past with the kohkom scarf, a symbol of how Indigenous peoples adopted the Ukrainian scarf as their own showing great respect towards the Ukrainian community. Parts of the present with the Beaver Hills House Park art installation shows the City of Edmonton working with Indigenous communities to showcase our art in public displays. I added the seven teachings, to look into the future with an Indigenous lens if we want true reconciliation.

Jaimy: The Indigenous Framework was developed through a co-creative process with community members, organizational partners, and Elders, youth, and artists. Working with Indigenous artists presented a wonderful opportunity to capture the intentions, the feelings, and the statements of community in a visual representation. Their artwork is a reflection of community, of our city, and speaks to the four roles that the city of Edmonton is striving to live out - to be a listener, a partner, a connector, and an advocate and to build positive meaningful relationships with Indigenous peoples in Edmonton.

One of our commitments in the Indigenous Framework is to create safe welcoming spaces for and with Indigenous people, and to ensure that Indigenous communities see themselves reflected in city spaces and places. Art plays a fundamental role in creating a sense of place, identity, and connection to community.

Heart Beat of a Nation by Brad Crowfoot. Photos by Dwayne Martineau.

Is there anything else you wish to share?

Lana: Please be a better relative. Nohkom would say, “Speaking, walking, talking and supporting with kindness is one the best ways to being a better human.”

Dawn Marie: Thanks for the chance to show alternative ways to knowing and showing story.

Brad: I would like to thank MacEwan University for this opportunity to be involved in this project. Even the community engagement was held there, where I met and listened to what people had to say. I included the Poundmakers Singers, a photo that was taken as they sang for MacEwan’s unveiling of their Treaty 6 marker.

Jaimy: I am so thrilled to see these artworks have a home in City Hall and be displayed for all Edmontonians and all leaders now and in the future that will walk through these halls. I hope that people will take the time to view the art and reflect on the gifts of the artists, and the messages within their art. And of course, I encourage people to read the Indigenous Framework at edmonton.ca/indigenousframework

About the artists

Lana Whiskeyjack

Dr. Lana Whiskeyjack is nehiyaw iskwew (Cree woman) scholartist (scholar and artist) from Saddle Lake Cree Nation and is an associate professor in the Department of Women's and Gender Studies in the Faculty of Arts, University of Alberta. Dr. Whiskeyjack demonstrates innovative interdisciplinary knowledge translation and mobilization through arts-based practices, community-engaged research, scholarship services and teaching. As a graduate from the first Indigenous governed educational institution in North America and former Indian Residential School, in the iyiniw pimâtisiwin kiskeyihtamowin doctoral program at University nuhelot’įne thaiyots’į nistameyimâkanak Blue Quill, she has an excellent record of research/creative dissemination that is grounded within nêhiyaw (Cree) ceremony, nêhiyawêwin (Cree language) and nêhiyaw worldview.

Dawn Marie Marchand

Dawn Marie Marchand is a member of Cold Lake First Nation in Treaty Six territory. cîpêhcakwawêw-iskwêw (Blue Horse Spirit Woman) is a Cree and Metis artist, educator, advocate, author, writer, speaker, and mother. Her many noted accomplishments include Circle of Courage Coordinator for the Alberta Indigenous Games in 2011, Co-founder and lead organizer of Cree8 Success Conference in 2012, art installations for the Edmonton Folk Festival in 2013 called “Monto”; Edmonton City Hall in 2014 during the Truth and Reconciliation Gathering “A Place to Hang your Stories”; co-producing the Walrus Talks-Aboriginal City art components in 2015, “Edmonton Treaty 6 Soccer ball”; and Redx Talk “Art is the Medicine” in 2016; and an installation called “The Longest Journey” as part of the Nuit Blanche Festival in 2018. She received an Aboriginal Role Model Award for Art in 2017, during her term as the First Indigenous Artist In Residence for the City of Edmonton, facilitated the Indigenous Artist Market Collective engagement and launch in 2018. In mid 2019, she relocated to Smoky Lake, AB. Since then she has had work installed in Concordia College, Indigenous Knowledge and Research Centre, Stanley Milner EPL, PÎYÊSÎW WÂSKÂHIKAN. She has had her work projected as part of Dreamspeakers Light Strikes in numerous locations including Dubai and has recently had work projected as part of the Land Acknowledgment during the Junos celebrations in 2023. She was the artist consultant for Punctuate! Theatre's "First Métis Man of Odessa" which is currently touring nationwide. She continues to advocate for removing systemic barriers for Indigenous artists across Canada.

MJ Belcourt Moses

MJ is a traditional Métis artist, certified Native Cultural Art instructor and most recently served as Indigenous Art Consultant for Fort Edmonton Park and Indigenous Curator for the Edmonton Public Library. In 2019, MJ served as an Indigenous Artist in Residency with the City of Edmonton.

“I have a keen interest in the promotion and education of Indigenous Arts that relate to our cultural life locally, provincially and nationally… Indigenous People rich contribution to Canada’s history and heritage reflects perseverance, strength and resilience - Art celebrates the achievements.”

Brad Crowfoot

Brad Crowfoot is a Blackfoot and Navajo multi-media artist, born and raised in Edmonton. He’s been active within the arts scene for almost 20 years and is known for capturing Indigenous arts, culture and entertainment through photography and digital media. He went to school for Arts and Cultural Management at MacEwan University and was involved with kihêw waciston as part of the Indigenous Student Council Executives. He got involved with the City of Edmonton and the Indigenous Framework to help showcase the City as a partner.

#edmonton #yegarts #yeg #yegpublicart #indigenous art #city hall #IndigenousFramework

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