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vickyvicarious · 3 years

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Leverage Redemption Pros/Cons List

Okay! Now that I've finally finished watching the first half of Leverage: Redemption, I thought I'd kind of sum up my overall impression. Sort of a pro/con list, except a little more just loosely structured rambles on each bullet point rather than a simple list.

This got way out of hand from what I expected so I'm going to put it all under a cut. If you want the actual bulletpoint list, here it is:

PROS

References

Continuity

Nate

Representation

Themes

New Characters

General Vibe

CONS

'Maker and Fixer'

Episode Twins

Sophie's Stagefright

Thiefsome

You might notice the pros list is longer, and that's because I do love the show! I really like most of what it does, and my gripes are fewer in number and mostly smaller in size. But they do exist and I felt like talking about them as well as the stuff I loved.

PROS

References

There is clearly so much love and respect for the original show here. Quite aside from the general situation, there's a lot of references to individual episodes or character traits from the first show. For example, Parker's comments on disliking clowns, liking puppets, disliking horses, stabbing vs. tasing people. The tasing was an ongoing thing in the original, the stabbing happened once (S1) but was referenced later in the original show, the clown thing only had a few mentions scattered across the entire original show. The puppet thing was mentioned once in S5, and the horses thing in particular was only brought up in S1 once. But they didn't miss the chance to put the nod to it in there; in fact with those alone we see a good mix of common/ongoing jokes and smaller details.

We got "dammit Hardison" and "it's a very distinctive..." but also Eliot and Parker arguing about him catering a mob wedding, and Eliot being delighted by lemon as a secret ingredient in a dish in that same episode (another reference to the mob episode). Hardison and Eliot banter about "plan M", an ongoing joke starting from the very first episode of the original show. We see Sophie bring up Hardison's accent in the Ice Job, Parker also makes reference to an early episode when describing "backlash effect" to Breanna, in an episode that also references her brother slightly if you look for it.

Heck, the last episode of these first eight makes a big deal out of nearly reproducing the iconic opening lines of the original show with Fake Nate's "we provide... an advantage." And I mean, all the "let's go steal a ___" with Harry being confused about how to use them.

Some of the lines are more obviously references to the original show, but they strike a decent balance with smaller or unspoken stuff as well, and also mix in some references between the team to events we the audience have never seen. If someone was coming into this show for the first time, they wouldn't get all the easter egg joy but most of the references would stand on their own as dialogue anyway. In general, I think they struck a good balance of restating needed context for new viewers while still having enough standalone good lines and more-fun-if-you-get-it callbacks.

Continuity

Similar to the last point, but slightly different. The characters' development from the original to now is shown so well. I'm not going to go on about this too long, but the writers clearly didn't want to let the original characters stagnate during the offscreen years. There was a lot of real thought put into how they would change or not.

It's really written well. We can see just how cohesive a team Parker, Hardison, and Eliot became. We get a sense of how they've spent their time, and there's plenty of evidence that they remained incredibly close with Sophie and Nate until this past year. The way everyone defers to Parker is different from the original show and clearly demonstrates how she's been well established as the leader for years now - they show this well even as Parker is stepping back to let Sophie take point in these episodes. Eventually that is actually called out by Sophie in the eighth episode, so we might see more mastermind Parker in the back half of the show, maybe. But even with her leading, it's clear how collaborative the team has become, with everyone bouncing ideas off one another and adding their input freely. Sometimes they even get so caught up they leave the newbies completely in the dust. But for the most part we get a good sense of how the Parker/Hardison/Eliot team worked with her having final say on plans but the others discussing everything together. A little bit more collaborative than it was with Nate at the helm.

Meanwhile Sophie has built a home and is deeply attached to it. She and Nate really did retire, at least for the most part, and she was living her happy ending until he died. She's out of practice but still as skilled as ever, and we're shown how much her grief has changed her and how concerned the others are for her.

There's a lot of emphasis on how they all look after one another and the found family is clearer than ever. Sophie even calls Hardison "his father's son" - clearly referring to Nate.

Nate

Speaking of Nate! They handled his loss so, so well. His story was the most complete at the end of the last show, and just from a narrative point, losing him makes the most sense of all the characters. But the way he dies and his impact on the show and the characters continues. It's very respectful to who he was - who he truly was.

Nate was someone they all loved, but he was a deeply flawed individual. Sophie talks about how he burned too hot, but at least he burned - possibly implying to me that his drinking was related to his death. In any case, there's no mystery to it. We don't know how he died but that's not what's most important about his death. This isn't a quest for revenge or anything... it's just a study of grief and trying to heal.

Back to who he really was real quick - the show doesn't eulogize him as better than he was. They're honest about him. From the first episode's toast they raise in his memory, to the final episode where Sophie and Eliot are deeply confused by Fake Nate singing his praises, the team knows who he was. They don't erase his flaws... but at the same time he was so clearly theirs. He was family, he was the man they trusted and loved and followed into incredibly dangerous situations, and whose loss they all still feel deeply.

That said, the show doesn't harp on this point. They reference him, but they don't overwhelm new viewers with a constant barrage of Nate talk. It always serves a purpose, primarily for Sophie's storyline of moving through her grief. Anyway, @robinasnyder said all of this way better than me here, so go read that as well.

Representation

Or should I say, Jewish Hardison, Autistic Parker, Queer Breanna!

Granted, Hardison's religion isn't quite explicitly stated to be Jewish so much as he mentions that his "Nana runs a multi-denominational household", but nonetheless. He gets the shows big thesis statement moment, he gets a beautiful speech about redemption that is the emotional cornerstone of that episode and probably Harry's entire arc throughout the show. And while I'm not Jewish myself, most of what I've seen from Jewish fans is saying that Hardison's words here were excellent representation of their beliefs. (@featherquillpen does a great job in that meta of contextualizing this with his depiction in the original show as well.)

Autistic Parker, however, is shown pretty dang blatantly. She already was very much coded as autistic in the original show, but the reboot has if anything gone further. She sees a child psychologist because she likes using puppets to represent emotions, she stims, she uses cue cards and pre-written scripts for social interactions, there's mention of possible texture sensitivity and her clothes are generally more loose and comfortable. She's gotten better at performing empathy and understanding how people typically work, but it's specifically described as something she learned how to do and she views her brain as being different from ones that work that way (same link). Again, not autistic myself but from what I've seen autistic fans find a lot to relate to in her portrayal. And best of all, this well-rounded and respectful depiction does not show any of these qualities as a lack on her part. There's no more of those kinda ableist comments or "what's wrong with you" jokes that were in the original show. Parker is the way she is, and that allows her to do things differently. She's loved for who she is, and any effort made to fit in is more just to know how so that she can use it to her advantage when she wants to on the job - for her convenience, not others' comfort.

Speaking of loved for who you are.... okay, again, queer Breanna isn't confirmed onscreen yet, and I don't count Word of God as true canon. But I can definitely believe we're building there. Breanna dresses in a very GNC way, and just her dialogue and, I dunno, vibes seem very queer to me. She has a beautiful speech in the Card Game Job about not belonging or being accepted and specifically mentions "the way they love" as one of those things that made her feel like she didn't belong. And that scene is given so much weight and respect. (Not to mention other hints throughout the episode about how much finding her own space meant to her.) Also, the whole theme of feeling rejected and the key for her to begin really flourishing is acceptance for who she is, not any desire for her to be anyone else, is made into another big moment. Yeah, textually that moment is about her feeling like she has to fill Hardison's shoes and worrying about her past, but the themes are there, man.

Themes

I talked a bit about this yesterday, so I'm mostly just going to link to that post, but... this series so far is doing a really good job in my opinion of giving people arcs and having some good themes. Namely the redemption one, from Hardison's speech (which I'm gonna talk a little more about in the next point), and this overall theme of growing up and looking to the future (from above the linked post).

New Characters

Harry and Breanna are fantastic characters. I was kind of worried about Harry being a replacement Nate, but... he really isn't. Sure, he's the older white guy who has an angsty past but it's in a very different way and his personality and relationships with the rest of the crew are correspondingly different. I think the dynamic of a very friendly, cheerful, kind, but still bad guy (as @soundsfaebutokay points out) is a great one to show, and he's got a really cool arc I think of learning to be a better person, and truly understanding Hardison's point about redemption being a process not a goal. His role on the team also has some interesting applications and drawbacks, as @allegorymetaphor talked about. I've kind of grown to think that the show is gradually building up to an eventual Sophie/Harry romance a ways down the line, and I'm actually here for it. Regardless, his relationships with everyone are really interesting.

As for Breanna, first of all and most importantly I love her. Secondly, I think she's got a really interesting story. She's a link to Hardison's past, and provides a really interesting perspective for us as someone younger who has grown up a) looking up to Leverage and b) in a bleaker and more hopeless world. Breanna's not an optimist, and she's not someone who was self-sufficient and unconcerned with the rest of the world at the start, like everyone else. She believes that the world sucks and she wants it to be better, but she doesn't know how to make that happen. She outright says she's desperate and that's why she's working with Leverage. At the same time, Breanna is pretty down on herself and wants to prove herself but gets easily shaken by mistakes or being scolded, which is a stark contrast to Hardison's general self-confidence. There are several times when she starts to have an idea then hesitates to share it, or expects her emotions to be dismissed, or gets really disheartened when she's corrected or rejected, or dwells on her mistakes, or when she is accepted or praised she usually takes a surprised beat and is shy about it (she almost always looks down and away from the person, and her smile is often small or startled). Breanna looks up to the team so much (Parker especially, then probably Eliot) and she wants to prove herself. It's going to be so good to see her grow.

General Vibe

A brief note, but it seems a fitting one to end on. The show keeps it's overall tone and feeling from the original show. The fun, the competency porn, the bad guys and clever plans and happy endings. It's got differences for sure, but the characters are recognizably themselves and the show as a whole is recognizably still Leverage. For the most part they just got the feeling right, and it's really nice.

CONS (no, not that kind)

'Maker and Fixer'

So when I started writing this meta earlier today, I was actually a lot more annoyed by the lack of unique 'maker' skills being shown by Breanna. Basically the only time she tries to use a drone, the very thing she introduced herself as being good at, it breaks instantly. I was concerned about her being relegated into just doing what Hardison did, instead of bringing her own stuff to the table. But the seventh episode eased some of those fears, and the meta I just wrote for someone else asking about Breanna's 'maker' skills as shown this season made me realize there's more nuance than that. I'd still like to have seen more of that from her, but for now the fact that we don't see a lot of 'maker' from her so far seems more like a character decision based in Breanna's insecurities.

Harry definitely gets more 'inside man' usage. His knowledge as a 'fixer' comes in handy several times. Nonetheless, I'm really curious if there are any bigger ways to use it, aside from him just adding in some exposition/insight from time to time. I'm not even entirely sure how much more they can pull from this premise in terms of relevant skills, but I hope there's more and I'd like to see it. Maybe a con built more around him playing a longer role playing his old self, like they tried in the Tower Job? Maybe it's more a matter of him needed distance from that part of his past, being unable to face it without lashing out - in that case it could be a good character growth moment possibly for him to succeed in being Scummy Lawyer again down the line? I dunno.

Episode Twins

This was something small that kind of bothered me a little earlier in the season. It's kind of the negative side to the references, I guess? And I'm not even sure how much it annoys me really, but I just kinda noticed and felt sort of weird about it.

Rollin' on the River has a lot of references/callbacks to the The Wedding Job.

The Tower Job has a lot of references/callbacks to The White Rabbit Job.

The Paranormal Hacktivity Job has a lot of references/callbacks to the Future Job.

I guess I was getting a little concerned that there would be a 'match this episode' situation where almost every new Redemption episode is very reminiscent of an old one. I love the callbacks, but I don't want to see a lack of creativity in this new show, and this worried me for a minute. Especially when it was combined with all three of those episodes dealing with housing issues of some kind. Now, that's a huge concern for a lot of people, and each episode has its own take on a different problem within that huge umbrella, but it still got me worried about a lack of variety in topics/cases.

The rest of the episodes failing to line up so neatly in my head with older episodes helped a lot to ease this one, though. Still, this is my complaining section so I figured I'd express my concerns as they were at the time. Even if I no longer really worry about it much.

Sophie's Stagefright

Yeah, I know this is just a small moment in a single episode, but it annoyed me! Eliot made a bit of a face at Sophie going onstage, but I thought it was just him being annoyed at the general situation. However, they started out with her being awful up there until she realized the poem was relevant to the con - at which point her reading got so much better.

This felt like a complete betrayal of Sophie's beautiful moment at the end of the original show where she got over her trouble with regular acting and played Lady Macbeth beautifully in front of a full theater of audience members. This was part of the con, but only in the sense that it gave her an alibi/place to hide, and I always interpreted it as her genuinely getting over her stagefright problems. It felt like such a beautiful place to end her arc for that show, especially after all her time spent directing.

Now, her difficulty onstage in the Card Game Job was brief and at the very beginning of being up on stage. @rinahale suggested to me that maybe it was a deliberate tactic to draw the guy's attention, and the later skill was simply her shifting focus to make the sonnet easier for Breanna to listen to and interpret, but he seemed more enraptured when she was doing well than otherwise in my opinion and it just doesn't quite sit well with me. My other theory was that maybe she just hasn't been up on stage in a long time, and much like she complaining about being rusty at grifting before the team pushed her into trying, she got nervous for a moment at the very beginning. The problem there is that I think she'd definitely still get involved in theater even when she and Nate were retired. I guess she could've quit after he died, and a year might be long enough to make her doubt herself again, but... still.

I just resent that they even left it ambiguous at all. Sophie's skills should be solid on stage at this point in my opinion.

Thiefsome

...And now we come to my main complaint. This is, by far, the biggest issue I have with the show.

I feel like I should put a disclaimer here that I had my doubts from the beginning about the thiefsome becoming canon onscreen. I thought the famous "the OT3 is safe" tweet could easily just mean that they are all still alive and well, or all still working together, without giving us confirmation of a romantic relationship. Despite this, the general fandom expectations/hopes really got to me, especially with the whole "lock/pick/key" thing. I tried to temper my expectations again when the character descriptions came out and only mentioned Hardison loving Parker, not Eliot, but I still got my hopes up.

The thing is, I was disappointed pretty quickly.

The very first episode told me that in all likelihood we would never see Hardison and Parker and Eliot together in a romantic sense. Oh, there was so much coding. So much hinting. So much in the way of conversations that were about Parker/Hardison's relationship but then Eliot kept getting brought into them. They were portrayed as a unit of three.

But then there was this.

I love all of those scenes of Parker and Hardison being intimate and loving and comfortable with one another and their relationship. I really do. But it didn't escape my notice that there's nothing of the sort with Eliot. If they wanted a canon onscreen thiefsome, it would by far make the most sense to just have it established from the start. But there aren't any scenes where Eliot shares the same kind of physical closeness with either of them like they do each other. Parker and Hardison kiss; he doesn't kiss anyone. They have several clearly romantic conversations when alone; he gets important conversations with both but the sense of it being romantic isn't there.

Establishing Eliot as part of the relationship after Hardison is gone just... doesn't make any sense. It would be more likely to confuse new viewers, to make them wonder if Parker is cheating on Hardison with Eliot, or if they have a Y shaped relationship rather that a triangle. It would be so much clumsier.

Still, up until the Double-Edged-Sword Job I believed the writers might keep it at this level of 'plausible hinting but not quite saying'. There's a lot of great stuff with all of them, and I never expecting making out or whatever anyway; a cheek-kiss was about the height of my hopes to be honest. I mostly just hoped for outright confirmation and, failing that, I was happy enough to have the many hints and implications.

But then Marshal Maria Shipp came along. And I don't really have anything against her as a character - in fact, I think she has interesting story potential and will definitely come back. But the episode framed her fight with Eliot as a sexyfight TM, much like his fight with Mikel back in the day. And then his flirting with her rode the line a little of "he's playing her for the con" and "he's genuinely flirting." The scene where he tells her his real name is particularly iffy, but actually was the one that convinced me he was playing her. Because he seems to be watching her really closely, and to be very concerned about her figuring out who he really is. I am very aware though that I'm doing a lot of work to interpret it the way I want. On surface appearance, Eliot's just flirting with an attractive woman, like he did on the last show. And that's probably the intention, too.

But the real nail in the coffin for me was when Sophie compared herself and Nate to Eliot and Maria. That was a genuine scene, not the continuation of the teasing from before. And Sophie is the one whose insight into people is always, always trustworthy. She is family to the thiefsome. For this to make any sense, either Eliot/Parker/Hardison isn't a thing, or they are and Sophie doesn't know - and I can't imagine why in the hell she wouldn't know.

Any argument to make them still canon leaves me unsatisfied. If she knows and they haven't admitted it to her - why wouldn't they, after all this time? Why would she not have picked up on it even without an outright announcement? Some people suggested they wouldn't admit it because they thought Nate would be weird about it, but that doesn't seem any more in character to me than the other possibilities. In fact, the only option that doesn't go against my understanding of these people and their observational abilities/the close relationship they share.... is that the thiefsome is not a thing.

And furthermore, the implication of this conversation - especially the way it ended, with Eliot stomping off looking embarrassed while Sophie smiled knowingly - is that Eliot will get into another relationship onscreen. Maybe not a full-blown romantic relationship. But the Maria Shipp tension is going to be resolved somehow, and at this point I'm half-expecting a hook-up simply because of Sophie's reaction and how much I trust her judgement of such things. Even if she's letting her grief cloud her usual perceptiveness... it feels iffy.

It just kinda feels like I wasn't even allowed to keep my "interpret these hints/maybe they are" thiefsome that I expected after the first couple episodes convinced me we wouldn't get outright confirmation. (I mean, I will anyway, and I love the hints and allusions regardless.) And while I'm definitely not the kind of fan who is dependent on canon for my ships, and still enjoy all their interactions/will keep right on headcanoning them all in a relationship, it's just.... a bummer.

Feels like a real cop-out. Like the hints of Breanna being queer are enough to meet their quota and they won't try anything 'risky' like a poly relationship. I dunno. It's annoying.

That's the end of the list! Again, overall I love the new show a lot and have few complaints.

#leverage #leverage redemption #leverage spoilers #leverage meta #my meta #this turned into a BIG ol ramble #i planned to write like a couple of sentences for each point but noooo

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spade-riddles · 3 years

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Submission: Adjusting expectations

Okay, guys. Wading in here where it’s possible no-one wants me, but … here goes.

We - Kaylors - are in a hard place right now. People feel hurt, they feel hopeless. They feel like they were led on by the likes of Spade. I’m not here to invalidate any of the feelings that come from seeing Karlie and Taylor play out this charade.

But I think we (collectively, as a fandom) need to take a breath and ask if any of this is really as bad or unfixable as we think it is. Because, for me, the recent stunting is hard to stomach but not truly surprising. On some level this is how I expected Karlie and Taylor to handle both the birth of the baby and the launch of the rerecorded albums. As much I wanted to believe in the idea of spring breaking loose and bringing with it a fervent revolution … I could see the pieces still in play on the board and I doubted it was coming.

I think the problem is that there was a split between the optimist and pragmatist sides of the fandom, over the last year or so. To be clear - I’m not judging the optimist side of the fandom. Not at all. Taylor has pulled wildcard moves before, and emotions run so high in all this, especially with a baby involved now, that I don’t blame people for wanting to believe the best. But it reached a stage where some of the things people were trying to talk themselves into were just wildly unrealistic. And when that happens, of course you’re going to get hurt. It’s inevitable.

But let’s really look at this for a second. We should have known that neither Karlie nor Taylor was going to be shaving her beard in March. Ditching Jerk right after or just before the birth would have been too soon for Karlie. It’s not unusual for a celeb marriage to fizzle out within a year of the birth, but before the baby even arrives? That would be weird, and would draw attention just when it seems Kaylor don’t want it. They just had a baby. That’s an adjustment in itself, and Karlie is suffering enough social media hate on top of that. I wouldn’t blame her for just wanting to take a break and lie low during this difficult time. And unfortunately, for Karlie, that means maintaining the status quo of the situation she put herself in with Jerk. She may be doing the bare minimum to maintain it, but if she wants to avoid attention, she has to make it seem like everything between her and her “husband” is normal. And that she’s trying to make it work, which I believe will be important later. Good people try to make it work, even in bad relationships.

Toe wasn’t going anywhere either. Taylor had relied on him so heavily during the promotion of Folklore, with the William Bowery narrative, that she was almost backed into a corner. She had to give some allusion to his air quotes “creative input” and their so-called happy relationship, or her failure to do so would have become the story and overshadowed her night. The headlines would have either been break-up speculation or complaints that she didn’t give him his due. We think the cutesy coverage after she named him in her acceptance speech was bad, but negative headlines have a far longer shelf life and can take on a life of their own. They would have been worse. Whatever we might think of Taylor’s actions, Folklore is one of her best albums and she deserved to have her night.

So, on to the announcement of the birth. This is a tricky one, and again, I completely understand why people reacted so badly against it. It was everything we as a fandom said we didn’t want. It was Jerk using the baby for personal good PR. But I have to be honest here. I always thought we were kidding ourselves believing he would NEVER be seen with the baby or implied to be the father. I do believe Karlie is doing her damnedest to minimize the digital footprint of his involvement and keep her actual baby out of it. But he was always going to get to bask in the glow of playing daddy for a while. It’s the trade off Kaylor made when they used him to shore up their closet.

This is also why I increasingly suspect the timing of the announcement got the green light from Kaylor too. If Jerk was always going to be assumed to be the father of Karlie’s baby, then there was always going to have to be a birth announcement that incorporated him somehow - unless the girls were ready to answer awkward questions, and it doesn’t seem like we’re there yet. So the best way to minimize the damage is to have his moment of glory overshadowed by a bigger win for Taylor. It worked pretty well actually. Even on Kaylor blogs the stunt was mostly buried by Taylor content.

I know a lot of fans feel gaslit by all the hints, but I do think there’s a possibility Taylor really didn’t grasp how hurt Kaylors would be. From her perspective, she “fed” fans three times over that night. She gave us a beautiful performance, a gorgeous red carpet moment, and a win to celebrate. I think it’s possible she really didn’t realize the double whammy of stunting that night would make it all feel worthless for many.

Taylor is in an awkward position. As a consequence of Kaylor retreating into the closet, the support base for them has shrunk. (When I use the words “Kaylor fandom”, I refer to this support base.) I would say Kaylor fandom consists of two parts. There is a silent portion, who observe events and comment anonymously, but don’t say anything “on main”. And then there are the small corps of true believers, who think Karlie and Taylor are still together and the baby is theirs. This latter group do most of the actual talking about Kaylor, but they tend to be pretty battle-hardened. They’ve been around for years, they never believe any of the stunts and their capacity to be hurt by them is, as a result, pretty limited. These Kaylors criticize sometimes, but they tend to fall back in line eventually and mostly adopt a “let’s wait and see how this all shakes out” approach. The problem is that I would say these “chilled” Kaylors are the minority. For their own sanity they curate their blog experience and often don’t post the more negative anons they get. Which is fine, but if you were looking at it from the outside, I could see how it might create an impression that the fandom as a whole can roll with the punches. And for a lot of the silent majority, that’s not the case.

But again, I can see how Taylor might not necessarily know that. She went quiet after the Grammys, when I might have expected more celebratory posts from her. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t expect the backlash. I’m especially noticing a backlash against her for allowing Karlie to take so many hits while her own reputation has never been better. And I can’t defend her on that one, except to say I hope she has a plan. But I understand where people are coming from when they say the songs aren’t enough and actions speak louder than words. It’s tough to watch.

Still, we’re in a position we should realistically have been able to see coming. We should have known Jerk wasn’t going to be out of the picture immediately after the birth. This is one of those things nobody likes, but maybe we all just have to be patient on. I don’t see Karlie busting out of the closet to admit her marriage was a fake, or testifying to the FBI. I think she’ll just let her marriage quietly fall apart, as many real marriages did during the pandemic. And for that to work, she needs to make it look like didn’t throw away a family unit lightly. Hence the “I tried” post, the social media break, and the suggestions of spending time with Jerk’s family. All of this can be spun later into a narrative of Karlie having tried to make it work, only to never really be accepted. The hate online affected her mental health and she gradually realized how unhappy she’d become and decided she needed to break free and find her old self again for her baby’s sake. This is the most likely narrative for Karlie’s freedom and it’s one that could work - but it’s going to take time to unfold. Personally, I’m giving it a year. If we don’t see a separation by then, and definitive moves to a reunited Kaylor, I’ll be bowing out. I’ll still know what I believe the truth to be, but I won’t see the need to devote my energy to defending it. ,

Meanwhile, the masters rerecords are about to be released, and Taylor has invested a lot in their success. Because of this, I can’t envision her coming out until at least the big three (Fearless, 1989, and Red) have dropped. She might drop hints, but I don’t expect anything earth-shattering. Even the order of the album releases seems to confirm this. She’s breaking out the big guns first.

I’ve seen people speculate that because Rep can’t be rerecorded until 2022, Taylor will hold off on any coming out until then. And I’m not so sure of that. Yes, people listening to the album for clues would give Scott and Scooter money, but if we’re being honest, a fair amount of people are probably listening to those albums already, regardless of the drama. Those sleazeballs are profiting from Rep, full stop. But if Taylor profits more, from her bigger albums, she still wins. And she can still put out a Taylor’s version of Rep with vault tracks and collabs, to seduce people away from the Big Machine version in early 2022. Honestly, I think there’s a good chance Taylor would consider this is a worthwhile trade-off anyway, if it meant she got to live a more open life with Karlie - and most crucially, begin to repair Karlie’s reputation. As children get older and the world begins to leave the pandemic behind, it becomes harder to live behind closed doors. I guess we’ll find out how Taylor finds the reality of such a life, and what she considers worth sacrificing to step away from it.

All this to say: I can’t predict the future more than anyone else, but I don’t think the situation we’re in now is irreparable, and if we’re being really objective, I don’t think it’s even surprising. I do think Taylor should give us something, if she wants to keep us around. No-one can live on a complete absence of hope, and as I’ve stated, letting the fandom dwindle to this extent has its own dangers. But I think we also need to keep our time frames realistic, even if it means rejecting lifelines like the Spade riddles. We shouldn’t expect Karlie to be free of Jerk for around a year, and we shouldn’t expect Taylor to do anything much beyond general music promo until at least the big three have dropped. Sucks to say it, I know. But at least this way we won’t be disappointed, and if Kaylor do pull a wild card and move towards freedom, we can be pleasantly surprised.

Just my two cents.

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Well written and fair arguments on our reactions and expectations. I had typed up more, but I will let others post their comments before I chime in.

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

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Alright, chapter 133 of SnK!

I’ve got a few things I want to talk about here.

One of the things that always strikes me about Levi as a character, indeed, one of his defining character traits, is his coolness under pressure. His calm demeanor, no matter the circumstances. One of the interesting things to go into is WHY Levi is like this.

We see it particularly exemplified in this chapter, I think, and there’s a few examples. For one, they’ve all just lost Hange as their friend and Commander, and this loss particularly impacts and affects Levi, since he was closer with Hange than any of them. But rather than allowing his grief to consume and paralyze him, Levi immediately begins trying to contribute when Armin says he wants to go over the plan, bringing up Hange’s theory about Zeke and how killing him might stop the Rumbling, etc... Then Eren transports them to Paths, and everyone reacts with shock and awe, except Levi, who’s expression is duly unimpressed and unsurprised. We see this from Levi throughout the series, of course. Situations that present themselves, new and frightening circumstances which throw everyone for a loop and send people into panic, Levi reacts to with calm collectedness, a distinct LACK of surprise or fear. He really does stand in sharp contrast with everyone else in this situation. Everyone there is a seasoned war veteran, at this point, they’ve all been through and seen some truly horrific things. But they still react with a kind of frantic uncertainty here. They then begin to plead with Eren, Armin and the rest trying to convince him through any means possible, to stop the Rumbling. They try to bargain with him, show him empathy, make promises, etc... They make their desperation obvious by saying whatever they think will appeal to Eren. Levi is the only one who, I think, is fully honest here. He tells Eren that if he stops now, he’ll let him off with JUST an ass-kicking. Levi doesn’t try to placate Eren, or show him sympathy, or empathy, he doesn’t try to be gentle or handle Eren with kid gloves. He tells him flat out he’s going to beat his ass for what he’s done, but he’ll show him some leniency for stopping by not killing him outright. The thing is, I think Levi’s known from the start of this whole disaster that talking to Eren wasn’t going to work. Everyone else was holding out hope that if they could just speak with Eren, he would stop, that they could convince him through words. But like I talked about in my last post, Levi is someone who’s just seen and experienced too much of life’s brutality and unfairness to blind himself to bleak reality. When the 104th goes running off after Eren appears to them, to try and reach him, Levi just sits down in the sand and has that resigned expression once more, and his expression continues to show a total lack of surprise when Eren puts the 104th back where they started, before they could ever even get close. Levi isn’t surprised, or even dismayed, I don’t think, at Eren’s refusal to talk, because I think he always knew he wouldn’t be willing to. That he wouldn’t be interested in hearing anyone’s pleas or promises. I think Levi always knew Eren was hellbent on this course of action, and it was more or less hopeless, trying to appeal to him. And once again, I have to restate, I think it’s because Levi’s just experienced too much hardship in his life to cling to false hopes. He’s world-weary and in many ways a realist, someone not given to delusion or fancy.

I feel like Levi probably glimpsed this uncompromising, hellish bent in Eren back in Liberio, his mercenary compulsion to follow through on whatever plan he had, which is why Levi was so disgusted by him on the airship back then. He saw a lack of mercy in Eren, and it reminded him of the brutes Levi grew up with in the Underground. Not just a willingness, but a desire to take from others to satisfy himself. It’s why, when they’re all transported back to the plane, while everyone else looks horrified and in shock at Eren’s refusal to talk, Levi looks as unflustered as ever, and states with a matter of fact tone that negotiations are over, before asking Armin what it is they do now. None of this is surprising to Levi.

Levi’s look of despair throughout this final arc continues to strike me as his resignation in the ugliness of humanity and the useless, pointless suffering they inflict on one another. He’s depressed, and disappointed, because everything happening around them is only a confirmation of all the worst things Levi saw and experienced, growing up.

All this ties into another point I want to discuss, which is Levi’s relationship with Jean, actually. I’ve found the relationship between the two of them really interesting since way back in the Uprising arc, when Jean was the most vocal in condemning Levi for his violence, declaring with certainty that he would never kill another person. Jean is disabused of his moralistic superiority not long after that, when he learns first hand the consequences of sticking to ones morals uncompromisingly, nearly losing his life, and forcing Armin to take a life for him. And it’s Jean who we see, again and again from that point on in the series, grappling with and coming to terms with this difficult lesson. We see Jean’s respect for Levi, and his understanding towards Levi, grow greatly, after this incident, and Jean himself having to grow, to change and accept that sacrifices are inevitable if one wishes to protect the things and people they care about. That sometimes even one’s own comfort and moral convictions are necessary sacrifices to achieve those things.

Levi tells everyone that he’ll take care of Zeke, but admits that he’ll need all of their help to get the job done. I feel like this is Levi, once again, asking if all of them are ready and willing to get their hands dirty, just like he did before they raided the Cavern underneath the Church on the Reiss property. He knows he can’t do this job by himself (which is just further testament to Levi’s strength of character, an ability to admit to weakness), but he wants to make sure everyone else is alright with plunging in to a situation in which they’re going to be forced to kill. Jean is the first to answer, telling Levi and all of them that he’s not going to let the sacrifices they’ve already made, the people they’ve killed in order to get where they are, be in vain, and that he’ll do whatever it takes to stop the Rumbling. This shows incredible character growth on Jean’s part. He went from someone who claimed that he would, under no circumstances, take another human life, to someone who declares that he’ll do whatever it takes in order to stop the Rumbling, to achieve a greater good. And I think this growth on Jean’s part ties directly into his relationship with and the influence of Levi. Levi never judged Jean for being uncomfortable with killing, never criticized or scolded him for it. He even told Jean that he couldn’t say, one way or the other whether Jean’s beliefs were right or wrong. That Levi himself didn’t know the answer to that. He never tried to convince Jean of anything. He just told him the truth. That his failure to kill had put the lives of his comrades in danger, including his own, and that it also caused Armin to have to bear the burden of killing another, one which should have been Jean’s own to bear. All of that is absolutely true. And it was really through this lack of judgment on Levi’s part that, I think, Jean was able to grow and expand his own views on killing, and adjust and allow for there to be circumstances in his world view which would justify taking another life. He wasn’t forced by anyone to change his views. He changed them based on experience and through Levi explaining to him that there is no definitive right or wrong answer to be found, and through Levi’s simply being honest with him. He was telling Jean that it comes down to what one is willing to sacrifice in order to protect the things and people they value. And Jean learned about himself that he’s willing and able to sacrifice more than he ever realized.

But it’s still a struggle, and something all of them, even at this point in the story, continue to battle themselves over. We see Connie struggling in particular this chapter, looking anguished over what he had to do back at the port. It’s only Levi who accepts that brutal reality of kill or be killed with a calm understanding, and I think this is probably because, unlike the rest of them, who all had peaceful, probably relatively easy and happy childhoods, without any exposure to violence or real cruelty, Levi, I think it can be safely assumed, probably took his first life while he was still a boy. And doubtless, that was due to desperate circumstances. Levi’s life has been one filled with uncertainty. Growing up in extreme poverty, he never could have known with any certainty where his next meal would come from, or when. Never knew with any certainty whether he could find proper shelter for the night, or a safe place to sleep. Never knew with any certainty whether he would be assaulted, or robbed, or if someone would attempt to take his life. Levi’s life has been one of desperation and a true, unforgiving struggle to simply survive. And so while all of his comrades have seen and experienced the horrors of war with him, none of them can know with the same level of understanding that true kind of desperation of simply trying to live day to day, that kind of awful and overwhelming uncertainty and fear of not knowing if you’ll be alive from one day to the next. It’s those kinds of experiences in life that really separate Levi from the rest of his comrades, and in a lot of ways, isolate him from them. It’s why the extremity of their circumstances and the desperation of their situation in this final arc continually shocks and overwhelms them, but Levi regards it all with his usual, if deeply saddened, calm.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #jean krischtein #snk 133 #meta #thoughts

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justcallmenikki7 · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction To: You Getting Shot

Mafia!Au

Summary: you get shot and the boys handle the situation differently than expected.

Request: Anonymous said:

Mafia bts reaction to their s/o accidently or on purpose getting shot?

Warnings: angsttt, mafia!au, mentions of being shot. Taehyung is a dick in this im sorry, mentions of the boys wanting to murder the person who shot you, fluff, yoongi bloodlust,

W.C.: 2-300 for each member (1.7k)

Notes: Friday I am getting my puppy!!!!

Jin:

“Oh fuck.” Seokjin sighed as he watched you play with the guns that he has laid out on the table in the weapon room.

“What?” You laughed, confused on why your boyfriend is acting as if you are about to hurt yourself or someone. “I know what I am doing.”

Seokjin let out a nervous laugh at your words, cautiously walking up to you. The most feared mafia leader in the world is nervous of his own fiancée that is holding a gun for the first time. Not knowing what a certain switch does, you flicked it, and not knowing that the switch turns off the safety, you pulled back the trigger and a loud, ricocheting sound sounded in the room followed by a loud cry of pain coming from you.

Realizing what just has happened, Seokjin let out a loud curse, rushing towards.

“Oh, fuck!” You screeched, holding onto your thigh, trying to not pass out from the blood that is now covering your hands.

“You’re such an idiot, Jagi!” Seokjin scolded, picking you up bridal style, carrying you out of the room in a hurry to the headquarters doctors’ room.

“Did Noona just shoot herself?” Jungkook asked as Seokjin jogged passed him.

“Possibly,” you answered, doing the best as you could to not break down crying.

Yoongi:

Yoongi was already having a bad day. Having to deal with the new rookies he brought in, getting threats from a gang in the east, and having little to none sleep. It was as if he was ticking time bomb ready to explode at any second.

The last thing he needed was getting a call from the hospital, saying that you were a victim of a crossfire shooting.

So, here he was, sitting in the most uncomfortable chair in the room where you were attached to tubes and wires, the agonizingly beat from the heart monitor mocking him. Tears were streaking down his face, face red and expression heartbroken.

“Hyung,” Namjoon spoke out, knocking on the door softly.

Looking up, Yoongi gave him a death glare, not in the mood to deal with anything. “What do you want, Namjoon?” Yoongi growled out, voice croaky.

“The gang from the east, the one who has been making threats… they’re the ones who shot Y/N.”

To say that Namjoon was scared would be an understatement – from all of the years of knowing Yoongi, Namjoon has never seen the look that Yoongi is showing, which is bloodlust.

Hoseok:

“You’re so stupid!” Hoseok growled out at you, an angry look on his face. “You’re so Goddamn stupid! Why would you do that?” He clutched you closer to him, right hand adding pressure to your shoulder where you got shot at.

A laugh escaped your lips, which earned a glare from Hoseok. “What? You’d think I’d let you get shot by a crazy psychopath named Richie?” wincing at the pain that came from your shoulder, the action did not go unnoticed by your husband who then lessen the pressure he has on the wound.

“Yes! I am supposed to be the one who protects you, not the other way around.”

“You’re such a child,” you grumbled, shaking your head disappointedly.

“How am I the child?”

“Because you’re acting like one, Hope. In this relationship, we protect each other, no matter the consequences.”

“You could have gotten killed!”

“Yeah, and? I’d do it again just to make sure you are safe, because I love you dammit.”

Pulling you up closer to him, Hoseok pressed a kiss to your forehead, eyes closed to keep the tears from falling. Pulling away, he rested his chin on the top of your head, keeping you close to him as possible, body crouched over you in a protective manner. “I love you too, idiot.”

Namjoon:

To say Namjoon was not surprised by the phone call that he got from the maknae would be an understatement. Namjoon knew that once you got into the car with Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung to go to the gun range to practice on your aim, he knew something bad would come out of it – and being right all the time can be exhausting.

“What do you mean she shot herself in the leg?” Namjoon sighed into the phone, pinching his nose from irritation.

“I don’t know, Hyung! We only had our backs turned for five seconds, and then we heard a bang! and next thing we know, Noona was crying and there was blood!”

“You allowed Y/N to hold a gun without any supervision?! You know how clumsy she is! She is worse than me, Jungkook!”

“That is factual, Hyung. But this isn’t our fault!”

“How is this not your fault? You were the ones with her! And my stupid ass allowed her to go with you three.”

“Can you please stop yelling? You’re stressing me out and I am the one driving!”

“You’re the one driving?!”

The sound of the call being disconnected told Namjoon everything.

“I’m going to kill all four of them.” Namjoon swore as he grabbed his coat and keys so he can meet you four at the hospital. “They’re so dead.”

Jimin:

You woke up to the sound of your boyfriend moving around the bedroom, failing at trying to be quiet for your sake. Sitting up, groaning at the pain the shot up your lower body, your movements caught your boyfriends’ attention.

“Jagia, why are up?” Jimin asked concern, sitting down beside you on the bed.

“Because I heard you, why are you up at 3:17 a.m.?” You asked, doing a one over on him. Jimin was wearing all black, his gun tucked into his pants and knife tucked into its holster on his calf. It was now silent confirmation that Jimin was going to kill the gunman who shot you at the drug store just a few days ago. “You’re going to kill him…” you trailed off.

“I am, he deserves it. He shot you, he deserves the consequences.” Jimin spoke harshly, the whole incident making him angrier by the second.

“Why can’t you let the cops handle it? they’ve already tracked him down, you don’t need to do anything else.”

Sighing, Jimin ran his hands over his face. Taking your hand into his, he brought your hand up to his face, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “I know you don’t want me too, but I am still going to do it. I do not agree with our justice system, and I believe that they’ll let him walk and he’ll do it again. This will give me a sense of peace and knowing that he is gone will give me some sort of justice.”

Knowing that you cannot do anything else, and Jimin with his mind already set, it is a losing battle for you. Nodding your head reluctantly, you squeezed his hand. “I love you, be safe okay? Don’t be back too late, Jiminie.”

“I love you too, Jagi.”

Taehyung:

Ever since you got shot, your boyfriend Taehyung has been distant from you. His actions have been bringing you more pain than the actual wound you got. Instead of taking care of you, the maids that he has have been the ones taking care of you. What makes you feel even more shitty is that he has not even came to check up on you once, and it has been a week since your accident.

Deciding that enough is enough when he decided to ignore your fifth call of the day, you ignored the protests from the maids and got up. Realizing that they cannot stop you, they decided to help you get dressed into a pair of sweats and a hoodie and shoes. Helping you down the stairs, Jungkook carried you out to the car, listening to your demands about taking you to the headquarters where Taehyung is at. Once you got to the headquarters, Jungkook helped you to your boyfriend’s office, giving you an encouraging smile before you knocked on the double doors. Hearing footsteps come your way; you began to feel nervous about the meeting with your boyfriend. When Taehyung opened the door, he held an irritated look.

“What are you doing out of bed? You shouldn’t be moving, doctors’ orders.” Your boyfriend scolded you, making you feel smaller than him.

“I wanted to see you,” you stated strongly.

“I’m busy right now, have Jungkook take you home.”

“Why are you acting like this?” You asked irritated, feeling hurt by your boyfriends’ words. “You haven’t even seen me this whole time, not once checking up on me. Do you not care?” Your voice shook at the end, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Please, Y/N, go home and stay in bed. It is not good for you to be out and about. I’ll see you when I get home.” And at that, he closed the door, leaving you all alone once again.

Jungkook:

“Jungkook, I don’t need all of these blankets.” You explained to your boyfriend who is wrapping you up in five blankets.

“Yes, you do. Doctor said that you need to be on bed rest for two weeks due to your wound, so I am going to make sure you are comfortable because you will be here for a while.” Jungkook spoke out, ignoring your words.

“I will be just fine in our bed where there is a TV and comfy bed. I don’t want to be on the couch for the next 14 days. I want to be in our bed.”

Looking up at you, bewildered at your statement, he stomped his foot like a child. “Why didn’t you just say that fifteen minutes ago?” He shouted exasperatedly; hands thrown up in the air.

“Well, if you would’ve just listened to me the first time, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“I thought I was being a good boyfriend, but now it looks like I’ve failed once again.”

“Stop being a baby and take me up to our room so we can cuddle before you go and hunt down that man who shot me, okay? Please?”

Not needing to say anymore, Jungkook picked you up bridal style, running down the hall like a mad man, excited at the thought of cuddles.

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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years

Text

Where Hope is Left So Incomplete

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Characters: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Melissa McCall, Chris Argent, Noah Stilinski, McCall Pack

Rating: T

Summary: Derek has one hand on the wheel and with the other he’s calling the hospital, speaking fast, leaving out any details that might raise suspicion. A werewolf at the wheel is definitely faster than an ambulance, but it’s still taking far too long. Scott is literally holding his friend together, he can hear Stiles’ heartbeat growing weaker with every passing minute, and despite his best efforts there’s blood leaking everywhere. “Derek,” Scott says as they squeal around another curve, “Derek I think he’s dying.”

A/N: This fic takes place maybe a year or two after the events of "Wolves of War." It assumes Isaac returned at some point, Stiles never went back to the FBI, Derek stuck around, and the war against supernaturals continues. Title taken from "Running With the Wolves" by Aurora.

Read on AO3

It’s an ambush. Or an assassination, Scott’s not sure which. He lets out a roar, eyes blazing, fangs bared, as steel bites deeply into his flesh. Turning he catches a hunter directly in the chest with his claws and hurls him through the air. The gash stings, blood dripping down his arm, swirling through dirt and sweat and turning his skin into a macabre painting. At least the knife is free of wolfsbane, the familiar burn is missing from his wounds.

His head is throbbing, it feels like his brain is being squeezed by a vice and it’s messing with his ability to focus, to hear, to sense where everyone else is. They’ve got some kind of device, an upgrade of the ones the Argents used to use and damn is it working.

He rips one of the devices from the ground and hurls it against a tree feeling some satisfaction when it smashes into a thousand pieces against the trunk. It gives him enough relief to take a beat and assess their situation; Derek is thrashing another guy nearby, and from the sound of things, he’s winning. What’s become suspiciously absent are Stiles’ yells. Scanning the woods he can’t make out his friend’s gangly form anywhere. Hopefully that means Stiles has done the smart thing and tucked himself away somewhere that the hunters can’t find him.

Monroe’s lackeys don’t care that Stiles is human, they’re just as happy to take him out as any of the rest of the McCall pack and they’ve made that perfectly clear on more than one occasion. Scott tries not to think about the fact that Chris needed surgery on his back last month for an injury he’d received at the hands of a hunter. Or that they tried to take Lydia six months ago and were only stopped by Derek’s quick thinking.

They’re not supposed to be here. The pack has a perimeter and they’ve been diligent about not letting anyone through. It’s been over a year since anyone tried to attack them on their own soil. This is their turf, they’ve staked their claim. It’s a safe space, a haven, a promise of home and family and respite. At least it was. Until tonight.

Scott tries not to think about what it means that this group has gotten bold enough to sneak into the preserve in the dead of night. Tries not to think what would have happened if it were some of his younger charges who’d been caught unaware on patrol. As it is he and Derek are having a hard time holding them off.

His moment to plan is over as he’s assaulted again by a rather beefy hunter, one who is holding a knife so large it may as well be a sword. Scott lets out another roar, claws slashing mercilessly.

It’s then he hears a familiar yell and realizes that Stiles has not gone into hiding as directed, but has instead attempted to get the drop on the hunters. And of course he is armed with absolutely nothing but his trusty baseball bat, although given that he has the element of surprise, it’s working surprisingly well.

He drops two hunters in one, fell swoop and then looks up at Scott with a triumphant grin. “I knew this would come in handy someday!” he yells, raising the bat high.

Scott sends him a grin back. It’s a mistake, a horribly foolish mistake he realizes later. If he hadn’t been so caught up in the moment, if he hadn’t been so damn cocky about their ability to hold the line, what happened next wouldn’t have come to pass.

There’s a terrible, high pitched whine that has him clapping his hands over his ears in pain, and then the world explodes.

Scott feels his feet briefly leave the ground and then it comes rushing up to meet him again, knocking all the air from his lungs. He rolls onto his back, head spinning, as he tries to get a handle on himself.

Air slowly leaks back into his chest and he heaves a breath, pushing himself up onto his elbow. He can see Derek doing the same, several feet from him, shaking his own head as if he can’t quite remember what’s going on.

“You okay?” Scott chokes out.

“Yeah,” Derek says, though his face is bloody and Scott can see some shrapnel has torn through his shirt.

Scott is pretty sure he’s broken a few ribs himself, he can feel them grating in his chest as he continues to suck in air, but everything else seems to be intact. The hunters…not so much. There are several bodies parts lying around and considering his and Derek’s are still attached, it seems the hunters were felled by their own weapons. “What the hell was that?” he asks, attempting to get up.

“Some kind of bomb,” Derek says, getting to his own feet and scanning the area. “We need to get out of here.”

There’s a whimper, a pathetic, horrible, pained whimper and Scott comes fully back to himself because he knows, he knows without even looking who that agonized, awful sound is coming from. “Stiles!” he cries, spotting him sprawled and broken at the base of a large boulder.

He stumbles toward his friend, his own body perhaps more injured than he initially thought, and falls to his knees, eyes widening in shock and horror.

Stiles’ eyes are closed and his left leg lies at an awkward angle. Scott knows without even touching it that it’s broken, maybe in more than one place. But worse, so much worse, is the blood pouring out of Stiles’ abdomen. His shirt has gone dark with it and there’s already a puddle forming on the ground next to him.

“Stiles,” Scott whispers placing his hands over the wound, pressing down, trying with all his might to keep Stiles’ life from flowing out of him.

Stiles lets out a pained cry at the pressure and without even thinking Scott begins to pull, thick ropes of dark pain swirling under his skin.

“Scott,” Derek drops beside him, eyes still scanning the area for danger. “Scott we need to get him out of here.”

“We can’t move him,” Scott’s voice cracks in panic, but even in the midst of all this he still has a nurse for a mother and her words come tumbling out now. “He could have a spinal injury.”

“It’s not going to matter if he has a broken spine if we all die out here,” Derek says urgently.

He’s right, of course he’s right, but Scott is having a really hard time formulating any sort of plan right now. You think he’d be used to it, watching those he loves suffer for his choices, but he isn’t. It never gets any better, it just makes the hole inside his chest larger and larger until it feels like it will swallow him—

“Scott!”

Derek’s sharp tone brings Scott back to himself and he takes a shaky breath, trying to formulate a plan. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re right. We have to get him out of here.”

His whole body is screaming at him in pain but he manages to get Stiles into his arms. “You want me to take him?” Derek asks.

His own face is pale and he’s limping, clearly in no better shape than Scott. “I’ve got him,” Scott says firmly, even though his vision is swimming a little bit and his ribs are burning inside his chest.

Stiles lets out another whimper and Scott shifts him until his fingers find the bare flesh of Stiles’ arm and he resumes sucking pain from him as fast as he can.

It’s an endless trek to the car for all of them. Derek appears to be struggling, he’s clearly more hurt than he’s let on, they have all just been blown to bits after all. And Scott…Scott’s only focus is on Stiles and making sure that he gets jostled as little as possible as they stumble across the forest floor.

He hasn’t woken up or said anything, just letting out an occasional moan or gasp of pain and it’s beyond unnerving that the usually chatty Stiles has gone silent. Only his noisy breaths confirm that he’s still alive as they stumble along over the uneven ground.

By the time they reach the car Derek looks a little better, but Stiles has gone so pale it’s taking Scott back to the nogitsune days and it terrifies him. “How’s he doing?” Derek asks as he hits the gas.

“Drive fast,” is all Scott can say as he uses one hand to keep pressure on the wound and the other to sap pain from Stiles as fast as he can manage.

Derek has one hand on the wheel and with the other he’s calling the hospital, speaking fast, leaving out any details that might raise suspicion. A werewolf at the wheel is definitely faster than an ambulance, but it’s still taking far too long. Scott is literally holding his friend together, he can hear Stiles’ heartbeat growing weaker with every passing minute, and despite his best efforts there’s blood leaking everywhere. “Derek,” Scott says as they squeal around another curve, “Derek I think he’s dying.”

The wounds in Stiles’ abdomen are so eerily similar to Allison’s and Scott feels panic rise up in him again. He cannot lose someone again. He literally can’t survive it. Not this time. Not Stiles.

Derek spares a half second to glance back and then presses the pedal all the way to the floor. “Just hold on.”

“Derek, I think…I don’t know…should I—“ Scott trips over his own words, panic making them lie heavy in his throat. “Derek I can’t lose him.”

“I know,” Derek says. “I know, just hang on.”

“I think I…should I give him the bite?”

Even through the tears in his eyes he sees Derek stiffen in his seat. “Scott…”

It’s not something Stiles has ever wanted, something he’s flat out turned it down on more than one occasion. Stiles is not a supernatural. He’s just Stiles. He doesn’t need claws or fangs and he doesn’t want them. But Scott…Scott doesn’t want a world without Stiles in it.

“Derek,” Scott says urgently. He needs some guidance here. He needs Derek to tell him what to do.

“No.”

The weak, raspy response isn’t from Derek and Scott’s eyes drop downward to find Stiles staring up at him, eyes glazed with pain. “No I don’t—I don’t want it,” he rasps, sucking in a rattling breath.

“Stiles we may not have a choice,” Scott tells him, voice breaking.

“There’s alway….a choice.” Stiles’ eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a guttural moan. Blood bubbles from his lips.“Scott…Scott it hurts.”

“I know, I know it does,” Scott squeezes his arm more tightly and pulls harder, faster, drawing pain like a river through his own veins.

He can feel the wounds on his back and arms, the ones that had started to knit back together, begin to reopen, blood trickling across his skin, but he doesn’t stop, not even when he begins to gasp for air himself, breath coming in short pants as the pain goes all the way to his core. It’s like every nerve ending is on fire but he doesn’t stop, not for anything. Stiles doesn’t deserve to be in pain.

“Scott.”

His name is a terrified whimper and it brings tears to Scott’s eyes. “I’m right here Stiles. You’re going to be okay, I promise.”

Stiles’ eyes slide closed and his jaw goes slack. Scott hears his heartbeat stutter, then sluggishly let out another beat, as if it’s a candle trying to withstand a hurricane. “Derek!” Scott yells terror filling the car.

“We’re here!”

They screech into the parking lot and Derek is out of the car practically before he’s stopped it, ripping open the door so that it likely won’t ever close right again, and helping Scott pull Stiles from the car. If Scott had half a thought to spare he’d think about how many times they’ve lived through this exact moment, a mad dash to the hospital, an anxious wait for results, answers, hope.

But as it is he can hardly think anymore because all that matters is Stiles and drawing as much of his pain into himself as he possibly can.

“We need help!” Derek yells as they burst through the doors and within seconds Stiles is on a gurney and being pulled toward the ER. Scott runs alongside him, hand still glued to Stiles’ bloody, limp arm.

“You need to stay here,” one of the nurses tells him. Her name’s Claire, Scott somehow remembers. She’s in his mom’s book club. “Let him go. We’ve got him Scott.”

But he can’t. He can’t let his best friend go through those doors. Because if he does…that might be the last time he ever sees him.

“Scott!” Derek is right in his face, grabbing onto his arm and wrenching it away from Stiles because apparently Derek has the presence of mind not to lose his shit right here in the hospital emergency room.

Scott pulls away from him and reels back a bit, leaning against the wall, panting, eyes glued to the doors they’ve just pushed Stiles through. “Scott?” Derek is back in his face, eyes worried. “Scott are you okay?”

Scott can’t answer, his body has gone oddly numb, his chest tight. Black spots dance in front of his eyes and he can’t move, can barely even breathe. “Scott how much of his pain did you take?” Dereks asks, worry increasing by the second.

Scott looks at him vacantly. “All of it.”

And then he’s falling, Derek’s arms catching him as he floats away into nothing.

When he wakes up he feels weak. He can’t even remember the last time he’s felt like this. It’s like every bit of strength has been sapped from his body. He can barely even lift his eyelids, let alone a limb. Everything aches and throbs as if he’s burning up with fever or been hit by a truck.

He lets out a half a grunt as he forces his eyes open. “Easy,” Derek says and after a moment Scott’s vision clears enough to make out the other wolf sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed. He’s in a hospital room hooked up to several monitors, the cheap sheets scratching against his skin.

“Stiles?” Scott asks, his voice a broken whisper.

Derek shakes his head and Scott’s heart does an unpleasant lurch. “He’s in surgery. It’s…they’re still working on him,” Derek says heavily.

Scott looks up at the ceiling and tries to breathe, tries to stop the horrible sense of dread bubbling in his stomach. “What happened?” he finally manages.

“You almost killed yourself,” Derek says it mildly, in that annoyingly superior way he does when he thinks you’ve done something really stupid that he would never, ever stoop to do. But Scott can sense his restless fear under the surface, masked by sarcasm and biting comments. “You’re lucky you’re an alpha and Stiles is just a human. You know better than to take that much pain. You drained yourself dry. They had to restart your heart and give you stitches. You literally had to be sewn back together Scott.”

“I didn’t want him to be in pain,” Scott says, wincing as he tries to get into a more upright position. It’s futile, his limbs refuse to cooperate.

“Right because two dead pack members is so much better than one.” Derek glares at him. “It’s going to take you a week to recover from this. You couldn’t wolf out right now even if it was a lunar eclipse on a full moon.”

Scott sighs. He knows Derek is right, but it doesn’t change anything. “He shouldn’t even be a part of all this.”

“Yeah well, he may not be anymore.” Scott looks up and finds a glimmer of darkness passing over Derek’s face. For all his bravado and stoicism, Derek has a soft spot for Stiles. They all do. And losing him…it would be like losing the sun.

There’s a buzzing next to him and he turns his head enough to see his phone light up. “Oh yeah, Lydia called. About forty-five times,” Derek says.

Scott bites back a groan and through sheer force of will pulls himself upward, reaching for the phone. Derek under-exaggerated. He has over a hundred text messages from Lydia, Malia, Chris, Isaac, Liam…pretty much every single member of the pack. Plus his voicemail is full and there’s a backlog of missed calls. Most of those are also from Lydia.

“She’s on her way,” Derek says, holding up his own phone. “She calls for updates every ten minutes.”

Lydia’s at school. Safe. Away from all this. Or at least she was.

“That’s Lydia,” Scott says, stifling a groan as he reaches for his pants.

“Whoa, hey, what are you doing?” Derek gets out of his chair, hand outstretched to stop him.

“I need to check on Stiles,” Scott says.

“Um, hell no,” Derek says firmly, pushing him back against the pillows. “You basically died. Again. You need to stay right here.”

His mom chooses that moment to enter and Scott feels immediate worry. “Mom, Stiles, is he—“

“Still in surgery,” she says, her face tight and drawn. “How are you feeling? And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ crap. I swear if you were still a kid I would ground you forever for doing this to me again.”

But despite the sharpness of her words, her hands smooth his bedsheets, fussing with them and his IV line until she’s satisfied everything is in its place. “I’m sorry,” Scott says.

She sighs and squeezes his arm gently. “I know you are. I know you all are.”

Scott swings his eyes back to Derek. “The perimeter?”

“Isaac and Malia went to check it out. Chris is going to meet them,” Derek says. “He’ll make sure no one else gets hurt.”

For the first time all night Scott feels relief. If Chris is there, the rest of the pack is safe for now. He’ll prevent anyone else from from getting blown up or shot or stabbed. “I need to get back out there.”

“What you need,” Melissa corrects him, tucking the blankets a little tighter as if that will somehow keep him down, “is to rest. All of you,” she says, shooting a pointed look at Derek that says she is not, and has never been, fooled by his bravado. “Stiles is going to need you here when he wakes up.”

Scott does feel exhausted. It’s as if all the strength has disappeared and even his bones feel bruised.

“Where’s the Sheriff?” Scott asks, thinking guiltily of the continued agony they put that man through.

“He’s in the waiting room,” Melissa says.

Derek stands immediately. “I’ll go sit with him.”

Scott nods his thanks. The sheriff is pack. You don’t let family sit alone through something like this.

“I have to go,” Melissa tells him. “But you stay put all right? None of that disappearing from the hospital or anything. Let someone else handle it for a change.”

He equal parts wants to protest that he doesn’t do that…and do that very thing. But right now his body feels glued to the bed. “Mom, I’m sorry,” he says again, because he is. So sorry. For everything.

She runs a gentle hand through his hair. “It’s not your fault. Get some rest.”

He’s sure he won’t be able to sleep but it’s possible she’s slipped a sedative into his IV because when he opens his eyes again he can tell several hours have passed and now Liam is at the foot of his bed. “Hey man,” he says worriedly as Scott opens his eyes. “You okay?”

Better maybe, okay definitely not. His body feels less leaden and the itching in his wounds tells him they’re finally starting to knit back together. “I’m fine,” Scott says, this time managing to get himself into an upright position that somewhat resembles sitting, although it fucking hurts to do it. “Any word on Stiles?”

Liam shakes his head and Scott feels another spike of fear. It’s been too long, way too long. Scott grits his teeth and slides his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring his shaking limbs and throbbing head. “Oh, I—“ Liam blocks his path and looks at him sheepishly. “Derek says I’m not supposed to let you leave.”

“I’m your alpha,” Scott says, pulling a card he rarely does. He’s not here to order people around and make them do things they don’t want to. “You listen to me, not Derek.”

“Yeah, I know,” Liam says, not moving. “But uh, your mom also told me not to let you move and…” he leans close, his voice low, eyes darting to the door, “I’m way more scared of her than I am of you.”

He’s an alpha werewolf and a grown adult, but apparently his mother stills runs his life. Perfect. Normally he’d ignore Liam and leave anyway, but he’s pretty sure a stiff breeze could knock him over right now so if it comes to a fight, Liam is definitely going to win.

The door to his room opens and Chris comes in looking battle weary. “Is everyone all right?” Scott asks immediately.

“Everyone’s fine. We’ve got guards all around the perimeter, human and supernatural. No one’s getting through the line again tonight,” Chris says. “We swept the whole area and didn’t find any more devices. I left Malia and Isaac out there. Theo was on his way too.”

Scott feels a modicum of relief. “Thank you,” he says, throat thick with grief and fear.

Chris nods to Liam. “Give us a minute?”

Liam heads out the door looking relieved. It must not be super fun to be on babysitting duty. How are you?” Chris asks, stepping closer. “Heard you did a number on yourself.”

Scott finds he can’t speak, tears rising up to the surface. He’s tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of losing. Tired of always being one step behind Monroe and her minions. Tired of worrying day and night that if he makes one wrong move he’ll lose everyone he loves. Tired of being the one everyone turns to for answers, when he clearly doesn’t have any.

And now his best friend, a person who deserves more than anything to be safe and happy, is dying somewhere in this hospital and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He folds, crumbling in on himself, hot tear stinging his eyes. Arms come around him, pulling him in for a tight hug, holding him like he’s a child again. “This is not your fault,” Chris says softly. “None of this is your fault.”

But it is. It all is.

Scott finds himself clutching at Chris’ jacket, fingers clinging to the rough fabric, desperately needing something to hold onto. “I can’t lose him,” he manages to choke out.

Chris tightens his hold. “Stiles is a fighter. He may not be supernatural, but he’s overcome worse than this. You have to hold onto that.”

He wants to. God he wants to believe that everything is going to be all right. But things seem so bleak and hopeless. They’ve been fighting for so long and all they’ve got to show for it is battle weary fighters, some of them little more than kids, and a mountain of loss.

Chris continues to speak, cutting through Scott’s strife and self pity. “You’re in the middle of a war. And I know how hopeless it seems. But you have right on your side. You have faith. You have love. All the other side has is fear. That’s a powerful motivator; but love, that’s a lot stronger. That’s an anchor. You know that. Allison knew that. Stiles knows that. So hold on. Hold on and rise up stronger to fight again.”

Scott takes a few shaky breaths and finally pulls away. Chris puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently. “You good?”

Scott nods and swipes at his face, wiping away the moisture there. The door opens and his mom walks in. “Oh, hey Chris,” she says in surprise. Her eyes find Scott. “Stiles is out of surgery.”

Scott sits up straighter. “Is he…?”

“Broken femur, three broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, internal organ damage, and a hell of a lot of blood loss,” she says frankly. “It would be easier to list things that weren’t damaged.”

“Is he…” Scott swallows, afraid of the answer, “Is he going to be all right?”

“They’ve got him in ICU. It’s touch and go right now.”

“Can I see him?”

Melissa’s eyes shift briefly to Chris and then back to Scott. “Honey they haven’t even let his dad go up yet. And you aren’t back to one hundred percent yet either.”

Waiting is agony. Scott’s only comfort over the next few days is that Derek frequently sneaks up to ICU and back out again giving them essentially the same report every time; “He looks like a ghost. He’s still breathing. His heart is still beating.”

People drift in and out of his hospital room, Lydia, Theo, Liam, Malia, Isaac, Corey, Mason, all of them stuck in some sort of zombie limbo, unable to find any light or joy in the situation.

Scott still hasn’t seen Noah. According to Derek he hasn’t left Stiles’ side, not a surprise to any of them.

Scott feels himself improve physically day by day, but emotionally he’s a wreck. With every passing hour he feels the noose of guilt pull tighter around his neck. Even after his mom finally relents and gets him discharged, (at least this time they don’t have to explain his miraculous healing, there hasn’t been any) he stays at the hospital, wearing holes in the waiting room floor along with the rest of the pack.

He’s beyond grateful to Chris who has completely taken charge of their refugees, controlling the border, checking in with other packs out of town, even calling the London pack and advising them that they might need backup.

It’s three days later when Melissa comes briskly into the waiting room, a tentative smile on her face. “He’s awake,” she says and the room lets out a collective sigh. “He talked to Noah for a few minutes. They’re running some more tests now but things look good.” She takes in the bedraggled and traumatized group. “You all should go home.”

A few of them do, reluctantly and only at Scott’s insistence. Malia and Isaac have been splitting time between the hospital and patrolling and neither of them look like they’ve slept or had real food in days. But Derek still doesn’t go anywhere and Lydia is glued to the hospital as well.

It’s another day before Stiles is finally moved out of ICU and they’re allowed to see him one at a time. Scott lets Lydia go first and she returns, eyes even redder than before. “You okay?” Scott asks.

She nods but he can tell she’s struggling. “He just looks so…” she can’t finish and it lodges a lump in his throat as he walks down the hall to his best friend’s room.

He knows what Lydia means immediately. Just looking at Stiles is painful. He leg is elevated and he’s so pale he practically blends into the sheets and pillows.

Noah is sitting by his bedside looking completely exhausted and Scott feels a familiar jolt of guilt in his gut. “Sheriff,” he says softly by way of greeting.

“Hey Scott.” The sheriff’s voice is rough. “He just went back to sleep.”

“That’s okay,” Scott says, eyes trained on Stiles’ face. It’s enough to see him, to hear his heartbeat, slow but steady.

“How are you?” Noah asks. “I heard you got pretty beat up too.”

“I’m fine,” Scott says. He’s definitely not telling the sheriff that the most he’s managed to do in the last couple days is pop his claws and even that was a huge effort that had him doubled over and panting afterward. “Sheriff Stilinski I—“

Noah shakes his head. “Don’t even go there,” he says. “We all know who’s to blame for this and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Then why does it feel like his fault? “He should have gone back to D.C.,” Scott says softly. “He would have been safe.”

“He was going to work for the FBI Scott,” Noah says. “That’s not exactly a guarantee either. And he’s only ever wanted to be here with you.”

The words do little to soothe Scott’s anguished spirit, but his time is running out, other people want to come and visit. He reaches out a hand to touch Stiles’ arm, a single spot that isn’t covered in tubes or bandages. He pulls, gently. There’s not much pain, the morphine and other drugs are working, but he takes what little there is.

He immediately feels light headed and breathless, like someone punched him right in the gut. His knees go weak, but he locks them into place and doesn’t stop until Stiles’ face smoothes out completely and he relaxes into the pillows.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers out, voice choking on tears that are once again threatening to fall.

He turns to go but spots dance before his eyes and he reaches out, grabbing onto the IV pole for support.

“Scott,” the sheriff is on his feet, hands reaching for him, his haggard face full of new concern.

“I’m okay,” Scott gasps, letting the IV pole go, trying to steady himself on his feet. “It’s fine.”

And then Derek is there, shoving an arm under his shoulder. “Are you trying to kill yourself?” he asks in exasperation.

“How did you—“

“I heard your heartbeat,” Derek says. “I had a feeling you would do something like this. Come on, you need to sit down.”

“What happened?” Lydia asks as Derek dumps a practically boneless Scott in a waiting room chair.

“Someone decided to take Stiles’ pain. Again,” Derek says. It comes out as a growl. Derek is furious.

Scott’s head is spinning and his chest has gone tight again. “Scott what the hell is wrong with you?” Malia asks.

“He doesn’t deserve to be in pain,” Scott groans.

“Well neither do you!” Liam says. “Scott if you can’t help protect the pack, that’s really bad!”

“Yeah, not to put any pressure on you, but Liam is kind of a crappy alpha,” Malia says, not nearly as quietly as she thinks.

“I’m right here!” Liam fires back indignantly.

“He’s moody,” Malia mouths, eyes wide as she points at him to convey her point.

“Scott you need to go home,” Derek cuts in.

“I can’t leave,” Scott manages. “He needs me.”

“He has literally the entire rest of the pack here,” Malia says.

“Scott,” Lydia’s voice is soft and she puts a hand on his arm, large eyes worried. They seem to be in that state constantly lately. Just another thing to add to his list. “You can go. We’ve got this. We won’t let anything happen to him.”

They don’t leave him much choice, especially not when Derek and Liam haul him up and out to the car. He’s really going to have to work on instilling more loyalty in Liam, because one menacing glare from Derek and he’s following the former alpha’s bidding like a lapdog.

Scott’s asleep before they even leave the hospital and he doesn’t wake up until morning, still fully clothed in his bed, minus his sneakers. There’s a note from Derek threatening him with further bodily harm if he shows up at the hospital before noon and a sheepish text from Liam apologizing for his part in last night’s debacle. And for accidentally bashing Scott’s head into a doorframe as he carried him upstairs.

It’s actually a few days before he gets back to the hospital. He wants to check the borders himself, make sure they are well and truly safe for now. And that steamrolls into him checking in with the new pack members, the other refugees and scraps of packs that have made their way to the safe haven Beacon Hills has become.

Lydia updates him practically hourly and he knows that Stiles is staying awake for longer periods, has managed to keep down solid food, is now able to feed himself, and hold a conversation.

And still Scott doesn’t return. Somehow it was easier when Stiles was still unconscious. He didn’t have to look at his friend’s eyes, to see the pain and what was likely anger there. Because how could Stiles not secretly hate him? If it wasn’t for him, for the bite, they would have gone on living their lives none the wiser. Stiles would be an FBI Agent, he would be a vet, and they would have just…lived.

Now it feels like they’re cursed.

The reasons that kept him at the hospital are the same ones that now keep him away. It’s weird. Any one of their misguided guidance counselors would probably tell him he needs to talk about that and examine it, but there’s no time. There isn’t time for anything but making sure everyone is safe.

Until his phone buzzes with a message from Derek. He’s asking for you.

And he knows, he can’t put it off any longer.

He waits until night, until he gets confirmation that everyone has gone home. Everyone except Derek. Derek won’t leave Stiles unprotected.

Scott pauses outside the door, a pit in his stomach that feels like a rock. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. “Scottttiiiieeee.” Stiles is all smiles and Scott can smell the drugs in his blood that are keeping him like that.

“Hey buddy,” Scott says, trying to force a smile onto his own face. Maybe in his drugged up state Stiles won’t notice that it’s fake as hell.

Derek is standing broodily in the corner and Scott flashes him a grateful look. If he can’t be with Stiles, he’s glad someone is.

Stiles is apparently still with it enough to sense a conversation going on without him and he frowns. “Are you the reason I have a personal bodyguard?” he asks.

“Someone tried to blow you up Stiles,” Scott says.

“Us,” Stiles says, holding up a wobbly finger of correction. “They tried to blow us up. I was just the only one who didn’t magically heal.”

“Yeah, I know,” Scott says, the weariness in his soul pulling him further downward at this reminder of Stiles’ human fragility.

Derek chooses that moment to slip out the door.

Scott rubs his hands on his jeans, uncertainty running through him like a river. Stiles may be drugged, but he’s still Stiles. “You want to talk about it?” he asks.

Scott’s head snaps up and he meets his friend’s gaze, eyes sharp and knowing. “About what?” Scott asks, still trying to come off as fine.

“About why you haven’t come by in days so that I had to deal with Grumpy Cat’s rather intense presence at my bedside vigil. About why you’re standing there castigating yourself over something that isn’t your fault.”

“I’m not—“

“Scott.” Stiles gives him a look.

He knows. Of course he knows.They’ve been best friends their whole lives, he knows Scott better than Scott knows himself.

“This was…it was way too close this time Stiles,” Scott says on a rush of air. “I was holding you, feeling you die and there was nothing I could do. And all I could think about—“

He chokes on his own words, but fortunately Stiles never runs out of them. “You thought about Allison,” he says seriously.

“And Aidan, and Boyd, and Erica,” Scott continues. “Deucalion. Brett. Lori. Stiles…the list…it’s too long. And if you get added to it…”

“Then it will have been my choice,” Stiles says and it stops Scott cold. “Because I chose to stay and defend my friends and family. My choice Scott. Not yours.”

Oh. Oh.

Stiles is still going. “You didn’t choose to get the bite. But you chose everything that came after. You chose to fight for the right things Scott. You chose not to be a monster. Not all monsters do monstrous things, right? Well I chose this. I chose Beacon Hills. I choose this pack. I choose you. I choose Lydia. I…” he pulls a face, “begrudgingly choose Derek. Because he’s big and menacing and good at keeping bad guys away.”

Scott cracks a real smile, a sliver of light stealing its way back into his soul. “He is good at that.”

“I do not choose Theo,” Stiles continues, on a roll now. “Ever. For any reason. I choose Jackson if and only if he stops being an asshole.”

“I got it Stiles,” Scott says, face begrudgingly pulling into a full on grin.

“You sure? Because I can keep going. Liam I can take or leave depending on the day and how annoying he’s being.”

“Stiles, I got it!” Scott says, a genuine chuckle sneaking out.

“There he is,” Stiles says, a smile on his own face. “That’s the Scott McCall I know. No more Gloomy Gus around here all right?”

“Stiles you’re in a hospital bed. You broke practically every bone in your body and almost bled out. I have a reason to be a little upset.”

“But I’m fine.” He looks down at his bandage covered body and reconsiders. “Well I will be. And so will you. Not that you didn’t also try to kill yourself on my behalf.” Stiles raises his eyebrows and Scott winces. “Oh yeah. Derek filled me in. On everything.”

“I just…didn’t want you to be in pain.”

“Yeah, well, while I appreciate the ever present existence of pain drain, you really don’t need to sacrifice yourself on my behalf. Again.” Stiles looks down as his hands. “But thanks. If you guys hadn’t gotten me here so fast…”

“Yeah,” Scott says, his eyes burning again. He’s cried more in the last week than he has since Peter bit him.

“You don’t need to take all this on by yourself Scott,” Stiles says quietly. “And you can’t protect everyone from everything.”

It’s a bitter thing to hear and he swallows it down painfully. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s been reminded of this, but he so badly wants to keep them all safe, to take them all back to a time before fangs and claws and glowing eyes ruled their lives.

“Scott?” Stiles says, eyes searching him for a response.

“I just want you to be okay,” Scott says heavily.

“I know,” Stiles says.

The two of them sit in the silence a moment, all the unsaid things, the weight of fighting a war they didn’t start hanging in the space between them. “I did take down two guys though,” Stiles finally says, breaking the tension.

“Yeah with your stupid bat,” Scott says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh it’s definitely time for me to learn how to use a gun,” Stiles says. “A big one. Possibly also a flame thrower. Or a tank. Scott, I think we should get a tank.”

“I’m not letting you out again in anything less than full body armor,” Scott says, sinking down into a chair by his bed.

“Oh! Yes. Body armor. We’ve got to have the budget for that somewhere right? Who knows that? Argent. He has to have some connections on that right? Legal ones?”

Scott sinks down into a chair beside Stiles’ bed and listens to him chatter on, feeling his own eyelids grow heavy.

“Scott? Scottie?”

“Mhhmmm,” Scott murmurs, body relaxing as sleep pulls him downward.

His best friend is alive. For now the border is safe. The pack is strong. And for the first time in a long time, soothed by the sound of Stiles’ voice, he falls into peaceful sleep.

#Teen Wolf #Scott McCall #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Stiles whump #Broken Bones #Blast injuries #Blood #Hurt Stiles #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #Lots of feels #Scott is a good friend #Scott is a good Alpha #Malia has the best lines by far #Teen Wolf Fanfic #Where Hope is Left So Incomplete

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

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A series of Firsts - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A cute Valentines day scenario with husband Giogio, nsfw-ish toward the end, just something that's been on my mind for a little while. Cut for length🥺💭❤️

Word count: 2318

Everything that could have gone wrong had inevitably gone wrong. It was the first Valentines day that you and your beloved would be spending together as a married couple, so needless to say, you wanted to make it a tiny bit more noteworthy than the usual extravagant outings you’ve grown accustomed to. You knew that things like this weren’t really important, but blamed your sentimental self for wanting to commemorate each “first” event in your first year of wedded life. As luck would have it though, every single one of your plans would be foiled, however, in retrospect, your end goal would actually be achieved.

There was still a chill in the February air, but it was a beautiful sunny day nonetheless. Giorno had already left by the time your sleep had broken, but you had woken up to a beautiful red rose and a small heart shaped chocolate on his pillow with a simple note in his handwriting. You smiled when you read the note, three simple words, but it meant more to you than anything. You lazed about in bed for a while, thinking about all the things you wanted to do today. The villa was quiet, save for the few guards that Giorno would not compromise on, you had given most of his other staff the weekend off, wanting it to just be the two of you. Or so you’d thought…

The spanner foiling this plan, came in the form of some important conference call with an associate from the Speedwagon foundation. Well, calling him an “associate” might be a bit cold, seeing that it was Giorno’s relative, Jotaro Kujo, who wanted to speak to him himself. Giorno knew it must have been something very important for Jotaro to reach out to him of all people given the circumstances and how suspicious he was in the beginning. So off he went, you presumed to his study, to discuss whatever issue was plaguing Jotaro. Deciding it was time to get out of bed, you quickly showered and threw on something comfortable, knowing you were going to put on a knock out outfit later on. No sooner had you stepped out of the master bedroom did you hear a loud bang, and felt something whizzing past you, missing your face by a hair’s breath. Being immediately on guard, you summoned your stand ready to attack the enemy that had infiltrated your home when you heard the familiar whining of Mista’s sex pistols…

“Mistaaaaa, he’s not here, can we go eat now?”

“Well good morning to you too number 5,” you said to the miniscule stand, who started to hide himself in your hair to escape the harassment from number 3.

“Awww has Mista has been starving you guys again? How awful, lets go find you guys something to eat,” you teased, earning an annoyed look from the gunslinger, to which he retorted, “Excuse me, they’re well fed and have nothing to complain about!”

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you asked Mista what brought him to the villa this early in the morning. You were hoping against your better judgment that it wasn’t anything too serious, but by the time Mista was done relaying his report about the unrest in some of the outlying areas, you knew it had to be nipped in the bud before it gained momentum. Wanting to feed the tiny gremlins, but being unsure of what they would eat in the morning, you set up some cured meats, fruits, nuts and some warmed cornetto on a platter.

The delicious smell of warm, buttery pastry had whet your appetite as well, so you decided to warm up more pastries for you and Mista and started making cappuccinos for the both of you. By this point you and Mista had been around each other for long enough and had been through so much together, that the bond felt more familial than anything else.

Setting down the food in front of you and Mista, the facts of his report were still playing on your mind.

“So where is Giorno anyway? I thought he’d taken some time off, which is why I came straight here,” asked Mista as he bit off a piece of his strawberry preserve filled croissant.

“He’s in the middle of an important conference call, he might be a while… what do you think about what’s happening in in the new territories? Do you think we can handle the situation among ourselves?”

Perplexed by your question, Mista thought for a while before answering. “I suppose they aren’t the strongest stand users, between you, Fugo and myself, we should be able to take them out if the need arises… listen, I don’t like where you’re going with this,”

It was all the confirmation you needed as you spoke with determination, “Let’s go then, if we can end this before it has a chance to blow up then we should do it. Call Fugo, I’m sure he’ll be willing to go with us, I’ll text Gio to let him know.” It was the first time you’d taken a bold decision like that without so much as consulting with Giorno… and just like that, you had thrown the second spanner in the works without even knowing it, because what should have taken a couple of hours had ended up taking the better part of the day.

“I wonder…. where could she be… ” mused Giorno as he walked around the villa looking for you. The conference call had taken longer than expected so he sought you out to make it up to you, but you were nowhere to be found. Deciding to call you, he’d come across the text message you’d sent him just before you left. His eyes darkened as he tried to call you.

“Oh hi Gio, are you okay? We’re kinda in the middle of something here,” you answered, trying to sound unfazed despite the ruckus taking place behind you.

“Cara, how can you just rush off into a dangerous situation like this? I’m very upset with you, come back here immediately,”

You felt very guilty when he still addressed you with his usual kindness despite how angry he sounded.

“Gio, I’m so sorry, I’ll explain everything when we get back, it will be over soon I promise,” you say, trying to placate both his temper and your own feelings.

“You guys have an hour to come back, failing which, I’ll have to come there myself. Honestly, you’re lucky I love you as much as I do, amore…” with that Giorno ended the call and went back to his study, hoping that you guys would be okay.

Upon arriving at Giorno’s study, you found him to be the picture of serenity, quietly working at his desk with some soft music playing in the background. He was relieved to see that you three delinquents were okay, most of all, you- his wife, who unfortunately was the biggest troublemaker of the lot, however he didn’t let that relief show on his face…

Just as Mista was about to speak, Giorno raised his hand to silence him,

“Did everything work out as expected in your marvelous misadventure?”

“you could say so… the job is done”

“is anyone hurt?”

“no, everyone’s alright,”

“then go home, it’s been a long day,” sensing everyone’s surprise, Giorno explained himself further.

“I trust you all, I want to make that clear… but for God’s sake, at least 1 person needs to be the voice of reason, nonetheless, I’m glad everything worked out for the best, just think before wildly rushing out next time,”

Mista and Fugo left the office leaving you alone with Giorno. You waited to hear the little electronic beep that the door made when it locked before you gently lowered yourself into Giorno’s strong arms, settling down comfortably in his lap.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you tesoro… you have so much to do, I just wanted to share some of the burden with you,”

“I know bella, I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier, I was just worried, I’d like to keep you away from these things as much as possible,”

“I can hold my own, you know,”

“I know bella, but you shouldn’t have to,” replied Giorno, lazily weaving his fingers through your hair. He drew your head closer for a kiss, starting off gentle, growing ever more passionate until you both stopped yourselves.

“Come amore mio, there isn’t a lot of time left, you have to get ready for our date, remember?”

Reluctantly, you got off his lap and left him with a feather light kiss to his temple.

After a long while of titivating with your look, you made your way back to Giorno’s study, finding him dreamily admiring the final seconds of the winter sunset. The fading golden light made his hair shine like spun gold and drew out the various jeweled specks of his eyes. He turns towards you, and his expression changes entirely, as if time itself had stood still.

“What do you think?” you ask, doing a little twirl and ending off in a pose, you giggle at your gesture.

“Sei cosi bella, you’re absolutely breathtaking amore mio,” Giorno says as he extends his arm to you, “are you ready to go?”

You smile sweetly and link your arm through his, just as you’re about to leave, the electricity cuts out.

No matter, you both wait patiently, expecting the generator to kick in at any moment, but nothing happens. Giorno’s study is more akin to a bunker, an impenetrable fortress built with the intention of keeping you both safe if the need ever arose. Grabbing his cellphone, Giorno calls one of the guards and asks him to check out the problem, as you are effectively stuck until you can get electricity back into the mechanism of the door.

You tinkered around the draws and cupboards, and managed to find all the aromatherapy candles and burners you got your husband to help him relax, you would have been annoyed that they were buried away if you weren’t as relieved as you were. It was quickly getting dark, and without the twinkling lights of the skyline, the room was becoming evermore difficult to navigate. After lighting up a considerable amount of the candles, you had to admit that the atmosphere was quite romantic.

“Well, they’ve found the problem, but can’t say how long it will take to fix, I could always try to use GE to break us out,”

“Break us out and do what my love? It looks like whole city is out, we’re probably in the safest place there is, come on, relax, we’ll just wait it out,” you reply as you pull him over to the couch. “see, this is nice right?” you say as you take your usual spot in his arms.

“Of course cara, I’m sorry, you’ve been patient with me recently, I know I’ve been very busy, so I just wanted to spoil you a bit,” Giorno’s voice was so gentle as he spoke, his fingers tracing circles onto your arm.

You were relieved as you felt him relax under your embrace, “for what it’s worth, happy Valentines day tesoro, I know things didn’t go according to anyone’s plan, but I’m still happy right here,” you utter, burying your face into the crook of Giorno’s neck.

“Happy Valentine’s day Amore mio, at least we’ll never forget this, and besides we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

The temperature started to drop the later it got, so Giorno decided to make use of his fireplace to make sure you didn’t get too cold, your slinky little evening dress offered little protection from the cold, not that he was complaining, it just meant that you would snuggle up closer to him. A yearning stirred in him when he looked back at you, bundled up in his large coat on the couch, you just looked so beautiful, the candlelight danced about in your eyes and your smile was the purest he’d ever seen.

“Are you okay bella? The room should warm up in a few moments. Ah, I know what would speed up the process… I recently acquired a very impressive bottle of wine…” mused Giorno as he found the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet.

“Gio, isn’t that an insanely expensive bottle?”

“I’d hope so, it’s the 1992 vintage, imagine, we were just kids when this was made” he quipped, genuinely excited to crack open the extravagant alcohol.

“I thought you’d save something like that for a huge milestone like the birth of our first child or something of that magnitude. I just know how pricey it is,”

“Ah the birth of our child… conception of our child, it’s all the same”

Perplexed you asked, “caro, what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying bella, is that we’re freezing, the night is young and all we have for entertainment is each other’s wonderful company, whatever happens from here on out is up to the gods of fate, salute,”

And with a clink of your glasses and a gaze into each other’s eyes, you both took a sip of the wine. There was something irresistible about the way Giorno’s eyes glinted in the soft lighting. With a confident smirk, he drew you in for a passionate kiss, giving his hands permission to explore your beautiful body, drawing out those pretty sounds and lustful expressions that only he had the privilege of observing. Giorno was an intuitive lover, and you completely surrendered yourself to him. You both spent the rest of the night reveling in each other’s beauty and affection.

With arms and legs intertwined lovingly, breathing even and peaceful, you both slept blissfully unaware of the plans the mischievous gods of fate had in store for you.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #jjba x reader #giorno giovanna #don giovanna #don giorno #giorno #jjba #vento aureo #golden wind #valentines day #jojo's bizarre adventure #giogio #my writing #jjba giorno #jjba fluff #jjba vento aureo #n/sfw

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thefirstknife · 3 years

Note

I keep seeing this brought up in your posts with o14 and just want to point this out: just because someone doesn’t know/say they’re being abused doesn’t mean they aren’t. I myself didn’t know the emotional/verbal abuse I endured until after the fact and this really makes me uncomfortable when you use that point. Please understand that it is very much a thing that happens to those (not all cause everyone is different) that are abused.

You’ve brought up an important point that I am very well aware of. I am glad you sent this ask in this way and I want to address why I don’t use it as an argument.

Under read more, warning for talk about abuse:

I specifically don’t want to entertain this part of the discourse because abuse is about power dynamics. The abuser is usually someone with more power over the other person and the abused is usually someone who cannot escape the situation due to that power imbalance. And the abused person often either doesn’t have the capacity to understand the power imbalance or isn’t capable of asking for help or escaping the situation because the abuser is in some way threatening them. It doesn’t have to be a direct and physical/vocal threat (though it often is), it can be implied, but the imbalance in power dynamics is essential to identify an abusive situation. This is why abuse always features an age imbalance, economic imbalance (employer-employee or a household where only one person works and has control over all the money), family imbalance (parent-child) and so on. The abuser is the one who must have power and control over the abused.

There is no such thing between Saint and Osiris. In no way are they ever presented as one being above the other. They are equals in every single way: age, experience, position within their respective jobs and so on. Saint does not fear Osiris, nor does Osiris have any power or control over him. Saint isn’t afraid of talking back to him and challenging him. Saint isn’t isolated from others and he isn’t afraid or incapable of asking for help (from YW, Ikora, Sagira previously...). For that reason, I cannot accept that there’s a possibility of Saint being abused but just not knowing about it. From all the available lore that I’ve poured through to compile all of the known and documented interactions between the two, there is no indication that Osiris holds any power or control over Saint in order for this relationship to be classified as abusive.

Some people said that Osiris is being abusive by “withholding emotions” from Saint, which can definitely a part of an abusive relationship. However, I do not believe that Osiris is withholding emotional availability; this argument only popped up after Sagira’s death and their bickering in the Hangar (where Sagira was mentioned). It is explained numerous times by many different characters that Osiris does not respond to grief well. Ikora knows it, Saint knows it. This is not an abusive trait per se, as one cannot really control how they handle that sort of extreme grief. One could even argue that Saint was the abusive one in this situation by bringing up Sagira before Osiris gave him permission and a green light that he’s okay with discussing it. Same thing happened when Crow brought it up. However, I will not claim that Saint or Crow are abusing Osiris because there’s no other evidence to it. The situation is complex and not just easily boiled down to abuse. As someone who has been through abusive situations, I believe it’s reductive to call one bump in the road as abuse. It makes it harder to recognise actual abuse, both for victims and onlookers.

Of course, maybe there’s something in the background that we don’t know about. After all, we don’t have every single Saint/Osiris interaction written out in the lore. However, considering what we do have and what we do know about these two characters, I can say for a fact that there is no power imbalance between them and Saint is not the type of a person who would sit back in fear of anyone and not know about being abused, definitely not by Osiris. There is simply no evidence. Of course, if someone just doesn’t vibe with the situation due to a personal experience and the whole Saint/Osiris argument that happened most recently in the lore is triggering for them, that is something I can respect. It’s personal, you can’t control what triggers your trauma. But that’s a personal experience, not an objective read on their relationship. People have been adamant about saying that the relationship is objectively abusive, which it is not. If it’s upsetting for personal reasons, I would absolutely recommend not interacting with the upsetting content and would implore people to tag their content appropriately.

In my original post from back a month ago or so, I specifically addressed how people tend to claim Osiris is abusive over Saint without backing it up with anything and essentially vilifying one of them (Osiris) while completely infantilising the other (Saint). It’s harmful to mlm, especially to mlm of colour because of how Osiris is treated by the community. It’s a reductive view of a long-term mlm relationship that spans centuries. The time span is quite literally incomprehensible.

People also never bring up Saint’s behaviour towards Osiris, such as pushing a sensitive topic in public and pressing him on it when he’s clearly not ready. These are also signs of abuse. Another sign of abuse are also threats of physical violence which Saint does in the Devil’s Ruin quest dialogue when he tells Osiris to “get off this line” to which Osiris responds with “make me” and then Saint quips with “you would not survive that.” Nobody brings that up as abuse. And they shouldn’t! It’s clear that this isn’t a serious threat. And it should be clear that one quarrel over a traumatic topic isn’t a sign of a toxic relationship. Saint also greets Shaxx with the line “I always hated you, brother” and then they both laugh. Saint is very clearly often joking in this way and people recognise it as not serious. Osiris should be given the same benefit of the doubt when he retreats into himself over indescribable grief; he’s not emotionally manipulating Saint, he is grieving in the only way he knows how.

I find it highly suspect that this whole discourse only started once the pairing was confirmed as canonical. People have been shipping them way before that and with way less information available and there’s never been any discourse about how Osiris is actually abusing Saint in this relationship. I just find it really suspicious that a mlm relationship featuring a man of colour gets labelled as abusive from the side of that man of colour specifically, only after we’ve received the information that it’s canon. It’s an incredibly common pattern in fandom spaces when a fandom favourite (in this case Saint) gets into a canon relationship with a character that’s easy to be prejudiced against. Even if that prejudice is unconscious, it’s still prejudice and it’s painfully obvious to anyone who has ever been in fandoms for as long as me (or longer). There are also literally scientific studies on this so I’m not just talking about my own experience.

Without any evidence of abuse and no imbalance in power dynamics present between these two characters, I can’t see how someone can come to a conclusion that Osiris abuses Saint after they’ve argued once “on screen,” especially after Saint himself explains what the situation is about. He eloquently puts his reasoning into words when Amanda asks him if there’s trouble and also promises to reach out for help if he needs it. I don’t like the trend of jumping to a conclusion, especially when people who do it are highly inconsistent about it (most recent one being the person who claims Osiris is abusive, but also claims that both Osiris and Saint are grown men who can handle themselves without our help; this is a contradictory statement, as Osiris cannot be abusive to Saint if Saint can handle himself and can just leave if he wants to).

I apologise if the discourse about this whole thing is making people uncomfortable. I should’ve addressed my reasoning behind it earlier, in order to make sure that everyone is on the same page. I should’ve also tagged it with a warning for talk of abuse, but no one else did and I didn’t think to correct it, which is definitely something I should’ve done. People started talking about how Osiris is abusive and toxic without thinking that people going into the tags might be upset by it and unfortunately I didn’t think of it either.

I hope this explains it adequately. It’s a long post but I didn’t want to hold back on any of the details because this is an important topic. If there are any points that anyone believes are not properly explained, feel free to ask for further clarification.

#destiny 2 #discourse #saint-14 #osiris #o14 #abuse warning #i don't want to get into personal information but i've been through abuse myself #and while every abusive situation is different and unique to the people involved #there are patterns for classification #most important being power and control #ask #Anonymous

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seriouslyhooked · 3 years

Text

The Bast Bad Idea (Part 2)

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.

Part One Here. Story available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hello everyone! First and foremost, I want to start with a huge thank you to all of you who have reached out about this story. The response was so far beyond what I was expecting, but I am thrilled to know that all of you enjoy a CS Doctor AU as much as I do. As someone who grew up watching Grey’s Anatomy, it’s essentially engrained in my DNA to love a medical romance, and this story is one I have wanted to write for a long time. I’ve had more than a month away from writing thanks to my busy schedule, but finally my muse came to play and add a bit of fluff to this sweet short story. Chapter two picks up with a critical question – what was Dr. Jones going to propose to Dr. Swan…? Without further ado, here is our answer. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

His eyes strayed down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from Killian. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across a summer sky. The instant attraction was breathtaking. It felt almost out of time and space.

“We could…” she continued, nudging him along and hoping he would elaborate. She wanted so badly for him to say aloud what she herself was wishing for.

Yet where Emma expected words, she was instead met with action, tantalizing and surprising, but inspiring something in her she never expected. Before she knew it, Emma was in Killian’s arms, aching for this moment, kissing him and knowing she was positively senseless. All that existed was this kiss, this touch. It was electrifying and invigorating, a blaze rushing through her blood stream that emboldened a part of her she’d always held back. Desire. That was what this was, and it was luscious and intoxicating.

Following his lead, Emma broke away from the kiss only to gasp for air as he crowded her body against the wall. The hardness of the cement blocks behind her, coupled with the heat and definition of Dr. Killian Jones was too much to handle. She arched into him, striving for contact, and reveling in the feel of his skin on hers. The only problem was these damn clothes between them. Never in her life had she been irritated at this doctor’s coat she’d worked so hard to earn. For years she studied and poured everything she was into medicine, all for the authority this coat portrayed, but she practically purred when Killian stripped hers off and tossed it to the ground. Pushing his off of his body in return made her mind race. The muscles of his chest and arms were driving her to distraction. Then they flexed, and she swallowed harshly, earning a deep, decadent chuckle from this man who drove her crazy.

“See something you like, Swan?”

God that cockiness. They’d never had any kind of real conversation before now, but the way he smiled spoke volumes. His air and his persona were dripping in assuredness. Emma used to think that she hated so much confidence, but when it came to Killian, she craved it something fierce. It was somewhat infuriating, the way his eyes shone with mischief and conceit, but it was also hotter than anything she’d ever known. Still, part of her would rather die than admit that aloud. She had her pride, no matter how wrapped up in this moment she may be.

“It’s hard to say,” she replied, her voice sounding out with a shredded silkiness that she’d never heard before. “I haven’t seen much of anything yet.”

“My apologies, love. Allow me to rectify the situation.”

Emma watched as this ridiculously attractive man purposefully teased her. With deft fingers he reached for the base of his scrub top, inching the material higher up his body. The trail of dark hair he revealed was evocative, but it held no candle the shape and tone of those abs underneath. Sweet Jesus, were those real? Emma bit back a groan at the sight, her lip pressed tight between her teeth. It took everything in her to keep her hands from reaching for him. She lay them flat on the wall behind her at her sides instead, but they balled into fists unconsciously as Killian eventually tossed the shirt away.

His black hair was mussed now, both from removing the scrubs with that always-present swagger, and from her fingers having run through it during their never-ending kisses. His eyes were dark navy blue, but still they shone with hunger and delight. His grin was a mix of charming and predatory, but instead of inciting a fight or flight response, Emma only wanted to surrender. This was a man who knew he was in complete control. He had hooked her, totally and beyond any shadow of doubt, and all she wanted was for him to have his way with her.

The curses he whispered while helping her shed her own scrubs were like prayers on high, a sweet song to her ears that only added to his allure. Killian’s eyes never strayed from her, but his reactions were so open and transparent. He hid nothing, allowing her a glimpse to the world inside, and it caused the power between them to shift. If Emma was being hunted, then she was also hunting in return, and Killian seemed ready to be caught.

“Emma, I -,”

His voice faded out, and she struggled to hear him. Instead, there was a blaring alarm. Was this a fire drill? Why had the light in the room gone hazy? Still, Emma heard herself whisper his name.

“Killian?”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The screech of the sharp, incessant chiming by her ears wrenched Emma’s eyes open, and immediately she groaned in disappointment. All of that – every exquisite moment – was a dream. Ugh, of course it was! Because this was her life now: fantasizing about a hot trauma surgeon ceaselessly and wishing that her memories of him were more than mere imagination.

“Damn it,” she muttered aloud, covering her eyes with her hand in frustration. With her vision blocked, Emma was more aware of the feeling that her body was wrapped up in her sheets. She’d obviously been tossing and turning through the night, restless in ways she rarely was before seeing Doctor Jones. These freaking dreams just felt so real, and they’d only gotten worse since officially meeting him.

That was three days ago now, but things had been chaotic in the meantime. The level four trauma that came in when they’d been formally introduced totally swamped the ER. Emma was called down for consult on multiple patients, needing to give life and death assessments and treatment plans for half a dozen people. While down there, Emma had the chance to see David and Killian in action. She was struck, even in the grips of adrenaline, by their cohesion and capability. They were cool and collected, battling odds that were dire to say the least, but they prevailed. Emma had worked for years to hone her craft, to heighten her skills, and to meet the moments of medicine that her work provided. But the energy in the ER had shifted, and she felt her own abilities elevated by the camaraderie and collectiveness of everyone in the hospital.

That shared experience only lasted a short while, for after initial inspections and emergency consults, Emma was quickly rerouted to the surgical wing. For 16 hours straight she worked to save the lives of four people, and through something that felt like magic, or maybe divine intervention, she was successful each and every time. That good fortune held, not only for her, but for all of her colleagues as well. The hospital had managed something next to impossible – they had saved every victim of the horrible accident, but the work had been backbreaking. When she’d finally scrubbed out of her last procedure, Emma admitted defeat, heading home and sleeping for twelve straight hours.

Her next shift was markedly slower, and Emma had the chance to see the progress of her post-op patients, and to connect with the others in her unit. It was critically important that the doctors, nurses, admins, tech teams, and other staff were all feeling strong and secure. Patients needed everyone working as a collective whole, and Emma took it upon herself to monitor that. It was unusual for a Doctor, especially one who wasn’t overseeing daily operations, but it mattered to Emma. Saving lives took so much more than her medical degree and steady hands. She needed each and every person in the cardiac wing to be successful, and she valued every one of them for what they brought to the team.

Unfortunately, while Emma’s day was slower and steadier, there was also a favorite element now lacking. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d willingly joined Ruby on the daily trip to the coffee cart. Actually, she’d been the one to page Ruby this time, earning more than a bit of teasing from her best friend, but Killian and David never showed. Only later, when Emma was at the tail end of her workday and helping with a consult in the ER, did she learn why.

“He was here for sixty-eight straight hours,” David said bluntly, after having confirmed his diagnosis for a patient presenting with a blood circulation issue.

“I’m sorry?” Emma asked, confused for a moment at David’s turn of topic.

“Killian,” David said, prompting Emma’s face to heat. Here she was, hoping it wasn’t totally obvious that she was looking for a man she hardly knew beyond imaginings, but David had seen through her in a matter of moments.

“Oh, um – that’s, well that’s… crazy. Sixty-eight hours?” That beat even her record, and she’d been called a workaholic on more than one occasion.

“Mhmm. We were on the end of a twelve-hour shift when the call came in and he stayed, until every last patient in the trauma department was seen and attended to. I left for eight hours and was dead to the world the entire time. Still felt laggy when coming back. Meanwhile, he caught maybe four hours sleep total interspersed between rounds, crashing in on call rooms. You’d never know though. He was totally unfazed. Brilliant as ever. It was like being back in the field again.”

“Seriously?” Emma asked, amazed at that. She was no stranger to long shifts, but to work that hard for that long was a herculean feat. Somehow, though, she wasn’t surprised to hear Killian had pulled it off.

“Yup. I had to force him to go back to his hotel. Actually, Regina had to. I tried, but until the Chief said something, he wouldn’t budge. She had to spew all sorts of protocol and legal jargon at him to get him to go. Even then, I could tell he was debating whether to stay or not.”

“He has a real connection with his patients,” Emma commented, vocalizing a fact she’d ascertained by watching him in action. Killian cared deeply, and while his main job may be all about stemming the flow of crisis, and bouncing around from one case to the next just to keep people holding on, he kept track of all those he helped, and invested in each patient no matter what.

“Maybe. I think it had more to do with the fact that it was only eight am and you wouldn’t be at the coffee stand yet.”

Before Emma could respond, David was paged for something else. He’d left her with a polite goodbye, but also a knowing smile. Another time, Emma might have tried to fake that she wasn’t interested or deny that there was something between her and Killian, but instead she was too busy fixating on what she’d just heard. Emma carried David’s assessment around with her for the rest of the day, well after leaving the hospital and heading home. She spent the night wondering if what David said was true. Was Killian as interested in her as she was in him?

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

“We could what?” she whispered, getting out of her car, heading inside to her next shift. “What was he going to ask me?”

“Did you say something, Emma?”

Emma jumped at the unexpected question, senses on high alert as she stood before the elevator in the parking garage. When she found Mary Margaret only a few feet from her, and clearly the orator of the previous question, Emma relaxed slightly. She tried her best not to show her embarrassment, but it was difficult. Now she was talking to herself? Jeez, she was truly losing it at this point.

“Oh, uh, nothing. How are you today?” she asked her friend. Mary Margaret smiled widely. Her excitement was palpable, filling up the elevator car as the two of them stepped inside.

“I’m great! Just eager to get to work.”

“Any interesting cases on the schedule?”

“Oh, uh, sure, there’s a few, I guess. Well really most of my day is going to be in consult with the Chief’s office.”

“Wait a second, you have to spend a prolonged period of time with the Evil Queen and you are smiling? Who are you and what have you done with Mary Margaret?” Her friend now looked flustered, clearly trying to grasp at an explanation and then it dawned on Emma. “This is about David isn’t it?”

“David?” Mary Margaret asked, her pitch higher than it had been just moments ago. Emma laughed at her friend’s terrible play acting. Trying to pretend that this wasn’t about David Nolan was a lost cause. Eventually Mary Margaret realized that, and she sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she exhaled. “Okay, yes, I am seeing Dr. Nolan today.”

“Let me guess, he’s also going to be at the admin meetings.”

“They’re about coordinating long term therapies better with our emergency protocols and treatments. So yes, the head of the ER is likely to make an appearance.”

“I see,” Emma said, biting back a smirk so as not to make Mary Margaret too uncomfortable. In the end though her curiosity won out, and she had to ask. “So, any movement there?”

“Movement?”

“Has he asked you out yet?”

“Not exactly.” Emma waited for her friend to explain herself. Mary Margaret held off for a few seconds before blurting out the truth. “I actually asked him.”

“Really?” Emma was shocked. Not because she thought any less of Mary Margaret. In fact, quite the opposite. She was proud of Mary Margaret for going for what she wanted. She just had never ever seen Mary Margaret step outside of a comfort zone like that, and certainly not with a hospital colleague. “Good for you. And he obviously said yes.”

“Why is it obvious?” Emma rolled her eyes, but in a teasing way.

“Come on, you know you two were making heart eyes at each other the other day. There was a definite spark. We all saw it.”

“I’m honestly surprised you noticed since you had your own, what did you just call them? ‘Heart eyes’? Well, you definitely had heart eyes for a certain trauma surgeon.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to blush, and what perfect timing, because the elevator doors had just opened to the lobby. They exited the quiet of the elevator to a hustle and bustle found only at a top tier hospital. It felt like a swarm of people, buzzing every which way, on their own individual paths.

“David and I going to dinner tomorrow,” Mary Margaret said quietly, looking around and finding no eavesdropping colleagues. When the coast was clear, she smiled, looking back at Emma with excitement all over her face. “That’s all I know though. I may have asked him out, but he made it very clear he had plans for how our first date was going to be.”

“I have a good feeling about this guy,” Emma said, referring to David. She had known Mary Margaret for a long time, and she knew how much her friend wished for a real and solid love in her life. Few people desired and deserved that kind of connection like Mary Margaret, and for Emma, there was a real satisfaction in seeing her friend’s instant connection with a stand-up man. Based on past experience, there weren’t too many of those to go around.

“Which one?” Mary Margaret asked. Emma stammered something non-committal out, causing her friend to laugh once more. “And that right there is all the answer I need. See you later, Emma. Oh, and when you see Killian again, just go for it. Believe me, it’s so much better than waiting and wondering.”

With that, Mary Margaret headed towards the wing of the hospital where the Chief and her admins worked. At the same time, Emma turned her attention to the cardiac unit. She had a ways to go to get there, but while still in the main entrance of the hospital she was stopped short by a gruff, and somewhat uncertain voice.

“Excuse me, Doctor Swan?”

“Yes?” Emma replied, looking to the young man who approached her. Taking in his features, she realized she knew him peripherally. He was one of the new interns cycling through the hospital this year, but he hadn’t worked in the cardio wing or in a surgical capacity. Taking in his lanyard, which bore his ID card over plain clothes, she saw he was an ER intern. Interesting. “Can I help you?”

“This is for you.” The young man offered her a paper box. Emma accepted, thoroughly confused before the intern elaborated. “Curtesy of Doctor Jones.”

“Oh,” Emma said, suddenly incredibly interested. Unable to resist, she opened the box. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but what she found made her smile widely. “These are flowers. Paper flowers.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, but Doctor Jones told me there is a note inside as well. He wanted me to be sure to mention that.”

Emma was more than excited to read what this astonishing man would write to her, but something the intern said reminded her of the awkwardness of this situation. Had Killian used his authority over the interns to have this delivered? It wasn’t a crazy assumption. Many of the residents and attendings here saw interns as the low rungs on the ladder. They were meant to be learning and training, but often they were sent on coffee runs and foolish errands. Emma never believed in that though. She found it unkind and unnecessary.

“To be honest, it was hard to convince Doctor Jones to let me bring these,” the intern said, perplexing Emma further while eerily reading her mind. “I had to offer about a half dozen times. My shift was ending, you see, and I’ve been looking for a way to thank Doctor Jones since he got here. You know he created extra hours in the ER skills lab? He’s working with first years too. We get very little access usually, because the third years are prepping for exams and stuff, but he convinced Doctor Nolan to extend the hours. He’s even hosting classes himself. Cool right?”

“Very cool,” Emma said with a nod, and another smile. She breathed out a sigh of relief, genuinely happy to realize this man she’d been thinking of was good to others. It also made accepting this thoughtful gift so much easier.

From there, Caleb said goodbye, heading out for whatever interns did with down time these days. Oh, who was she kidding? Sleeping. That’s what she’d done, and no doubt that was what all interns still wanted most of all. Emma though, felt more awake now than she had in a long while. She found a quiet corner in one of the corridors leading to the cardio unit and took a seat, opening the box away from prying eyes.

Inside the box there were six different types of what looked like origami flowers. They were beautiful and delicate, and she wondered where he could have bought them. Only when she opened the note did she realize the truth.

Emma,

As you know, I’ve been away for quite a while, out in the field in a completely different world. In the desert there’s not really that much to do, except survive and keep as many of your people as well as you can. The downtime is long and hot and quiet. I picked up these tricks from a fellow soldier. It kept my hands at the ready and my mind clear, and there’s an honest beauty in them that reminds me of you.

Truth be told, there’s a flower for each time I’ve tried to catch you at the coffee cart since our meeting. Clearly my missions have been unsuccessful, so this calls for a change in tactics…

Emma smiled at the thoughtfulness and felt the pull of butterflies low in her chest. He thought she was beautiful, and he said it without fear. Had a man ever said so much? Had it ever mattered? Certainly not like it did now. Reading on, Emma laughed at the lightheartedness of the note and the bit of cheeky humor that accompanied it. His easygoing candor and transparency enchanted her, drawing her in even more than she already was. Then she memorized the time and place he suggested that they meet at the bottom of the page, knowing nothing and no one was going to keep her from this meeting.

Only after reading through his handwritten thoughts three or four times did she realize an added layer of perfection: these flowers weren’t just handmade and crafted with intention. They were also safe for her to take with her to her ward of the hospital. Being in and out of the ICU and cardiac units, Emma couldn’t bring real flowers into her offices without putting some patients at risk, but she could have these. From within the box she selected a bright yellow blossom, beautiful and intricate and folded to perfection. Wordlessly she tucked it away in her pocket. The others were deposited for safe keeping in her office as soon as she arrived back in the East Wing, and displayed on her windowsill, brightening the space.

The hours between the start of her shift and the time she was meant to meet Killian passed by slowly. Her rounds usually distracted her, but not today. While she still gave all due attention to her patients, Emma had that sense in the back of her mind that this afternoon would bring so much more to the forefront. The promise of seeing him again kept her heart pattering faster than it should be, and by the time the clock was minutes from their meeting, she was positively bursting with anticipation.

“Okay, usually I would give you a hard time and pretend to tag along, but even I can’t mess with a smile like that.” Ruby’s words snapped Emma’s focus back to the hallway where she was standing, pretending to read a chart. As she looked to her friend, however, she would never be able to recall what was on the screen in front of her. Ruby grinned when their eyes met. “He gave you the flowers, didn’t he?”

“You knew?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“Yup. Ran into him at the cart a couple of times. He was really starting to piss off the kiosk guy with all his loitering. Had to give him a hundred dollars just to shut him up.”

“He didn’t!”

“No, I wouldn’t let him. I told Boris to shut it unless he wanted a hospital wide nurses strike. Guy knows better than to cross me. He just acts tough for clout.” Emma laughed, knowing her friend truly ran this place in most ways. But then the apprehension of the moment caught up to her again, and Emma’s brow furrowed in worry. “Oh no you don’t. No doubting this, Ems. I’ve vetted this guy. Run all the background, checked all the sources. He’s a good one, a one in a million, needle in a haystack, diamond in the rough kind of man. And, to top it all off, he’s crazy about you.”

“You think?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“I know, but that’s all I’m saying. Let Killian speak for himself, okay? And, even though it’s hard, try and trust this.”

“I think I already do,” Emma whispered. “Trust him, I mean. But that’s crazy, right?”

“Love tends to be that way.”

“Ruby.”

“Emma,” her friend parroted, taking her hand and squeezing gently. “Just go for it. Go for it and see for yourself.”

With a nod, and the validation that she needed to hear from a trusted friend, Emma headed off. It felt natural and expected to make her way towards the center of the hospital once more. This time though, she passed the coffee cart, with only a fleeting glance. Killian wasn’t meeting her there today. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure where they were meeting. She followed the directions he’d given her, up a few more flights of stairs and through the wing with pediatric patients and newborns. She had been here many times before, for consults and comfort. It was a draw here in the hospital – the cuteness of babies just starting their journeys in the new world. Emma looked at them today, noticing the vibrancy inside the nursery, but didn’t linger. Instead, she followed the last of the route that Killian had given her and ended up somewhere she’d never been before. A place that must have just finished being renovated.

“Wow,” Emma whispered, walking into the sunlight on the open terrace.

With the glass surroundings and the plant life everywhere, this place was beautiful. There were pergolas and hanging vines, topiaries and flowering plants, daffodils and tulips, all breathing in the spring. It felt like a park, floating in the air, with the sounds of the city barely audible below. Emma could imagine the kids and the families who would come here someday. She hoped it would be a space for them to find some peace and happiness while staying in this unfamiliar and often stressful place. Hospitals were rarely any fun for patients, necessary as they may be, but this space was beautiful enough to distract from that.

“You made it, love.” The deep rumble of that familiar voice sent a shiver through Emma’s whole body. She cast a glance over her shoulder, finding Killian, leaning against the stone façade of the building behind them. In his hands were two coffees, and as he moved towards her, he offered her one with a boyish smile. “This is for you. Didn’t want you missing a routine caffeine fix for my sake.”

“Thank you,” Emma said automatically, feeling his fingers brush across hers, sending a zing of awareness through her. Her eyes flashed up to his, and she knew he felt it too. Suddenly she had no want or need for this coffee. She cleared her throat slightly before continuing on. “Where exactly are we? And how, might I ask, does the new guy know about it before I do?”

“It’s the Hubbard Family Wellness Gardens, gifted by one of the hospital’s most loyal benefactors” he said, full of knowledge. Emma was shocked that he actually knew what this place would be but then he smiled, gesturing to the plaque bearing that information. She bit back a laugh. “And as for how I found it, that’s easy. I never leave well enough alone, and I’m curious by nature. I’ve been nearly everywhere in the hospital now, but this place seemed the best for what comes next.”

“What comes next?” Emma asked, her voice hitching up as she repeated the words.

“Aye,” Killian murmured, his tone dipping sensually low. She swallowed harshly as he entered into her space, and he tracked the motion. She felt the heat of his closeness, and caught his scent in the air, clean, and male, and with a hint of spice.

“I’m afraid I didn’t think this through,” he said, close enough to kiss her. God, how she wished he would kiss her. Emma vocalized her first thought.

“Really? I did. Like a lot.”

His smirk told her she’d said that aloud even though she never meant to, but before she could react, he took hold of her cup once more.

“I meant these,” he gestured to the coffee in her hand. Oh, right. “May I, love?”

Emma nodded, and shakily let go of the cup she forgot she was holding. With deft hands, Killian placed their drinks back on a table beside them with far more poise than she could muster at the moment. When that was done, he stepped towards her again, looking at her with a glint in his blue eyes that made her heart skip. His hands came to her body, one to her hip, the other to cup her cheek. The rightness washed over her, and so did the realization that none of her dreams could actually prepare her for real intimacy with Killian Jones.

“Last time we spoke I intended to ask you something. Do you remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from wanting this so badly. Without thinking, she wet her lips, and he caught the action, letting out a groan that mixed pain with passion and pleasure. Then he cursed, a totally British ‘bloody hell’ falling past his lips before dipping his mouth to hers and giving them both a taste of temptation.

The kiss was… beyond incredible, but Emma was so deep in it she had no ability to comprehend anything at all. She was consumed with the moment, arching against Killian, feeling the silky strands of his dark hair and the scruff of his beard. His kiss was assured and passionate, dominant and indulgent all at once. She succumbed to the sensations, and let the rightness surge within her, not caring at all that they were outside or at work or that they’d just met. Instinct took over, and her gut, which Emma had always trusted, was telling her that this man was even more than she imagined, and someone she should choose to let in.

Pulling back from the kiss, Emma and Killian stayed close, and Emma took stock of all the places they were touching. His hold on her was firm but caring, like she was precious, and he wouldn’t let her slip away. In his eyes she saw so much emotion, and again she was struck by his transparency and trust. He wasn’t shying away from her or the moment. He was in the depths of desire with her, and their kiss, that perfect, sexy as all hell kiss, had left him tongue tied. The quiet wasn’t awkward, but assuring, and Emma felt secure here, safe even, while also being filled with more unknown wonder than she’d ever been before. Like someone at the start of a glorious adventure, she took a next step born of passion and hope.

“I’m off at six tonight… so, you want to pick me up at seven thirty?” she asked, referencing a date he hadn’t actually asked her out on. She feigned ignorance even though she could read him like a book. “Unless you were going to ask me something else…”

His hold on her tightened, and he shook his head immediately. She was right. He wanted a date – and she saw no reason to wait when she wanted one just as badly. She grinned at him, loving how the tables had turned. This time he swallowed harshly, and she was oh so tempted to kiss him again and see if he’d stay shy or rise to her challenge.

“It’s a date, Swan,” he said dazedly.

Emma hummed out her agreement, going in for one last fleeting kiss. But where she meant to only tease, he took the reins again, kissing her senseless and leaving her breathless when they finally broke apart. Only when her pager beeped with an incoming call did they end their inevitable interlude, and as they did, Emma felt a pang of longing, wishing this moment could last so much longer than this.

“Tonight, love,” he whispered, running his thumb against her lips. “Far away as it may seem, I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Good,” she replied, nipping his thumb ever so softly, and bringing the fire back in his eyes, before taking a step back. And with that, and just enough presence of mind to grab her coffee, Emma headed off, back through the hospital to the work that awaited her, knowing she could and would get through anything today for the promise of tonight.

Post-Note: Ah!! Finally!! I got the words on the page!! I did the thing!! I wrote the story!! And honestly, it’s such a relief. It felt, at some points, like I may never get this chapter written, but finally today it came. I know many of you were waiting, and I cherished every comment and review and message along the way. I hope all of you who wrote me, and those who read along with chapter one, all enjoy this installation. I write these stories for me and to brighten my world ever so slightly, but also in the hopes that they’ll spark joy for others too. In a time like this, a little joy goes an awful long way. Anyway, thank you all for reading, sending you the best, and hope you’ll join me next time for the final chapter of this CS AU! xE

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hannie-dul-set · 3 years

Text

wc: 3.9k | warnings: swearing, some violence, cheating mentions

it was past noon when you and seolhee parted ways after eating lunch at an admittedly over-priced restaurant. you two decided to go out because she was leaving the school in two days. the whole jeno incident led almost the entirety of the student body to deem her not too fondly, so even if you wanted her to continue her education here, it would only be hard for her to cope with.

seolhee said that she did not expect jeno to apologize for the things that he did, but you still had your hopes up. which was why the conversation you two had over lunch made you feel a lot lighter inside.

("he said sorry! oh my god, i'm still thinking that it was a dream."

you let out a laugh at your friend's upbeat demeanor, reaching out to a napkin to wipe your lips. seolhee accidentally hit the table from her excitement, but luckily none of your drinks toppled down. "well, he could do more than apologize," you started. "maybe make it up to you by clearing up the situation that happened at the cafeteria so that you wouldn't have to transfer."

a slight frown tugged down the corners of her mouth. "an apology is enough for me, really. that much already means a lot considering his personality. and even if he does clear it up, i've already enrolled at eastwood so there's no undoing it anymore."

you placed down your fork, looking at the hazy expression on your friend's face, and then you opened your mouth to speak.

"do you still like him?"

seolhee choked on her drink.

"no!" she hastily wiped away the stray droplets that made their way onto her chin, staring at you as if you've just accused her of a crime. "of course not! oh my god, y/n—" there was a red hue that washed over her face, and you couldn't hold in your laughter. "i—i was just happy that jeno has the capacity to change. he actually seemed genuine, you know? it was the first time i've seen him like that."

seolhee droned on about how the confrontation went. you didn't get to listen even though you were on the line with seolhee— after hearing jeno's intentions of asking her to meet, you ended the call to respect their privacy.

"he told me that i could punch him if i wanted."

"did you?"

"i would've ended up with a broken hand."

giggles erupted and the clacking of utensils followed after. you finished your meal before her, taking a sip from the remaining liquid in your glass with the straw. it was still quite early, so you figured that you still had an ample amount of time to talk.

"i'm glad that everything turned out well for you, seolhee," you started, placing down your glass on the table. "but remember not to sell yourself short. you shouldn't be satisfied with the bare minimum."

"i know…" she sighed. "that's the most we could get out of him at the moment, and i'm satisfied with that. actually, i don't think he would have even done anything if you didn't reach out to him. so thank you, y/n."

seolhee held gratitude in her eyes as she looked at you, and you pressed your lips together into a thin smile.)

you stared at your phone as you sent your last message to seolhee, walking down the sidewalk on the way to the bakery that chenle and jisung always went to. they were close with the owners, apparently, but you've never gone there until now. the smell of freshly baked goods sent you the signal that you were nearby, and you confirmed upon seeing the lines of pastries displayed from behind the glass windows of a cream painted building.

it was a quick purchase, your hands now full thanks to the three boxes of assorted pastries. you were sure that they'd fight over it if you only got them one— so getting one for each of them would be much better. the other one was for you to bring home to your parents later.

"thank you so much, taeyong! i'll be sure to stop by often," you shot the handsome man behind the counter a smile before turning towards the exit.

"bring the kids with you too! they haven't gone here in a long time and i'm starting to think they've forgotten about me," you laughed at his words, nodding, before finally facing the glass doors that led outside. taeyong was nice, and you were already planning your next visit here. there was brightness in your face as you reached for the door handle, though with great difficulty considering the stack of boxes that you were trying to balance with your other hand.

you were about to push the door open, but you froze, brows furrowed, and the brightness of your face dimmed down. there was a scene going on from across the street— four people ushering themselves into an alleyway. normally you wouldn't be as affected, but you knew these people, and an ominous feeling buried itself in your gut.

"taeyong?" you turned around once more, eliciting a curious expression from the older male. "can i leave these here for a while? i'll be back, there's just something i need to do."

he was evidently confused by your sudden request, but he relented without any questions. you thanked him one last time before finally exiting the bakery, making your way across the street.

"had fun fucking my girlfriend last night, lee?"

it was difficult for donghyuck to maintain his carefree composure when he was shoved against the brick wall with his ribs and jaw throbbing in pain. sweat trickled down his forehead and his hearbeat rang in his ears. he wondered how the fuck was he supposed to get himself out of this situation.

"look, hyunsung. i get that you're pissed, but let's tone down the violence, yeah?" donghyuck let out a wave of nervous laughter, raising his hands in front of him in surrender. "i didn't know she had a boyfriend! so can you really blame me?"

that was a lie. donghyuck knew well that cheonhee (or whatever her name is) was, in fact, taken. someone from the party last night told him so but he didn't exactly give much of a fuck. he thought it would be fine because they were from different schools, anyway— but it looked like he was being too careless.

hyunsung still had him trapped against the wall by the collar, the bigger male's glare drilling holes into his skin. donghyuck knew he wouldn't make it out alive if he made a run for it. he wasn't that strong or fast, and the damned neanderthal still had two other friends to back him up. all donghyuck could rely on was to somehow fool him into letting him go.

but even that didn't seem easy.

"you think i'm gonna believe that, you little bitch?"

donghyuck's blood ran cold and the grin on his face twitched. he felt his lungs squeezing in suffocation when he was pushed harder into the concrete walls, even if what he was saying was true, hyunsung was seeing too much red to believe him. a fist was raised, and he prepared himself for the impact of the third punch.

"kim hyunsung, jung hayoon, and kang jiho."

a gentle voice somehow stopped hyunsung from moving. a mixture of confusion and relief washed over donghyuck, but that was quickly overturned by unease. he froze. he knew that voice, and he internally cursed.

oh my fucking god, were you stupid? at that point, donghyuck decided that being punched would have been the much better option. why the hell were you here? and another question— how did you know these people? worry was writhing inside his gut and he bit down his lip as he watched you walk closer to the scene.

"i didn't expect to see you again, y/n," hyunsung's attention was momentarily diverted to you, but he was still helpless pinned on the wall. jesus fuck, this guy was strong. your gaze quietly moved over to donghyuck, and he hoped that you got the message that he was mouthing. hyunsung leered at him, which brought donghyuck to quickly shut his mouth.

your lips tugged down into a frown. "and i expected that all those corrective sessions with the dean would've at least made a dent into that personality of yours."

hyunsung scoffed. "righteous as always. you know this fucker?"

"he's a friend," you calmly stated, and donghyuck narrowed his eyes. what were you planning? "and i suggest that you let him go."

there was a phone in your hands and the screen was open. he couldn't see what was on it, but then you flashed it over for him and the other three boys to see. "i believe you were already at your final warning before i transferred from daeil academy."

donghyuck could see hyunsung's jaw clench as the guy glared at your phone, and it caught his intrigue. on your tiny phone screen was what seemed to be an open conversation with someone, and on the message box were a series of similar pictures waiting to be sent. donghyuck couldn't see the pictures clearly, nor did he know who were you planning on sending it to, but he got the gist of situation.

"hayoon and jiho might not get any major punishments," your eyes flickered over to the two boys, and they froze upon your stare. hyunsung's grip tightened. "but you're already on your last thread, hyunsung. you'd be expelled once the dean sees this."

at that point, donghyuck concluded that you were very very scary. but you were also very stupid for getting yourself involved in his own problems. no matter how much leverage you had over hyunsung at the moment, a guy like him would still find a way to get back at you.

"you've already done a number on the guy. don't you think that's enough?" you reasoned. "this isn't my business in the first place, so i won't send this if you let him go."

hyunsung's glare was as cold as ice.

"delete it."

but you didn't seem to be shaken at all.

"of course."

you sighed, explicitly showing to him that you permanently deleted the evidence from your phone. hyunsung finally let go of donghyuck, and he released a long breath, hid hands gently nursing the bruise on his face. the pain on his jaw and chest was momentarily dulled by his fear that you'd also get pummeled, but it once again resurfaced and donghyuck flinched at the throbbing feeling.

"you're still the same, y/n," hyunsung let out a bitter chuckle, signalling the two other boys to start moving, and you sent him a nod and a smile.

the three eventually left, but donghyuck still hadn't moved from his spot. he stared at you who seemed to be frozen in thought, that is until you released a sharp huff of breath and your knees nearly gave in to the floor.

"oh dear god, i thought i was going to die," you exhaled, sauntering over to donghyuck who was ready to catch you in case you actually did fall over, but you shot him a glare to stop him. "don't move— you're hurt."

donghyuck gulped and firmly nodded in obedience. you found yourself before him, but you didn't say anything further yet. you didn't scold him or ask him if he was sleight. instead you had your yes locked on your phone, fingers tapping down before shutting it off and shoving it down into your pocket. you finally looked up to him, and your brow raised upon seeing his puzzled expression.

"what were you doing?"

"sent a message to the dean."

his eyes widened. jesus, you were seriously scary. before donghyuck could press on any further, you quickly snatched his hand, staring over to the only opening that led out of the alley. "c'mon, let's go."

you already started walking before he could even retort, dragging the flabbergasted male behind you. "w-wait, where are you taking me?"

there was no answer from you, instead you just kept on walking and donghyuck was left with no choice but to follow.

“will you two be okay?”

“mhm! thank you so much, taeyong!”

the both of you were hidden in the furthermost area of the bakery, donghyuck sitting on the available chairs with a pack of ice firmly pressed against his bruised jaw. taeyong had been generous enough to let you two stay here for a while (the ice was from his, as well), and you promised to buy another box of pastries to thank him, to which he firmly refused with the shaking of his head.

“just make sure you get the guy home safe, okay?” he told you before going back to man the store. you concluded that taeyong was perhaps the nicest person you’ve ever met, and you were suddenly worried by the idea that chenle and jisung might have extorted this man’s kindness somehow (the former, mostly).

“y/n.”

donghyuck’s voice— lacking the confidence and cockiness that it usually held— called out to you amidst your thoughts. your ears perked as you sat before him, leaning forward in your seat and your eyelashes fluttered as you waited for him to continue. he wasn’t looking at you though, eyes in a faraway daze as he looked at the bakery’s sleek wallpaper.

“thanks for saving my ass earlier.”

he muttered, a slight pout on his lips as he did. donghyuck couldn’t bear to look at you at the moment due to his stained pride, but he isn’t that prideful to miss out on actually thanking you. It was genuine, though the embarrassment of you seeing him so helpless was still present. he was suddenly afraid because you weren’t saying anything, but then the sound of your chair screeching as you closed in on him happened, and all he felt now was confusion.

“what are—” donghyuck was about to look at what the hell were you doing, but when your hand gently made contact with the non-injured side of his face, turning his head to look at your worry eyes, the words he was about to say fizzled into air in his throat, leaving his mouth agape in fluster.

“it’s fine, hyuck. does it still hurt?” the rapid pace of his pulse when you brushed away the ice pack in his other hand to examine the dark bruise somehow made him even sensitive to the pain when you mentioned it. he flinched, unable to say anything. “ah, this is gonna last a while. you should drink some painkillers in the meantime, okay?”

donghyuck gulped. oh my god, why were you so close. your soft voice flooded not only his ears, but his entire being and it felt like he was drowning in your presence. the pain that was screaming under his skin was blocked away, numbed into nothingness because all he could feel was how his heart was running to follow you even though you were already so, so close.

he wondered what the fuck was going on with him.

all of a sudden, he felt like an absolute idiot. how would people react upon seeing the rumored fuckboy, lee donghyuck, flaring up at something as innocent as this?

he needed to pull himself together.

“ah!" donghyuck made a hissing sound when your fingers brushed over the area again, instinctively jumping away from your hold, and your brows furrowed in worry. he pouted at you, pressing the half melted ice pack to soothe his jaw once more. "i don't think ice and painkillers would be enough to get rid of the pain, y/n."

instantly, your eyes widened in panic. "oh no, does it really hurt that bad? should i take you to the hospital? oh my gosh, what if it's broken? donghyuck, how much does it—"

"maybe you should kiss it better."

there was silence.

your voice stopped midway, mouth hanging open and you deliberately put it to a close. a cheeky grin was painted on donghyuck's face, one that made it look like he wasn't feeling any pain at all. he noticed the worry on your face being slowly washed away, replaced by your lack of emotion, and you stood up. once more you decided to move closer, walking up to him and barely hovering over and— wait a minute, were you actually gonna do it?

he didn't think about it this far, oh my god.

"wait. y/n, i was just— jesus fucking christ—"

"you deserved to get punched."

donghyuck let out a yelp of pain, hunched over as he hugged his torso. he forgot that he was also attacked on the ribs and was only reminded when you mercilessly jabbed your finger to his chest. he looked at you as you went back to your seat, letting out another groan. “did you just hope that i was also injured here or did you actually know and deliberately subjected me to pain?”

“the latter,” you hummed, crossing your legs. “i was watching from the beginning.”

“so you just let that bitch hyunsung attack me?”

“like i said— you deserved it.”

there wasn’t a hint of jest in your voice and features, meaning you really waited until the last moment before you decided to swoop in. donghyuck bit down his lip, unable to meet your eyes. you were there from the beginning meaning you knew why hyunsung was about to beat the living daylights out of him. suddenly he felt like he didn’t deserve to be saved by you.

"but why did you still help me?"

he was genuinely wondering why you did that. you let him get beat up for a while before deciding to finally get between, but why? it really didn’t make sense to donghyuck, and his heart hammered against his pained ribs while he waited for a response.

“did you really think i was just gonna leave you like that? hyuck, you’re my friend and i care about you.”

what was supposed to be an answer only raised more questions.

“but— but didn’t you say i deserve it?”

“i thought that two hits was enough.”

donghyuck was flustered by your responses and he didn’t even know why. people either sided with him or were against him yet you were situated at both boundaries at the same time. it was a kind of combination that brought him to a place in his head that he’d never been before. you probably noticed the flurry of emotions swirling in his face, so you decided to speak up.

“donghyuck, are you alright?”

“o-oh, yeah,” he shot up under your worried gaze, and he pressed his lips together before speaking. “thanks again for helping me.”

he felt like he wasn’t worthy of your kind smile. “a-also, can i ask a question?”

“go on.”

“don’t you think that i’m like… a shitty person?”

donghyuck was afraid of your response. he was afraid of hearing that you’d agree even though he knew that he was really a terrible person. more than anything, he was afraid of what you thought about him, actually.

“i don’t think so,” you said. “but maybe you’ve done a lot of things before that would be considered ‘shitty’.”

he was genuinely surprised by your answer.

“it’s never too late, hyuck.”

it was quiet for a moment, but it was welcome. donghyuck took this time to think for a moment, to actually get in touch with the mess that had been long ignored in his head. he looked at you as you silently busied yourself with your phone, lips pursed in a manner that had his chest tightening. as if you noticed him staring, you shut off your phone and faced him.

“i think we’ve been loitering here for too long,” you breathed, a sheepish smile on your face. “should we go?”

donghyuck nodded before scrambling to get up. he went over to pick up the boxes neatly placed on the table beside you, but you quickly smacked his hands away. “what?”

“do you think i’m gonna let you bring all of this while you’re injured?”

“y/n, my hands are fine. didn’t you watch as my face and chest got brutally assaulted?”

“you’re still hurt, hyuck,” you protested. “also i’m not letting you go home by yourself. what if hyunsung decides to come after you? do you have anyone to come pick you up?”

donghyuck bit down his lip at your question. he wasn’t planning on going home and he somehow knew that you weren’t going to let him off easily if he told you that. there were many options that flooded his head on what he should tell you— maybe he could say that he’ll head to his dad’s company so that you wouldn’t have to worry, or maybe he can call renjun or jeno pretending that it was his mom.

but for some reason he didn’t want to lie to you.

“um,” his eyes were trained behind you when he spoke. “i don’t really want to tell either of my parents to know what happened... and i don’t want to stay at home, either.”

surprisingly, you didn’t press any further.

“okay,” you assured, and he sighed. he didn’t think that one simple okay could make him feel lighter. “still, i don’t like the idea of letting you off on your own. why don’t we call one of your friends?”

wait a second—

“should we ask jeno? wait, maybe we shouldn’t bother him for now.”

donghyuck’s face paled.

“what about renjun? ah, he might be busy today.”

god, please no—

“oh, let’s ask nana! maybe he’d let you stay over at his to rest for the time being.”

he wanted to stop you, but you were already calling him, and his blood ran cold. there wasn’t a problem with him staying over at jaemin’s— he was actually planning on doing that, anyway. the problem laid on the fact that jaemin would probably kill him once he found out that you were with him. donghyuck was too dumbstruck by the situation to even realize that wait— how did you know jeno and renjun? you even had their numbers? what the fuck?

“thank you so much, nana! i’ll text you the address,” there was a smile on your face when you were talking to him, and donghyuck didn’t want to get rid of it by telling you that the person on the end of the line was probably scowling at your request right now. that would also mean that he’d have to tell you that jaemin had been trying to pursue you, and he didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

so all he could do was smile and nod as he waited for his friend’s wrath.

but much to his surprise and relief, it never came. because the moment jaemin arrived to drag his ass to his house, he seemed to be too distracted by you to even look at him. he noticed something different from his friend; the bright gleam on his face when he looked at you was something he had never seen before, and it welcomed a feeling that he had never felt before.

“thanks again, nana! i’ll see you two tomorrow,” when you finally parted ways, donghyuck expected to finally be berated by his friend for, once again, not listening when he told him to stay away from you, but all that happened was the dimming down of his previous elated demeanor.

“let’s go?”

jaemin uttered without a trace of anger or malice or anything— and donghyuck was more unnerved by this. he nodded in response, wordlessly trailing behind his friend as he went over to crash at his place for the umpteenth time that week.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE // A HEART FOR A HEART

as they say, what goes around comes around. so when you break a hundred hearts out of the selfishness of your actions— be prepared to get your own heart broken a hundred times, as well.

24 // kiss it better

a/n: it’s 12:30am as i’m typing this and i’m just about to shut down oh my god ayways i hope you enjoyed this part!! some hyuck action hehehehe i’d say more shit but i’m really so tired rn so good byE

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cellard0ors · 3 years

Text

Fic: Movement (5/5)

YAS.

I got it done.

My pornstar!Rhett and College!Student!Link fic is DONE.

...it was supposed to be a short ficlet thing (hahahahahaha - cries) Still, it's done - so I hope you enjoy it @peachworthy! It was all for you!

If you want to read the previous part on tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You can read it ALL here on AO3 Link!

Dating a porn star is not what Link expected.

Not that Link ever expected to be dating a porn star, but the point remains – dating one is not like he thinks one would envision it. To be fair, this is probably because he’s not just dating any porn star, he’s dating Rhett and Rhett is far more to him than just a porn star. In fact, he was his roommate and secret crush long before Link even recognized him by his profession.

But now, having watched one of Rhett’s films, seeing him in action (full porno sex action), Link can confirm that that is indeed what he is. But that doesn’t really matter to Link. Nothing does, but how sweet Rhett is. How doting and romantic and kind of the best boyfriend anyone could ever have and it sort of boggles the mind that he is Link’s boyfriend.

But he is and their relationship is moving along quite amicably. Nights spent watching movies together, going grocery shopping, sharing chaste kisses and the occasionally more heated ones and it’s not all that different from how it was when they were just friends minus the addition of said kissing.

However, it’s more than a few weeks in, and it’s clear to Link that sex is an issue. Or not so much an issue as a nonentity. Neither of them have pushed farther than the classic over-the-clothes action and Link isn’t sure if it’s him or Rhett or both and it finally reaches a point where one of them has to speak up, so he decides to brave the field, “So, um, Rhett?”

“Yeah?” Rhett asks and he’s a little distracted, making dinner for them as he is. Still, Link sees no reason why this discussion can’t be casual, so he shoots for that as he asks, “You…? Ah, you think we’re ever gonna-? Gonna, um, have sex?”

The last comes out so horribly awkward and Link is rubbing at the back of his neck and somehow feeling like a heel in all of this. But communication is important in a relationship and he figures it’s better to speak now then forever hold his peace or whatever. Rhett looks up from the skillet he’s working over, eyebrows raised high, “Why? You don’t want to?”

“No!” Link rejoints quickly, “No, I definitely want to! I just…? I noticed we, uh…haven’t? Yet? So, I-I wasn’t sure-?”

So, you want to talk about it, but you can’t string anything coherent together? His thoughts hiss, but Rhett seems understanding as he removes the skillet from the heat and clicks off the stove. While their food cools, he carefully removes his oven mitts and shrugs, “Well, I mean…I’ll confess, I’m a little…apprehensive to kick things off.”

Link perks up at this and Rhett shoots him a lopsided grin, “Mean, you’ve seen one of my films now. Before you, when I’d get in a relationship, when people found out about what I did – I guess you could say they broke down into two types. First type expected me to be some god of carnality, y’know? Like, the best bang they’d ever have in their lives.”

He runs a hand through his thick hair, tossing it, which Link now recognizes as a nervous tic on his part, “And it’s not really like that. Don’t get me wrong, I think I’m a good lover. I don’t see myself as horrible in bed or anything, but what I’ve found is that a lot of those types of partners had these overblown expectations of me. Like I’d get them off in a second or that I’d ruin them for others or, I dunno, give ‘em orgasms every five seconds and I-?”

Rhett trails off, looking at a loss for words, but Link gets it, “They couldn’t sperate the fantasy from the reality.”

He gets a snap of fingers at that, Rhett looking pleased, “Exactly! Even though people say they understand that porn is fake and that a lot of it is exaggerated, for some reason, if they’re with a person who does it for a living, they expect something…I don’t know, revolutionary.”

Link nods and Rhett starts plating up their food, avoiding Link’s eyes as he speaks, “And I guess I just-? I don’t want you to be one of those types of people.”

Link’s heart stings a little at the thought – or more, at the idea that Rhett had had that thought. Rhett takes the plates towards their kitchen table, eyes still downcast and cheeks clearly red as he murmurs, “I don’t think you are. Truth be told, I know you’re better than that. But…I really like you, Link. And I don’t want to lose you because-!”

Link takes the plates from Rhett and sets them down, he then tips Rhett’s face up by his chin and kisses him tenderly, looking into his eyes as he speaks, “You won’t.”

Rhett doesn’t look convinced, so Link kisses him again, then wraps his arms around his neck, tugging him close, “You said there were two types?”

“Ahhhh, yeeaaah,” Rhett draws out, looking at little sheepish even as his arms settle around Link’s waist, “The other type is the one I’ll admit I’m a bit more worried you might fall into.”

Link’s eyebrows rise, asking for him to continue more than words can. Rhett does; but resumes not looking at him while he does so, “The other type are…intimidated.”

Link lets out a snort that speaks volumes, clearly saying there’s no way Rhett ‘intimidates’ him but that doesn’t stop him, “No, seriously – they think because of what I do, how many films I’ve made and how many partners I’ve worked with, that I’ll be hard to please or that they’ve got to do something extraordinary to stand out.”

“Well, I mean…I’m already extraordinary, so-?” Link teases and Rhett rolls his eyes, starting to edge away, but Link lets out a little abortive ‘Hey!’ before dragging him back over and kissing him. This time they kiss for a while, Rhett’s fingers hooking into the beltloops of Link’s jeans and dragging him closer. It’s right on that edge of sweet and sexy and, after a while, Link manages to draw in a rather audible breath, enough to murmur, “No, I get what you’re sayin’…”

Link puts space between them, knowing that now’s not the time to just jump into bed considering Rhett’s concerns. Especially in light of their legitimacy, which he confirms as he takes his seat at the table, “Look, I’ve thought about all of that. Everything you’ve worried about or your old flames thought, I’ve run ‘em through my noggin and I gotta say, all of it did trip me up. At first. But then, I had an epiphany!”

“Really?” Rhett asks with a very incredulous tone as he takes his own seat. Link’s already started digging into his meal, looking smug even as he answers with an agreeable, muffled hum – mouth full of food. Once swallowed, he grins and gestures at Rhett with his fork, “And my thought was, we just gotta get on an even playing field.”

Rhett looks a little stumped by that, blinking rapidly, “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Link says cheekily, “We’re making a movie.”

“You…sure about this?” Rhett looks at the Go-Pro set up in front of his bed with a mixture of uncertainty and dread. Link doesn’t mind the first, but is bothered by the second, even as he adjusts the camera, “Absolutely.”

“I don’t know, man…”

Link looks through the view finder. The lightning is just right, but he adjusts the angle some. He wants to make sure he gets a good, wide shot of the bedroom – especially the bed. That’s where the magic is going to happen. Just thinking of it, a whole maelstrom of butterflies churn through his central nervous system. Still, he’s nothing if not determined.

Some would call it stubborn. He prefers determined.

Regardless, Link looks to Rhett, “Look, this is just for us. Alright? Nobody gets to see this lil’ gem but you and me. It’s,” he looks into the distance, thoughtful, “It’s a Link and Rhett production!”

This gets a laugh, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Considering my extensive filmography, shouldn’t I be the headliner? Shouldn’t it be a Rhett and Link production?”

The name flip causes Link to make a face and drags another chuckle out of Rhett, “Take it you can’t handle that?”

“Well…I am the one in school studying film…”

“Okay, but I’m the star attraction here.”

“Are you?” Link asks with a devilish grin, even as he goes about adjusting various throw pillows and things, as if to perfectly set the scene for what is about to take place, “How do you know I won’t upstage you?”

The sound of disbelief that emerges from Rhett causes Link to make another face, “Seriously. You haven’t had all of this yet,” he gestures to his whole body, “Might just be I’m the one that ruins you for anyone else. That I just-! Just blow your mind so much sexually that you can’t get enough of me!”

Rhett is all smiles, enjoying Link’s boastful side more than he probably should. But it’s hard not to. It’s so endearing and, oddly, attractive and Link knows it as he claps his hands together and a couple ‘alright’s’ leave him in rapid, nervous succession because, well, it’s showtime.

And showtime means sex time.

Sex time…with Rhett.

Link is going to have sex with him and okay, okay, okay…

“You alright, buddy?” Rhett asks seriously and Link realizes his ‘alright’s’ have switched over to nervous ‘okay’s’ and he’s sort of a rambling, shaky mess. He looks at Rhett and oh gosh, the man is too attractive by half. Link needs to get back in charge of this situation. As such, he draws in a deep breath through his nose and nods to himself, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?’ Rhett returns softly, looking worried as he speculatively eyes the camera and then the bed again, ‘Cause I remember my first time filming and I was a mess.”

This draws Link’s attention, “Yeah?”

Rhett nods, “I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I mean, yeah, sex is pretty matter of fact, but knowing how to go about it and with a bunch of people watching…”

“Okay, but,” Link walks over to Rhett and gives him a quick peck on the cheek, before taking one of his hands and giving it a squeeze, “No one’s watching but you and me.”

“True,” Rhett confirms softly, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not nervous.”

“Are you?” Link asks and Rhett grins, “What? Nervous?”

At Link’s nod Rhett laughs, squeezing Link’s hand back, “You bet your sweet bippy I am!”

“Great! Then we’re on the same page!” Link beams and then draws back his hand and goes over towards the dresser, grabbing a folder he brought with him when he brought in his filming set up, “Speaking of pages…”

He draws out one and Rhett looks over it before letting out a loud boom of laughter, “You wrote a script?!”

Link shrugs, “Just a couple of words…”

“I see,” Rhett giggles and flips through it, reading quick snippets of the ridiculous prose, “And you said ‘Movement’ had bad dialogue.”

“What’s wrong with the dialogue?” Link asks with distinct affront and Rhett waves the pages at him, as he coos dramatically, “‘Ohhh Daddy Link, you’re so big’?”

Link snatches back the pages and tosses them to the side, “You just wait!”

“Uh huh,” Rhett is still giggling but Link looks serious, “You’ll be saying that and more!”

“Oh, I will?” Rhett wheezes and he wasn’t aware this was going to be so much fun. To be honest, neither was Link, who looks a little sheepish even as he reaches for Rhett, “C’mere…”

Rhett does and they kiss for a while. Nice, warm, comfortable kisses until Link sneaks in just the slightest nip of teeth along Rhett’s bottom lip. The tiny sting draws Rhett up short, makes his breath catch and Link draws back to look at him, blue eyes heavy lidded as he hums, “I’m gonna push record now.”

Rhett can only manage a nod and Link pushes a button on the Go Pro. They resume kissing and Rhett can’t help but let out a whimper as Link…pushes him backwards. The push isn’t terribly forceful, but it’s enough that Rhett finds himself backing up towards the bed. He feels the tap of the mattress against the back of his knees and at Link’s next nudge, he falls back against it.

Link clambers over top of him and their lips have hardly broken contact the entire time. Link’s frame is slighter than Rhett’s, but not any less substantial, and Rhett groans, finding he rather likes it beneath the other man. More so when Link leverages himself up a little…higher. Somehow Rhett finds he feels…small. Something he’s never really ever felt before and the sensation shoots straight to his dick, more so when Link husks, “You ready to learn a new form?”

That was actually something Rhett remembers seeing in the script Link wrote. It was a haphazard line tossed in amongst the sillier remarks he’d picked out, but hearing it now, he shudders, “I…?”

“C’mon,” Link whispers against his neck, which he peppers with little sucking kisses, “Gotta master some other…movements…”

The last is said with a level of severity that Link’s surprised he manages, but also – hearing it – he can’t help but laugh at himself. Okay, so, his dialogue isn’t all that great. To be fair, he wrote it more for fun than anything.

And as kind of a segue into how Rhett should be prepared for him, not the other way around. Link supposes it was his approach to avoiding nerves – an air of bravado that would sustain him through any potential worries.

After all, Rhett’s not wrong. Rhett is experienced, he’s done a lot – in comparison, Link’s sexual history is dismal. Still, Link’s sure he can provide something the previous lovers didn’t and he, heart in his throat, asks, “Tell me, baby…you ever bottom?”

It was, in fact, a question he asked in his script but, also, one Link wanted to ask for real. Considering his stature, Link’s pretty sure Rhett hasn’t. And with Rhett’s answering groan of desire, the question is confirmed, albeit the core of it still unanswered. Link whispers, “…you want to?”

“Fuck,” Rhett manages in such a breathy way that Link feels his balls tighten, more so when he can feel Rhett’s whole body nod beneath him, “Yeah…”

“You want to?” Link asks again, wanting Rhett to be absolutely clear about what he’s agreeing to, even as Rhett’s head starts rapidly bobbing more and more, “Yes, yes…yes, I want to, Link.”

“Link?” he asks and it’s a clear tease, one met with Rhett groaning again, this time not from pleasure, so much as amused aggravation, “I’m not calling you Daddy, Link.”

“Mmm, not yet,” Link purrs into his chest even as he eases up enough to draw Rhett’s shirt up and over his head. Rhett, not to be outdone, grabs the bottom hem of Link’s shirt and, working together, the two ease it up and over Link’s head. Now shirtless, the two resume kissing and moving against one another, hips lewdly grinding even with their jeans on and Link absent mindedly wishes they’d worn something simpler to remove.

But the feeling of his denim clad erection rubbing roughly against Rhett’s does create a magnificent friction that draws a curse from him, his skin breaking out in a light sheen of sweat as they continue undulating. Rhett’s fingers, which had once more gripped to Link’s belt loops, now dive beneath the back of his waistband, dipping beneath his underwear and gripping his ass firmly and Link grunts his name approvingly.

If Link learned one thing from watching Rhett in that film, it’s that the man has amazing hands. Big palms, long fingers, and Jesus – his grip. He’s latched on and breathing heavily and the sounds of those pants in Link’s ear is better than any music he’s ever heard.

Another thing he learned from the film – cheesy music is not needed. Just the sounds of two people together, seeking pleasure, is more than enough to get the fires going. Although frankly, Link was on fire the moment his lips met Rhett’s. And it’s a fire that only stokes higher as he eases up, pulls back and Rhett goes with him.

Link’s legs are on either side of Rhett’s, practically putting him in Rhett’s lap and Rhett curls up, his mouth aimed at Link’s dusky nipples. He claims first the left, then the right, licking and nibbling at the sensitive tips and Link’s head falls back, Adam’s apple bobbing on a low groan because, yes.

He’s always had such a sensitive chest. It was a source of embarrassment for him once. That his nipples were such an erogenous zone. But now, with Rhett feasting there, he’s more than okay with it. Okay with Rhett’s hands having left his ass to grip at his bare back, to hold him still while he feasts on his chest.

Rhett’s teeth scratching through swaths of chest hair with abandon as they trail down as far as they can go before arching back up, searching out Link’s mouth and Link kisses him again, his hands tangling in the back of Rhett’s long hair, fingers ensnaring themselves deep within the mass of curls and tugging just so. Rhett whimpers at it, hips jutting upwards and Link feels himself bounce some, smirks into their kiss as he murmurs, “Tryin’ ta take me for a ride?”

His accent comes out thick, a sweet southern drawl and Rhett’s eyes are glossy green as he puts up again and Link’s own hips answer – a dirty dance beginning as they rock against one another. And while the simulation of the actual sex act is pleasing enough it’s just – not the real thing and that’s what Link wants.

He wants it, but not like this – not this time and he lets out a whine even as he forces himself up and off, forces himself to pull away and stand – his hands shaking as they remove his jeans. And while Rhett is still lying there on the bed – looking like some kind of sexual Adonis – Link can just make out the slightest sliver of insecurity in his eyes.

It hides well beneath the open lust, but it’s there. And even though he’s clad only in his underwear – a rather funny sight no doubt, given the way his stiff cock is making the material curve outwards – he asks gently, “You okay?”

Rhett nods and starts working off his own jeans and underwear, even as he breathes, “Just…look at you.”

“Me?” Link laughs lightly and Rhett nods, sitting up enough to pulls everything off. Once his cumbersome clothing is removed, he looks to Link again, his gaze full of wonder, “Yeah. I mean…you’re just-?”

Rhett licks his lips and swallows, his eyes darting away for a moment as he whispers, “You’re so…pretty.”

“Aw, shucks,” Link waves a hand before going to take his underwear off, “Bet you say that to all the guys.”

“I don’t,” Rhett intones with such severity that Link’s hands freeze on the elastic waistband of his underwear. Rhett’s looking at him now. Staring at him and Link feels all the tiny hairs on his body stand on end as Rhett speaks, “You’re…you’re beautiful, Link.”

Am I? Link wants to ask; but feels ridiculous at the prospect. He toys with repeating the sentiment – because (of course) Rhett is beautiful too. But there’s something about the way Rhett said it, about the way he’s looking at him, that keeps Link’s mouth closed. Keeps it closed as he finally removes his underwear and somehow that’s what breaks the serious tension between them, Rhett’s eyes going wide, “Oh.”

“What?” Link asks and he looks down and then back up again, confused.

“That’s…” Rhett runs a hand over his jaw, “That’s…a big dick.”

The shocked, delighted laugh that breaks out of Link is surprisingly loud but Rhett just sits up more, grinning, “No, I’m serious, man. You could make a lotta money in the biz with that thing.”

“I could?”

“Yeah. Big market in the big dick department.”

“…so what I wrote in the script was accurate?” Link waggles his eyebrows, shooting him a gloating look even as Rhett sighs in defeat, “Well-? Yeah? Yeah, I guess so…”

Link lets out a little ‘woo hoo!’ and it’s hard for Rhett not to chuck a pillow at him and call this whole thing off. Not that he ever would, smiling as he is. Smiling and chewing on his bottom lip as words rumble out from deep within his chest, “But do you know how to use it?”

Link goes over towards the nearby dresser and, far more smoothly than he even imagined, he draws out a tiny bottle of lube. He quickly coats one hand before tossing the bottle near Rhett and, making sure to keep eye contact, he takes a good grip on himself. His words come out in a pleasured hiss as he strokes himself, his length growing wet and slick, “You’re about to find out.”

The visible shudder that moves though Rhett makes Link have to tighten his hold, because it wouldn’t do to cum from just that. It’s hard though. Not to lose himself at the mere sight of Rhett’s sheer arousal. Still, he manages as his eyelids grow heavy, his voice thick with emotion as he murmurs, “Go one then, Rhett. Get ready.”

“…ready?”

Link nods and his chin juts towards the direction where he tossed the lube, the tiny bottle resting against Rhett’s left hipbone, “Ready for Daddy’s big dick.”

A strangled sound erupts from Rhett and Link knows it’s not a laugh. It’s something much more lascivious as Rhett takes the bottle and begins to coat his fingers. He lies back and parts his legs and Link just keeps talking, “That’s it. That’s a good boy. Draw your knees up…”

“Fuck, Link…” Rhett openly moans and does as instructed. He pulls his knees up and it makes himself more compact, smaller, and he arches his hips, makes sure to put himself on full display as his fingers drop to his entrance. He eases one finger in past the tight ring of muscle, then another, and Link keeps speaking, even as he continues to jack himself (the sound of his hand on his flesh bordering on obscene) as he speaks, “That’s it. Get yourself nice and open for me.”

“Link…”

“You’re so tiny, baby. Gotta make room for me.”

The tight mewl of pleasure that leaves Rhett at that, the way his hard cock stirs against his belly, the wet tip smearing the skin there as he does as Link asks, makes it difficult for Link to continue. He’s panting now and there’s not enough air and he needs to get in. He needs to take Rhett before he loses himself to all the sensory stimulation going on around him.

He kneels on the bed, making the mattress dip and Rhett’s fingers lose their rhythm. He slowly withdraws his fingers, a noise of discontentment leaving him but Link just shushes him, kisses him, before he grabs the nearby throw pillows.

They work together to adjust them beneath the curve of Rhett’s spine, making it more comfortable for him to lift his legs higher, the tops of his thighs pressing back lightly against his body. Link doesn’t want Rhett turned into a pretzel for them to fuck properly, for them to face one another – that won’t look good on camera.

Link’s not one of those driven by the sight of two lumped up forms – bodies a heaving, tangled mass while they work away at one another. Same goes for up close, zoomed in shots of their bodies making a connection. While pleasing in the moment and certainly something he likes to see in the throes of passion, it’s never been something he’s enjoyed in adult films.

Granted, it’s not like he can zoom in with the camera now, so that’s not something he has to worry about exactly, but the fact remains – the two things are not something he wants captured on film. He wants their movie to fulfill his tastes. In reflection, he should have asked for Rhett’s tastes as well, what he would have liked to see, but then he feels fingers pinch at one of his nipples and yelps.

“What was that for?!”

“You’re distracted,” Rhett hisses, squirming beneath him, “Distracted instead of fuckin’ me!”

“I was thinking…” Link looks to the camera and then to Rhett and then back again. Rhett’s head knocks back against the bed on a sigh, “Link, please don’t go all directorial on me now...”

Link lets out a pleased little chuckle, “Lil’ impatient?”

“Ain’t nothing little about me.”

“I beg to differ,” Link growls and he kisses Rhett, buries his hands in all his glorious hair and then – thankfully – he pulls back enough to take a good hold of himself, to direct himself in. Rhett chokes out a sound that is the perfect cross between pain and pleasure and Link glows, “Yeah, see that? You’re so small and tight, sweetheart. I don’t even know if you can fit all of me.”

The cords on Rhett’s neck stand out as he tosses his head back, whimpering as Link spears him open, as he cries, “Jesus, Link.”

“Yes?” Link asks in a strained voice, but one that is light with enjoyment. Because he knows. He knows that – if anything – there’s nothing little about him. And Rhett is recognizing that now. Recognizing that Link is big and thick and filling him up quite nicely. His body is doing its best to stretch, to be accommodating, but it’s hard.

As hard as Rhett’s own dick, which he reaches for, giving it one swift, firm stroke before Link lets out a snarl of disapproval. He snatches back Rhett’s hand, presses it hard back against the mattress with a light, chastising ‘nuh-uh-uh’ and Rhett lets out a tight whine because no. He needs more, he has to have it, and then Link moves.

And this is very much the definition of movement.

Link’s hips work like a well-oiled machine, his length beginning a steady pistoning in and out, and Rhett’s hands can’t help themselves, fleeing to Link’s ass, needing to hold on to something – anything. He grabs it hard – fingers digging in and pressing him down, pressing him deeper, and Link answers with a curse, Rhett’s name following after as he picks up the pace and it’s clear neither of them is going to last long.

Their lips lock and unlock in filthy, wet kisses – their damp foreheads pressing together now and then when they have to draw back for air and just breathe. But they share oxygen between the pants, the bed beneath the shaking slightly – shaking like their limbs and Link’s mouth moves to Rhett’s ear, brushing against it as he whispers, “That’s it. That’s my good boy.”

Rhett sobs and Link kisses his earlobe, gasping, “You going to cum from my big dick alone? You going to do that for Daddy?”

Another tight sound winds its way out of Rhett’s throat and his body is growing rigid even as it trembles and Link can feel him squeezing around him, can feel how close he is. The pressure is fantastic, yet link can’t help himself, can’t help but kiss Rhett’s cheek, can’t help but meet his eyes as he asks, “Tell me…”

“Yesssss,” Rhett hisses and Link presses for it, “Yes, what?”

“Yes!” Rhett pants, his head nodding, “Yes, Da-!”

He doesn’t finish saying it. The word ‘Daddy’ gets lost, becoming a pure, jubilant shout as his body breaks apart, his climax washing over him like a warm, sweet cascade. The feel of it – of Rhett breaking apart beneath him – the sight of him losing control – sends Link over and he cums harder than he ever has.

His body loses complete control, snapping like a rubber band pulled too tight and he knows he goes a little crazy – his body jack hammering away with the kind of force he would normally abhor, but – what can he do? Rhett feels so perfect around him.

Link’s lost – swept up in the storm of Rhett’s release and his own and Link can feel starkly hot, wet spurts against his stomach and his own body is going much the same within Rhett. The collide against one another, again and again, until all the stings of pleasure are wrung out of each of them. They end up a sweaty heap until Link rolls off and looks up at the ceiling, eyes wide, “Wow.”

The word comes out winded. Impressed. Rhett responds much the same. They both stare up at the ceiling and Link knows the camera is still recording, but he could honestly care less. He feels weightless, buoyant, and just as he thinks he might float up and out of his body. Rhett sighs, “I need a new job.”

Link frowns, eyebrows knitting together, and he turns to Rhett, confused, “What?”

Rhett doesn’t look at him, eyes still glues upwards, as he exhales, “Need a new job, man.”

“…why?”

Rhett turns to him and his green gaze is unbelievably soft, “Told you. I said I’d always planned on getting out when I met someone.”

Link doesn’t speak, he just waits. Waits for Rhett to make him one of the happiest men on planet earth, as he says, “And I met you.”

“Yeah?” Link asks shyly, uncertainly and at Rhett’s nod, he smiles, licking his lips, “You saying you like me?”

“Shit, bo, “Rhett laughs, “think it’s pretty obvious I do more’n just like you.”

“Oh?” Link’s heart twirls up inside him and truthfully? This? This is even better than the world shattering sex they just had. More so when Rhett rolls to one side and, looking deep into Link’s eyes, confesses, “Yeah. I love you, Link.”

I love you, Link.

Link rolls on to his side, kisses Rhett, and – finally – gets to say something he’s been thinking for a very long time, “I love you too.”

The film they made is raw, messy, and the best film Rhett thinks he’s ever made.

Link points out it didn’t win any awards, but Rhett boasts that Link IS the reward and honestly, Link will take that. He’ll take that and then some. Rhett drops out of the business; Link continues with school – they transition fully from roommates to friends to lovers and both recognize that this movement in their lives is far better than any other kind of movement.

Because it’s one they’re sharing together.

#rhink #my writing #peachworthy #oh my sweet peach

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lilhawkeye3 · 3 years

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Find Your Way Back Home- Ch 3

Riyo Chuchi x Commander Wolffe, Riyo Chuchi x Commander Fox

Rating: T |||| Word Count: 1.9k |||| Set Post Order 66 |||| AO3 Link

previous • next

Riyo gripped the kitchen countertop tighter than anything in her whole life. The loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears threatened to drown out the pounding of her heart as she sought a tether point in her whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t do this.

How could she do this? The ghosts she’d left on Coruscant were now seeking shelter in her bedroom.

She’d looked at Wolffe laid out on her bed, and some sick part of her expected him to be Fox. She used to bandage her lover’s wounds on their bed in her old apartment. What had she done to deserve this cosmic taunt?

“Riyo?”

Riyo’s hands flew to her mouth to hold in her startled shriek at Ahsoka’s appearance just to her left. Her friend’s lips twisted into an apologetic smile, and she patiently waited for Riyo to come down from her sudden rush of adrenaline. Her rusty hand cupped Riyo’s elbow to help ground her.

“I’m so sorry,” Riyo murmured, blinking rapidly to hide her brimming tears before she met Ahsoka’s gaze.

The Togruta’s eyes were sad as she searched for the right words, despite them both knowing nothing would ease Riyo’s pain. “You see him.”

Riyo tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a gasp for air after so long underwater. “How can I not?” Her tears stubbornly refused to fall now, despite clamoring at the floodgates only moments ago. “I can’t… I can’t focus on this right now.”

“You can’t go back in there right now either,” Ahsoka calmly pointed out. “Wolffe needs to heal.”

And so grew her guilt. “I know.” She needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy. “I’ll get some more juvan ready so I can make a cold pack and show Rex what to do. You’ll both need to know how for when you go back.” She tried to ignore the predatory way Ahsoka’s eyes followed her around the kitchen as she gathered supplies.

“I find that talking helps sometimes,” Ahsoka quietly suggested, once Riyo stood back at the sink with her items gathered around.

“I’m not sure I remember how to do that after so long on my own,” Riyo muttered, grabbing a bundle of leaves from a jar more harshly than they deserved.

“No time better than the present.”

Riyo paused to stare calculatingly at her friend. She wasn’t lying about not knowing if she’d be able to speak of her nightmares after so long bottling it all in. “I propose a trade.”

One of Ahsoka’s painted brows rose in interest. “A trade.”

“I will tell you if you update me on your… situation.” She’d tiptoed around the circumstances of her guests’ arrival– and unlikely survival– for the past few days.

“Alright, deal.”

Riyo’s hands hovered uncertainly as she tries to steady her breathing before she begins. Where to even start? She’d tried so hard to forget that night six months ago. Now she had to relive it in full.

“I… I was home for the night.” Riyo doesn’t even recognize her voice with how vacant it sounds. “Everything was normal, even when I got a call from Co– Thire.” She didn’t want to relegate them to their titles. Those men– her friends– were worth much more than that. “He’d call sometimes if Fox was too busy to come home.”

Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out.

“There’s– there was a code phrase Fox had me agree to. Dusk is falling soon. If one of us used it in a communication, we knew it was from the other.” Her hands began to shake as she ground the juvan up. “Thire said it to me that night. He said I had to flee Coruscant while I still could, before I was marked as a traitor by the Chancellor. That Fox needed to know I was safe, because… because he didn’t think he was coming home.”

“Oh, Riyo…”

Riyo tried to laugh but she choked on her voice. “No, no it’s fine. Please don’t feel sorry for me, not after–”

Not after what you’ve lost. It hangs in the air like a shadow, chilling the two women to the bone.

She could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on her for a long moment before she conceded. “Alright. So you fled Coruscant?”

Riyo nodded. “Yes. I waited for him, but… then I gathered those I could and had a trusted pilot shuttle us off. It wasn’t just those from my office, though. There were several other members from Pantora’s allies that we also safely evacuated. It was beneficial in the long run, since the number of hyperspace jumps we needed to make ensured that we weren’t followed.”

“That was wise of you,” Ahsoka confirmed. “You most likely had been tailed. The Empire has been interrogating anyone they view even as having a potential to be rebellious.”

Riyo dipped her head in a gentle nod. “And I never was one of the Cha– Emperor’s greedy followers,” she added.

Her friend’s lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “No, you weren’t.”

“Anyways, I timed my resignation to autosend sometime during our flight, and I contacted Bail, who gave us directions to follow. That’s all there really is to tell,” Riyo sheepishly shrugged, relieved to be finished and able to turn her attention back to the juvan leaves she’d laid out. They needed to be diced and then ground with water into a paste that could be either frozen and saved, or wrapped in a damp cloth and held to the wound.

“So, my turn then?” Ahsoka asked, faux-cheer evident in her voice but appreciated.

Riyo nodded, thankful for something else to focus on. She beckoned her over though, waiting until the Togruta was looking over her shoulder. “Just make sure to watch how I do it, so you’ll be able to on your own. The leaves have to be separated carefully, or you’ll negate the medicinal qualities.”

Ahsoka observed quietly as Riyo worked, nodding along to each specific task that Riyo pointed out. It was quite simple, but an untrained eye would still mess it up. It was nice to have someone at her side. She’d been so used to being alone.

“We agreed on a trade?” Ahsoka prompted, once Riyo stepped aside and handed the knife over for her to try. “Would you still like to hear what we’ve seen?”

Riyo bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself afloat in the surge of stress that threatens to sweep her away. “Yes, please.”

Ahsoka nodded sharply, and then the knife made its first clean slice. “We were on our way back from Mandalore after apprehending Darth Maul– the Sith Zabrak,” she elaborated for Riyo’s sake. “And an order went out to all the clone troopers, everywhere in the galaxy: execute Order 66, to kill the Jedi.” Her fingers clenched around the knife handle to the point that Riyo thought it’d snap. “Somehow Rex… he fought it long enough to warn me to find a file about Fives, an ARC trooper that–”

Riyo could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of that name, one she’d long forgotten. “I remember. Fox… he shot him, to protect the Emperor.” It felt like lifetimes ago.

In a twisted sense, it was. It’d been during Fox’s lifetime, when he still came home to her every night.

Ahsoka hummed in agreement. “Right. Well, Fives had told Rex that the clones all had control chips in their heads, and that a damaged chip had caused another trooper to shoot a Jedi. No one believed him.” Her shoulders drooped. “I was able to capture Rex and take the chip out of his head, and he was back to normal. I… I let Maul out of his cell though as a distraction, and he damaged the ship so it crashed into a moon. We lost the whole battalion,” she finished in a whisper, head bowed.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” Riyo gasped. She wasn’t sure how a hug would be received, so she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were teary when she looked up. “Thank you, but please don’t be for me. I took a risk, and it was Rex’s brothers that paid the consequences.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad we found Wolffe. There have been other clones that escaped, but Wolffe was always one of his closest brothers.”

A small smile slipped onto her face unbidden. “I’m glad for the both of them as well. How did you find Com– Wolffe, though? You all barely made it here,” she pointed out.

The Togruta sighed. “You know Bail’s been coordinating a lot recently. We were sent out on a mission to try and contact a defector from the Empire. They’re a medic, and they’ve been treating several troopers sent to them for abnormal behavior. We arrived to get them out, and Wolffe was their latest patient, but they were being watched.” She stopped talking to peer at her work cautiously. “Is this correct?”

She stepped out of the way so Riyo could observe her work. “This is very good for anyone’s first try,” Riyo praised her. “Now we just need to grind it with some water to get a thick enough paste.”

Ahsoka waited for Riyo to set up the next step before continuing. “We had the freed men escort the medic onto our waiting ship, but we couldn’t take Wolffe back to base because of his chip. I followed their instructions to try and deactivate it, but we had to leave in a hurry. It took us a few days and several firefights before we lost them well enough to get here.”

“Had no idea you’d gotten that good with a blaster, either.”

Riyo bit back a shriek as Rex’s voice piped up from behind them. Good thing she’d been using the mortar and not a knife, otherwise she might’ve cut herself. At least he had the decency to send her an apologetic smile once she whirled around to face him.

“Gee thanks, Rex,” Ahsoka huffed, reaching out to playfully slap his chest. The two of them shared a grin, and Riyo decided to study the wooden floor beneath her feet until they snapped out of it. She wouldn’t dare disrupt their small moment of joy.

“I came out to let you know Wolffe is asleep again,” Rex finally explained his presence after he shook himself free of their little bubble. “We spoke some, but he tired quickly.”

That was good. He clearly was suffering from some form of head injury, so any amount of time Wolffe was able to be awake and coherent was a step in the right direction.

“Alright, that’s wonderful news. We should be able to apply this compress despite that.” Riyo picked up the bowl of ground javun and gestured at a clean cloth folded on the counter top. “Would you grab that and come with me? I’ll show you what to do, so you know how in the future.”

A quiet grief crept up her spine with each step she took back towards Wolffe’s room. He needed her help. She could pull herself together for him.

Riyo entered the room alone and took the seat beside Wolffe’s still form. Rex would be along in a minute.

Until then, she studied the still man’s face, finding and cataloguing each unique feature of him and hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt her like before.

#find your way back home #commander wolffe x riyo chuchi #riyo chuchi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #post order 66 #fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe #snowwolf

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life-rewritten · 3 years

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THARNTYPE 7 YEARS; THE CHEATING DISAGREEMENT

So I finally emerge out of the dark and show up to talk and discuss TharnType Episode 10. It was first, a traumatic episode for me, as in I was left feeling baffled, angry and disappointed, but I actually have rewatched it later, and I have my own opinion of this mess of a show. It might be a mess, but it's my mess, and I still love it very much, weird because anyone who saw episode 10 came out feeling outraged and I do get that, I do, I'm not going to pretend or defend what's wrong however TharnType has never been a show that has lied to us, it's always been about problematic flawed people in serious need of therapy, who end up falling in love and use love as their end all be all, their comfort, strength, and the thing that saves them. It's nice to think about a love that feels like your support and soulmate, someone to rely on, your everything, your loyal devoter, etc., it's nice to have that but if you're of a broken mindset where you have so many scars and trauma to deal with it brings a question of are you ready to be in a relationship, shouldn't you learn to be alone and happy first without anyone, shouldn't you be healthy before you do meet the one? I think this episode exposed these questions about TT because even after 7 years of love, they couldn't avoid the inevitable, they still had a lot of trauma, pain and insecurities to deal with before they can even be ready for marriage. In my opinion they really all need therapy even LeoFiat before they can stay with each other however TT has always been an escape to a fantasy about love stories, so we're going to deal with these issues pretty quickly; TT will get married, LeoFiat will stay together etc. And to be honest as much as in reality it makes me uncomfortable; no one should be going into this show for reality, advise or role models, you won't get that, what you'll get is a risky story about trauma, pain and love at the front of it all, and that's for you to decide if you can handle it, the dark parts, the defective parts and the questionable parts. I dealt with my own problems with it which I will be discussing but at the same time these problems have always been foreshadowed and told, no one should be surprised at any of the actions of this show, no one should be triggered into thinking people would think what they're doing is right (This show is meant to be 18+ I think, no sane adult would think what Type did to Fiat is correct). Still, I do understand both sides so here's my analysis on this episode, especially the cheating disagreement, who's right or who's wrong in this situation? Should Type be so angry? Should Tharn be so dramatic? Answer none of them is correct. Let's discuss it in detail.

TharnType: The Cheating Disagreement

Let's begin with Mr Tharn as usual. I remember in one of my first analysis, I mentioned that after 7 Years TharnType had become less toxic, more communicative, trying hard not to regress to their past immaturity and mistakes. And the thing is that that hasn't changed, from episode 2-9 TT have tried hard to grow and mature and be with each other, there were moments where they were tested like Type with his own regression and scars because of his boss and with Tharn we could tell something was looming with the marriage disagreement. And that's the thing with TT, they were in love, healthy, and happy, but the thing is; in TT 7 Years the show is about them having to face and deal with their internal scars.

Take Type, for example, he's had to the whole season to face barriers and blockages of his reasons for marriage, dealing with his past fears, his homophobic past and worries about reputation and more all connected to season 1 from his past, he had to face it head-on because he had a boss that forced him to deal with it, as he came through it and had to be without Tharn, he discovered that he wanted to be with Tharn all the time, couldn't live without him etc., And so he was ready to now cross the line and accept the proposal, for him it didn't matter about the checklist anymore because he wanted to be with Tharn no matter what. That was his lesson.

Meanwhile, Tharn was quiet yet loud, perfect yet full of holes, he was calm but something was brooding, the marriage disagreement showed that in his head he was scared, possessive and wanted Type to be his forever. His issue was always buried, almost forgotten but always there the scar of Lhong, Tar, San, Type and others. People forget that Tharn still had a mindset somewhere, where he was the one who was the most devoted and obsessed with Type, because of how they started; he stayed in the thought that he couldn't lose Type, so he never dealt with his own issues, he didn't deal with what happens when his fears come through (by Fiat, who's playing the role of being forceful like Type's boss), what happens when he and Type reach an impasse of miscommunication, and he loses Type, what happens when he hears that word again break up. It drove him back in episode 10 to his most significant, scariest and traumatised moments, he was not okay, but it had to come out before he and Type fully devoted themselves to each other. For 7 Years Tharn was not fully healed just like Type, Tharn was still insecure about Type's love for him, the instability of their relationship (will explain why he had every right to be) and more. Tharn had to deal with it when he saw Fiat kiss Type; it wasn't meant to be easy, it was something bubbling in him since episode 1 when Type refused the marriage proposal. Let's look deeper into Tharn's mindset.

There's a lot to unpack, so for the first time my essays may not follow linearly but bare with me I have a lot to analyse with this episode so it may be a bit all over the place. First of all, let's flashback to the past a similar situation to this one, before that remember Tharn asks Type in anger, "how would you have felt if it was me in that position". And the thing is we know how he would have felt we've seen it happen before; San.

The problem with San VS The problem with Fiat

In season 1 of TT, after TT gets together and Type refuses to cross the line with their relationship, defining the relationship, San shows up and starts to make Type jealous and angry. Type warns Tharn to stay away from San, they even fight about the breakup situation and Tharn tells Type; "I don't like that word it triggers me", okay not in those words but like that. Type and Tharn makeup, Type tells Tharn; don't do anything with San, that will make me angry. Listen carefully to how this scene unfolds:

Cut to Type excited to cook Tharn's dish as they just made up, he proceeds to walk out.

He sees San pull Tharn in a kiss.

Tharn pushes away.

Type runs and punches Tharn not San for cheating.

Reasons why Type beats and deals with Tharn, not San:

One, San was at their home (he wasn't meant to let San have any opportunities to be close to him anymore knowing what he's up to).

Tharn let San get in the position to kiss him (he shouldn't have been that vulnerable he should have been suspicious and worried).

They've discussed about it before; for them cheating is not something that would break them up thbut they'd face it head-on with each other before letting the other go. I know, right? We also see this confirmation later when in pettiness and anger Type makes Tharn jealous in the club, Tharn proceed to show his possessive nature (which is a flaw hence it's not a surprise to his reaction at this scene with Fiat) and Type warns him that he shouldn't cheat, Type won't cheat; no one is going to break up, but there will be issues and problems with it. Alright stay with me

THE MINDSET OF THARN

Let's go back to episode 10. Tharn has just again wanted to surprise Type (like Type wanted to with Tharn in season 1), proceeds to drive to work sees Fiat kiss Type (someone he already had doubts about will explain more) and his mind shuts down, and he proceeds to go to Type and blame him for being in the position. He believes the only explanation (since his head is unclear) is Type cheated on him. Let's pause.

A Mind Full of Doubt and Anger

First of all, Tharn was already on the way to Type to inquire about Fiat. We just didn't see it, bare with me, Fiat uploaded the picture of him getting drunk with Type and Tharn confirmed with PJeed in a previous episode that Type was out in the same bar drinking with someone. Tharn already had worries we just didn't see it. When Tharn returned home, and he set the table for the marriage proposal (I think he was going to wait for Type to come home and then propose) he saw Fiat's pen, and that's what got him to drive over to the hospital to check on Type. He was already driving there in doubt and rage and possessiveness; his mind blanked once he saw the final straw; Fiat's kiss. Okay back to the mirroring with the San problem, just like the same reason Type punched Tharn not San in season 1, Tharn took it out on Type.

Fiat had been in their home (they don't let anyone apart from Techno and friends in their home when they're together, they mention it, Type also gets anxious about Fiat finding him because he and Tharn don't let strangers in knowing they get jealous and also are protective, so people like Fiat don't get in), without an explanation. Fiat is Type's patient he shouldn't be there; it's a weird relationship, there should be no reason whatsoever for his pen to be at their house (also Type confirms he was there when his face shifts and he remembers what happened and Tharn notices that shift/guilt). Two, Fiat being at their home means Type let him in, means Type was comfortable with him (Type isn't comfortable with anyone in their home apart from Techno) to invite him in. Again it's an odd relationship for a patient and a doctor to have.

Fiat and Type had gone to the bar to drink. This is reason 2, letting your self in opportunities with someone you know has feelings for you or having a clue, hang around you. Being vulnerable enough to be in that position. This is hardest one Tharn has to believe because Type isn't someone easily vulnerable with people, one he has trauma about letting himself be that way, being so drunk he has no conscious, two he made it difficult for Tharn to break down his walls when they started and he doesn't actually open up to Tharn without Tharn forcing his way to the truth (we see this repeatedly this season), so why on earth would Type be with not his friends, with no one but Fiat, drunk and in a bar alone? It just doesn't add up when Type knows to avoid situations like this. Just like Type punched Tharn for giving San the opportunity to kiss him despite knowing his intentions, Tharn also got mad at Type for the same reason.

There was an actual kiss. Type actually let himself be in the position to be kissed by Fiat; despite both he and Tharn knowing they don't like cheating or scandals to do with it. Type is shocked Tharn thinks he will cheat, but really the thing is Tharn was already holding onto so much anger and doubt that when he saw the kiss, he didn't know what to think. And just like Type, he lashed out, it didn't mean he thought the relationship would break in fact he warns Fiat to stay away. Otherwise, he'd hurt him so he can go shout and lash out at Type, Type apologises, and they get back together. For TharnType cheating does not lead to break up, just a break down in communication which needs to be fixed. Unfortunately, Tharn's accusations hurt Type's pride and made him worry about how Tharn views him so he couldn't quickly settle he had to suggest the dreaded word they already fought about, something he knows triggers Tharn because they fought about it because of San, Type suggests a break and refuses to speak to Tharn after until he deals with Fiat. Like how dumb and inconsiderate can you be? Sorry both their actions give me stress, but Type, Type's activities made no sense to me despite the fact I will also break down his mindset soon.

So Tharn ends up broken being afraid to be loved, head shut down and filled with doubts and fears about their relationship because it's his turn to regress, it's his turn to become his worst version of himself. Type did that with the boss, but Tharn had to do that because of Fiat. So we see him alone, wandering aimlessly, drinking himself to tears because he's triggered by the fear that Type would end their relationship. Is it healthy? No, their dependency in this episode really became toxic and that's why I say okay this show has a great love base but really the love stories as beautiful and desirable as they are when happy, it's also toxic because they're too dependant on each other for my liking.

A Tired and Exhausted Mind

Now the San vs Fiat issue isn't the only clues Mame left this episode to make you truly understand that Tharn wasn't being overdramatic, he was psychologically broken. He was dealing with it in the way he knows how; to think he's undeserving of love etc. But another clue left is dialogue as with this show. When Tharn firsts blame Type on the cheating, he lets him know what's in his head about the situation, three quotes

"I thought you were sick." "I thought you needed me." "I rushed back from work tired and exhausted to get to you to see you doing this"

Now at first, you'll question why does this explain why Tharn struggles to accept the cheating dilemma as just a fluke. Well, here's why.

I thought you were sick:

First of all remember the reason why Tharn was rushing over in the car is because he started to question or have doubts about Fiat and Type, he'd seen Fiat before at the mall in episode 4, he'd seen the pictures and also probably the pen. The issue is on the phone when Type called him and told him he missed him and was waiting for him to come home, Type was sick, was vulnerable, was making him worried. However Tharn thought that it made it even worse because if Type was sick, he should have stayed at home, shouldn't have been drinking with Fiat, shouldn't let his patient in their home, and shouldn't be out here kissing said patient. Tharn still thought Type was not well, yet he had allowed his vulnerable self be close to Fiat which again is not something Type does typically. It meant there was some kind of trust, relationship shared with Fiat and Type that Tharn didn't know of, and his hazy and afraid mindset could only think of cheating.

I thought you needed me.

This one is pretty obvious. Tharn has an issue with not being loved; it's been the whole storyline of his, from season 1, when he was traumatised repeatedly in the past by Lhong to believe he was unlovable, to always never having someone who wants/needs him the way he wants/needs them, to always be the one who devotes all he has to be left. For Tharn he feels useless because of his past scars because of this very reason. When Type showed up things shifted, he was the perfect, lovable boyfriend, dependable, rich, sweet, loyal, even when Type didn't open up to him about his issues, Tharn went behind the scenes to help him solve them. He's been doing everything he can for Type, the work, the secret spies, everything to be useful to Type and yet he realised Type opened up to someone else, Type relied on someone else for comfort, Type wanted someone else to talk to and drink with. It felt messed up, and so he got into his fears about not being needed and started to think what Type wanted was Fiat not him; it's why he blames Type for cheating, Type already showed him the proof he wanted Fiat by being vulnerable with him in all the weak spots, without consciousness (being drunk), at his actual home (his safest space) and letting him physically cross the line with his body (the kiss). Tharn could not understand it at all hence the constant blame and questioning

I rushed back home tired and exhausted.

Thinking about what Tharn had been planning for Type, you understand more why this is even more of a big deal. They've had this marriage disagreement something that made Tharn question the stability of their relationship, the confirmation of Type's certainty, and if they were on the right page with what they want. The marriage disagreement was already making him flashback to their past where Type wasn't sure about crossing the line with them. Unfortunately going back to the past despite it being seven years later, Tharn hadn't dealt with the breakups, the fights and the issues with Type even if they were happy. To be honest, the fights, his begging and kneeling for Type to be his wasn't a good memory, he was continually trying to push it down, to see their love as equal but some part of Tharn couldn't believe it (because of his trauma of being left and because of the instability of his and Type's relationship).

An insecure and hazy mind

Type was hiding their relationship, opening up situations for people to believe they were single for the whole 7 years before the boss dilemma, it made Tharn angry, tired and frustrated but he was patient because he had told Type in the flashbacks (also crucial to this episode) that he'd wait when he's ready. So Tharn was already anxious about Type accepting the proposal, confirming the status of what their relationship is next, becoming public etc., because it was all that plagued his mind. But also Tharn was working hard because he knew Type was fired/quit from the hospital and needed security and stability that they'd be fine, he went to the 2 weeks work trip so he can work hard tirelessly to ensure he and Type were set for the future, he stayed up all night, refused contact and stayed focus exhausted, and the first thing he did when he rushed back was do a big show of his declaration of love despite the fact he was tired and needed to rest. His mind was exhausted, so it was easily vulnerable and was easily going to shut down due to signs of stress, he wasn't thinking properly because all he could think about was Type and he came back to seeing Type cheat. I did mention that one thing Mame was foreshadowing with TT (check previous essays here) was that Tharn's show of emotions was always going to be hasty, rushed, at the wrong time when Type had to deal with things, because of this it would cause chaos first of all, (like we see in episode 10) and second Type won't show consideration to his efforts making him feel mistreated/taken for granted.

A scene of this is Type taking the roses he bought to propose and throwing on the floor, and proceeding to mention the dreaded break up word before suggesting a break and walking out; It was inconsiderate because Type knows how Tharn reacts to that (Tharn's brain literally shut down again when Type asked him if he was breaking up with him) but even still Type proceed to throw away one of his efforts and walk out instead of pleading for Tharn to calm down, for him to let him be away so they can discuss better the next day. Type should not have left Tharn alone (naturally being apart is better for them but not in this shows lore where love is the most crucial thing and communication), Type should have gone to sleep and left Tharn to his thoughts no matter how much Tharn was being ridiculous and hurtful; he knows he and Tharn have been through this before (with Tar forcefully kissing Tharn) and he knows how Tharn reacts with this attitude. That's an example of how Type is inconsiderate to Tharn's feelings because of pride, stubbornness (waiting for Tharn to apologise first) and pettiness (to focus on Fiat first).

Like my previous analysis, this whole show has been about miscommunication of their internal scars, both misunderstanding each other's actions that stem from their own way to protect what they have but the other person sees it as an obstacle nonchalance to the other's efforts. Type is hurt because Tharn doubts his love when all he has been doing is missing him for the whole time, that he even got lovesick and lost his mind because of it, and Tharn is hurt because Type doesn't understand why he had to question and blame him, and he left him alone with the words break up and take a break. It wasn't right for both. Hence the dilemma.

THE MINDSET OF TYPE

Now I think it's pretty apparent why Type is hurt by Tharn so I won't focus on his perspective on the cheating disagreement; it's the same like he said word for word, how could Tharn not trust him after seven years, why would he think Type is capable of that when their love for each other is everlasting, and why would he refuse to trust him. Obvious stuff, let's focus on the other dilemma with Type—the revenge of Fiat.

Now to say I was appalled by this is an understatement, one Fiat is young like 7-10 years younger than these lot, so it's uncomfortable to see grown men (apart from Cir who didn't like taking part) agree with Type that although this is extreme, it's the correct thing to do. Two, Type is Fiat's doctor, like this is such a weird line to cross with your patient, not professional, scary and psychologically damaging as a doctor it breaks a lot of codes that's for sure, and three Leo standing there and letting this happen to Fiat just frustrates me all the more. So I want people to know I am against this before I actually start breaking it down in Type's point of view, this behaviour is not okay by any means, Type has never been meant to be a correct, moral character, he's always been problematic, harsh, volatile from season 1, this is nothing new. He risks things when it comes to revenge and anger; he takes it too far to make sure the person learns a lesson. Let's look into that warped mind of his and his reasons for why he did this:

A Frustrated and Desperate Mind

When Type thinks of what to do in the situation, it's important to note it was Techno and Champ that gave him the idea of what to do. Not the way but the idea to focus on Leo and Fiat. I was upset of course he should deal with Tharn first since that guy isn't stable whenever he's sacrificed for these acts, he's never okay every time it happens, he wasn't okay when Type broke up their relationship and left him with scars because of Lhong, and he wasn't okay when Type kept avoiding him and leaving him to stay worried they would break up. Like I said it's inconsiderate of Type. But Techno is the person who tells Type to deal with Fiat, in fact, to make sure Type deals with Fiat. Champ is who tells Type Leo likes Fiat and they should get them together to deal with the issue. Now look at Type's mindset; he needs to:

Find a way to get rid of Fiat for good. That boy isn't budging even when faced with moral dilemmas like stealing one's boyfriend, even when Tharn is telling him to stop he's still asking if I don't? He's a pest.

Get Leo and Fiat together: In a way, Fiat and Leo remind Type of him and Tharn's crazy, stupid and toxic beginnings, because of Type's stupidity and actions Tharn had to suffer constantly for them to be together. Fiat reminded Type of himself when he was little; he is protective of him even if people don't like that, he sees himself like an older brother, all he hates is Fiat doesn't get no for an answer that he doesn't want problems with Tharn but hearing about a love story filled with obstacles; Type wanted to help because it reminded him of Tharn and him; younger and dumber and toxic.

Get revenge on Fiat: This isn't surprising when you think about what the show, this season has shown us about Type. (Yes he matured and grew but there were clues he won't take what Fiat did likely), one he doesn't like people who try to ruin what he and Tharn have, they have been through this crap before with so many people it's not even funny, he doesn't have the time, they must know when they cross the line. Two, He is shown to be manipulative, cunning, sneaky, violent and harsh when it comes to protecting Tharn and him for Lhong he was willing to sacrifice for a bit Tharn's happiness, and his so he got revenge and got rid of Lhong. Three he's been this way petty, vindictive and violent when it comes to cheating issues since season 1, he doesn't like the feeling of fear and worries it causes both him and Tharn to have. It makes him angry and determined to teach people a lesson. Is that right? No, but it's been Type since day one, even seven years later for Tharn? It's Type. Type hasn't had to show how he is when someone threatens to ruin Tharn this season, we've only seen him grow because Tharn is safe and okay, but you saw how he reacted with the boss. No one messes with Tharn not even Fiat. He has to be taught a lesson.

A Determined and Helpful? Mind

So with these three thoughts in mind and a determination to teach Leo also a lesson about the seriousness of his actions, Type took it too far and planned a way to scare Fiat into confessing. Leo let him because it's his older P', he knows more about relationships. Remember, Fiat and Leo are young and inexperienced with all this. The way to do this, to get into Fiat's brain that he should stop, that Leo should stop letting Fiat stay a villain, and stop being a coward is through Fear. Type's actions in drugging, and staging a kidnap and threatening to harm Fiat is not okay, but it's enough to make Fiat know Type isn't to be messed with again (gets rid of him), it makes Fiat finally accept the error of his ways and confess to why he does what he does, lamenting about the fact that Leo never loved him. Leo overhears and realises all the pain he put Fiat through by being a coward (gets them together) and three it teaches Fiat a lesson for hurting Tharn (gets revenge) it's that simple, not right but it is that understandable.

Again Type isn't meant to be moral, he's a bad guy, he's a flawed character, toxic and problematic everyone in this show is, so yes it's uncomfortable, but TT has never been a show that is comfortable even if season 2 made you think it could be clues were telling you TT had a lot of pent up aggression, pain, and sadness from their past they had to deal with, and if someone triggers their regression that person pays for it as Lhong did, As Fiat did. Type has never been a saint, so I get the outrage, but it's 100% his character to do this.

Phu and Cir: The antithesis of TT and LF

Again the theme of this season is communication. And people have wondered why Phu and Cir are in the show, and I remembered telling you all that their scenes are meant to parallel and show a different mirroring to TT's relationship, in episode 1, it was to make Tharn feel angry that he and Type weren't out and full of PDA like they were in public, in two it was to showcase to us a dependable relationship despite parental problems, and in this episode, it was to showcase how communication works. Why all the other couples even ChampKhun (they aren't yet confessing how they feel), weren't progressing because they refused to communicate about their scars, fears and worries. Cir and Phu fought but made up after communicating and letting each other know they trust and devote themselves to each other. It's what TT and LF should do. LF finally got a chance for that and have gotten together, but TT will get there next week episode.

There's so much I can write about this episode. I'm probably going to write a LeoFiat analysis too because so much to say about their story. In the end, TT 7 Years is a journey, can be painful and worrying because it gets dark, but it's just like TT Season 1, nothing has changed, I know it's hard to want to like a show where the characters are so flawed, broken, unhealthy and problematic but there's a reality that TT aren't perfect characters, they're all human in a way despite their horrible actions, it's not okay, but I've never come into this show expecting saints, and warriors and heroes. I've expected three-dimensional flawed characters that make me question morals, psychological discussions and villains and what makes one, and it's why I like the show, it takes risks, it isn't perfect, the writing is not the best, but I stand with the fact the show is more profound than you all think. Mame has moments where she can be a good writer her vision for TT however wasn't done well, and I think it's her fault and the director (The problem with Mame), but I still get her vision, after all, I was right about LeoFiat since episode 3 if you follow the clues and the subtext the show isn't that surprising it's just a part 2 (not sequel) to TT S1, it's a conclusion to their story, you have to watch S1 and S2 together to understand why and how the characters act how they do. When you do the show makes more sense, you see the mirrors (like the flashbacks this episode weren't just there for cute moments but to show you Tharn's thoughts about their relationship, each moment we saw a cute moment reflected an issue; with San before that scene, a cheating conversation, a let's be boyfriends conversation etc.) all pointing to the disagreements the show has; the marriage disagreement (crossing the line to a new status) or the cheating disagreement (possessiveness and past scars). Everything has been built up since season 1. So yes I'm still here supporting the show, I know this won't get a lot of notes, a lot of people don't want to keep watching, and I don't blame you, but I still like this show. I haven't changed my mind. Let me know what you think if you're still watching the show, who is wrong in the cheating disagreement? How did you feel about Type vs Fiat? Let's discuss. See you next episode.

#tharntype #tharntype 2: 7 years of love #thai bl #mewgulf #bl series #bl drama #leofiat #cwg #january

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secretsolenoid · 3 years

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A belated Secret Solenoid gift for psymon on twitter!

“You don’t have to stay here, you know.”

Ratchet grunts, his attention on the space bridge controls. “What?”

Arcee, standing by the gate of the bridge, gives him a knowing look. “You don’t have to stay trapped on Earth forever.”

“I’m not trapped here,” Ratchet says stiffly, gesturing towards the bridge. “Minor ah--hiccups aside, the space bridge is fully functional. I do not require some--of some rescue, Arcee. There is work to be done and liaising to manage with Agent Fowler. Unless you would prefer to take over management of the Earth Base yourself? Have you perhaps gained a new skill in engineering while you were away on Cybertron?”

Arcee rolls her eyes and crosses her arms in front of her chassis. “That’s not what I meant,” she says, “and you know it. You can take a day to go to Cybertron if you want. A week, even.”

“I certainly can not,” Ratchet huffs. “Even if I weren’t busy today, it is hardly advisable to travel through the space bridge with it unattended, as you well know. With no one to take over the controls other than, perhaps, you, I cannot leave my post. Until someone else decides to station themselves here on Earth, I am going to remain.”

“You could ask for someone to stay here in your stead for a few weeks,” she points out. “I’m sure Bumblebee would be happy to send someone your way.”

“Someone like Bulkhead, who would be better placed on Cybertron to help with the rebuilding?” Ratchet scoffs. “No, I will stay here, thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” Arcee says. “But, fine. Any messages you want me to take back? For anyone in particular?”

Ratchet goes stiff. “No,” he says. “Just pass on my well-wishes to the team.”

Arcee presses her lip plating together to hold in a sigh. “Ratchet…”

“Ahp-ahp-ahp!” Ratchet says sharply. He presses his hands down on the edge panels of the space bridge’s controls. “I already told you what I’m doing, and I won’t be talked out of it. If anyone is interested in “catching up” with me, they can comm me, or come visit themselves.”

Arcee shrugs. “Well, I tried,” she says. “I’ll let them know you said hi.”

“You can choose to do so,” Ratchet says stiffly and does not look up from the controls as she passes through the gate.

He is busy, is the thing. There are a million things to take care of around the base, even with Agent Fowler bringing in some degree of funding from the U.S. Government and Rafael to handle the programming.

There’s still plenty of manual labor to do and plenty more specialized tools that Ratchet has to figure out how to cobble together out of materials from Earth and the few that can be spared from the rebuilding efforts on Cybertron. He is, after all, still one of the Autobots’ best medics, and that expertise means he’s the only one with the familiarity of some of the methods of repair that used to be popular in the hospitals and universities of their planet. Most medics now know how to reattach a limb or close a bleeding wound, but few know how to recalibrate a spark chamber or rewire an optic as good as new.

Ratchet will probably have to teach them how to do it-- eventually. For now, he can’t.

And he certainly can’t return to Cybertron when that-- that Wrecker--

“Slag it,” Ratchet curses and brings his hand to his face. He can’t blame Drift for joining up with the Wreckers. He’s had more than enough time to get over the idea of his lover in that group and has confirmation from both Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus that he didn’t do too badly in the group-- though that bothers him on its own. He knows what the Wreckers can be like. Wheeljack is a perfect example of it. Rough around the edges at their best and occasionally actively bloodthirsty when driven to it. Knowing the environment that Drift came out of, Ratchet is sure that the Wreckers were familiar, but he’s not sure if they were the best thing for Drift.

But Drift chose to go, and Ratchet chose not to follow, and now it’s been eons since they last saw each other. And now Drift is on Cybertron, and Ratchet is here on Earth. It’s the closest they’ve been since that fateful split, and here Ratchet is, staying right where he is.

He’s always been a stubborn fool, is the thing. He knows that, even where it counts, he is likely to shoot himself in the foot, say something he’ll regret, cling too long to what’s comfortable rather than doing what’s best for him. Maybe it’s age that’s made him so intractable. Maybe it’s the war. Whatever the case, when he thinks about going back to Cybertron to find Drift and say--something, anything--to him, he can’t bring himself to make the call.

So instead, he’ll stay here on Earth with his anger boiling and his spark aching, and refuse offers like Arcee’s, to help.

It is only two Earth days later when he receives a message from Cybertron. It isn’t a video-- they rarely have time or the bandwidth for those these days, even with the space bridge. It’s just a list of provisions in the delivery, a request for whatever tools are finished, and a note that whoever they’re sending over will need to be introduced to Earth and the humans. Another new arrival from the depths of space who doesn’t know Optimus Prime’s team and the planet where the final days of the war were fought.

Ratchet feels a frisson of nerves at the prospect, a tingle of static that runs all through his haptic net. He pushes it aside. He’s never been the type to see conspiracies around every corner, and he refuses to see one here. It’s not the first time this has happened, and while he finds introducing other Autobots to the organic planet singularly irritating, he did sign himself up for it. He has no one to blame for it but himself.

It’s a simple delivery run. Ratchet might not like it, but he can handle it. He sends back a confirmation to Cybertron, runs the time conversion, and discovers that he has a few Earth hours before the delivery from Cybertron. Just as well. Diving into his work will give him a chance to wipe these nerves out.

It’s probably not Drift that they’ve sent to make this delivery. And if it is, Ratchet will deal with it then. No use worrying over it when there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He manages to finish a circuit diagnostic device in those few hours, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling jumpy and on edge the entire time. He runs a whole battery of tests once the device is finished, then does them again. When the only thing that does is leave him with an instrument he can’t justify fiddling with further, he turns his attention instead to the space bridge. Running more diagnostics gives him something to do with his hands, but it doesn’t give him anything else to think about-- he’s run these tests so many times he can make the adjustments while hardly thinking about it.

Instead, he starts thinking about the very thing he was trying to avoid. What will he do if it isn’t Drift? What will he do if it is?

He tries to think of something to say and finds his processor simply stalling. Nothing he could say seems particularly worth saying, especially when he can’t think of what Drift might have to say to him in turn.

When the appointed time comes, it’s a blessing from Primus.

Ratchet receives his first warning in a message from Bulkhead. It starts with a ping, then when Ratchet answers, a video opens. It fuzzes with static due to the distance, but Ratchet can make out Bulkhead’s grinning face all the same.

“Heya, Ratch!” Bulkhead says with his usual ebullience. “How are you doing?”

“Just fine, Bulkhead.” Ratchet responds. “What do you have for me?”

Tellingly, Bulkhead’s optics slide away from Ratchet’s face. “Just, uh, some supplies. And, uh, a visitor! To carry the supplies.”

“Anyone I know?” Ratchet asks.

Bulkhead clears his throat loudly. He’s still not looking at Ratchet. “Uuuuuh, maybe,” he says. “You know what, I’ll just let him through; you two can talk about it.”

Ratchet can’t hold back a scowl, but he manages to hold back from barking at Bulkhead, who isn’t exactly innocent but is not deserving of Ratchet’s irritation at this situation. No one is, but Ratchet can’t help the way his nerves shunt themselves in bursts of outrage at every small thing. Maybe it will be better if he gets this over with.

He huffs but lets Bulkhead get away with it. “Send them over, then.”

Bulkhead’s shoulders sag with relief. “Starting bridge sequence, Ratch,” he says, and the video flicks off.

Ratchet runs one final check, lets the bridge confirm coordinates, and steps back from the control panel when the bridge powers up and the glowing blue-green vortex appears. Everything looks stable, and there’s no reason it shouldn’t be. Ratchet could operate the panel, just in case something goes wrong, but Rafael’s programming is robust in that regard, and…

He needs to see.

A figure starts to emerge from the glowing lights. Ratchet recognizes Bulkhead’s silhouette first, particularly with the shape of the supply trailer hitched to him. Bulkhead has been making most of the heavier supply deliveries.

There’s another figure next to him, a much sleeker shape that Ratchet recognizes as a Cybertronian alt-mode. If he didn’t know better, he might mistake the form for Wheeljack having given up his Earth mode.

But although the frame is red and white, it has none of the green stripes that distinguish Wheeljack. Ratchet recognizes this frame, too.

There’s a patchy quality to his paint that speaks of recent repairs. Dents, the pucker of scarred weld lines, everything Ratchet spots on Drift’s frame maps a history of damage repaired. Ratchet steps forward and traces each one, energy singing electric along his lines in a way that he knows translates to a deep scowl. He rests his hands on his hips and waits for the two to halt and transform.

Bulkhead does so first. “Hey, Ratch,” he says, still sheepish. Ratchet hardly spares him a glance.

When Drift transforms, it’s…

He looks the same.

There are changes, of course. He’s cybertronian. Of course, he’s changed his frame, through preference or necessity or both, sometime during this Primus-forsaken war. Even with the changes to his paint and some of his outer plating, his faceplates are the same. He’s kept the blue optics. He’s still got that sword, even.

And when he looks at Ratchet, there’s something warm in the glow of his optics.

“Hey, Ratchet,” he says.

Ratchet can’t get his vocalizer to work correctly. Instead, he grunts and nods and steps forward. Vaguely, he is aware of Bulkhead saying something about unloading.

Drift keeps walking towards him. Ratchet can’t look away, can’t do anything to stop him when Drift reaches out and, with a moment of hesitation, takes his hands between his. He feels the contact like a spark in his plating.

“You look… like you’re doing well,” Drift says, but it seems like more of a question than a statement. He’s looking over Ratchet’s hands, searching for signs of wear and tear, of maintenance. He knows that their hands are a medic’s livelihood because Ratchet taught him that so long ago.

Ratchet knows that the hardships of the war’s end are written across his hands, visible to anyone who cares to look.

“You look like you’ve gotten into a few scrapes, yourself,” Ratchet says. It comes out stiff and distant, more than he means it to, and he sees it register with Drift in the way he winces and lowers his optics.

That shakes something loose in him. He’s lived through the war; he’s lost his oldest and dearest friend. If he’s to live on, will he do it alone? Will he push away this one thing that’s come through the war alongside him?

“I’m glad you made it through,” Ratchet says before he can begin to question himself. It’s still gruff, still stiff, but he hopes Drift will see the awkwardness for what it is, this time.

It’s enough to get Drift lifting his helm, his optics bright and vulnerable. “Ratch…”

“Come here,” Ratchet rasps. He grabs Drift by the shoulder, pulls his slighter frame in to wrap arms around him, and Drift goes with the motion, wraps arms around him right back.

He’s trembling, ever so slightly, as he holds on to Ratchet. They stand there, so long that Ratchet loses track, just the two of them, together.

Eventually, Ratchet tunes back into his surroundings to the sound of Bulkhead resetting his vocalizer.

“Sorry, Ratchet,” he says. “I just, uh…”

Ratchet has to reset his vocalizer as well. “I’ll just send you back through the space bridge, shall I?”

“Great,” Bulkhead says. “I’ll talk to you two again later.”

After Bulkhead is gone, things lapse back into silence. Drift lingered close through the process of starting up the space bridge, and while Ratchet had always grouched about clinginess before, now he feels the need for closeness just as acutely. Now that they’re alone, and the initial spell has broken, though, he isn’t quite sure what to do.

He resets his vocalizer (if he does much more of this today, he’s going to break it, he thinks to himself wryly) and turns to Drift. “Well. We can get you settled in. We’ll need to introduce you to the local Earth authorities at some point, but Fowler is due later in the week… and we could get you an alt-mode to scan, unless you’d like to watch the highway for whatever comes along.”

Drift fidgets, glancing away and then back to Ratchet. “Honestly, Ratch,” he says, “I just… want to spend time here, for a while. Talk.”

He reaches out for Ratchet’s hands again. Ratchet lets him. He’s the heavier of the two of them, and Drift couldn’t pull him over if he wanted to, but Ratchet lets him lead. Drift guides them until they’re standing toe to toe, and tips his head up toward Ratchet’s.

Feeling like a magnet, Ratchet tilts his head down until they’re pressed together, forehead and lip plating. It’s awkward but so gentle, and familiar as his own spark. However long Drift meant the kiss to last, it lasts longer, and when they finally draw apart, Drift is smiling. To his chagrin, Ratchet is too, but he can’t find it in himself to squash it.

“Talk, huh?” he says with a chuckle. “All right. We’ll talk.”

#Secret Solenoid 2021 #Secret Solenoid Gift #Fic Gift #Drift #Ratchet #Dratchet

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xchibikai · 4 years

Text

SV99 Recap

Spoilers and pics below the cut

Yotaro drives through the rural countryside with everyone in the car. Gear says they won’t be followed anymore, now that the daylight has dispersed the fog. While they talk, Mahiru watches the scenery outside the window, surprised at how big the fields are (I thought this was such a cute scene lol.)

While Yotaro scolds Gear for losing his temper, Gear makes a comment about “CCC” getting involved. Seeing Mahiru’s confusion, Gear rephrases to use their current name, C3. Mahiru is surprised that C3 is also in England, and Gear explains that C3 actually started out in England. Meaning “Conjurer Control Convention,” C3 was a group of magicians that all started with the “Count” who created the Servamps.

They start talking to Mahiru in English, but then realize he won’t understand, and they start again in Japanese (LMAO this poor kid, people really need to stop with the English already.) Gear explains that C3 wasn’t always the kind of group that was committed to coexistence. He says that lately they’ve been trying to butt in to control other magical groups and species. Yotaro remarks that Gear was already handling things fine without C3.

Yotaro says that they’re heading to a safe house out in the country, and when Kuro starts to make a comment about this particular direction they’re traveling, Gear grabs him and threatens to throw him from the car while Yotaro orders Gear to focus on finding a gas station on the map instead (lmao love it)

As Yotaro reaches into the bag he packed, he pulls out the rose and shows it to Kuro and Mahiru, who immediately are like why would you bring this thing?!, confusing Yotaro who was like, I don’t know I thought this was important to you guys?!

Yotaro assures them that the safe house should be relatively clean, since he had been there at the beginning of the month. As they go inside, Gear heads upstairs and tells Yotaro he’s going to sleep. When Yotaro tells Gear it’s already noon and they should eat lunch instead, Gear tells him to bring food up when it’s done and he’ll eat by himself in his room. Yotaro sighs and apologizes to Mahiru, insisting that Gear just needed more time because he’s shy. (I love Mahiru’s reaction, he’s just like, ??? okay, if you say so)

Cooking scene! Mahiru and Yotaro are finally getting to make that breakfast together. While they prepare the food, Mahiru asks Yotaro if he and Gear made a contract. Yotaro seems confused, and Mahiru explains that back in the city, Yotaro called out to Gear, and his voice made Gear become human again. That was what made him think that Yotaro and Gear made some kind of contract, just like he and Kuro had done.

Yotaro starts laughing, and as he apologizes to Mahiru for laughing at him, he tells him that he and Gear don’t have a contract. He insists that Gear is his friend, and it’s a strange idea to think he had to make a contract in order for them to be friends.

Mahiru is shocked as he asks why Yotaro was the only one whose voice could reach Gear that morning. Yotaro casually tells him that he has no idea, but even when you can’t hear anything else, you’ll always be able to hear the voice of a friend calling to you. Yotaro says it’s the same for Mahiru and Kuro as Mahiru blushes. He says their “contract” is more like a “promise” to always back each other up.

Yotaro samples the food they’re making, and as he offers for Mahiru to try some too, Kuro is passing by the kitchen window. He thinks back to when he and Gear shared a meal together, and Gear told Kuro that only someone he’s close with can bring him back to reality when he became a werewolf. He says that the problem with humans is that their lifespan is so short, and it’s always sad to lose a friend.

As Kuro shifts to another flashback, he tells Gear that he’s going to Japan. Gear notes that Japan is very far away, and he asks Kuro if he decided to kill the “Count” after all. (This is back when all 7 Servamps got together to decide what to do about killing their creator. Apparently, this flashback takes place immediately after that meeting.) Kuro confirms that all seven of his brothers and sisters voted on the matter. Gear tells Kuro that just because CCC wanted it done, that doesn’t mean that Kuro has to do it, since he’s not really affiliated with CCC to begin with. Kuro tells Gear that this was his own idea. Gear doesn’t look convinced, and after asking Kuro how long he’ll be away, he tells him to come right back to England once he finishes his task. There’s a hole in their roof, and Gear tells Kuro that they’re going to fix it once Kuro returns.

As present-day Kuro sees the hole in the roof of the safe house, he realizes where they are. He also realizes that the whole reason Gear went to Japan was because Kuro never returned to England, and Gear went looking for him.

When Yotaro goes to bring Gear his lunch, it’s missing from the countertop. Upstairs, Gear answers the door and is irritated, demanding to know why it’s Kuro bringing the food instead of Yotaro. Before he can start arguing, Kuro tells Gear that what he did was wrong, back when he said he would return from Japan and then never did. Gear gets annoyed and insists he never said he needed an apology, but Kuro goes on and insists that back then, he didn’t understand yet. He went through with his task and killed his creator, but he was still supposed to be a friend to Gear. As Kuro starts to apologize, Gear takes the sandwich Kuro has brought and tastes it, smiling a bit as he says he can tell Yotaro made this food.

Gear and Kuro sit together on the balcony. As they eat, Gear tells Kuro the same thing he said in the past -- that human lives are short. But this time, he adds that they’re also too long to spend it alone. He says that being by yourself is definitely easier, but it’s also too boring. As he asks if Kuro thinks so too, Kuro hears Mahiru calling to him in the distance and agrees with what Gear has said.

Yotaro and Mahiru decide to eat outside when they finally find Gear and Kuro out there. As they set up their picnic, Gear tells Kuro that having friends is important, and he’s glad that Kuro finally realizes that as well. The chapter ends with Gear insisting that Kuro made a promise to him before he left England, and he should finally fulfill that promise and fix the broken roof.

Servamp takes a break next month and returns in October for the 100th chapter!

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I thought this was an interesting chapter in quite a few ways! I love the way Tanaka draws colorful scenery. It reminded me of the artwork she did for the Servamp Quest.

Now that C3 has been brought up again by Gear (and possibly brought into the picture after his werewolf rampage,) I really would be curious to see the London headquarters. The fact that C3 originated in England makes me want to see some of their heritage and the places where they first became an organization, kind of like going on a history tour lol. It’s not surprising that C3 tries to dip its hands into everyone else’s business -- and it’s also not surprising that the other species/groups don’t seem to be happy with it. I imagine there’s some kind of agreement/pact between C3 and other magical alliances, but it’s probably strained.

Every time someone starts to speak in English, you can see the light in Mahiru’s eyes die out. He’s gonna go back to Japan and never want to visit an English-speaking country ever again, after this.

And on the matter of Yotaro being a normal human, props to tiny child Yotaro who met a werewolf and was just like, I know what I wanna do with the rest of my life. He’s just living his best life with his buddy in England. No contract or obligations, just good times. A true champion.

Had a genuine laugh when Yotaro tells Mahiru that Gear is just shy and Mahiru has no idea how to respond to that.

Having Yotaro talk about being Gear’s friend made me wonder about something. Assuming there was a legitimate way to sever a Servamp’s contract without killing the Eve, would Mahiru be willing to do that so that Kuro could take back his powers? Hearing Yotaro talking, he pretty much points out the fact that Kuro and Mahiru stay together because they want to, not necessarily because they made a contract. I think they both would choose to remain partners at this point, but if Mahiru found out that this other option could save his friends, you know he would be forced to consider it. Of course, that’s just a wandering thought of mine, I don’t really see Tanaka being like “oh guess what, you can actually sever the contract safely, hooray.”

I think the fact that Kuro apologizes to Gear is another way of showing his growth, but also, it’s probably something he has wanted to do for a long time. When they were first sent to London, it was clear that Kuro was afraid of seeing Gear again, because he knew he had messed up. I feel like Kuro still wants to be Gear’s friend, and I honestly hope that Gear and Yotaro end up sticking around, maybe even moving back to Japan.

Honestly, I have no idea what to expect for the next chapter. We still haven’t figured out how they’re going to face off against Tsubaki, and now that we know Mikuni (I’m assuming) is trying to track down Mahiru and Kuro before someone else does, that’s another situation we will probably see play out. We know that it’s getting closer to the full moon, and as far as Tsubaki holding a bunch of people’s spirits hostage, I wonder if Gear will have some kind of answer for it when they finally find out about it. No matter what the next chapter focuses on, I hope it’s juicy!

#a pretty good chapter imo #i'm so anxious to see what happens for the next chapter #servamp spoilers #servamp

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