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stinkyme · 7 months

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Hello! This is Nikolai fic I had an idea of, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :) <3

There are parts to this story that discuss death, reader is NOT suicidal, but metaphorically speaking, envying how the dead even have more freedom with their emotions than a living human. Also, they misunderstand Nikolai's idea of freedom because of lack of informations (they know he needs to die for a plan, so misinterpretation happens). There is also a part in the beginning that mentions their ability coming to an end, they are unaware of Fyodor's desire to kill all ability users, they just know they could be free from their ability. (this is very briefly mentioned, one sentence)

CW/TW: SFW, gn!reader, reader works at DoA and has an ability "Dead Souls", they don't like Nikolai at first, reader is also a bit mean/sharp/bitter at first, the story follows part of the main plot, bickering, sometimes sassy Nikolai, cursing, reader has never been in love or had friends, reader doesn't allow themselves to feel a lot due to the ability, a lot of dialogue and inner monologue, misunderstandings, Nikolai & reader prank Sigma, kinda slow burn, "friends" to enemies to lovers…?, they get into an argument, reader slaps Nikolai & uses harsh words, they make up, fluff and romance (yikes😒), if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

Also, there is a small portion where Nikolai and reader discuss his card, I am a bit of a fanatic towards tarot & regular cards, so I wanted to add that part because I think it's really interesting for Nikolai's character + it creates a bit of intimacy :) (basically, 3 of spades represents a failure in achieving a certain desire; outcome different than firstly anticipated. Usually disappointment, however, I wanted to make a little twist to it, given the nature of the fic, so his plan fails for other cheesy reasons :3)

* This mostly stems from my need for fluffy Nikolai and because I am an awful, cheesy & romantic person. (I disgust myself and you should be disgusted too)

I digress...I thought that using one of the works from an irl author to sort of...make an opposite, but similar to bsd Nikolai when it comes to freedom could be interesting. Ability isn't fully connected to a book itself, it's more my own interpretation + using the name to make it! :D Also, names are from the book, descriptions of souls in this case is different since I wanted to make a little variety :)

** When Nikolai says "So is graveyard", he isn't threatening to kill the reader, but teasing their ability and dead vibe/behavior or rather lack of excitement :3

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

this is long, I am sorry, spam how disgusting I am pls.....an AO3 link is here and in the fic, since it couldn't fit LOL

A cage of freedom || Nikolai Gogol x Reader

Dead Souls. That was your ability which you hated. It had some good parts, of course, but it mostly limited you in your own essence. Part of your ability allowed you to see other people's essence, their soul and one thing they crave the most. Different part was granting you power to see, speak to and help souls of the dead to pass on when they are ready.

It all sounds like a lovely thing to experience, except it wasn't.

Indeed, the souls could help you as well, grant you needed information, take care of your blind spots, even fight for you.

However, everything has a price.

Yours was your own soul. Not in a way people usually imagine.

Your ability didn't allow you to feel much. The dead who get stuck in the physical realm are already feeling a lot of heavy emotions - such as grief, pain, anger, sorrow and anxiety. Therefore, your own emotions had to be in constant check so you wouldn't be disturbing the souls attached to you and possibly ruin their remaining stability. With that being known, you realized that the best way is to not experience anything at all or rather, as little as possible.

You didn't allow yourself to experience fear, anxiety or sadness. You learned to detach yourself and naturally, the stories of the poor souls made your endurance much bigger. Another big rule you had was not falling in love or loving people. They can leave at any moment and completely ruin the ground beneath you which would trap those souls you take care of in the worst parts of existence - eternal suffering and no memories of their lives.

People can hurt you, they are unpredictable and dishonest, as much as you can see the part of their essence - that doesn't protect your own. It is always better not to risk it. That's what you've learned after so many years of living the way you do.

Which is why you were a perfect fit for Decay of Angels.

Someone who is rational, not emotion driven and has a flexible ability that actually grants more than one person. Fyodor was beyond intrigued, and you were beyond satisfied with their goal. You wanted your own ability to come to an end, but also, to stop the war.

Aftermaths of wars still have souls lingering to this day, too damaged to be helped and you always feel a faint sting in your heart when you can't do anything. You can't even grieve them or cry over them, just forcefully accept endless suffering like it's nothing, but an inconvenience.

You were deprived of basic human experience and the right - to feel. You were not a psychopath, nor a sociopath, no. You had to forcefully cage your own heart and limit anything that may come in or out of it. As much as you would like to say it does become easier, some days remind you that it's not.

To say you crave a friendship, a love, a passion, a sadness, an intense happiness, a heartbreak, a feeling of being alive after being surrounded by nothing but death for as long as you remember was an understatement.

Sometimes, the souls would apologize to you, they felt your desires too. They were beyond grateful for your work, but they also knew the suffering they were causing to you.

Being stripped away from a life - in a living, functioning body in which the blood runs and heart beats intensely was nothing more than a punishment. Nothing less than a cruel joke. Just a simple slavery to your own unfortunate circumstance. You were a warm flesh covering your own cage, pretending to be alive while craving the freedom of the dead. A freedom of everyone else.

Even the worst scums on earth had a right to feel, but you? No.

You were deprived of a choice even before you were given one.

When you met the rest of the Angels, you were not impressed by any, given the fact you already knew you wouldn't attach yourself. A quick glance at their essences told you everything you needed to know.

Sigma, Bram, Fukuchi, Fyodor and finally Nikolai.

A home.

A sleep. A family. It switches depending on whether he is awake or asleep.

An end to a war.

Salvation and cleansing.

A freedom.

You want to scoff. A freedom? From what?

It often mildly annoys you how people's deepest desires are either shallow, overly egoistical or simply attainable. Some people desire to change the world in the name of God, old or dead friends which is always an excuse for them to do whatever they think is right. Nobody can out-perfect the dead and you know it very well.

God is always used as a pedestal to explain human's extremities and allow them destruction in the name of higher good. Past can never not be sorrow and similarly to the dead - nothing can out-perfect it or change it. It all seems like a valid excuse simply because it can't be touched by humans. A past, the dead, a God. It's all singular and unchangeable. Therefore, it is undiscussable and immediately accepted as a valid reasoning for human's selfishness.

Some people desire a home or a family. Those are valid desires of any human and to those you can relate to.

However, for most humans it holds no meaning. They are shallow in their desires. It's often a one-way street. They want to be loved and to be safe or secure, but they aren't ready to give the same treatment back. Or simply, they try to heal their own lack of certain emotions or feelings through physically conventional things.

To make up for something they are not.

But one thing they all are. Humans are greedy. Once they attain home or a family, they desire something else. More. More. More. It's always more. They always want more of life. They never learn to appreciate what they have and the freedom of choice they were given. The very beginning of it - a freedom to desire things. It could be your own mild bitterness speaking, but given your position, it was a fair mindset to have. You were not allowed to even desire too much or too hard.

Some people desire things they already have. Those you hated the most - as much as you were allowed to hate.

They were either creepily shallow in a way such as - desiring more money when they already have everything they could possibly need. Desiring more partners; more love or passion when they already have a person who is completely devoted to them. Wanting more excitement, more happiness, more friends - everything they already had, but didn't appreciate, or could achieve without breaking a sweat.

A freedom?

There were people who desired freedom for good reasons. Abusive marriages, families or relationships. Being disabled or mentally ill. Being sick. Being overly pressured. Suffering things such as slavery, sex trafficking and similar. They desire freedom too and you know that. You don't speak of them, and you are aware of your own ungratefulness sometimes.

But, human tragedies and pains are not to be compared because one will always seem smaller than the other, but emotions on each side will always remain. Desire on each side will always remain. Helplessness will always remain.

They will connect through their despair which humans are either awfully good or bad at.

You are the bad one. You can only connect to the dead, and even then, your input and output must be limited. Your heart shall not open more than an inch. If you could stitch it to be shut closed - you would.

But you can't. Because certain empathy is needed for your ability to work. Not too much or too little of anything. To some it may seem like balance, but in reality it's torture.

Either feel everything or nothing at all. Feel as much as you need to feel.

Because experiencing life in low, limited measurement is like a soul is sick. Experiencing life in rare tea spoons of what it means to be living. Get a drop of water when there is an endless, clean ocean in front of you. A few breaths of being alive in-between what seems like endless suffocation.

It's awful and excruciating. It feels tightening. It feels like your soul is constipated to say the least. It feels torturous.

Therefore, quite frankly, you can't help but experience a small jolting of nerves when you witness someone like him. Someone who seems so obnoxious, so loud, so out there, so shamelessly being themself. Someone who has all the freedom, who isn't bound by the dead, by the living, by the suffering, by his own ability. Hell, even listening about his ability makes you want to puke.

"My ability grants me to store things in my coat right here! I can also create portals and transfer my body parts or things. Pretty cool, isn't it?!" he is twirling around while he speaks, his voice enthusiastic.

"A true ability for a true magician!" he claps his hands before bowing down. As if he did something amazing.

You don't even say a word, a faint disgust on your face.

"Oh~, you don't seem impressed," his voice softens.

"How about now?!" he transports his hand from his coat to the other member named Sigma, squishing his cheek. Sigma yelps, giving him an irritated look.

"Could you stop that?!" he yells as he unsuccessfully tries to slap Nikolai's hand away as he reverts it back quickly, giggling.

"Interesting." you say in an obviously disinterested tone. Nikolai looks at you, his expression confused for a moment.

"Ah, sarcasm! Got it!" he snaps his fingers before pointing at you.

"What about you, though? What's your ability?" he asks with a little smile on his face.

"I can speak to the dead." you deadpan and both men's expressions change to a slight shock.

"Really?" Nikolai asks, a bit intrigued.

"Really. I can communicate with them and help them cross once they are ready." you nod, your whole demeanor calm.

"That's spooky!" he says in a lower, but still expressive tone, covering his mouth with his hand that was further covered by the coat.

"Not at all. It's depressing, but rewarding at times." you reply in a casual tone.

"Hm...still, quite spooky to me." he replies in a quieter tone.

"To each its own." you shrug. The silence fills the room, feeling a bit awkward, but as if it could affect you.

"So...are there any dead people with us now?" Sigma whispers.

"Quite a few actually. Around five at the moment." you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.

"Your whisper woke them, they seem to be quite angry with you. They will begin to hunt soon." you give him a sly gaze.

"Why?! I didn't do anything! How do I-"

"I am kidding. They don't care." you say in a slightly playful tone, calming an anxious man down. He would never be able to have your ability, it's entertaining to witness.

"So you do have a sense of humor after all! We will make a great pair." Nikolai giggles at your teasing. He sits next to you and you feel the disgust climb up your throat.

Naturally, you tone it down immediately. For your own and the souls' sake.

"I don't think so." you raise your eyebrow at him, lips curling down a bit. Nikolai gives you a slightly confused expression.

"If I leave now, will they follow me?" Sigma whispers again and it makes you sigh out.

"No, they won't follow you. Unless you are the reason they are bound in the physical realm or I order them, they won't care about you." your voice is comforting. You understand people's anxiety around you and rarely blame them. It's better than those who cling onto you. Like this damn clown.

Sigma nods, letting a little sigh out from relief. He waves to you and leaves the room, you assume to the Casino he was in charge of.

"Do you want to prank him later?" Nikolai giggles happily, elbowing your arm. You want to rip his arm apart, but remain calm - as always.

"Not interested." you slowly get up, making a leave of your own.

You stop for a moment, turning around to face him. Nikolai's expression seems innocent and dumb-founded.

"One more thing though. I can also see the souls of people and their biggest desire. Quite frankly, yours disgusts me. So, if you would be so kind as to stay away from me unless it's a work thing." you give him a polite smile, regardless of your voice being sharp. You open the door and leave the room to go to your own before a mission.

......Continue on AO3

#nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol bsd #nikolai gogol x reader fluff #nikolai gogol x you #nikolai gogol x y/n #bsd nikolai #bsd imagines #bsd fic #bsd fluff #bsd romance #nikolai gogol fluff

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kiwisbell · 8 months

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The Hitman's Guide to Getting the Girl: Chapter 8 (Conclusion) [dave york x f!reader]

It's just another job, until Dave York decides to kidnap an enemy’s wiseass daughter. It’s just another job, until he falls in love.

series masterlist

status: complete

chapter 8 summary: Being alive with you.

pairing: dave york x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings for entire fic: kidnapping, murder, violence, the world being horrible to women, reader having a very terrible sense of self-preservation, unprotected piv, oral sex (m and f receiving), dave york finding his second calling as a pussy-eating god, pining, possessive sex, jealousy, daddy issues, (stockholm syndrome?), dirty talk, actually filthy talk, hitmen and politicians, revenge, scary man with a soft spot for his woman, philosophical foreplay, tramp stamp worship (you'll see), a little sprinkle of breeding kink if you look hard enough, obsessive behaviour, anal fingering, anal sex, implied age gap, light dom/sub vibes, light bondage

tags and warnings for this chapter: breaking and entering, violence, murder, guns, light angst, minor burn injury, reader feels neglected, dave makes amends, pussy-eating god dave york, anal fingering, anal sex, lube, light bondage, light sensory deprivation, very protective dave, soft dave, unprotected piv (you know the drill besties), dirty talk, biting, the last of my pretentious literary references (for now), happy ending (it's me what do you expect)

word count: ~ 7.8k

i am deeply sorry for the delay on the very last chapter smh... i wanted it to be as good as possible for y'all and got caught up in my own head. nevertheless, here is the conclusion to THGTGTG, and i cannot thank those who have been reading this series enough for your love and support on every part. i could cry forever about you. and maybe i will!

chapter 8: one deep breath out from the sky

SEPTEMBER

There’s a storm outside tonight.

The warm breeze strips the leaves from the trees and scatters them from its palm with one strong heave of its lungs. The rain raps its knuckles on the windows, demanding entry, the thunder rolling from one end of the city to the other. Streets are washed clean with rainwater and the slick polluting oil by the river glimmers in the colours of the rainbow.

Dave lies awake on his back, his knuckles making idle, gentle patterns up and down your spine, keeping you close to him while you sleep. You lie on your stomach, half of your face buried in the pillow, your lips blissfully parted and your muscles relaxed under his touch. You're the picture of serenity, and he keeps his head turned so he can look at you.

One night, months ago, you kept him up, getting him to talk about his job in the Army, and his disillusionment with the real world when he returned home. He told you about lying on rooftops for days until his back peeled, and he told you about moulting, coming into his new skin every time he assumed a new position, a new country—each mission a brand-new way to discover things he hated about himself, and some things he liked.

Today, his ears remain fine-tuned to the slightest of sounds. It’s why he can hear the faint beeping in his open office from upstairs. A slow, rhythmic, high-pitched chirping that doesn’t stir you whatsoever from sleep, but that has his head whipping toward the direction of the noise.

Someone is tripping the security system.

Dave expertly slips onto his feet without disturbing the comforter, though you shift closer to the warmer side of the bed with a sleepy sound of protest. He mourns being forced to leave when all he wants to do is wrap himself around you, but the hair at the back of his neck prickles, and he chances a glance out the bedroom window, pushing it briefly open.

No cars parked outside that aren’t always there. Nothing amiss. Except—

The sound. He assigned a different alarm to each camera, memorised them all, mapped them in his head. Someone is breaking in through the garage.

He grabs a spare .45 from its hiding place in the walk-in closet and screws an Obsidian suppressor onto the end. If he can do this without waking you, that will be best.

Dave dresses quickly, sweatpants and a T-shirt, not bothering with shoes but slipping on some socks for added silence. Downstairs, all seems quiet. The lights are off, the doors locked, the driveway empty. But inside his office, the alarm trills away.

His gaze sweeps over each camera for slight movements, indicators of misplaced objects, but there is nothing. Or, rather, everything is as it was.

So who is in his home?

Too late to stop it, he hears another alarm trip.

There is no more adrenaline. His heart stops.

The upstairs window. He forgot to close it.

His bedroom window.

I’ve got no use for a world that doesn’t have you.

It rings true. Nothing has ever been truer. He can reach out for it and close his fingers around it.

Terror. This is what it feels like to be afraid.

The man comes stumbling down the stairs—stumbling, clumsy, because you’re putting up one hell of a fight. Dave watches in horror. This is, undoubtedly, triggering some old instinct in you, biting and scratching and kicking at the man who holds you across the shoulders, the barrel of a gun to your temple. You scream and you hiss, demanding things like Let me go and Fucking let go of me, you fucking sick bastard and Don’t fucking touch me and Dave is so horrified that he cannot move.

One cannot truly witness the past. But now, here, he is witnessing exactly what it is like to see you relive every one of those nights someone has stolen you from your bed and taken you away.

Some sick bastard broke into Dave York’s home and stole what is most precious from him. This is a transgression that can seek no repentance, find no grave but a plot made ready in hell. He feels himself scowling, raising the gun—

You draw first blood. Your teeth tear a chunk of flesh from his arm, and he howls, pushing you down the final three steps.

You don’t quite catch yourself right, landing hard on your hip, your head smacking hard against the tile. One look into your dazed eyes and Dave sees fucking red.

The man has the balls to point his gun at you, lying at the bottom of the stairs and attempting to push yourself upright, blinking hard. Your mouth is bloody, and you spit out pinkish saliva. His tiles run red.

“Pretty girl, York,” seethes Vincent Gallo, shaking out the arm you sank your teeth into. “Pretty and soft. Cameras don’t do her justice.”

This is it. Dave’s final conquest.

He promised himself long ago that he would not stop until Vincent Gallo was dealt with. He has committed the cardinal sin, after all.

All you’re wearing is a little silk nightgown, and you must be so cold lying on that floor. There’s a small trickle of blood on your temple and he worries about a concussion with the way you squint up at the man who’s holding the gun to your head.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, spitting another glob of bloody saliva onto his polished shoes. You may not be that hurt, Dave realises. “You fucking cunt.”

Gallo looks down at you for only a second, but a second is all Dave needs. He takes the shot.

It strikes wide; he’s afraid of hitting you. But it does its job: knocking Gallo off-balance, red spiralling outward on his shoulder beneath the crisp white shirt he’s wearing. Somewhere beside the bannister, his gun clatters to the floor, clip ejecting. He staggers down the stairs, and you kick out at him, screaming your vocal chords raw, primal and fucking fed up.

Because he’s smart enough to know that being in proximity to you offers a certain degree of protection, Gallo goes for you first: dragging you upright by your hair, putting your body in front of him.

You let out a soft cry, trying to grab for him, but he pins your arms to your sides, and all you can do is look helplessly at Dave, who no longer has a clear shot.

“Dave, just shoot the goddamn gun,” you say through your teeth, your eyes bleeding with tears as your captor yanks your head back.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spits. “Your boyfriend doesn’t get to come after me and my family without consequences. And you’re both going to learn that.”

“You don’t get to come after me without consequences,” you reply. “You should have learned that by now.”

“She’s right,” offers Dave. “You picked the wrong girl.”

Gallo sneers, pushing you right into Dave’s path as he drops his shoulder and tackles Dave to the ground. It knocks the wind out of him, sending him down hard, but Dave manages to hook his leg around the other man’s and turn them around, pinning his knee to Gallo’s femoral artery. His own gun is too far away to reach without letting the asshole go free.

“Baby, run,” grunts Dave, seeing you scramble to your feet out of the corner of his eye.

“No, baby, don’t,” mocks Gallo, baring his teeth as he brings his fist to Dave’s face. The blow catches him on the jaw, knocking his teeth together. Dave growls, digging his knee into Gallo’s thigh and making him seethe in pain, before throwing a punch to his face. Then another. Then another.

Knuckles split and well with blood. The tension in his shoulders eases with every blow that strikes home, relinquishing all his restraint and finishing the fucking job. He cannot speak. He cannot think. He only sees: the face he's studied for so long, the man who's eluded him for months, has arrived at his doorstep. In a way, Dave feels grateful.

Vincent Gallo has volunteered his life. Dave won't miss the opportunity to take it.

But Dave makes a mistake through his misty-red rage, glancing to the side to see where you've gone. To see if you’re watching him. Gallo thrusts his palm upward and bloodies Dave’s nose, using his new leverage to roll them over.

Gallo’s face is a pulpy mass of purple flesh and crimson and the shine of new bruises. His nose is crooked and he spits his own blood onto Dave’s face, snarling like a rabid animal. The last desperate, dying breath of a condemned man.

The fast, quiet thwip of a suppressed shot. Blood blooming on Dave’s shirt like a flower’s first awakening. Blood that does not belong to him. It's warm. Sticky. Will forever stain.

Gallo slumps over, his face ashen, his grip on Dave’s collar slackening. You drop the gun like it’s on fire.

Your eyes burn and shed tears that turn black. Your trembling hand goes to your mouth, but you only smear the Italian’s blood across your face.

Dave gets to his feet and picks up the gun you dropped. He gently cups your face, urging you to look at him. “Sweetheart,” he says softly. “It's over.”

“I…” You point vaguely in Gallo’s direction. “Did I kill him?”

This will not do.

“No.” Dave turns his head, fires the gun, and shoots the man’s brains through the back of his neck. “I killed him.”

“Oh. Good.”

Your eyes are a doe’s, wide and mortified, pupils pinpricks despite the low light. “Dave, my head hurts. I didn't realise it until now, but it fucking hurts.”

“Baby, I know.” He gently guides your head to the side and examines your wound, wincing at the sight of your blood flowing from your temple. “We’re gonna take a drive, okay? Get you some help.”

“Hospital?” you wager.

Not a fucking chance. Hospitals prioritise humanity; he needs to go somewhere that will prioritise precisely whom he chooses. No questions.

Gravely, he shakes his head. You sigh through your nose and squeeze his hand. “I didn't think so.”

He lifts your joined hands. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Don't be an asshole. I need my beauty sleep, Dave York, and it's two in the morning.”

Outside, the storm quiets, the time between the lightning strikes and the thunderclaps stretching wide. “You're the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, “even bloody.”

You roll your eyes and apparently regret it, grasping Dave’s arm. “Okay,” you say weakly. “But I’m napping on the way.”

He’s not going to let you fall asleep, but he nods, wordless, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You did so well, sweetheart. Did exactly what you needed to.”

Your eyes flutter shut and you let yourself breathe in the scent of iron and cologne. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

NOVEMBER

It starts when you unleash your temper on Dave for the first time.

For the past couple months, you've been working with your publicist and agent to sort through the multitude of presses asking for interviews and your lawyer to discuss disputing your father’s will. Not much has moved; all you've managed to accomplish is effectively withdrawing public support. He still has toes in many different ponds that don't rely on goodwill or reputation. But it's something.

You've been tired, irritable, and on top of that, planning a wedding. It's no wonder that you're mad when a week passes and Dave hasn't fucked you.

Your body is humming at a low frequency of restlessness, unable to stay still for long between meetings. Dave has been working around the clock, shut away in his office or out spying on some assholes who may want him dead. When he is home, he misses meals, neglects sleep, and rarely emerges from behind his office door to give you a glimpse of him.

Last night, you poked your head inside his office with your whiteboard held up for Dave to read. DINNER? it read.

He just shook his head and looked down, returning to his books while on the phone with Kovac or Ari or both. You sat alone at the long dining table and poked the food around your plate until it was cold.

You tried to understand. You really tried. He's a busy man and he's working hard to keep you safe. He's trying to be good to you, and sometimes, he gets caught up in his own head trying to fix things.

But you're nothing if not needy when it comes to Dave, and his constant rejections are beginning to sting.

You sent Barry home for the night so you could try your hand at a new recipe. You stir a little bit aggressively under the guise of trying not to burn the garlic, your knuckles taut around the spoon. You're on the phone with Kelly, your planner.

“I don't think peonies are going to mesh well with lilies. The shapes will clash.”

Staring into your bubbling risotto, watching the colours bleed into one another, you hum a faint Uh-huh.

“And as far as colour, it's best to stick with white, but we’ll put some blush pink in to match the rest of the palette.”

“Mhm.” The risotto is beginning to thicken, puffing up like a pastry, close to the rim of the pot. You register it but keep stirring, pouring in the white wine and taking a swig for yourself.

“We have bridesmaids’ dresses on order from Fran’s, and the piano player is requesting a list of selections.”

“Good, good.”

You blink hard as a stinging pressure builds behind your nose. The gentle roiling of the substance in the pot smells sharp enough to prick at your tear ducts. Your eyes feel dry and your back aches.

It is decidedly not risotto. Risotto is thick and creamy and this is browned, burnt, boiling over. You can only watch with tears brimming as it spills onto the burner and whisper a broken, “Talk to you later, Kelly,” into your phone.

Some of the boiling liquid spills onto your leg and you stagger backward, staring through blurred eyes.

“Shit,” says a voice behind you.

Dave is here, quick to shut off the element and guide you away from the stove. “Jesus, baby, what the hell are you doing?”

He notices the burn on your leg first, dropping to one knee at your feet and frowning deep. “Fuck.”

You sniffle. “Reminds me of when you proposed.”

Dave squeezes your hip as he examines the flesh for any signs of blistering. “Yeah?”

“You told me I was beautiful,” you say weakly, your throat tightening, “and you said that… that life was a bad fable before we met. Because I was the first person who taught you anything worthwhile about living.”

Dave swallows thickly, dropping his forehead to your thigh. “Yeah,” he says gruffly.

“You made me take off the ring just so you could put it on yourself,” you croak. The tears are close now. “Now you do the same thing every morning.”

Dave seems to know where this is going, his hands gently rubbing up and down the back of your leg. “Yeah, baby. I do.”

Your bottom lip wobbles and you stare at the ceiling like it's going to close the floodgates. “You didn't do it this morning.”

Dave swears into your skin, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “Why?” he demands. “Why didn't I do it?”

“Because you were gone when I woke up.”

“Why are you cooking dinner?” he asks.

“Because I needed a distraction.”

Dave shakes his head, holding onto your leg like it's grounding him in the earth. “Why?”

“Because you're my husband,” you say softly, your chest burning and your throat pushing on your vocal chords, “and you haven't been around.”

“And?”

“And I’m planning our wedding alone.”

Dave squeezes your thigh, like you're getting somewhere. “You gonna burn down the kitchen to get my attention?”

“It worked, didn't it?”

“Sweetheart.” He looks up at you, eyes honey-gold under the warm chandelier. It’s desperation. It's guilt. “You're mad,” he rasps. “Be mad.”

Your chest trembles and your breaths come out heavy, and you're sobbing, sinking to your knees, letting him pull you onto his lap and wrap your legs around his hips, your arms around his neck. Hands caress your back, up and down, shifting the fabric of your nightgown. You cry.

Wedding. Your father. Vincent Gallo. Cameras and flashing lights and shutters. The quiet hum of night. The too-loud press of daytime on your ears. The fear and the terror and the needles they inject you with. Sunlight. Wax wings. You've been flying too close. You fall, wrapped up in his arms, shedding the extra weight from your back and breathing in. Out. In. Out.

It isn't always about the next victory. It isn't about chasing the next deal, burying the next body, screwing over the next associate. It isn't about flying, and it never has been. Neither of you have seen it until now.

It's about this. The cold kitchen floor and the scrape of his buttons against your belly and the warm, rough hands on your back. It's about your twin heartbeats, lazily encircling one another. It's about the tears soaking his skin, hot and salty, his mouth on your temple. It's about the burning risotto on the counter.

It's about the life you've made with him. The life you're going to make. The matching bands you’ll wear. You and him.

“Fuck you, Dave York,” you whisper, “for missing this dinner, and for all the dinners you’re going to miss.”

He nods, his fingers tracing every one of your vertebrae on the way up. Encouraging. Begging. He wants you to be angry with him. So you will.

“Fuck you for leaving me alone all week to plan our wedding, for locking yourself up in your office all day and night, for forgetting to put my ring on my finger. Fuck you for neglecting me.” Your restless stomach begins to settle as you inhale the scent of him for the first time all day.

Dave’s mouth trails downward until he finds your jawline. You can feel his lashes tickle your cheek. “I’m your husband,” he says. “It's my job to be good to you. I haven't been good to you, baby.”

You huff, clutching him tighter to you. You’ve missed the feeling of his strong arms around you, his broad chest pressed against yours. “Masochist,” you mumble, the anger slipping into your pocket, muffled and subdued in the wake of your need for closeness.

“Yeah, I am,” he says, his hand cupping your cheek. “Tell me what else.”

“I burned my risotto,” you sniffle. “I can't cook for shit.”

Dave wipes a tear away just as it falls from your lashes. On your lower back, you feel his thumb circling the sun of your tattoo. “I know you've got one more in you,” he says softly. “Give it to me.”

You give his chest one feeble shove and push the rest of your anger into him. It fizzles into the air and evaporates. “I’ve had to touch myself all week, and I haven't been able to come.”

He nods, sucking your anger into his bone marrow, assuming control of it, savouring its citrusy taste. His hands cannot grab enough of you, cannot pull you close enough, cannot abscond with the guilt. He will swallow it down and let it bloom in his stomach. He will mend your wounds and grow flowers on the rot. He will take every blackened piece of you that resents him and replace it with sunlight.

He wants to see honey pouring from his fingers when he touches you. He wants to crawl into your velvet skin and warm it from the inside-out.

You should never know what it tastes like to know pain, and he has put the rotting fruit directly between your teeth.

“Have you missed me?” he whispers, pushing it into you, his nose crushed against your throat, his lips leaving scorch marks. Every touch electrifies; you never want to forget how it feels to be this near to him.

You nod your head, threading your fingers through his tousled hair and fixing him to you. He expels a puff of air from his lips, like the first gasp after breaching the water’s surface, and between your bodies, his cock begins to swell against your belly, trapped in his pants. It’s how you realise he’s missed you just as much.

“I’m supposed to treat you nice.” He kisses your neck, the hollow of your throat, urging your chin upward to give him better access. “I’m supposed to make you happy, keep you warm, kill for you.”

“You have killed for me.” Your voice has softened, mellow and still crackling with the aftermath of your meltdown.

“It’s not enough,” he says, gently pushing his palm into your back so your hips roll along his. “You should never lift a finger to keep yourself satisfied. That's my job. I haven't been doing my job, sweet girl. And you're not going to let me off the hook.”

You gasp at the feeling of his hardness on your clit, barely clothed in a scrap of pink lace. Grasping his shoulder, you begin to grind against him, seeking your own pleasure, assisted by his guiding hand.

Dave looks up at you, your lidded eyes and your parted lips, cursing himself for how long he's let this go on. He's been consumed by tracking the remaining Gallos, obsessed with their every move as they go about their business, chasing their destinations before they arrive there. He's being proactive. He's ensuring nobody tries to come after him for revenge.

Despite all he’s done, Dave York’s greatest crime is neglecting his own little green patch of paradise. He's twisted the apple from the tree and left you to assume the weight of the fallout. But he is no Adam.

Your face is buried in his neck as you grind on his erection, making yourself feel good, taking out all your frustrations on his body while he ensures your needy clit gets all the attention it deserves. He watches his crotch gradually darken as you rub your wetness onto him, his teeth grinding for a taste of you. All indication he gives you of his desire is a rhythmic pulse of his hands on your hips.

“Is this enough for you, baby?” he asks, nibbling your earlobe. “Can you come like this?”

You whimper, your shoulders tense under his touch as he slides his hand between the blades. “Need you. Need you inside me. Want you to stretch me out on your big cock.” Your teeth tease his throat and he grunts, bucking up instinctively against your clit. “Wanna be your good girl.”

He knows precisely what your body is telling him, the way you melt into him, wiggle your hips down on his erection. “Wanna forget?” he says. “Wanna let go, sweetheart?”

You pull away and look into his dark eyes, the tick of his jaw, the uncompromising way he holds you firm against him. “Am I a fable?” you ask, cupping the back of his neck, your voice sweet and soft.

He drops your forehead down to his. “You’re more than anyone has words for.”

Language does not suit you. Language diminishes and classifies. It cannot identify the radiance that he sees emitting from you, nor the precise colour of your eyes.

“Not even Icarus?” you whisper, your voice breaking into a half-sob, half-mirthless laugh. “Not Sisyphus? Not Anne or Persephone?”

“Those are stories,” says Dave. “We don't need stories.”

“Because this is real?” Your hands, warm and soft on his skin, sunspots.

He takes your hand and removes your engagement ring, only to slide it back onto your finger.

“Because this is real.”

Your lips ghost over his, resting his restraint. “Then take me to bed, and make it up to me.”

The lights are off in the bedroom. He flicks on the lamps on the nightstands because he wants to see the light shift over your body. Dave begins slowly, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and yanking his tie loose, backing you toward the bed.

He hums when he crowds your space, dipping his head to inhale your sweet perfume and pressing soft kisses to the unwavering warmth of your skin. Your collar bones jut out as your breathing shudders, your heart kicking up at his gentle treatment.

“So soft,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, hands bunching the fabric of your little nightgown. His lips leave warm imprints on your throat, your shoulders, soothing the tension in your bones and letting your body deflate. Closing your eyes, you roll your head back to let him litter your neck with kisses. “So beautiful. Should never have let you go alone so long. Should be fucked properly, every goddamn day.”

You moan softly when he sucks at the spot under your ear, and Dave puts his hands on your lower back, steadying you while he walks you against the bed. Your knees hit the edge and nearly give out, but he's there to catch you. “Arms up,” he says. You obey, your nipples stiff through the silk, your body shivering as Dave lifts the shift over your head and exposes your body to the cool breeze blowing in through the open window.

“Do you want control tonight?” he asks you. He's gazing down at you, eyes black with desire, withheld action. You shake your head, and he smirks, his hand cupping the back of your neck. “I know, sweet girl. I know what you need. Hold out your hands.”

He lifts the tie from around his neck and slips the fabric around your wrists. Twice, three times it loops, until you can't pry your hands apart, and Dave gives them a gentle tug. “On the bed,” he says.

Obedience shapes your stride, your eyes liquid, pretty pink panties blooming with a dark wet spot. You shuffle backward on the mattress with your hands bound in front of you, kneeling with your knees tucked beneath you. Dave admires the picture for a moment, removing his watch, his shoes, setting the silver Cartier band on the nightstand. You glow in this light, flushed with arousal and want and the slight desperation that accompanies a week without sex. His perfect, beautiful, spoiled girl, tied up like a gift all for him. But this time, it’s not about him.

Rubbing your thighs together, you watch him stalk his way around the bed, your body gently leaning toward him. Subconscious: the pull toward him. Your need is becoming fierce, hot and tight in your stomach, tensing your body. He stares, tilting his head to the side. A sculpture of marble, carefully moulded to impeccable likeness. He will smooth over the accumulated cracks, restore the vision, preserve you for centuries to come. People will write stories, paint murals, compose music. All will sing the song of you.

He’s at your side now, clicking his tongue and giving you more directions. Arms up, pretty girl. Hold onto the headboard. You follow, your body stretching out like a lounging cat, and he loops the remaining fabric of his tie through the slats. He checks in (Too tight?) and you can only lick your lips, push out your chest: Please touch me.

Dave hums in acknowledgement, kneeling on the bed between your bare legs and lifting your ankle to his mouth. The soft kisses to the bone make you shiver. There is no reprieve from his gaze; it captures you from all corners of the room. He gets off on holding all the power. You know he does, the bastard. But it feels so good to let your body melt into the mattress, no longer in charge of your own pleasure, giving him the space he needs to make amends.

Dave York apologises with his body. You can forgive with yours, too.

You sigh, your eyes drooping, as he leaves open-mouthed kisses all the way up your leg, hooking it up over his shoulder when he gets to the soft, sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Mmm,” you manage, the press of his lips somehow more vibrant without the reciprocity, without your hands greedily grabbing for him. He’s indulging, tasting you the way he hasn’t in a week, closing his eyes as his teeth graze your veins. You’re sweet and honeyed and he’s so fucking stupid for letting himself get consumed by anything else.

He buries his face so fully into the meat of your thigh that it crushes his nose, and you gasp at the feeling of him sucking the blood to the surface. “Dave.”

He grunts, nipping his way to your pussy, clothed by a wet little scrap of lace. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose against your thigh, imparting his scent once more.

Whimpering, you shake your head. You want to see him eat your pussy, his big brown eyes as he locks them to you. But Dave bites your thigh and you squeak. “Don’t make me blindfold you, sweet girl.”

Reluctantly, you squeeze your eyes shut, suppressing the pull to disobey, to watch. Dave’s mouth does not find your pussy right away. He starts over again, kissing all the way down your other leg. You make a halfhearted noise of bewilderment, and he shushes you, ignoring the insistent dig of your heel into his back and continuing to make you squirm.

Once his warm, wet mouth finishes lavishing attention on your other thigh, he departs once more, earning a frustrated whine of his name. “Mmm, needy,” he says, watching the way you push your tits toward the sound of his voice, your hips canting toward the press of his mouth. Dave sits back on his haunches between your thighs, caressing your hips as he admires the faint sheen of sweat on your body from all your fruitless exertion. “Being such a good girl, keeping your eyes closed like I told you, even though you’re mad at me.”

“Please, honey,” you beg, trying to pull him closer. “Baby, please. Let me feel you.”

Fuck, he's missed this. He’s missed your pleas, your soft body wrapped around him, the world outside dissipating to white noise. He's missed being called things like honey and baby when neither of them should apply. He's missed being your pleasure.

You tug against your restraints as Dave lowers himself in front of your pussy, a long, low whine escaping your mouth. “Just a taste,” he says, as if to himself. His hands squeeze your thighs, and his eyes flicker up toward you, your gaze still shuttered. “Just let me kiss it better.”

You writhe when he licks your clit through your panties, tasting the tang of the wet spot. “Nnnh,” is vaguely what he hears from your lips.

“Let me taste you, sweet girl. Just relax. Make you feel good.” He hooks his finger in your panties and pulls them aside, licking a slow stripe through your slit. You shudder, resisting the urge to open your eyes.

You're so fucking wet, so warm and supple under his tongue, that he grinds his hips into the mattress to relieve the ache in his pants. Jesus, he’s a real asshole for neglecting this all week. He thinks about you touching yourself until you cry out in frustration and fall asleep unsatisfied, alone, and he hates himself. He’s jealous of your fingers for touching what he hasn't. Fuck—this is his job. This is his calling.

Dave wraps his arms around your thighs, securing them over his wide shoulders, keeping you spread open for him. You can’t escape this way, though you make an effort to wriggle your hips under his mouth. He doesn't let you, splaying his palm over your lower belly. The pressure sparks white on your eyelids.

Dave licks you again, building the delicious tautness in your core, his tongue slow and assured. He takes his time, knowing you can't touch him, guide him, grab his hair. Seeing your body like this has him leaking into his pants: your tits pushing out as your chest heaves, your eyes closed and your head tossed back, wrists bound to the headboard. Your engagement ring shimmers whenever you flex your hands. There is no belonging for Dave if it isn’t here, between your legs.

His tongue eases your folds apart until your pussy is slathered in his saliva, your needy pearl awaiting his attention. He groans at the sound of your soft moan when he presses a kiss to your clit. Dave leaves your mouth, velvety and pitiful. Please…

His dick twitches in his pants and he delves instinctively, holding you tighter, sucking your clit into his mouth. You cry out sharply, the pleasure striking your bones. Your heart is skittering and your hips ache, and there is no reprieve from the way he fixes his mouth to you, willingly drowning in your body.

His hands feel like they're everywhere. Hands tied and eyes closed, your remaining senses are notched up high, his fingers on your skin prickling the hair at the back of your neck, his cologne poisoning your blood, the languid drags of his tongue resonating all the way up to your brain. Dave’s hand leaves your belly and slides up to your breast, kneading you like dough as he crushes his nose to your clit and licks into your hole.

“Oh! Fuck!” Dave pinches your nipple, tasting you deeply and leisurely. Your brows are drawn together in the middle, your lips parted around his name or total gibberish. Panting, sweating, begging—

His shoulders surge forward, your thighs bending back toward your chest, and you feel something prod your hole. You gasp, feeling him breach your entrance, collecting your wetness onto his fingers. He grunts against your clit when you clench around him, but he doesn't stay inside your cunt for long.

“Dave!” you cry out as you feel his finger circle your puckered asshole. “Oh, my…”

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your clit. “Gonna make you feel good.”

His deep, rumbling voice helps you relax, your body melting for him. You’re safe in his hands. He’s good to you. He always will be.

You choke at the first intrusion, your heels digging into Dave’s back as his finger stretches you out, lubricated by your own wetness. He rears back slightly to watch himself push inside you, only to spit a glob of saliva straight onto your asshole. You mewl like a goddamn cat and the sound goes straight to his dick.

He shuffles onto his knees and hastily unbuckles his belt with one hand, shucking it off and away so he can pull out his hard cock. Your hand bucks against the finger that’s opening up your asshole, the sound of the metal belt buckle hitting the floor striking your skull.

“Open your eyes,” he says, easing you onto your side and hauling your leg up against his chest. “Watch me take you like this.”

You blink your eyes open, blinded briefly by the spots of yellow lamplight, only to find him looming over you, two fingers now stuffing your asshole and his leaking dick resting on your puffy clit. “Please,” you sob, “fuck me. Fill me up, Dave, please. I need it so badly, I’ll die.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, guiding the head of his cock through your wet slit, coming away glistening. “My poor spoiled girl. Hasn't been touched for a week. I’ll touch you enough for a fuckin' lifetime. Now, behave for me, and scream.”

Your fingers flex as he slips the head inside you, and you hide your face in your arm, biting your own flesh. Dave growls, displeased, guiding his hips forward until he’s balls-deep inside you. Your resulting moan pitches high, your stomach tensing as if you're trying to keep him inside, keep him flush to you the way he is now. Dave’s fingers slowly thrust inside your ass at the same pace, establishing rhythm. You can't breathe. You can't think.

“Look. At. Me,” he says through gritted teeth, his hips punching hard into your thigh with every thrust, kissing your womb with your leg lifted high on his chest. “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You choke on your moans, your body shifting up the bed as he takes you hard and deep, struggling to meet his gaze through your bleary eyes. But he seems satisfied, enjoying the cock-drunk look on your face, baring his teeth and grinding deep inside your cunt.

“Yeah, baby, you like that,” he says, keeping your ass nice and stuffed with two fingers, filling you the way you deserve to be filled. “You like having both your holes filled, hmm, pretty girl? You like me stretching out your tight little ass?”

“Ngggh, yes! Yes! Oh, God, it feels so good!” You curl your fingers around the headboard. “I’m so close, I’m… you're gonna make me…”

He knows—can feel the pulsing rhythm of your pussy trying to suck him deeper, the instinct to pull the cum out of his balls. “Get my dick nice and wet, baby. Gotta keep it warm inside your tight ass. Come for me.”

His filthy words have your eyes rolling back, your leg kicking out as you come, fucked sideways and held up only by his hands and the tie around your wrists. He groans at the feeling of how tightly you squeeze him, your thighs trembling around him, soft flesh giving way to pleasure, to his touch. He fucks you gently through it, letting you come down, your asshole suffocating his fingers while your pussy soaks his length

“Thaaaat’s it,” he says, littering kisses all over your calf, wherever he can reach. “My beautiful girl.”

“It feels so good,” you whimper, wiggling your hips against him. “‘m so full.”

“That's right,” he says softly, giving your inner thigh a playful smack. Your body jolts, butter under his touch. “That what you needed, honey?”

“More, please,” you croak. Dave’s heart knocks against his ribs at how fucking sweet you look; eyes pleading, sweat glistening on your brow, lips forming a cute little pout that has him following your orders without thinking.

He pulls out of you, hard cock still bobbing, coated in your juices, and gently removes his fingers from your asshole to open the nightstand for the lube. When he’s behind you again, Dave shucks off his shirt, now stained with the efforts of his exertion, and manhandles you onto your knees.

You squeak, your chest dipping until it's smushed into the mattress, unable to hold yourself up thanks to your bound hands. Dave admires the shape of your back as it bows, bending over you to nip at the tattoo between its dimples.

The cool sting of the lube on your tight hole has you squirming, but Dave runs his hand up and down your hip while the other spreads the gel around your rim, dipping three fingers inside once more to keep you spread wide.

Here's the problem: Dave is big. His girth is impressive and his length equally so, ridged with veins, curved slightly to the left when it gets hard. Now that it is hard, you get a little worried that he won’t fit—and then you get more than a little determined to make sure it fits.

“Relax,” he says into your skin, kissing your tattoo before he rises, removing his slick fingers from your ass. You try, closing your eyes and focusing on the gentle caress of your hip, but when the tip prods your hole and wrenches it open, forming a tight seal that’s as unrelenting as it is pleasurable, you gasp, gooey and clicking with drool. He’s much, much bigger than three fingers.

“Oh, God.”

“I know, sweet girl. I know it’s big. Breathe, nice and slow. You’re gonna feel so good. Gonna fuckin’ beg for it.”

His hand smooths over your back, your tattoo, now your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so he can watch himself disappear inside you. The sound that comes from your throat is strangled, and Dave isn’t much better, chest heaving, temple dripping with sweat, restraining himself to avoid hurting you. But—

“You’re so fucking tight,” he says through his teeth, slapping your ass just to get some of his own frustration out. “Fuck, baby. You were fuckin’ made for me.”

“Mmmmm,” you say, your body keening, ass pushing against him and back arching. “Fuck me like you mean it, Mr. York. Make it up to me.”

Dave York does not back down from a challenge, not when it comes from your mouth. “Mrs. York,” he murmurs, grinding his hips against your ass. “Tell me you love me.”

“Earn it,” is your reply.

He fucking will.

Dave pulls halfway out of you and fits himself back in, earning a gurgled moan from your mouth, half-hidden into the pillows. He’s not going to last long like this, but he has never once come before you during sex, and he will not earn your forgiveness by starting now. Not that you’re making it easy, the way your tight asshole squeezes him, sucks him in, begging to be filled.

My back is gonna fucking smart tomorrow, he thinks, snapping his hips hard against your ass and holding you fast to him, impaled on his dick. You’re dripping onto the mattress beneath you, and you only know this because you can feel it dribbling down your own thighs. Dave fucks you like an animal in heat, his legs bracketing your hips, one strong arm sliding around your front to keep you supported as the rest of you crumbles.

“Tell me how it feels.”

You have heard this many times before. It’s how he checks in, gauges your comfort, makes adjustments as necessary. Only, now, you can’t speak for long enough to tell him; your teeth are bearing down on the bed sheets, your nose crushed to the mattress, the delicious drag of his cock inside your tight hole so blissfully overwhelming that speech flees your tangible skills.

You don’t even care that you can’t touch him. All you seek now is ruin.

The tone of his voice, soft and dark as the roll of tires over the road at nighttime, spills down your spine. “Oh, baby. Want me to fuck you stupid? Is that what you want, sweet girl?” Wordlessly, you nod, managing not even a whimper. Dave licks his teeth, his fingers as your clit, and begins to pound you so hard that the bed rocks.

It’s so good that nothing matters except for your orgasm. You get selfish and greedy and your cunt closes around nothing, your asshole gaping and accommodating the thick fucking cock inside, your fingers flexing uselessly, wrists bound, for a taste of something to grab when it finally happens.

You gasp, choke, swallowing stones, dirt, linen, too much, harder, cologne, you’re coming, it’s too much, Dave, cool night breeze, heralding fall, open windows, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m—

You cannot tell if your orgasm ends at all, or if he’s pulling more, more, from your body, but he begins to come, too, and it doesn’t matter because fuck, it feels so good. You feel every pulse of his cock as it pumps, pumps, pumps, filling you up, Dave growling like a fucking bear above you. Hips buck into your ass even though he cannot physically push any deeper, and his teeth sink into your throat as his body covers yours. It’s clear he needed this orgasm, too, and you take it happily, his hot cum shooting into your used asshole and none of it spilling over the tight seal that connects your bodies.

He collapses on top of you, rapidly frees your wrists from their confines, then heaves himself off to the side, his mouth on your shoulder all the way along, his big arm tucking around your waist. He keeps his cock tucked inside you, spilling its last few drops, pulling you both onto your sides, your back meeting his sweat-slick chest.

You toy with his fingers while his nose carves a path from your throat to your jawline, his mouth following. “I love your hands,” you whisper, your voice too raw still. “Love watching you write and type. They look so good inside me.”

“Fucked you stupid,” he declares, burying his face in your neck. You can feel the gradual ebb of his heartbeat against your back as he relaxes using your body. “You feel okay?”

“I feel really fucking good,” you tell him, letting your head rest against the pillow. “And I do love you.”

Dave gently nibbles your throat as if in reproach. “Don’t go forgiving me because I made you come,” he says grumpily. “Gotta earn it, remember?”

You reach back and scratch your nails against his scalp, which has him melting into you, sounds of idle pleasure leaving his pouty mouth. “Love isn’t a transaction,” you say. “It’s love because it’s a little bit unruly. I’m always going to love you, even when you fuck up. It’s about you loving me enough to make sure it never hurts for too long.”

“Hurting you,” says Dave, squeezing your fingers, “is not in the cards for me.”

His destiny is the opposite.

“You are never going to get complacent in this marriage. Do you understand me?” You thread your fingers through his and let him rub circles over your diamond ring. “If there is something you have to fix, you’ll tell me. This isn’t a guardianship. It’s a partnership.”

Dave nods, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “I promise, baby, to earn your love every single day. And I promise to bother the shit out of you constantly, even when you don’t want me around. I’ll follow you around like a puppy dog.”

You laugh, tugging on his hair. “We’ll work on it.”

DECEMBER

He’s searching through his desk for a file he needs to send Kovac, a bit frantic and frustrated because he’s got a date, and of course the file fucking disappears thirty seconds before the cars pulls up outside.

As he rifles through old documents, his peripheral catches something he tucked away long ago. Eyeing the list of crossed-out names, Dave trails his finger down each one, smirking. A job done. Another, and another—

He pauses. He most certainly did not make that pen mark; it’s a straight line of hot pink ink over the very last name of the list.

Dave York.

“Honey? Are you ready?” calls a sweet siren’s voice from the other side of the door.

Dave drags his finger across the name. The ink has been dry for a long time.

He shuts the desk drawer and leaves without the file he needs. It can wait.

He’s got better things to do.

THE END.

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #dave york #pedro pascal fic #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #dave york x reader #equalizer 2

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that-ari-blogger · 2 months

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The Wizard Is Right? (Sentimental Man)

Here is a question: Does a lie have to be untrue for it to be a lie?

I was to say something, fully believing it to be false, and then find out later that it was actually true and I didn't realise it, am I still lying?

I would argue that the answer is yes. A lie is a willing act of deception. But it's interesting how flimsy the relationship between the concept of truth and reality is.

The Wizard Of Oz is a character who lies through his teeth at all times, with one exception that we will come to in a later post. However, a lot of what he says ends up coming true anyway.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Wicked)

Let's be clear about something. The Wizard is not a politician, he's a conman. That is the point of his character. Oz as a whole parodies the performative nature of rulership, how it is often just as much about convincing people that you are doing a good job than actually making changes for the better.

The joke therein, is that this conman got further than anyone who is trained in the field by playing the system how it actually works, rather than how it should function.

So, no, I am not going to draw any conclusions about individuals in the real world, historical or modern. Likewise, I am not going to claim that the Wizard is an allegory for anyone in particular.

Take that as you will.

As we have been making our way through Wicked, we have been introduced to characters with varying relationships with the truth. Elphaba's mother is having an affair, Galinda and Fiyero are both putting up masks to cover up their true selves, and Elphaba has bought in to the mythology of the wizard.

Then we meet a character who is pure deceit in a crystalised form, Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs, the Wizard of Oz.

"I am a sentimental man Who always longed to be a father"

The word sentimental is defined by the Cambridge Dictionary as: "related to feelings rather than reason", and the wizard is certainly not that, because he isn't from Oz at all. He was unwillingly plucked from his true home and placed in Oz, a place that was in the midst of a history defining drought. He remained in Oz for a while before he became the Wizard, and he had no interest in returning home at all.

He also, I will remind you, runs a country based on constant surveillance and propaganda, which is a very detached approach.

The wizard knows all of this, he is complicit in it, so he is lying here, right?

But, he is sentimental, and for that I point to the acting. In the version of Wicked that I went to see, the wizard was played by Simon Burke, who gave the character a vibe similar to Matt Smith's 11th doctor. He is enjoying being in power and taking actions that sabotage the future of Oz in order to stay in power. That doesn't seem reasonable to me.

There is also the fact that his idea of crisis aversion is "giving people a common enemy", something he achieves by actively oppressing a specific group of people. This is bigotry and shows a belief on his part that this group of people is somehow less valuable to Oz, which is irrational, and bigoted.

The frightening thing about Oz, is that I don't think he actually knows why he does what he does. I think he thinks of himself as a chess master style ruler, who makes the optimal decision for Oz at all times. I don't think it has occurred to him that the most optimal decision is to not be the one in charge.

The rest of this song is a metaphor about how the wizard sees himself as the father of his country, and by extension Elphaba. This is what those in the business like to call irony.

I that the effect that the wizard has on Elphaba is fascinating. He inspires her. Although it is important to make a distinction between his mirage and his reality. The Wizard has lied to Oz and sold them an idea of fairness and equality that he is going out of his way to enforce the opposite of.

But that myth that he has created directly inspires Elphaba, as she becomes someone determined to make that false hope into a reality.

Final Thoughts

I think its rather funny that the Wizards' lies become self fulfilling prophecies, directly causing events later on in the story. It's like fate itself has this guy's number and sent him a text during the intermission that read "I know where you live."

In related news, the wizard's actual name is Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs, which is absurd, even for a satire.

Next week, I will be looking at a lesser known part of this musical. it's a small song and not that important, I was considering skipping over it. I think its called Defying Gravity. So, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #character analysis #what's so special about...?#wizard of oz #wicked the musical #wicked #wicked 2024 #wicked wizard of oz

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drbtinglecannon · 1 year

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NEW OFFICIAL TRAILER FOR "FOR THE FUTURE"

(I haven't watched the leaked episode, if you did, please do not post any spoilers. You will be blocked if you do.)

King!!! King is back!!! Unfortunately it comes at the cost of him obviously being the Collector's servant basically. At least he still has François.

King also reads a book about the Collector, similar to how the end of S1 he read a book about Belos. It's an easy way to add lore to the show, and it calls back to another time he did so

Not only do we get curly redhead Lilith, but she has a pixie cut now too!!! Her glasses are gone tho :(

All of the Coven Heads (but Terra?) got turned to puppets ;___; as have most other citizens including Hooty, Principal Bump & the other Hexside teachers, and some of the other student body like the grudgby players

Also Eda does not seem to have a prosthetic like most people predicted, which makes me wonder what happened to Alador

ALSO ALSO SHORT HAIR EDA 💖

Mattholomule grew the worst facial hair lol (I am certain the 😑 expressions everyone made in that last promo image was at Mattholomule). Skara is there too!!!! And Barkus (maybe we'll get a gustholomule moment)

Eda can still lose control of the Owl Beast in Harpy mode -- and I can't blame her considering the circumstances. Her eyes turn fully black in that inky drop motion like back in s1

I wonder if her short hair affects the look

Huntlow moment 💚💛

Dana was right, sparkly is a good word to describe this episode.

I'm not sure how I feel by the idea that almost all adults got captured, it does feel specifically like The Collector (a child like God) did it on purpose, but it still is kinda :/ to know most of my fav supporting cast are puppets now to conveniently write them all out of the episode so as to keep the cast from bloating. Like I get why it was done but I'm still salty about it

The Coven Heads (again except maybe Terra?? Idk why she wasn't there? Did she pledge loyalty well enough to not need to be puppetfied? Did she escape? Die? Lol could you imagine) all have slight whimsical features added to their designs, as with everyone who got puppetfied, but for once they're all moving & working in tandem haha. Raine's close up not only killed me, but gave a good callback to when they got captured by Kikimora then "brainwashed" for weeks afterwards. The parallels of Raine pretending to be an enemy vs now they are but completely against their will. Bah. I'm dying, I'm afraid to see Eda's face in that scene. ;__; I'm really unhappy to have any Raeda fluff or bonding during this special (or suggested to have happened in between KT & FTF) robbed from us, but angst is classic Raeda vibes so I'm not surprised

I did also notice we didn't see any hints of Amity, Gus, or Willow's families at all. All we know is Eda & Lilith seem to have escaped puppetfication. I have a feeling Hooty took the puppetfication blast for Lilith in that moment

I'm stoked about Lilith having red hair again, and I was not expecting her & Eda to both cut their hair short! Everyone's getting hair style changes!

This will definitely be a Collector lore heavy episode, if only for the fact King was reading that book about them. I wonder if there used to be more children of the stars, and where the others went/are if there were

And lastly I'm at the photo cap but Belos is there too. He is using glyphs to burrow into some area, and he's killing the wildlife as he goes. Y'know, classic Belos behavior. I wonder if he's trying to get to where Caleb's mangled remains are, and if so what the plan is from there. I doubt Belos will play a large part in this episode as it seems very heavily focused on The Collector instead, which I'm fine with as I figured the final confrontation with Belos was gonna be the last special, what with him being the main villain of the show.

Despite any hangups I have I'm very excited to see the special! I know Dana & the crew worked hard on it

#toh #the owl house for the future #raeda #huntlow #toh theory #i am so curious. & legit concerned to post this that I'll get trolls posting spoilers but im excited after the trailer #im really upset about darius being a puppet bc that means if we even get a reunion it might be sad. again. :c #tc posts #tagging huntlow for that 1 pic but also im assuming they will have a handful of moments. sorry folks who dislike it but im certain itll be #canon in some capacity by the series end. just like im certain we're getting a Raeda wedding i will be forever disappointed if we dont #long post #eda clawthorne #toh the collector #king clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #toh spoilers

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heloflor · 5 months

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Probably my hottest Mario take: I might actually like the 1986 Anime Movie more than the 2023 Movie. Yes the 2023 one is a better movie overall while the 86 Anime didn’t age well and is filled with plot conveniences and random things happening just because, along with the bad animation, questionable voice acting, weird soundtrack and sound design, but idk I still really like it.

It’s just that there’s something very charming about that movie. It came out a single year after the first Super Mario Bros, back when there was little to no lore about the Mushroom Kingdom, and it really shows in the way enemies are used and random characters exist but also you can tell they made an effort with the little they had. It’s like watching the very beginning of the franchise, way before it became the phenomenon it is today, and there’s something about it I really like.

I’m also fascinated by the way Peach and Bowser were written in it. This was the first time these two were given a personality past “evil bad guy” and “damsel in distress”. And not only are they both great in the little screentime they have, but these new personality traits, given one single year after the creation of those characters, remain to this day their personality, albeit with a few small tweaks (Bowser being a dad becoming a huge part of his character, Peach losing her temper in most versions). Kinda funny how these two are the biggest highlight of the movie despite only being in it for like 5 minutes, but still, love what was done with them.

And when it comes to comparing it to the 2023 Movie, I actually find it hilarious how many similarities the two have, including having the exact same skeleton for their story. It’s been 37 years yet Nintendo is still writing the same thing, I love it (more on the comparison here).

Oh yeah and because I just know there are some people who will go “the hell you like about this movie?!”, here’s an actual list!

- Literally everything about the intro is great once you get past the weirdness of the Mushroom people coming out the TV. We get Mario playing the Famicom, Peach managing to defend herself for a while before getting overwhelmed, Mario being hilariously chill about all of this, Mario more than willing to fight Bowser until he sees just how enormous Bowser is and gets intimidated, the back and forth between Peach and Mario hiding behind each other, that moment where Bowser gets rid of Mario with one finger and then smiles about it followed by a beat and then Peach starts throwing furniture at him, the Game Over screen, Luigi reacting like you’d expect. Just. Everything about this scene is great!

- The wooden title cards look amazing. It’s a small thing, but I love the “fairytale” vibe it gives the movie. And now that I think about it, that might also be why I’m being so nice with this movie, since fairytales do tend to be small stories with little going on and not always making sense, making it easier to forgive its flaws.

- The shop scene is also very solid in showing us who Mario and Luigi are as people and how they play off of each-other. On that note, I like their dynamic. It’s a bit of the usual bickering siblings who would still do anything for each other, but it works.

- The meeting with the wizard guy is also solid with the way Mario and Luigi react to things. It’s a bit of an exposition dump, but you can tell they try to make it entertaining. Plus, it works for how simplistic the story is (yes I’m giving this movie a lot of slack).

- The travel montages...yeah I’m gonna be honest with this one, it sucks. I do like how they use them to show the different power-ups they get, but it’s still very boring and I skip them when watching the movie. Except for the last one on the airship, that one is pleasant.

- Luigi tripping on mushrooms. Do I even need to say more? But yeah that whole sequence with the paratroopa is nice (once you get past the fact that a turtle made a bunch of birds). And I like how clever Mario gets to save himself and Luigi from the babies.

- I’m not one to care about people drawing smut of cartoon characters, but the internet is sleeping on those Toads. That’d actually be hilarious if the main takeaway the fandom had of this movie were to be the Toad girls. And on an unrelated note, their designs is more original than the Toads we get now!

- The whole sequence with the Piranha plants and the Lakitu honestly bores me and drags on a bit. The Piranhas might also be the worst animated part of this whole thing. I do like how much of a selfish bitch the Lakitu is though. Idk, that’s a fun character in their shittiness.

- The scene in the cavern is fine. I like how the Hammer Bros is used as that intimidating guard, and we get to see Luigi be the one to solve the issue this time around! On that note, I love that Luigi’s love for money isn’t only for jokes but is at times used as a plot point (him later on flooding the castle and finding Mario’s star). Mario’s daydream is also pretty cute.

- I probably watched that scene between Peach and Bowser a dozen times since I re-discovered this movie this year. I adore the way they are characterized, especially in the context of this being the first time they’ve been written this way. Bonus points for Bowser who has no rights being as adorable as he is in this. Ultimately this scene doesn’t really advance the story, but I still love that we got some insight on who these two are at such an early stage of the franchise’s existence.

- The underwater scene is also a slug to go through, though it’s interesting to see how they used the Cheep Cheep. Also Mario dressing up as a ballerina while the dog references that one queer music star is a yes.

- I find the third act of this movie to be honestly solid. Sure there are some contrivances with the fire platforms room and the water somehow destroying the castle, but I still like it. Granted it might be due to how much screentime Bowser gets here. Speaking of which, it’s actually surprising that Bowser turns down Peach when she promises to marry him if he lets Mario alone, with Bowser refusing because he knows Mario might be trouble since he already ate two of the power-ups. This is probably top five smartest things Bowser has done in the entire franchise. This isn’t an insult to Games Bowser btw, I fucking love this dumbass, and he is kind of a dumbass when interacting with Peach in this movie as well!

- While the ending is hated for a reason and I do find it dumb as well, it’s still incredibly sweet how Mario accepts it and wishes happiness on Peach.

So overall, is the 86 Anime good? Ehh, not really. But if you’re able to get past all the weird shit going on, it’s very charming as a piece of Mario history, and it’s especially funny to see all the small things that end up becoming a core part of the franchise. And because of that, I can’t help but like it more than the 2023 Movie, even if the 2023 one is an overall better movie (I’d give the 86 Anime a 4,5/10 and the 2023 one a 6/10 in terms of movie quality; but in terms of enjoyment the 86 Anime is above the 2023 Movie for me)

#Super Mario #The Great Mission to Rescue Princess Peach #Mario '86 Anime #Mario Anime #Flor talks #I love how everytime I bring up this movie I talk about it like it was common knowledge that it exists #granted it's bc I saw it as a kid on yt #and is basically assuming that long-time Mario fans also used to go around seeing fan animations #and accidentally stumbling on an official movie along the way #long post

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unfounded-daydreams · 6 months

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♡ + dancing, which of your muses are proficient in dancing? What is their favourite type of dance if they have one, and if they aren’t proficient in dance; how would they be if they had to dance? ouo

♡ + dancing || headcanon meme

In alphabetical order with my current loudest muses… here we go!

Callahan

When it comes to dancing, Callahan certainly tries. Quiet vibing in the corner, however, doesn’t really count. That said, he likes to bop his head to all sorts of genres. Heavy metal, loose classical… it doesn’t matter. Good music is good music, and though he can’t dance to it on a technical level, he enjoys it nonetheless.

Dream

I’ve always loved making Dream a surprisingly good dancer. He’s more intuitive than practiced, however. No set style. He doesn’t bother to spend hours in front of a mirror getting the moves right, either.

But! Throw a partner into the mix, and suddenly he’s trying to predict their every move. How can he best steal their breath away? This remains the case even if his intentions are less than pure. See, if he can leave a lasting impact on his partner, he considers it a win. What’s better than lingering in even your enemy’s thoughts, driving them mad with your memory? Egotistical Dreamie would settle for nothing less.

Then again, I’m a sucker for those kinds of tropes. Give me Dream spinning around someone he claims to loathe until they’re both out of breath and dizzy with emotion. All according to plan… Except, is it really?

George

Whether George can dance or not depends entirely on the AU. From a canon POV, he can. Just not perfectly. Small hiccups are to be expected. He prefers dancing to slower tunes for that reason. Anything fast-paced is bound to leave him floundering on the dance floor.

And when he’s with someone? Through tinted goggles, he gets lost in his partner’s eyes. The feeling of their hand in his and the heat swirling between them is enough to have him lose focus. He’ll end up stepping on their toes sooner rather than later, much to his chagrin. Muttered apologies are barely audible — he wishes he was better at this sorta thing.

In other AUs, I’ve written him as an actual, trained dancer. But as a general rule of thumb: he’s easily distracted when there’s too much on his mind. It’s part of the reason he’s so likely to zone-out; but that’s a topic for another day.

Punz

Punz is a big dancer. Not only is it a cultural thing for many fae, but his bee-like instincts compel him to wiggle from time to time when he’s trying to communicate or express something. Dance-emphasis. They’ll describe how to make something with full-blown, dramatized hand gestures and a sway of their hips. Or they’ll give directions and pace back and forth in a silly little waggle dance. Either way, they can take that to a whole other level when it’s time to get serious.

They also are very happy when someone wants to dance with them. Pull them close and rock them back and forth and they’ll start buzzing whether they mean to or not. (Well, in AUs where they still have their wings. Like many Punz writers, I’m not kind to him.)

Watch him roll his eyes and say it’s stupid, but… Given enough prompting, he wraps his arms around his partner and buries his face into the crook of their neck. “You’re bad at this,” they’d mutter through a playful grin. Still, despite the tease, they don’t dare let go. Even the simplest of dances are enough to keep them hooked. They don’t need anything fancy.

Ranboo

Ranboo is my beloved dancer! Even if they’re not the greatest in the world, they practice frequently and love showing off their new moves. Clumsy mistakes are quickly corrected the second time around. Bit by bit, they’ve refined the routine to a polished sheen.

He also enjoys dancing with other people. Not necessarily hand-in-hand, but as a group. Something about that lightens the pressure of being a solo performer. Dancing is a lot more enjoyable when everyone around him is having a good time too. They’re also big on bobbing their head to certain tunes or humming/vwooping along, regardless of the presence of lyrics.

Techno

Ever wondered where Ranboo learned how to dance? Look no further than everyone’s favorite piglin. I adore found family dynamics between these two, I won’t lie. Any PeerPressureDuo enjoyers out there?

In any case, dancing is pretty big in my idea of piglin society. It shows two people’s chemistry and their ability to navigate missteps together. So, Techno was taught from a young age how to dance, even just to make friends.

He’s extremely elegant as well, flowing from one move to another without issue. It’s seamless, gorgeous, and entrancing. He fights like he dances, too, with every gesture pronounced and oddly graceful.

This was… probably more information than anyone ever wanted to know, but I had fun writing it! Thank you for the lovely ask!!

#whispers﹒ooc answers #「talk is cheap」﹒callahan﹒drabbles #「midnight musings」﹒dream﹒drabbles #「memories turn to daydreams」﹒george﹒drabbles #「make believe」﹒punz﹒drabbles #「panic room」﹒ranboo﹒drabbles #「bloody constellations」﹒techno﹒drabbles #dcathbook

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ash-and-books · 5 months

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Rating: 5/5

Book Blurb:

The hot new enemies-to-lovers dark romance perfect for lovers of S.T. Abby's Mindf*ck series and Sophie Lark's Sinner's Duet. Two rival serial killers. One common enemy.

Forensic anthropologist Dr. Jack Sorensen is the perfect serial killer. In the bright lights of his public persona he’s a respected scientist, a leader in the field of human decomposition. But in his shadowed secret life he’s a ruthless and elusive killer, unseen by the authorities who have failed to follow his faint trail of destruction. Beautifully cold, brilliant and cruel, Jack wants nothing more than to keep his life captured in his vise-like grip of control. And Jack Sorensen never makes mistakes…

…until he underestimates Dr. Kyrie Roth.

Wildlife biologist Kyrie is the enemy Jack never noticed, another murderer in his midst. A killer with equal cunning and stealth as the great Jack Sorensen, she knows all his darkest secrets, even the pieces of a past he might have forgotten. Kyrie has created the perfect habitat for her favorite research subject, but she’s finally had enough of being bitten by the beast that lives at Jack’s core. Pushed past her breaking point, Kyrie has decided to do whatever it takes to make Jack suffer. But when Kyrie’s traumatic past descends on her broken oasis, the only person who can help Kyrie banish her painful shadows might just be her greatest enemy.

History can’t always be left to decay in a cold grave. Time has a way of thawing secrets, leaving them to shine as bright as bleached bones in the sun. Can Jack and Kyrie set aside their battle and survive a world built to hunt them? Or will they kill each other first? ***Marrow is a dark romance intended for an adult audience. For complete CWs, see Brynne's website***

Review:

Killer vs Killer, academic rivals, and a twisted romance has begun in this game of body parts. Dr. Jack Sorenson is a forensic anthropologist who lives a double life as a serial killer. He's job gives him the perfect cover... yet he never saw her coming. Dr. Kyrie Roth is a wildlife biologist, Jack's academic rival, and the serial killer who is just as cunning and stealthy as him... she's been stalking him for years and yet Jack has finally pushed her to her breaking point and she wants to make him pay. Kyrie has a secret... she had a traumatic past in which she was attacked and forced to watch her parents die... and the person rescued her was Jack and he doesn't even remember her. A girl can only take so much before she breaks. She tried to give Jack the benefit of doubt, she tried playing nice, she tried everything... but she's had enough and now its time for him to pay. Kyrie has a new game for Jack and he's going to suffer... yet when he begins this game with her he never expects to be falling for her or that she would be the perfect partner. When a FBI agent comes into town both of them will be forced to work together if they want to remain free. Will they survive this new intruder in their game or will they end up killing each other? This was such a fun killer romance. Kyrie and Jack have so much chemistry and I love how Kyrie fell first but Jack fell harder. This was giving YOU (Netflix) S4 Rhys x Joe vibes except they fall in love and I was so here for it. The story was fun to follow and the romance was great. I really had fun with this one!

#book review #bookish #book #marrow

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lazysublimeengineer · 10 months

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Betrothed - Chapter 12

Summary: “Marry me Isagi.” Reo’s calm and collected voice snapped out Isagi’s any wandering thoughts and he faced him harshly.

The impact was much like a ball landed unexpectedly on an enemy’s territory out in the field.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He bit out, demanding answers from him.

Reo remained unperturbed and unruffled by his outburst which made Isagi more irritated with him.

“It’s just like what I said Isagi. Marry me. Or do you have any other options in mind? For sure, your analytical mind can catch up with me, right? Or do I need to spell it out for you?” Reo replied with an arched brow but his mauve orbs held a glint of amusement at the other’s expressions, taking in delight of the multitude of expressions that flitted across the male’s face in just a few seconds.

- Or a Reosagi marriage of convenience AU that no one asked for but I still deliver: Isagi loses on the match and his career is on the line until Reo swoops in with an offer that could still save him and his future.

Characters: Isagi Y. & Reo M.

Link for the 11th chapter:

(A/N: This is the last chapter of the story. So, for all my readers who are still reading and supporting on this until the very end, I’m thankful for all of you as your kind and enthusiastic reviews fuels my inspiration to finish and complete this fic. Moreover, this is also inspired by the song, “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever” by Zayn and Taylor Swift. The sultry yet emotional lyrics of the song just fits with overall the vibe of this chapter. So, without any further ado, let’s get on with the story, shall we? Lastly, I don’t own anything from this franchise except for this story. This wonderful manga belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura. And this beautiful ballad belongs to Zayn and Taylor Swift).

Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you'd call

It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all

Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day

Give me something, oh, but you say nothing

What is happening to me?

During the previous weeks before the events of Reo & her mother conversing at the library on the past chapter…

It was still early in the morning but Reo was already out of his bedroom while still in his pajamas, searching frantically for Isagi.

“Ba-Ya have you seen Isagi?” He asked immediately as soon as he spotted her walking along the halls.

“Yes. He had left very early in the morning Master Reo. He said that he still had several morning practices with his team for their upcoming match.”

“I see…” Reo tried not to be disappointed at the news and kept his casual façade as he went back to his bedroom to finally prepare himself for a long, arduous day at the office.

Reo’s mind was spiraling with a lot of thoughts which didn’t help him in clearing his head. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. There’s no use in filling his head with unnecessary thoughts. Isagi was quite busy with his career which was the same for him. He shouldn’t put any negative meaning to what the other’s actions were and it’s just a bad timing on his part.

He could talk again with Isagi the next day.

With that reassuring thought in mind, Reo resumed on what he was doing and dressed himself for work today and put all his attention on the responsibilities that he needed to do as the CEO of their enterprise.

Except that for the next day it’s the same scenario that he faced in the morning: Isagi left the mansion very early in the morning and returned very late at night to the point that they almost didn’t see each other except for the fact one of them was already asleep in their bed when they got home.

It filled Reo with an indescribable anguished and misery at what they were going through.

It’s been a week and there has been no progress to their strained relationship which made it worse as each day passed them by.

Reo had never felt this kind of wretchedness that seemed to drown him in despair as he faintly realized that the gulf between him and Isagi were getting wider despite living in the same place.

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain

And I don't wanna fit wherever

I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

The sound of the doorbell rang throughout the living room which made Iyo get up from the sofa that she was sitting at and lowering the volume of the television before going to the front door and opened it.

Her eyes widened in surprise upon witnessing on the person who was waiting by the gate as she went out from the door.

“Yocchan!” She exclaimed and immediately opened the gate to let him in.

“Hey Ma…” He greeted her with a sheepish smile on his face as he hugged her lightly to which Iyo returned it warmly.

“You didn’t inform us that you’ll be visiting today. I’m happy to see you here Yocchan but why the surprise visits this weekend? And your husband Reo is not with you?” She asked curiously as she pulled away and searched his face imploringly.

“Ah, Reo’s got an important thing to do at work this weekend… Seeing that he’s the CEO now of their company it’s understandable that he still got a lot of things to do even on Saturdays…” Isagi replied vaguely, avoiding her curious gaze which didn’t go unnoticed by her mother.

“I see…” Iyo replied tentatively, wanting to press further for details but she realized that it might not be a good time to do so. She instead focused on the paper bag that he was holding in his right hand.

“Hmm… And what is that?” She tried to peer on the contents inside.

“Oh this? I bought some sweets on the bakery downtown. For you and Pa.” He brightened up a bit as he handed her the bag.

“You’re still always the sweet, little considerate boy that we have Yocchan! Come on in then. Let’s eat what you’ve brought us.” Iyo giggled as she let her son inside their house.

“I’m not little anymore Ma.” Isagi grumbled weakly as a faint blush marred his cheeks from his mother’s coddling. He was embarrassed when her mother or even both of his parents coddled or teased him like a little kid when, he was a full-grown adult now even if that’s their way of showing that they cared for him as their son.

He followed her inside and took off his shoes before he went inside the living room.

“Issei! Yocchan is here and brought us some sweets from the bakeshop!” Iyo called her husband cheerfully as she made her way towards the kitchen to prepare the bag of sweets in a plate.

Isagi went towards the living room and sat down on the sofa. His eyes roaming around the surroundings of their home and it brought back a sweet nostalgia to him. It’s been a while since he got here.

Ever since he became a well-known soccer player around the world, he was rarely at home and was staying on his flat in Germany. Even if he’s back here in Japan previously, his manager advised him to stay at another secluded place with high security because he’s been swarmed with the paparazzi and the fans whenever he went. And he didn’t want his parents to have a heart attack every time they went out of their house to find out that the media was camping out in their backyard to get a glimpse and scoop on him.

Overall, he missed his parents and wanted to spend more time with them…

…but he knew in his heart that it’s not the only reason why.

He was avoiding Reo at all costs.

He wasn’t a non-confrontational person. In fact, he didn’t shy away from serious discussions with other people just to clear things up.

But it’s different with Reo.

It’s different with their situation altogether.

Isagi didn’t know if he should be ready to face the reality of Reo talking plainly to him and reminding him of the real score between the two of them.

Of reminding him that there has been no “us” to begin with because their relationship and marriage was born out of necessity and contract with an expiration date.

That when it’s all over they would have to get back to the way things were before: Reo to probably rekindle on whatever thing he had going on with Nagi and him to focused more on building his name and career on the top of the soccer industry.

That’s the only logical conclusion that he came up with after they end their bogus relationship and file a divorce after six months.

Isagi should be happy and satisfied because this is what he wanted.

This is what Reo wanted.

This is what they both wanted.

Then how can he explain the aching loss that gripped his heart for these past few days?

Why the fuck he can’t even look at Reo in the eye without feeling as if he lost him forever?

He didn’t lose him in the first place because they don’t even have a real relationship to begin with.

Regardless, if they both succumbed to the needs of their bodies repeatedly back in Hawaii, it probably meant nothing to Reo anyway.

He can have his body but never his heart.

And Isagi lost the battle that day because Reo had his body, heart, and soul that night he surrendered himself to him.

There was a gaping hole in his heart which can never be fulfilled except for Reo’s presence and fondness.

Isagi wanted to curse his helpless heart because it’s always been a fool when it came to the young heir. He had trouble being rational towards him because his feelings were like a marionette in Reo’s hands, it’s either soaring up in the air or crashing down into the ground because of the searing gap of truth between the two of them that even the illusion of their marriage brought nothing but inexplicable anguished inside of him.

“Yocchan? You okay there, son? We’ve been calling over you from the dining hall because your mother has finished preparing the sweets you brought today.” Issei’s concerned voice from the background cut off Isagi’s derailing thoughts and brought him back to the present.

He breathed deeply before he plastered a smile on his lips as he finally faced his father. “I’m okay Pa! Ah, sorry if I couldn’t answer back quickly since I was busy sightseeing in the living room. Can’t help but to remember the good times when I was a kid.” He rubbed his nape sheepishly as his father went towards his direction and patted him on the shoulder fondly.

“I totally get that Yocchan. Missing the good old times and simple things in life. It’s great that you visited us here! Next time bring Reo here! I know that he’s a busy man but it wouldn’t hurt his schedule if both of you could visit us sometime for a simple family gathering.” Issei replied enthusiastically as he motioned for Isagi to follow him on the dining hall.

Isagi chuckled nervously. “Of course, Pa. I’ll see what I can do and talk to Reo about it one of these days.” Isagi inwardly wince at his words.

Issei hummed in assent as he walked in front of Isagi going to the dining hall.

Isagi was inwardly thankful for that as the smile was wiped off from his face and was replaced by a crestfallen facial expression because then he would really need to talk to Reo about his father’s request and facing the inevitable in the future.

I'm sitting eyes wide open and I got one thing stuck in my mind

Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

Baby, baby, I feel crazy

Up all night, all night and every day

I gave you something, but you gave me nothing

What is happening to me?

Sometime later this day Isagi helped his mother in watering the plants at their backyard despite her protests because she wanted him to rest in his room.

He had nothing else to do and he didn’t want to spend the rest of the day staring at the ceiling of his own room because he didn’t trust his mind on not to dwell at his current situation with Reo and how it might shatter his heart once again.

“Yocchan you’re going to drown the plant at some point because of your excessive watering.” Iyo commented with a sigh leaving her lips as she stared at the water overflowing from the pot.

Isagi immediately stopped and smiled apologetically at his mother, his cheeks burning in mortification.

“Sorry about that Ma. I didn’t mean to…” He replied regretfully as he placed down the water sprinkler at the side of the garden.

His mother looked at him softly before she approached him and urged him to sit down in one of the chairs under the shade and sat down beside him as well.

“Yocchan is there a problem? I know that I shouldn’t be asking you this but I just noticed on how you look a bit… off… or what’s the word for it? Restless and distracted for some reason. Me and your father are always here to support and guide you if you need us.” Iyo replied worriedly.

Isagi smiled forlornly at her before he shook his head faintly. “It’s nothing Ma. I’m just a bit tired from the practices and work to do with my manager since I’m busy with my career in soccer. I just wanted to ask something from you though…”

“Hmm? What is it Yocchan?”

“How did you and Pa realized that you’re really in love with each other and are meant to be together?”

Iyo blinked at him a few times before a soft chuckle escaped her lips. “Now that’s bit random Yocchan. Never in a million years that you’ll be interested to hear the history of our love life together.”

“I’m serious Ma…” Isagi replied petulantly. “It’s just that you’ve been married for too long and sometimes I wonder if you never get tired with each other…? Or even fall out of love…?” Isagi added hesitantly.

Iyo looked at him in silence for a moment before a gentle smile inched across her lips.

“Of course, it’s not always rainbows and sunshine with me and your father Yocchan. Married couples encountered some problems and obstacles that tested their faith, love, and patience with one another. And we’re no exception to that. There are times that when that obstacle is too strong for us and one of us is on verge of giving up… But just thinking about a time that one of us won’t be beside with each other forever because we simply gave up on our marriage due to that setback… we couldn’t bear it. It’s a lot of work for the both of us. Your father and I has gone through a lot especially during the early stages of our marriage but even if we argue sometimes, we don’t get tired with each other because our love is still there. Even if probably one of us dies in the future due to old age, we won’t be marrying someone else because we can’t see ourselves falling in love with someone else…” Iyo replied softly before a sheepish smile hovered around her lips.

“Sorry Yocchan. Is that corny? Or is it too romantic? I don’t want to appear a bit of a hopeless romantic in your eyes but that is the simple truth between your father and I. For the marriage to work out and keep it alive, you both need to work things out. If the other person is unwilling to sort things out with their partner if there’s an issue then I’m afraid it won’t really last long…” Iyo added gently.

Isagi blinked a few times, analyzing his mother’s words inside his head before he shook his head slightly.

“No Ma. You’re not corny or anything like that. What you said makes some sense… It’s admirable really since you’ve been married with Pa for several years and you still don’t get tired with each other and your love for each other is still there…” He murmured as he looked at the horizon beyond them with a serenely downcast expression on his face.

A look of understanding crossed Iyo’s face before she cupped his face with both of her hands and made her faced him directly.

“I’m not going to ask you about Reo but I sensed that this has something to do with him. I believe in you Yocchan in working things out with your husband since you’re both adults. But you need to talk with each other, okay? If you’re both ready that is… I don’t like seeing you like this Yocchan… I’m not used to it when you’re holding back because I know that you can be upfront with your thoughts and emotions even though you’re quiet sometimes.”

“I’m just scared Ma…” Isagi swallowed thickly. “Scared that it won’t go the way I thought it would be…” He admitted quietly.

“You’ll never know since you never did. And since when has fear held you back Yocchan? I’ve seen you chased your dreams and goal in life. Especially in Blue Lock. On how you triumph from the adversities and challenges out there. I don’t think this kind of obstacle of communicating clearly with your husband should hold you back my son. I don’t want you having “what ifs” scenarios in your head when it’s too late.” Iyo coaxed at him.

A shaky smile made its way towards Isagi’s face before he gently removed his mother’s hands away from his face.

“You’re right Ma. Thanks for knocking some sense into me. I might try that when I’m ready to do so…”

A gentle laughter escaped from Iyo’s lips as she patted his son’s head.

“Of course, Yocchan. Anything for our only dearest son.”

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain

And I don't wanna fit (fit, babe) wherever (wherever)

I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

Isagi closed the main door carefully behind him.

He didn’t want to make a fuss or an unnecessary noise when he got back in the mansion late at night. His visit with his parents earlier today was fruitful on his account and it helped his mind see on the other perspective of the problem.

The fear still gripped him but Isagi needed to face the reality and talk to Reo. He can’t go on like this with him since getting up way too earlier than his alarm clock everyday and left the mansion on the wee hours of the morning then went back late just to avoid him was draining on him as well.

He needed to be an adult with a levelheaded mind.

And his mother was right. Since when did he became an evasive individual? He always faced his problems head on. That’s how he always he got ahead in life and achieved his goals in life.

So, this should be no different from him. Even if his heart was on the line for it.

As Isagi was walking upstairs, he stopped midway and stared up in surprise when he saw Reo on the balcony, staring right back at him.

“You’re still awake?” He blurted out. Suddenly, Isagi had the urge to bolt out of the mansion away from him.

When he steeled himself to talk to Reo, this was not he expected at all.

Isagi needed to plan first on what he was going say to him and not face him head on!

He didn’t want to blurt things out that would make him like a pathetic idiot in front of him.

But alas, it seemed that destiny had different plans for him tonight as Reo didn’t plan on letting him off the hook so soon.

“Of course, Isagi. What’re you expecting? For me to be asleep at this hour?” Reo asked back.

“Well, it is late at night… I thought you were sleeping now especially since it’s the weekend…” Isagi faltered slightly.

“You’re right Isagi it is the weekend and I should be sleeping peacefully but how can I do that when my husband is not beside me?”

Isagi couldn’t decipher the tone of his voice but he could see the storm of emotions passing over his face which made him swallowed thickly.

“Stop…” Isagi replied quietly.

“Can we just talk Isagi? Why do you continue to avoid me?” Reo asked, his voice almost pleading as his eyes searched his face imploringly.

“What’s there to talk about Reo…?” Isagi asked back in a faltering voice as he proceeded to went upstairs and headed towards their room. “This whole set up is a sham anyway. Our marriage is just for a show to the other people so I don’t think we should put an effort in getting to know one another since we’re still getting a divorce in the future…” He added in a small voice as he opened the door and went inside.

Just as he was about to close the door, one of Reo’s hands stopped him midway and went inside with ease.

“But what about those times that we spent together in Hawaii? Did it even matter to you…? I know that it’s just for a show but was there ever a time that you cherish it closely to you like it’s almost real…?” Reo closed the door behind them with a resounding click on the lock.

He was losing hope as he couldn’t get a read on Isagi’s expression accurately.

Isagi stared at Reo fiercely. “What are you even onto about Reo? Why are you asking me these kinds of things? You’re making things complicated when it should not be!” He exclaimed indignantly, a hurricane of emotions passing over his face.

“I’m not the only one who’s making things complicated too y’know? You continuously avoided me when I wanted to talk to you because I don’t want this…. This…. Kind of thing to just end because of something that we should address about but we didn’t. Are you avoiding me because of that day you saw me with Nagi? Are you avoiding me because you felt jealous when you saw the two of us together talking at the café?” Reo asked bravely, throwing all his hesitations away as he stared back at Isagi intently.

“Yes Reo! Yes! I avoided you because I got jealous when I saw you two together knowing that you might have something special in the past with Nagi and I have these stupid feelings for you when I shouldn’t be in the first place! I’m an idiot okay! I avoided you because I don’t want to make things complicated since I got irrationally jealous over something that I shouldn’t and… because… along the way I’ve fallen in love with you. I fucking fall in love with you Reo along the way. Even if our relationship is fake and our marriage was born out of convenience, I can’t stop my goddamn heart from falling for you even if you probably don’t feel the same way…! Satisfied?” Isagi’s voice cracked at the end, his vision getting blurry before he belatedly realized that there were silent tears streaming down his cheeks. Isagi inwardly berated himself for making a fool of himself in front of Reo’s eyes. He doesn’t even have a shred of dignity left when he burst out his innermost feelings and thoughts in front of him knowing that he’s the only one who had feelings for him.

Reo’s eyes grew wide at his outburst and revelation, his orchid irises swirling with an unknown emotion before it settled into something fragile and soft knowing that if he uttered a wrong word or a wrong move, he might lose Isagi forever.

He went slowly towards his direction, stopping midway as he was a few inches apart from him. One of his hands rose as if to wipe the tears streaming down his face before he paused and sought his face as if seeking Isagi’s permission to even touch him.

“Would you believe me if I say I love you too Isagi? Would you still believe me that I’ve also fell in love with you along the way and I don’t want you to leave and divorce me?” Reo asked in a trembling voice, trying to contain his tears but he could feel his hands shook slightly from the overwhelming emotions that overtook him now.

A small sob broke out of Isagi’s lips upon hearing his words before his hand took Reo’s hand which was suspended in the midair and brought it to his cheek, letting the other’s thumb wiped away the stray of tears that continuously fall down his face.

“If you just said that out of pity, I don’t think I may be able to take it… Because my stupid, fucking heart tells me that I should believe you…” Isagi whispered, closing his eyes as he let the feeling of Reo’s hand stroking his cheek gently.

“Fuck no Isagi. You know that I don’t say or do things out of pity.” Reo breathed out. “I’m in love with you for a while now but I’m just too stubborn and in denial to admit it to myself because everything should be too simple and not complicated. I understand the way you reacted when you saw Nagi and I together at the café but believe me Isagi that nothing happened there except that it was a closure that we both needed. We’re both closing that chapter between the two of us because we needed to move things forward with our lives and we can’t dwell in the past when our friendship only now existed in the fragments of our memories. I do admit that previously, I was haunted by what ifs in my thoughts and resented you for thinking that you stole Nagi’s attention and interest away from me. It took a lot to make me realize that it was a misconstrued thought from my end and I put the blame on you for the shortcomings that we’ve had with our friendship. It’s never your fault Isagi. It never was. And I’m fucking stupid and blind to realized that very late because I was blinded by my resentment and animosity towards you. I failed to see earlier your other redeeming qualities that made people flock to you eagerly. Your determination, passion, steadfastness, and your invigorating spirit which inspired other people around you. You even made Nagi independent and put an effort into things that he wouldn’t probably do when I was with him before. You made him think for his own and score his goal in soccer…”

Reo paused, his voice faltering slightly.

His words made Isagi opened his eyes again and stared at Reo owlishly. “Reo…”

“No please let me finish Isagi before I lose the nerve to say it…” Reo smiled despondently at him before he continued.

“Remember of what we talk about back in the monitoring room then when we’re watching those play offs? That moment it opened my eyes to be better and reach my full potential so that I can play alongside with Nagi again. And I did. But it was difficult to overcome the fact that we’ve both changed and the differences between the two of us we’re quite stark when we teamed up again back in Manshine City. It’s hard to curb down the bitterness when Nagi’s goal was all about defeating you even if I just got stronger and more capable to play beside him. It didn’t occur to me that Nagi’s got his own thoughts and insecurities… The whole thing about defeating you… and him thinking that he was not strong enough to win the World Cup together if he can’t even defeat you in a match… I was consumed by my envy until it was too late. The conversation that we’ve had Isagi is to clear things between us and to let him know that I forgive him for his shortcomings and apologize too for my own selfishness and misunderstandings between us. He wanted me to come back in the world of soccer and play beside him again but I refuse because I’m no longer interested and my heart is not on it anymore seeing that winning the World Cup has already been achieved… And the other more important reason was that… Because I’m in love with you and I’m fairly content with what I’ve had now with you. I want to be the supportive husband that you can dream of to be. I love you Isagi. Just the mere thought of us divorcing after six months made something inside of me crack. Then I realized it was my heart rebelling against the thought… I don’t want things to end like this Isagi… So please, can you give us another chance to start all over again…? Give me a chance to prove my worth to you…? I know I’m a fucking bastard sometimes but I’m… I’m… h-hoping t-that… we can still fix this… but I don’t want to force you if you don’t want t-to…” Reo’s voice broke at the end as he also realized that the tears that he’d been holding back this time had stream down his cheeks. His indigo irises were shining with a lot of pent-up emotions that made him more open and vulnerable to him.

“Damn you to hell Reo.” Isagi sobbed quietly as he weakly punched his chest with his other hand before his head leaned down against his shoulder, his tears soaking the lapels of his shirt but Reo didn’t care as both of his arms wrapped around Isagi.

“Of course, we can still fix this… I’m a hypocrite if I don’t forgive or still want you after all of this because my heart was uncontrollably fond of you. I love you so fucking much that even it bleeds, it would still only beat for you Reo. I don’t think I can fall in love with someone like this ever again. When we’re back in Hawaii… doing those couple-y things in front of the others just to give the media some good news and content… I can’t help but to wish that it was real. That we don’t have to pretend anymore…” Isagi’s voice was muffled against his shirt.

“Does that mean….?” Reo swallowed thickly as he slowly pulled away and one of his hands reached out towards Isagi’s face and his finger tilted his chin up to him so that their eyes met.

Stormy ocean blue eyes clashing against his dark, indigo ones.

“Yes Reo… I’m willing to start all over again with you. I’m willing to gamble my heart again for you. I’m scared but with you I know it’s going to be worth it. So, please don’t break my heart again or I don’t think I can handle the pain the second time around… I’m sorry if I run away from you these past few days… I just got scared that after all this time you still want to be with Nagi after all… But believed me I wanted to talk to you after I clear things out in my head…” Isagi said with a watery smile on his face.

Reo smiled softly through his tears and wiped it away with his thumb. “Thank God Isagi. I won’t make any grand promises about our future together because I know that loving me won’t be easy but I just want to let you know that I won’t make you regret it. I won’t be holding back anymore. I don’t want to make the same mistakes like in the past again. I’ll make sure to show you how much I love you every single day of our lives. And for what’s it worth, you also held my heart in your hands because I won’t be falling in love with another like I do with you. So, I’m also requesting to please take care of it as I do with you…” He replied softly before he cupped his cheeks and leaned down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss, wanting to let the other know his sincerity and genuineness of his words through his embrace alone.

“I miss this Reo… I miss you so damn much and how good it feels your lips against mine… the way you touch me… Please Reo… I want to experience that kind of feeling again…” Isagi whimpered against his lips as he wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him fully on the mouth.

“With much pleasure my love.” Reo mumbled hotly against his lips as his hands settled on his waist while Isagi removed any remaining gap between the two of them and jumped on him, his legs wrapping firmly against Reo’s hips as their kisses grew fervent and passionate, their tongues dancing against each and battled for dominance.

I've been looking sad in all the nicest places

Baby, baby, I feel crazy

I see you around in all these empty faces

Up all night, all night and every day

I've been looking sad in all the nicest places

Give me something, oh, but you say nothing

Now I'm in a cab, I tell 'em where your place is

What is happening to me?

Reo backed Isagi against the wall while his lips continued devouring his in an electrifying kiss that sent goosebumps along Isagi’s skin. Reo’s hands gripped his waist tightly to keep his support and leverage against him. He swallowed every moan, grunt of pleasure and helpless mewls that slipped past Isagi’s lips as he successfully dominated his mouth with his passionate kisses. His tongue was licking every sensitive nook and crevice inside his mouth that had the other shivering like a leaf against him.

One of Isagi’s hands had made its way towards Reo’s scalp and threaded his fingers across his silky, purple locks as he kissed him back ravenously, their longingness and pent-up emotions with one another was pouring out from their actions alone. His mouth molded sensually against the other’s own as it was like a piece of a missing puzzle. Isagi couldn’t help but to rub himself against him heatedly, the sizzling friction creeping up on their bodies which made Reo groaned against his mouth before pulling away and breathed raggedly on the side of his neck.

“Fuck Isagi. If you keep doing that, I may not be able to hold myself back…” He said hoarsely.

“Who says you must hold back Reo? I want you to show me how much you love me like what I’m doing in return so please make love to me the way you like it…” Isagi replied breathlessly as his hand kneaded his scalp enticingly.

Reo chuckled under his breath. “You’re really something else. But that’s one of the reasons why I fell in love with you.”

He didn’t waste his time as he hauled off Isagi away from the wall and carried him towards the bed where he placed him gently on the mattress. He discarded his shirt and threw it carelessly on the ground where Isagi could only watched in silence, completely enraptured of the dangerous yet mesmerizing beauty of the young heir.

Their eyes met. Instead of the usual smirk or teasing grin Reo threw at him, he gave him a gentle and loving smile and it almost made Isagi wept because of how that simple yet sincere smile that’s full of love and genuineness made his heart giddy and burst out of happiness. He tried to look away to hide the expression on his face, his cheeks heating up because he looked vulnerable right now in front of him.

Reo looked at him softly before he leaned down and tilted his face towards his direction so that they were looking at each other.

“Now don’t take your eyes away from me my darling. I just want you to look at me as I do with you. I want to see your face. How your eyes glimmered when our gazes met. How your whole countenance spoke of enthralling volumes that never failed to keep me mesmerized and in love with you. So, please Yoichi keep looking at me.” He murmured, his warm breath ghosting over his skin which made Isagi’s breath got caught up in his throat.

“God Reo when you’re cheesy like that how can I even refuse you?” Isagi tried to play it casual and rolled his eyes playfully but it didn’t hide the loud beat of his heart inside his chest.

Reo chuckled softly under his breath. “You just bring out in me.” He whispered before he closed the remaining distance between the two of them and captured his lips in a deep yet captivating kiss.

Isagi returned his kiss passionately, looping his arms around his neck while Reo’s hands busied themselves in unbuttoning his shirt and undressing him slowly.

The rational part of Isagi’s mind was slowly shutting down as he could only drown himself in the addicting sensation of Reo’s warm and soft lips devouring his pliant ones, not even registering on how the other male had successfully undressed both him and himself and threw all their clothes recklessly on the other side of the room.

The cold draft of the air from the air conditioner that hit Isagi’s skin sent shivers along his spine. But it was soon replaced with a scintillating sensation when he felt Reo’s hand wander around his torso, his warm palm leaving a trail of fire underneath which made the need burned brighter inside of him.

Sweet moans left from Isagi’s lips as Reo’s mouth descended on the pale column of his throat, showering it with love bites and enthusiastic kisses that had him trembling like a helpless kitten beneath him. As Reo’s hands kept wandering and caressing every fiber of his skin eagerly, one of Isagi’s hands took the same route and couldn’t keep it to themselves as it ventured out naughtily in one of his thighs and gave it a teasing squeeze which made the young heir shudder against him. His reaction spurred Isagi on and he grew bolder as one of his fingertips reached out across his throbbing cock and brushed along its tip teasingly.

Reo cursed under his breath. “Fuck Isagi… I won’t last long if you keep on doing that…” He groaned out as he murmured against his neck.

A light gasp escaped Isagi’s lips upon feeling his hot breaths tickling across his skin. “C-can’t help it Reo… Want you so bad… I haven’t touch nor kiss you for so long, I can’t deny my body’s wishes…” Isagi whispered breathlessly as his hand now enveloped on his cock fully and started to stroke it.

A low chuckle slipped past Reo’s lips before it was interrupted by a series of moans as he felt Isagi’s hand stroking him harder and faster in return.

“Your mouth and body are both honest this time and I like it… Although I do appreciate you being stubborn and shy back then with me in Hawaii… I understand your impatience as I can’t probably deal with it if you also tease me for any longer.” Reo whispered back seductively before he claimed his lips in one, last dirty kiss that stole Isagi’s breath away before he pulled away and situated himself properly on top of him and made his legs wrapped perfectly against his hips for leverage and support.

Without any further ado, he gave a one swift thrust and breached his velvety walls with an avid ferocity which made them both moaned out in delight and lust. Isagi’s lips parted and his jaw grew slack as he felt the wide girth of his cock stretching him to his limit and the way it pulsated with need inside of him that made him trembled sweetly against his arms.

“F-fuck Reo…!” He stammered as his hands made its way to his back and gripped it tightly.

Reo’s eyes grew dark as his pupils were blown wide with lust and need that drew Isagi in and couldn’t help but to let the other ravished him completely. He sent him a devious smirk which made his nerves skyrocketed inside his pulse before he felt Reo’s movements increased in tempo and speed. His thrusts grew deeper and harder and Isagi could only mewl helplessly beneath him, his body reacting instinctively against the other’s ministrations and grinded back harder in return which caused the bed to creak against their wild movements.

“Fuck! I missed this Yoichi! Missed being this close to you… Missed being inside of you… Missed the feeling of your lips against mine… I fucking missed all of this…! God, you’re squeezing me tight here! I love it when you’re trying take all of me like you’re born for it…!” Reo growled out lowly as he leaned down and sucked one of his sensitive nubs on his chest needily while his other hand kneaded on the other side of his chest, his fingers twisting and rubbing on his nub eagerly. He couldn’t stop nor slow down as his hips kept on moving wildly and railed him voraciously on the mattress that had Isagi screaming and moaning like a bitch in heat under him.

“Fuck! Reo! Fuck it’s good! But ‘s too much! Ah! Ah! Ah! God, you’re getting bigger inside of me! Why’re so big! Please! Hit there harder!” Isagi babbled incoherently as tears of pleasure streamed down his face from the onslaught of overwhelming emotions bombarding him at once as Reo piston his insides in wild abandon while his mouth and hands were busy on preying sinfully on his chest simultaneously.

Without any warning, Isagi arched against him like a bow and a blissful shudder wracked around his body as he suddenly reached his peak and painted their chests with the silver splashes of his cum.

A weak groan escaped Isagi’s lips as Reo continued to rail him recklessly on the bed, his body oversensitive from the overwhelming sensations that shot right through his body. He held into him tightly before Reo unlatched his mouth from his chest and let out a loud groan as he reached his climax and painted his walls hotly with his cum. Isagi could only mewl out in delight and satisfaction as he felt being filled up to his brim instantaneously to the point that his cum dripped down his legs slowly.

For a moment, nothing could be heard inside their room except for their ragged breathing and loud heartbeats inside their chests.

Just as Isagi thought that Reo might pull out and roll away from him, a surprise moan erupted from his lips as Reo suddenly hoisted him up on his lap with his cock still inside of him which made it throbbed deeper inside of him because of their new position in bed: Reo was leaning on the bedframe and his hands settled on his hips as he hugged Isagi on his lap, his mouth raining on butterfly kisses across his neck.

“I love you Yoichi. I’ll never get tired of showing it to you…” He mumbled hotly against his skin.

This made Isagi smiled softly at him and cupped his cheeks with both of his hands as he made him looked up to him directly to his face.

“I’m glad that the feeling is mutual. And you mean by not getting tired of showing it to me is something like this?” Isagi’s eyes sparkled in mischief as he rolled his hips against him which earned a guttural moan from the other.

“I’m glad that my dear husband is quick on the uptake. Of course, I love showing it to you in so many ways since we all have the time in the world to make it up for it.” Reo replied huskily before their lips met in a deep and sensual kiss and get lost in a desirous haze of passion and love with each other once again.

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain

And I don't wanna fit wherever

I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

Until you come back home

(A/N: If you reached this part then I’d like to congratulate you for sticking with me until the end of this fic and giving out my sincere thanks for the continuous support of my story. I usually don’t write long, multi-chaptered ship fics because I got a lot of ideas in my head and I want to move on quickly with the next project. But Reosagi has a different hold in my heart and it’s my favorite ship now in the fandom because of its endless possibilities and how their character complements with one another. I guessed I got really inspired with this ship that I ended up writing a 12-chapter story for them. I might do a one-shot sequel for this ship and probably a short spin off sequel for Nagi as I want him to have a separate plot and story on the aftermath of the events in this story. So, stay tuned for that. For now, I might take a bit of a break as I got exhausted in finishing this story altogether. Reviews and kudos are much appreciated).

#blue lock #fanfiction #reosagi #rois #chapter 12 #angst #drama #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #marriage of convenience #spoilers #alternate universe #canon divergence #mikage reo #isagi yoichi #reo x isagi

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nevermindirah · 2 years

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Matthias Schoenaerts movies, ranked by my transmasc feels

a very scientific analysis you’re contractually obligated to agree with read and maybe reblog if you feel like it! proud to be joining the ranks of these excellent Matthias movie posts, hair edition and vibes/plot/nudity/etc edition

first of all, dishonorable mention / disqualified: all the ones where he plays a Nazi or a rapist or otherwise dealbreaker-to-me levels of creep:

A Hidden Life

Red Sparrow

Suite Française — though if you don't have the immediate ABSOLUTELY NOT reaction to a Nazi uniform that I do, I hear it's a beautiful movie, and you may enjoy this lovely little post-movie fic by @mprosperossprite

The Loft

The Drop

Blood Ties

Loft

Left Bank (though that one gifset, you know the one, is so valid)

and now, with one exception, all the ones I’ve seen:

The Danish Girl

I have never seen and will never see this movie. a trans woman is played by a cis man and Matthias doesn't even have a beard so the stills from it aren't even fun to look at what the fuck

Racer and the Jailbird | Le Fidèle

a tragic absence of beard and a tragic fear of dogs and tragically heterosexual fashion, but very romantic and sexy and has what I choose to read as a happy ending. something/10 will watch again despite the Heterosexuality of it all

Rust and Bone | De rouille et d'os

wow this guy's a terrible father with major entitlement issues. however, ARMS. (it's totally just the arms yep just the arms)

Close Enemies | Frères ennemis

he loves his friends!! what a smart and resourceful boy just trying to survive in a fucked-up world!! but he kisses his ex-wife despite her repeated verbal "no" and as a result we do not stan.

Our Souls at Night

dude, let your mom have a boyfriend!! it's sweet that you're worried though, maybe you can ask her how it's going while y'all go shopping and she helps you pick out something nicer than those dorky polos you beautiful sad-dad idiot. (in his defense, his mom's boyfriend is known Bucky Barnes terrorizer Alexander Pierce so his concern is understandable)

The Mustang

prisons are trauma factories and should not exist. I could go look for sources to link you on this or on how animal therapy reduces future incidents of violent crime, but instead I’m gonna sit here and stew in my feels over this sad dad who's such a mess but he sure is Trying

Brothers by Blood

lorge. wears a kippah in that one scene. so gentle with the person he's dating. cares about his friends (I think, I watched it once a year ago and barely remember the plot, only vibes remain). lorge.

The Command | Kursk

HEARTBREAKING. WHAT IS THE FUCKING POINT OF COMMUNISM IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LISTEN TO THE WORKERS YOU BASTARDS. oh and before all the heartbreak there's some very domestic sexiness on a couch, that part was a joy, who am I kidding the whole thing was a joy and I am in pain about it

The Laundromat

NO I WILL NOT LEAVE MY WIFE NOT EVEN FOR A BILLION DOLLARS. ALSO LOOK AT MY SUIT DON'T I LOOK SHARP IN THIS SUIT

Tunnelrat

it's hard to have social dysphoria when you're trapped in a collapsed trench tunnel with only one other person who doesn’t even speak your language! downsides include dehydration, starvation, potential asphyxiation, knowing if you escape all the mud you'll probably get shot, and— wait no actually I like the mustache that's not a downside the mustache can stay

ps this is a short and you can watch the whole thing right here

A Bigger Splash

why will tumblr not let me locate let alone embed that gif of him on his knees for Tilda Swinton WHY. I suppose this one will have to do

Far from the Madding Crowd

hey look, look, rugged masculinity can be SOFT!! he loves his dog and all the animals under his care and he proposes marriage with a lamb. if only this book weren't written by a misogynist then Bathsheba could be free and happy and probably a lesbian like she deserves but at least I get to look at SOFT MASCULINITY WITH A DOG

A Little Chaos

oh the joys of a time and place where ornate fashion and long hair are a normal and celebrated part of masculinity. God I wish my jawline looked like that so I wouldn't get misgendered 100% of the time if I grew my hair out.

oh and also the little thing of treating a woman as an intellectual equal and changing your opinion and your behavior as a result of new information I am SCREAMING

Disorder | Maryland

I, too, have ptsd. however I also have the experience of being afab and knowing how scary it is when men stare too long and randomly punch things. so, like, dude. Vincent. please get therapy. in the meantime I'm gonna keep staring at you and reminding myself of how femme of center people might be understandably wary of me sometimes and I need to not do accidentally scary shit like walking too close on the sidewalk, it's cool I only worry about this a normal amount

The Old Guard

I'll just go ahead and point you here and here

And the winner is...

Bullhead | Rundskop

this guy's got major boundary issues, hmm wonder where that comes from, could it have anything to do with his parents thinking it was ok to stop him from accessing hrt he desperately needed wtf

content warning, esp for fellow trans people thinking about watching this movie: there's literally a scene where, shortly after young Jacky experiences testicular trauma (that scene isn't the very most graphic physically but is extremely graphic emotionally), a doctor tells his parents that he needs to take testosterone and their reaction is basically "no child of mine!!" >:(

it's a great movie though and my asks are open for any questions you've got! just say so if you want a private response <3

#why am i like this #matthias schoenaerts #trans things #mine

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shcmook · 1 year

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I’ve said for years that my favorite game of all time is Zelda: Wind Waker. But the more I think about it, the more I think that, with a few niche exceptions, Breath of the Wild actually does the things I like best about WW better than WW itself.

Like. The way the major items have uses in both combat AND traversal is naturally part of everything in BOTW, where traversal is such a bigger part of the game and there’s more depth to the combat.

Wind waker introduced enemy spoils and the ability to steal enemy weapons. Both are actively part of BOTW’s main gameplay loop.

I love treasure hunting in WW but money is worth far more in BOTW where there’s way more shops worth visiting.

The vibe of adventure and exploration that WW nails is backed up in botw with way more stuff to explore.

There’s a moment I love in WW where you learn that Ganon caught wise to what your plan to beat him was, and fully destroyed the island where you were headed instead of hiding the third macguffin in a slightly tougher dungeon. It’s a shocking moment where the stakes suddenly feel way higher and the tone darkens. And… finding the ruins of Ganon’s destruction is a core part of BOTW. That kind of environmental storytelling is way deeper and *EVERYWHERE*.

I hate being forced into dungeons when I would rather explore the overworld, and BOTW gives me that option AND promises that exploration gets easier and more fun the more you *do* do the dungeons.

I love tetra but I think BOTW!zelda is the absolute best version of the character.

Lynel fights feel like better versions of WW’s best minibosses.

The Terry Town quest in BOTW isn’t quite better than the trading quest in WW, imo, but it comes damn close.

The vast majority of what that remains is like. The soundtrack is better in WW, but BOTW’s reserved OST was a deliberate design choice. The world feels less connected in BOTW and WW doesn’t have any story characters half as annoying or forgettable as BOTW’s present day rito or goron dudes.

I think link’s character arcs kinda cancel out as being equally good in both games.

I think the sympathetic old warrior voe Ganondorf is way WAY more interesting than mindless goo monster Calamity Ganon. But I certainly don’t hate the more existential threat calamity Ganon represents either.

TLDR I think I may have to reconsider the order of my favorite games list, the top placement of which I haven’t truly changed in nearly two decades.

#legend of zelda #wind waker #breath of the wild #nintendo switch #wii u

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the-messenger-hawk · 2 years

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Tower of God

Favorite character: Wangnan my beloved (haha, no come back king, i miss you) Least Favorite character: I feel its too easy with this series' large cast, so I gotta name a reoccurring one. I mean, probably Buelsar? He's one of Yama's Mad Dogs, but he didn't give off much of an impression, design or personality-wise. Baragav was way more memorable. 5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Wangnan+Bam or Khun (or both) -I like both dynamics equally but for wildly different reasons

Edorsi+Ehwa (literal hot girl summer)

Goseng+Horyang (technically the only canon one)

Karaka+Yuri (enemies to rivals vibes) -a bit more now that Karaka's getting more of a conscience from hanging with the heroes

Khun+Shibisu ("khun my love") -a holdover from previous fandoms. I do often go for the dual strategists juice

Character I find most attractive: Yuri Ha Zahard, the berserker fighting style combined with the rose aesthetic really is quite the combo. Character I would marry: Lero-Ro. He's attractive, powerful, and a reasonable/loyal mentor figure--an absolute win! (He's also Wolhaiksong now, which is the only organization in the Tower that I actually trust not to be bastards.) Also, that voice... Character(s) I would be best friends with: Probably Shibisu. He's the most down to earth, and we'd have the most in common.

a random thought: it think that--out of all the unshown Family Heads, the one I want to see most right now is Tperie, the wielder of the Eyes of God. He's the one who created the Opera Lighthouses, that can observe anywhere in the Tower, and I have to assume that he's also deeply in the know about the situation. I'm also very curious about why Repellista has one of them (I've been wondering about this since I found out what the Opera was). An unpopular opinion: Idk what of my opinions in the this fandom would be considered unpopular? My Canon OTP: Goseng and Horyang being super cute together is all that I desire to fill this hole in my heart My Non-canon OTP: The Checks-and-Balances trio Most Badass Character: Ha Jinsung. Up until Part 3, he felt like the dragon that everyone was too afraid to start poking. (Except S&S apparently...) Most Epic Villain: King Zahard stole this spot the moment his current self appeared and no-selled everything that was thrown at him. There's still a lot of mystery surrounding him and I want to know everything. Pairing I am not a fan of: As much as I like their teamwork and teasing dynamic, I think I'd rather the relationship between Wangnan and Ehwa remained platonic. Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): I can't really say anything at this stage. Favourite Friendship:

Them :')

Character I most identify with: Shibisu for sure. (tbh with his relative strength and involvement in current events, I'm on constant pins-and-needles for his safety.) Character I wish I could be: Eduan. Give me your kids, drunk, you don't deserve them.

#tower of god #tower of god spoilers #tog spoilers #sort of #fandom ask #thank you!

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bryanevansduff · 11 months

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Code Of Conduct For Our Clan of Post-Apocalyptic Marauding Cannibals

Dear Fellow Post-Apocalyptic Marauding Cannibals,

Despite doing my best to keep our clan of cannibals as chaotic and anarchic as possible, it has recently come to my attention that many of you are forgetting what it means to be a part of the Terror Tribe and are in need of some guidance as to how to conduct yourselves accordingly. That is why I, Cutface, have set about to establish the following code of conduct of our clan of post-apocalyptic marauding cannibals.

First, allow us to discuss wardrobe. Simply put, we are in the fear business, which means we all need to strive to dress ourselves in a way that conveys malice and strikes horror into the heart of all the lost souls that have the misfortune of stumbling across one of us in the barren wasteland that is now our existence. Every item you choose to adorn yourself with must be selected with this intent in mind. Some example items include old bones of your enemies, old skulls of your enemies, sharp rocks, or old blood of your enemies. There is of course still room in the wardrobe for you to express your own individuality, so long as you continue to curate a very freaky, messed up vibe.

(For instance, DeathBath has strapped an old teddy bear across his chest. Though this on the surface might not sound that terrifying, his other adornments and overall demeanor succeed in making this a very scary thing.)

The next most important issue is that of what - and who - we eat. Cannibals, allow me to remind you that we are cannibals. Often I have come across some of you foraging under rocks for stray strands of moss or among the remains of civilizations for remaining canned or bottled goods. I get it, you’re hungry, and you don’t necessarily feel like chopping a person up and eating them since that can be real hassle. I remind you, however, that we have committed to this lifestyle - ever since we all took part in our initiation ceremony where we ate two of our own fingers - we have been disciples of the Terror Tribe. It is really this simple: if you and your friend are hungry, one of you needs to eat the other. Now, of course there are exceptions, such as the rare occasion when we decide to show mercy or remorse to some weary traveler, like a scientist who thinks he has a cure for the disease that wrecked the cursed planet, or a child who is on their way, but those are EXCEPTIONS, not rules. Just remember “if my teeth aren’t rotten, then eating flesh I have forgotten.”

The last thing I would like to bring to our attention is of course the matter of the work we do. Before you devoured your own digits and could still hold a pen, you signed a very simple NCC, otherwise known as a “non-compete clause.” That means you do not terrorize for any other clan other than the Terror Tribe. It doesn’t matter if it’s your side hustle or just a one-time consulting gig where you show a family how to ambush a Federation supply run, you need to be putting your entire effort into our clan. I really shouldn’t have to say this but the whole point of our existence is to strike as much fear into other people as possible. We want everyone else in this so-called life to feel the fear horror we feel at every single moment. That’s why we do what we do and any effort you’re putting into anything else is taking away from our shared purpose.

Also every other Friday you are allowed to sign off early.

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gertlushgaming · 1 year

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Legend of Keepers: Career of a Dungeon Manager Review (PlayStation 5)

For this Legend of Keepers: Career of a Dungeon Manager Review, where we play the perfect mix between Dungeon Defender and Roguelite. You have been hired as a dungeon manager by the Dungeons Company. Your job is simple: protect their dungeons!

Legend of Keepers: Career of a Dungeon Manager Review Pros:

- Nice graphics. - 875.2MB download size. - Platinum trophy. - You get the PlayStation 4 and the PlayStation 5 versions of the game. - Game settings - quick monster placing, and team management before dungeons (smart/never/always). - 3 save slots. - Dungeon management gameplay. - 2D perspective. - The goal of the game is to build a dungeon and have Ai-controlled heroes enter and attempt to kill everyone, including the boss, and take the loot. - You place traps and enemies in rooms and as the heroes kill them they advance to the next room until the final boss fight. - Turn-based combat with a turn order. - At the end of a successful loot defense, you get to see their stats etc. - Motivation plays a huge part and dictates how well your employees (monsters) perform. - Leave employees out of the dungeon to have them regain motivation. - You get to recruit a new employee from the defeated heroes. - Earn gold from playing. - Uses gold to buy new traps or employees, upgrade traps and improve your employees. - Multiple choice scenarios. - The schedule is a run-by run of your game. As you complete a task the next st will appear and most of the time you have to pick just one task each time. - Has a choose-your-own-adventure vibe. - The game plays out by you doing a preparation stage, placing traps and employees then the heroes enter and if needed you control the actions of employees in battle. - If you have ever heard of it the boardgame Boss Monster is a lot like this except the dungeons and rooms are also random. - Everyone will play it differently. - Complete control of placements. - Fast loading times. - Randomized schedules and random events can happen at any time. - Game difficulty is based on the dungeon and uses a one to Five swords difficulty scale. - So satisfying to play and watch play out. - The game gets very addictive. - Collect resources along the way and use them for items, events, etc. - At the end of a victory, you may get items, traps, or upgrades to choose from rather than new employees. - Passives, abilities, and elements like poison and ice play a huge part. - Statuses can turn battle like terrified and stunned. - When an employee dies he remains in the game as he gets reanimated by the team Liech. - Three game speeds are controlled with a button press. - Good soundtrack. - You can stack elemental effects and have a load of them on one person at one time. - The archivist will keep track of all encountered employees and heroes along with items and traps. - It's all run-based in that once you give up or run out of employees the game ends. - The end-of-run breakdown shows weeks played, dungeons defended, gold, blood, and tears collected, employees slaughtered and heroes killed along with a final score. - Your master is your character in all this and at the end of a run, you level up and get skill points to unlock new buffs and abilities. - World map level select. - New run settings - 3 difficulties (easy/normal/hard), heroes strength slider, gold gains slider, masters life (yours), motivation lost slider, and game length slider from normal to long. - Six masters to unlock and play. You get one initially then unlock the rest. Legend of Keepers: Career of a Dungeon Manager Review Cons: No real game Options. - Cannot rebind controls. - A lot to take in initially. - Not always clear on what does what. - Small text. - Any menu Related actions in-game are not the best. - A slow starter. - Doesn't have a confirmed preparation step so you can accidentally finish. - In combat, you only pick the action, not the target. Related Post: LEGO 2K Drive Legend of Keepers: Career of a Dungeon Manager: Official website. Developer: Goblinz Studio Publisher: Goblinz Studio Store Links - PlayStation Read the full article

#Indie #PlayStation4 #PlayStation5

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frozenspraycans · 3 years

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AWTWB rant-review: The Good, The Bad, and An Oddly Specific Amount of Focus on Penelope Bunce

Major spoilers ahead.

Rowell has always been my favourite author. I grew up with her books, and rode through the hype of Eleanor and Park, Fangirl, and the Simon Snow series in real time. I spent a lot of my high school days carrying around Carry On with the original 2015 cover – Simon and Baz in yellow and blue silhouettes, when they were faceless characters up to the imagination of the audience. Rowell remained the only author that stayed with me past my coming-of-age years, and into early adulthood (not kidding, the only fiction books on my shelf right now are the ones that belong to the Simon Snow series). Admittedly, the most important feature of a story to me are the characters – and Rowell has exceptional talent in that department. I truly believe Rowell’s books have the best written characters in contemporary culture.

Like most, I fell in love with Carry On because of the beautifully written enemies-to-lovers trope portrayed by Simon and Baz. I read Carry On at the height of my teenage years – when I was 14/15, and when you’re young the most spectacular thing a story can give you is a heartfelt romance. It’s sweet and lovely and meets every expectation a lovesick teenager could have. I think this is why the sequel didn’t translate well to the majority of readers, when suddenly the one thing that was so sure in the previous book – Simon and Baz’s relationship – fell apart.

On the first read, I was aggrieved by the length of Wayward Son and the loss of the most prominent part of the stories – where were the sweet moments between Simon and Baz? The solace I found in the dramatic revelation of their love for each other? I finished Wayward Son, closed the book, and shelved it.

But then I came back to it after a few months, after going through a series of unfortunate events that led to a very harrowing wakeup call faced by many early twenty-somethings, and upon rereading I started really appreciating how . . . broken every character in Wayward Son was.

I believe one of the many reasons why Wayward Son wasn’t greatly received is because people read to escape. And that’s a perfectly good reason – but Wayward Son wasn’t meant to be a smooth-sailing read. I think it was supposed to be an emotionally-wrenching, agitating read, where it dangled a lot of fulfilling prospects only to snatch them away – and that it had successfully completed its objective. You weren’t supposed to escape from the angst and sadness and brokenness faced by all the characters, you were supposed to sit and bask and make peace with it, accepting for what it was instead of what it could be.

To me, Wayward Son felt like Rowell boldly trying something new, ignoring the cries and opinions of its fawning community, deciding to just put her foot down and do her own thing. It made me like her writing even more – that she didn’t care what the audience wanted, with millions begging for Simon and Baz to just be together, for everything to turn out okay and right and happily ever after. That personally set up super high expectations for AWTWB. I was excited for what AWTWB brings, and excited for Rowell to experimentally subvert my expectations once again.

Well . . .

Now, a quick numbered list because oh boy, there’s so much to get through:

The good:

1. The first few chapters of Simon and Baz — the screaming, anguish, and the breaking up. The entire chapter where Baz was just sending unread messages to Simon. How do you describe something as the total opposite of a continuity error? It felt continuously right, and put us right where Wayward Son left off. I love when Rowell uses these kinds of non-traditional formats – it had the similar vibe in Wayward Son when Baz was listing off a bunch of things he hated at the moment. The realisation that Simon and Baz couldn’t figure it out, and that it was better to just let go of each other for a while – it felt like they were running out of the building in flames before it collapsed, and the dramatic urgency surrounding it was very, very thrillingly good.

2. Fiona – on the motherfuckin’ roll! Always liked her, and humanising her using the grief from Natasha’s death was really fulfilling to her character. Did not like how she was paired off with Nico, though the weird amount of effort put into ensuring almost every other character ended up with a romantic partner is another topic that’s gonna be unpacked later.

3. The moment when the gang – Simon, Baz, Penelope, Shepard – met up again to save Pippa and take down Smith-Richards. It was highly reminiscent of them being on the road in varying degrees of danger in America – Rowell has a spectacular knack for writing character dynamics in group settings. Wonder why she didn’t use it much this time round. Will expand this further too. I enjoyed the callback to Pippa too, though I wish we could spend more time with her.

4. I didn’t mind that the plot moves on from America. I was worried at first because I read tons of reviews about this point, but no, the characters didn’t completely forget about America. The topic and memories made its way to almost every conversation and fleeting thought that the characters had, and them dropping the case had a good enough reason to me – and this is coming from a massive Wayward Son fan. In addition, it pairs very well with Agatha mentioning how selfish and awful magicians are – only protecting and looking out for themselves in the World of Mages. (The actual plot, however –)

5. I notice many people criticising the pacing of AWTWB, but I’ve always liked that feature in Rowell’s books. It goes however fast and slow it wants, disregarding traditional pacing rules. I didn’t mind that the major Smith-Richards plot kicked in way too many chapters later (Carry On had a similar format with Baz showing up at the middle of the book). It makes it special.

6. The final unpopular opinion: I liked the epilogue. I don’t necessarily like where Agatha ended up, but I like that it was Agatha that had the final say, and I like that it was short. It felt like a bittersweet goodbye, and I’m satisfied that it ended that abruptly. But this is more of a personal opinion, because I greatly prefer short, snappy, open endings that leave readers on their seat wanting more over longer-winding “conclusive” endings where you know what each character is up to. I made peace with this send-off. It’s good.

Now . . . onto the bad:

1. The separate subplots divided between Simon and Baz, Penny and Shepard, Agatha and Niamh. Again – Rowell’s strength lies in group settings and dynamics, which was why Wayward Son stood out with the characters having to work together throughout the book, the high stakes of the troubling situations were loosened up by the constant chatter in the air. In AWTWB, every conversation between the pairings felt a bit stiff, like the two characters were held at gunpoint while being forced to carry out a scene together. The easygoing spirit was absent despite the threats not being as big as the previous books – it didn’t feel as fluent or natural at all, and it made me deeply miss just seeing the kids hang out with no full obligation to keep the conversation going, each of them being able to bounce off each other in delivering comedic wit whenever they want. Even with Agatha, the character who was prominently running solo for most of the series, had the most breathable scenes goat herding with Simon and Baz.

This isn't to say I wanted AWTWB to be 100% pure joy, the opposite actually: Wayward Son showcased how the jarring flip between this sitcom-like backdrop of warm group chat banter and the serious moments made the latter more prominent and gut-wrenching – the small pockets of moments between Simon and Baz in the firefly field and the truck, Baz being trashed after his 'date' with Lamb, confronting the NowNext vampires, etc. The group interactions are solid groundwork for where the more serious moments can shine even better. This book made me STARVED for them, grimacing at the awkward conversations each pairing were dragging on their suffering with. It felt like everyone just fell away from each other, despite just going through hell and back together in the book before.

2. Agatha not being the one to uncover Lucy’s mystery. Carry On had implicitly given this mission to Agatha, all with her keeping Lucy’s old picture and the similar parallels of being women kept by the side of prominent figures in the World of Mages, and trying to escape from being deeply entrenched by them before it swallowed them whole. History repeating itself, and Agatha being the one that managed to get away. I am conflicted with her return to the UK, but her little goat subplot, away from the other characters’ bullshit, was super satisfying to read through in typical Agatha-style – however I can’t figure out what makes her important enough to stick around in AWTWB. I wish there was more clarification to Agatha’s importance to the Simon Snow series.

3. Shepard being out of his element. I mean, it’s kind of expected with him out of America where Rowell is definitely more familiar with – but damn, I did miss how suave and “Don’t worry, I got this” he was back in America, when he had the advantage of his extensive magickal friendship networks and knowing where everything was in its place, which enabled him to make the calls and offer wisdom in finalising decisions within the group. He also played a super vital role in contributing to the lightheartedness of the atmosphere, which was left with the otherwise exhausted-from-America gang. Shepard seemed to have lost his spark the moment he landed in the UK, and was reduced down to just being a curious tag-along dragged around in AWTWB. I miss you king.

4. Smith-Richards was . . . alright. The whole Chosen One plot was just alright. Nothing as intimidating as the Mage or NowNext, but he did bring the group back together, and I guess I can thank him for that. (Side note: I really wanted one of them to be like: “The gang’s back!” when they finally met each other again and acknowledged how much being apart from each other sucks. Ugh.)

5. I wish Niamh had more time to talk about the student politics of Simon Snow being the Chosen One and his “popular” group of friends at their time in Watford. It was interesting to see a third party perspective outside the peripherals' of the main cast, and how it must be so annoying getting caught in the crossfire between Simon and the Humdrum – but whenever she started to expand on it, she got cut off.

And finally . . . the most deeply-entrenched problem of AWTWB.

6. Penelope, romance, and other misfortunes in the department of friendships

Oh man. As the character that was with Simon since the very start, she deserves way better than how AWTWB treated her.

Penelope became my favourite character after Wayward Son. Fresh from her breakup from Micah, she seemed to solidify her identity with the hurt, so I was disappointed to see that she just went back to square one.

Majorly under-utilised. Penelope felt a little too all over the place and complacent all at once. Shepard just replaced Simon in the magickal boy that her whole plot revolved around with. People might say that that’s her job as the designated self-declared sidekick, but in Wayward Son she had shown a lot of independence with making her own decisions, and she became a side character whose focus on character development matched up to Simon’s level.

However, in AWTWB she was back to being under another boy’s thumb, which was an incredible disservice to her. If she was going to be separated from the group, she deserved a subplot structure similar to Agatha’s. Not solving other people’s problems, but her own – processing the breakup, finding her own identity outside of playing the role of Simon’s devoted loyal caretaker-sidekick and best friend who he could apparently unaffectedly dump any time (oh boy, is THIS gonna be angrily unpacked later). When Simon asked for her help with Smith-Richards, she texted back saying that they shouldn’t continue to investigate magickal problems, while she was DOING EXACTLY THAT WITH SHEPARD? HUH?!

The dilution of Simon and Penelope’s friendship was the most tragic thing to come out of AWTWB. It was upsetting to see that the friendship that had been once so solid from the beginning start to slowly disintegrate into an increasingly one-sided mess. Penelope was way more shaken up by the breakup of their friendship than Simon ever was. Many people kept pointing out how weird it was for Penelope to be seen separated from Simon – meanwhile no one ever talked to Simon about his friendship with Penelope in the same demeaning way. Simon’s apology for the breakup was off-screen (AAAAAA I HATE THOSE! It feels so insincere! Especially now that we know Penelope went through a massive depressive episode because of it!). Penelope wasn’t there when Simon uncovered his family lineage, and what made it worse was that he was going to keep it from her for a while.

When Lady Ruth saw Baz holding Simon’s hand, she thought: “I’m glad he’s not alone in this. That he has someone to take his hand.” It made me enraged! Simon was never alone! What an insult to his lifelong friendship with Penelope, who had been loyally by his side for years during the whole Mage disaster timeline, which Baz only came in at the very END (I give credit where it’s due, but c’mon now – Penelope was the one holding Simon’s hand during the peak of the Watford-Humdrum-Mage fiasco over the years).

“I envy what he has with Bunce. They act like this is their tenth tour of duty together. It makes me realise that Simon had a whole life I didn’t know back in school.”

One of my favourite quotes from Baz among many in Wayward Son that proved Penelope to be more than a side character cheering in the sidelines. Simon and Penelope were a duo with a bond that even Baz, Simon’s lover that should supposedly be prioritised over everyone else, acknowledged as something that was really important to Simon. That is one of the VERY rare things I see well-established in YA romance genre novels. The “best friend sidekick” character trope is always present, but never emphasised as well or crucial as Simon and Penelope’s friendship.

This, contrasted with “It’s not like we were going to spend our whole lives in each other’s pockets” when Penelope’s dad asked about Simon’s whereabouts, absolutely killed me, especially considering before Baz came into the picture, they WERE going to (Penelope talking about her future plans with Simon back in Carry On).

Romantic love has really adversely affected Simon’s other important relationships – as if those two things can’t mutually co-exist. This particular point was so difficult to stomach, all with Simon’s mental health being at its lowest points, where he needed a solid support system the most. Yes, there may be times when Penelope may be overbearing to Simon, and their friendship breakup served a good purpose as well – but the reconciliation and payoff weren’t well-handled at all. Just because it’s a platonic friendship doesn’t mean it should get any lesser priority and screen time to Simon and Baz’s romantic relationship – it just weakens the bonds the characters have with each other.

Not a big fan of her ending up romantically involved with Shepard. There were many lines that could be interpreted as Penelope not having a romantic endgame, and proudly so. She has mentioned tons of times that she dated Micah because it ‘made sense’; in contrast to Simon and Baz’s grand love story, Penelope always treated romance like a checklist rather than something to indulge in – get married to a boy she met in Watford, someone that fits in the equation – just like her parents. I was eagerly waiting for the moment for Penelope to pause, look at how deeply in love Simon and Baz was, and realise: “Huh. Maybe I don’t like guys. Or girls. Maybe I don’t have to be with anyone. Maybe I don’t want to be with anyone”. It would fit with her independent character development learnt from the mistake that was dating Micah out of convenience, continuing to kick ass as she remained best friends with Shephard, being another great example that M/F platonic soulmate friendships can continue to exist with everlasting resilience with no romantic motive.

I know that both she and Agatha are often headcanoned as aroace – I'm not pushing the fact that they should have those labels, but it would have just been so cool to have someone that objected and didn’t desire a love story similar to Simon’s. Ugh, speaking of, there were no interactions between the two main girls – I miss seeing Penelope interact enthusiastically with an otherwise unwilling Agatha. They were carrying comedy gold.

Admittedly, this distressing rant might have derived from where my preferences in favourite characters and relationships changed overtime. When I was a lovesick teenager, I was exclusively fixated by the charm that is Simon and Baz’s romance – but now as an adult, I appreciated and preferred the fun, platonic banter between the characters. Doesn’t matter which ones, any interaction between non-romantic relationships was such a strong point in Carry On and Wayward Son – ugh, I just miss it all so much.

All in all, trailing after the dilution of Simon and Penelope’s friendship, I was disappointed that AWTWB didn’t continue with the found family group dynamic that Wayward Son built up. At least in Carry on, Penelope, Simon, and Baz were a solid trio. Now it feels too aired out, with everyone broken in tinier pieces. Like outside their own pairings, instead of being lifelong best friends bonded through the highs and lows of growing up in Watford and a wild ass trip slaying vampires in America, they became co-workers who couldn’t stand to be around each other for too long.

This story just seemed like an ending to all endings in terms of who-romantically-ends-up-with-who. Even god damn Fiona! (I don’t think anyone was wondering who she ended up with!)

I expected AWTWB to have gone down a route similar to The Good Place – a bunch of friends, with some ending up with a lifelong romantic partner and soulmate, and others living equally fulfilling lives without such. The Simon Snow series had always stood out with its character relationships outside romance, but now it just feels like a super stale story with what-it-says-on-the-can.

All in all, I wish I could give it above 2/5 stars. I wanted to enjoy this so bad, because this series has stayed and meant so much to me for so long. But everything just feels so bleak, riding on its past waves and references, reminiscent of the time when this series used to be so full of life.

Reading this had felt like walking into an abandoned church past its glory days.

I hope you’ll find a good therapist. Goodbye, Simon Snow.

#simon snow #carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #awtwb spoilers #awtwb meta #awtwb rant #awtwb review #thoughts #snowbaz #penelope bunce #agatha wellbelove #basilton pitch #shepard love #can i get (back) the found family dynamic... can i PLEASE–#70% just ranting about the concept of romantic endgames and how weirdly sidelined penny was #mine

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nabrizoya · 3 years

Text

RoW Theories and Things I Want to See

with RoW literally a few weeks away, here’s some theories your way.

this is Really long. like, really very long; mind you.

Nikolai might become a disabled character.

It’s just the vibes. If we can take reference from the Too Clever Fox story, there’s a line that says “...and his [Koja’s] fur never quite sat right the same...”, which might hint at it (mostly bc i don’t want him to die). Also if this is indeed possible, it can be used to address ableism if it exists in this universe, especially since Nikolai is someone in the highest position of power.

Zoya will experiment the shit out of powers.

Idk why the synopsis says that using her powers might be a great deal, which tbf will be because she is truly the most most powerful atm; but Zoya wouldn’t mind taking the step outside of the old norms and bend the orders until they serve their purpose. That’s the entire goal rly.

But all along, she will consciously keep herself mindful to not hunger or discharge her power in a way that may cause harm. She knows the tyranny of the Darkling and the ways he employed. She knows better.

More character depth to Zoya.

Given the excerpts, the book does seem to explore Zoya’s infinite grief. And of course her Suli heritage, which a great part of the fandom consistently wants to shadow what with the talk “white features/ part Ravkan” bs.

But there’s more. I hope RoW will show Zoya’s dilemma (that was alr hinted in KoS) she has with the power she holds, the responsibility she has with having that power + using it in the way that will not be detrimental to her and the country. It will be a great way to portray her self-awareness and doubt and insecurity. She is a good leader, that much is told in text but not shown. There’s character development from the end of R&R until KoS that makes her evolve from a what she was then to the capable and mature 22 year old she is in KoS.

Of course all of their capabilities will come to light in RoW but I think Zoya and the agency to her as a character will play an integral part. More so because Zoya is to be the conduit to reversing the current Grisha orders, which runs in parallel with the fact that she needs to go back, go back to the roots of her Grisha knowledge and roots of her i.e. her unending grief and trauma.

She will need to forgive herself while also dealing with the guilt and anger she may have caused due to her position and power. All of this while dealing with her own complex and contrasting emotions due to her own trauma.

Nikolai is held for treason.

The word of allying with The Darkling may be out and that is enough reason for the entire country to turn against him. The secret about the monster causes issues more than enough already, and this will plunge the country into deep political turmoil and threats to security. So RoW will be more politically driven. That said...

There’s no overt war.

By this I mean that there will not be war on the battlefield, both armies or more charging at each others’ enemies and such. Ravka cannot afford one either. The excerpts have already proved that. There will be skirmishes akin to a war scenario, but a complete battle like the last battle in R&R? Like a final battle? That’s not going to be there, I think… What I’m assuming might happen is that the Fjerda and Ravka will take a possible Cold War route, if it isn’t already the case they’re already dealing with atm.

Ravka’s monarchy will collapse.

It may become a democracy or any other form of public or majority vote. But the monarchy (as well a possible dictatorship, esp with the Darkling returned) will be eliminated. ...Or so I hope, since it has been alluded to in KoS.

But that poses many problems. With no one line for the throne, let alone with a crime so dark like a blot on Nikolai’s skill (of taking the Darkling’s help), it is possible that Ravka will shun it, right alongside being torn about it because Nikolai has been, for the best of his ability, a good King. All of this in line with the Resistance rising in West Ravka.

This ties in with the court matters, especially if I want to hold the further points I make true. The resolution to acquit Nikolai of his charges requires a testification forth a jury which will then make a decision about his motives and future.

Zoya as the Interim Head.

After all of this, Zoya’s point about Ravka not accepting a Grisha Queen will be true after all, because there will be no monarchy to welcome such an arrangement.

But Ravka will need a good and trustworthy leader despite Grisha powers and Zoya is the best person to take care of that. The comment “...becoming a steady leader...” and the “Welcome home, Commander,” were there in KoS for a reason (and this is what I think it will link to).

That being said, there’s more nuance to this than my summary. Zoya is a character of colour. That—in addition to the already existing threats, objections and possible question of capability in the position—ill play into how she will be able to discharge her responsibility. It’s not going to be convenient.

EDIT: taken from a reblog/addition to the og post:

A smoother/more structured transition

Once after the monarchy collapses and a leader must be chosen, it will not be Nikolai. Nor will it be Zoya, though she might serve as an interim head. What I assume might be possible is that someone older is chosen, someone older and loyal and with the proof of knowledge and service to the country. Possibly by majority vote or elected by a council.

Instead of the sudden change, this can be a smoother (if that can even be said about such a major political scenario change) or more structured. I also say this because a. if Nikolai is indeed charged (and later acquitted), firstly his political career will already hold a blot if the word about using the Darkling as a resource is out and secondly, he’s way too young to serve as the leader (by modern standards, sure, but like, the required age will be set while drafting the constitution? currently its 35+).

Instead, the current cast can become representatives (which Zoya would already be, (mostly the head of the) international committee that safeguards the Grisha all over the world) and the Triumvirate will be dissolved. (it should be, tbh)

And hey, b. after all of this, they can and kind of need to take a step back. Nikolai and Zoya will be able to truly explore their relationship, given how Nikolai mentions how he wouldn’t marry unless he’d have had the chance to court someone and marry someone he barely knows nor knows him. For Zoya’s part, she does know Nikolai but surely probably not the extent of openness that a healthy relationship has, and on Nikolai’s part, he admits he barely knows her beyond as a General except for just little things about her.

They could be able to realize and work on their feelings while alongside being involved with the workings of the country and the constitution.

“One day you will overstep and I will not be so forgiving.”

Need I say more? Something that Zoya does will cost her Nikolai’s goodwill and we know Zoya knows her practicality and the extent to which she will unapologetically move if there is threat to the country and its King. She will do what was right and required.

A major part of that line ties in with Magnus Opjer and I think with the confidence in the versatility of her powers, Zoya might as well move w/o any word to the Triumvirate to eliminate the most direct threat to the throne. This will bring splits in Nikolai and Zoya’s relationship.

How this tension between them will be resolved without compromising either of their values, without playing into fandom stereotypes and others must be carefully handled. All of this while showing the best of their dynamicity, practicality and priority as they carefully pull out just those weak sticks of the jenga without putting the whole country into trouble. And with a war in plain sight, they’d know better than pointlessly argue and would rather see how the two of them are wrong. This ordeal will bring out just how condensed power is in the current scenario, imo.

Importance on the way women have shaped history.

Something that KoS has already set precedence for. Zoya being a PoC, Nina taking into account of the sufferings of women she comes across and the consistent ‘Who will remember them?’ will be elaborated on further. As for how it is done and how well it is done, that remains to be seen.

Baghra is alive but maybe not thriving bc she’s stuck in the Ice Court.

They entered a chamber where an old woman sat with her hands chained, flanked by guards. Her eyes were vacant. As each prisoner approached, the woman gripped his or her wrist.

A human amplifier. [...] But the Fjerdans used them for a different purpose – to make sure no Grisha breached their walls without being identified.

Kaz watched Nina approach. He could see her trembling as she held out her arm. The woman clamped her fingers around Nina’s wrist. Her eyelids stuttered briefly. Then she dropped Nina’s hand and waved her along.

Had she known and not cared? Or had the paraffin they’d used to encase Nina’s forearms worked?

- Chapter 22. Kaz; Part 4: Trick to Falling, Six of Crows.

Nina will be the one to free her and together they might wage a war from Djerholm together.

This gets even more interesting because we know the anguish and scorn that Baghra feels for her son at the same time; she understands the wrongness that he used to seek and will continue to. Zoya does take Baghra’s name at the Fold when she mourns and rages over how people forget the destruction and most importantly, forget the women. Baghra could be the symbol of the stag as the art piece depicts, or will be shown with relation to the Darkling’s powers.

As for how she will play into the story, perhaps she will be the one to help reverse and find the roots of the orders, in the sense that changes the perception of the Grisha powers for the Grisha as well as the common folk of Ravka. She is the only other person other than Juris and the Darkling to have the age of eras together, knowing Ilya Morozova, and she will be instrumental in giving Ravka an advantage over Fjerda. Either that or she will help in scrubbing the prejudices of Fjerda slowly away with whatever powers she has left. Or both.

Alina will reappear, but will not contribute to the plot significantly.

Zoya understands that the truth she knows about the Darkling is very minimal not enough to end him for once and for all. It makes sense that she will probably consult Alina for it. So, Malina appearance, possibly at the orphanage. Alina will not directly contribute to this war, but she will play a critical role in defeating the Darkling.

Besides, Alina —and Baghra— are the only ones who know that there has only ever been two Darklings. Zoya did sense, multiple times during KoS, that the Darkling is damn old. Yuri mentions it. And while it is not outright specified, the fact that Zoya thinks that she realizes just how ancient Lizabetha is in context of meeting the Darkling is enough proof for her to seek more information about the age and the older skill of the Darkling.

And I think it goes without saying that I want to hope that the Darkling and Alina will not meet. Pls, she’s had enough.

Lada is the lost, other friend that Zoya refuses to bury.

“She saw her mentor die and her worst enemy resurrected, and she refuses to bury another friend.”

Liliyana is dead, we know. But there’s no other mention of Lada except for the “wondering what happened to the pug faced girl.” Lada is possibly a part of the group of women and a Grisha returning to Ravka from Fjerda, exploited by the parem. She might die being unable to withhold the sheer torment of the parem induction, which will devastate Zoya because Lada was also the closest she’s had to a family with Liliyana.

Either that or Lada is already dead or dies some other way, and Zoya cannot bring herself bear the grief of losing her.

Cameos: Inej and Jesper.

The most likely of the crows to appear in RoW are Inej and Jesper and they’ll play equally important roles in the plotline. Here’s a breakdown of why:

Inej

Inej has taken the responsibility of becoming a slave hunter, and it makes sense for Inej to make an appearance in the book, given that there’s going to be a ship taking the Grisha from Fjerda to Ravka.

The women aboard are vulnerable and require immediate attention, which Inej will immediately zero in on. She will have enough reason to suspect both Leoni and Adrik on the ship, especially when the jurda parem is still a secret. Leoni and Adrik cannot give that information away because they don’t trust Inej (and have no reason to either). Inej won’t trust them either, not until she understands that the reason why the women are being taken to Ravka and for what reasons.

Which gives her excellent reason to step in, try to analyze the situation and help the women accordingly.

Here’s an exciting thought though. Once after the entire misunderstanding is overcome and Inej understands (esp. if Nina is brought into the conversation and security and secrecy of the conversation is ensured), there may be discussion about how the Grisha might find a safer space in Ravka.

Inej’s appearance might also extend to playing a pivotal role in giving Zoya the confidence to seek her heritage and where she hails from, to embrace the part of her past and forgive herself and others for her mistakes.

ALSO,

Grisha finding a safer space in Ravka will mean that Inej can pitch Jesper’s case for him to Zoya. Being the highest authority who takes cares of the responsibilities of the Grisha, Zoya will be the best person to talk about this with.

And so, here comes Jesper.

Jesper

For one, I wish Jesper and Leoni interact, talk and just bond like the iconic siblings they would be. <3 But more than that, Jesper plays very integral to the plot for more reasons.

Jesper’s arc will parallel Zoya’s. Both of them are new to their powers in their own individual sense; Zoya is trying to use her new powers in a way that hasn’t been done before, thereby breaking the Grisha orders of powers and Jesper (assuming he has decided that he might want to learn and embrace his Grisha powers) is learning them afresh.

This journey of them trying to embrace, learn and relearn and reject older norms and experiment really work in tandem.

That will lead us to a further (plot) theories.

Ties with Novyi Zem

As of the KoS end, Ravka has no support from anyone atm. Sure the Kerch will provide funds but Ravka has no real allies. Here’s where Novyi Zem and Jesper come in.

We know Novyi Zem is a new country and also that it is the second safest country for the Grisha in the universe. As of KoS, their agreements are not renewed and they would be since between Kerch and Novyi Zem, Ravka was forced to pick Kerch. Yet Ravka needs their help in acquiring jurda for the antidote.

So here’s the deal: Ravka will get their jurda but at many conditions that the Novyi Zem will impose on Ravka to not let exploitation get in the way.

The conditions imposed could be (these are just some at the top of my head but I hope there are more to ensure the safety and security of the Zemeni, in Novyi Zem and in Ravka too) :

Naval support from Ravka

We know of the Zemeni ships and ofc Nikolai has been hard at work trying to develop plans to use the sea to its fullest advantage. While the news of the izmars’ya isn’t public, Zemeni can place a condition for technical aid from Ravka since Ravka does have the technical knowledge it can dispatch as a condition.

A Grisha School in Novyi Zem

Think about it. Ravka, despite being the safest place for the Grisha, still isn’t entirely safe. Not all Grisha become soldiers in Ravka, they have a choice to abstain but those who are training are still recruited a honed for purpose alike preparing for war, especially the teens and preteens from the time of the Civil War. The training does take a lot of time. Ravka intends to make a home first and then service, but at the moment, while the Grisha are provided safety, it’s not assured in the best sense. Both the facts about a home and service are in precarious positions atm.

TL;DR: Ravka isn’t entirely safe for Grisha therefore the Grisha themselves too are not + Ravka is war torn.

So what happens?

One of the conditions as the next best country that serves as home to the Grisha, Novyi Zem may put forth the prospect of building a Little Palace like institution for the Grisha in Novyi Zem. It sounds morally wrong in the sense that the Grisha there will also be trained for war, but the war will end and soon, the Grisha will not be subject to serve for something but engage in economic activities as anybody else with the progression of time.

All of this won’t happen immediately either; learning their powers, honing it in the way that is unocnventional from what it had been pre-RoW and that transition + the building of the establishment in Novyi Zem and laying foundation for the transnational panel or committee for Grisha that Zoya talks about will all take so much time.

A few Grisha representatives from Novyi Zem can learn at the Little Palace and by the time the construction of the institution is done in Novyi Zem, these Grisha, along with other willing Grisha who either want to return to the country they were born in (like Leoni) or are offered to teach in a different country can do so too.

There will be stricter terms so as to not ensure exploitation and possible colonization in these nations.

Zoya mentions in one of her chapters that eventually there will be a need for the a transnational panel or committee for Grisha. Jesper can Zoya can make it possible, adding in other countries to the panel slowly as the war recedes.

Kaz and Wylan?

Least likely to make an appearance, in my opinion. I think they’ll be mentioned plenty of times or brought up once and given great importance for how they can help in the side plot.

Shu Support:

This is more a hope than an actually theory dfbkdhjadfh but Makhi might have to step down from the throne because Ehri will take the place; either as a Queen (no...) or she might oversee the process of strengthening Shu Han and finding a leader (if she doesn’t want to become one herself).

Ehri is capable, more than capable despite the little we know of her from the last chapter in KoS. All I hope is for an understanding and friendship between Nikolai and Ehri (and the subsequent cancelling of the marriage duH) for this to happen. She has little interest in statecraft but with the time she might spend with Nikolai, she might change her views. Even if not then she still gets the happy ending she deserves with Mayu (which is canon at this point rly).

Emotional Development or Breakdowns

Okay but I really, really, really hope we get to see all the three protagonists lose their shit and deal with their trauma, seek help or trying to stop isolating themselves or anything else they do to cope? Nina, Zoya and Nikolai, all of them cry, all of them get to completely lose it, let themselves be human and healthily cope and learn to rely on the people they trust the most. Like the sheer power and potential to show the myriad of ways to deal with grief, sadness, stress and more and make use of the trio’s backgrounds to show healthy and diverse ways of helping themselves, by letting themselves and others help them is just *combusts* Incredible!

That being said, can I also ask for moments of fear and desolation from the side characters too? Impending war isn’t small business, it will take its toll on people, and all these reactions just cement their fears and what they value the most so. pls. Humanizing them rly.

The Saving Each Other

As much as I mostly kinda hate this trope, there are traces in the KoS that Zoya might be the one to end Nikolai’s affliction. On the other hand, there is talk of Nikolai helping Zoya control her powers which seems counterintuitive when you consider that Zoya knows that there is a line that she must never cross and that she is very, very careful about it and will continue to be.

They can instead be the ones who motivate each other in times of distress as they always do (as shown with how Nikolai tries to gain control over his monster during the burning thorn ritual in KoS, allowing himself the vulnerability but also knowing that giving up will be unforgivable to both himself and Zoya as well) but I seriously do not wish for each other to be the ones directly ending one another's misery. Or perhaps this is just a fear imo that Leigh wouldn’t even take the route of (in which case, thank fuck).

Stab Stab Stab

Zoya gets the chance to kill the Darkling with the rest of her friends. After all, Darkling does call them all his old friends. Just Julius Caeser him all the way and put a bow tie on the book. *chef’s kiss* Everybody deserves a second chance... at ending a tyrant when it fails the first time.

So far, this is it. Rule of Wolves is in less than a few weeks and im- asdfghjkl. not Ready. i’m more Worried than Ready.

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