#maybe the rest of us just aren’t trying hard enough to achieve our dreams | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

edenmemes · 3 years

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resident evil village starters

❝ oh, keep growing! one day your head might actually fit your ego. ❞ ❝ running will get you nowhere. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to trust my words, but do you have any better options? ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t be out here. it’s not safe. ❞ ❝ i know you don’t like to talk about it, but can we really just forget everything and pretend it didn’t happen? ❞ ❝ well, what do you think? it’s hopeless, right? ❞ ❝ i wish it could stay like this forever. ❞ ❝ oh, such a disappointment. i thought we could join forces. ❞ ❝ i don’t have time for this bullshit. out of my way. ❞ ❝ i don’t give a damn about your personal issues. ❞ ❝ it’s a pleasure to see you safe. ❞ ❝ just give up. flesh and blood will never win against me. ❞ ❝ quit acting so full of yourself. ❞ ❝ the clock is ticking. playtime’s over! ❞ ❝ ohhh, don’t give up! ❞ ❝ you think you can take me on? ❞ ❝ you should have never refused me. ❞ ❝ these are the fruits of my power. ❞ ❝ leave it alone. you are out of your depth. ❞ ❝ i’ve learned all i can from you. your worth as a lab rat has run out. ❞ ❝ no, no, this can’t be the end for me! ❞ ❝ i can’t escape from here... i can’t do anything! ❞ ❝ what are you talking about? you think this is a game? ❞ ❝ don’t get cocky. i’d kill you if you weren’t the trouble. ❞ ❝ hey, do you know anything about what’s going on around here? ❞ ❝ i’m not used to relying on other people. ❞ ❝ you’re the real deal. well done. ❞ ❝ i gotta...keep going. ❞ ❝ i think it’s time you left things in my hands. ❞ ❝ my power is leaving me! ❞ ❝ do me a favor... try to stay under the radar. ❞ ❝ you don’t get it. you don’t stand a chance by yourself. ❞ ❝ alright, alright. i guess i owe you an explanation. ❞ ❝ you must be pretty tough, huh? ❞ ❝ all your power’s done is drive you nuts. ❞ ❝ i gotta say, i’m surprised you made it this far. it’d be a shame if something happened to you now. ❞ ❝ so you finally came to see me! everyone falls for me in time. ❞ ❝ it’s all i can spare. take it, take it! ❞ ❝ you’ve got fight, i’ll give you that. ❞ ❝ i didn’t want to keep it from you. i didn’t want to lose you again. ❞ ❝ i’d kill you if you weren’t worth the trouble. ❞ ❝ is there something you’re not telling me? come on, talk to me. ❞ ❝ you can hear it, can’t you? someone’s waiting for you. ❞ ❝ oh, careful what you wish for. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to die. oh, it hurts so much. ❞ ❝ don’t look at me that way. ❞ ❝ i told you to sit down. ❞ ❝ you’re the reason ___ doesn’t love me. ❞ ❝ hey, kiss me? ❞ ❝ if it’s for you, i would do anything. ❞ ❝ come on, it’s not that much further! ❞ ❝ you’re the only one to see me in this form. ❞ ❝ ugh, my temper got away from me. ❞ ❝ play with me some more. ❞ ❝ trying to get on my good side? ❞ ❝ i don’t know if it’s the scent of the flowers, but i feel light headed. ❞ ❝ in all my years, i’ve never been this overjoyed. ❞ ❝ look forward to what i have in store for you. ❞ ❝ mmm, that smells good. what’s that? ❞ ❝ you really should have taken my deal. ❞ ❝ truth hurts, don’t it? ❞ ❝ i’ve waited so long. but dreams really can come true. ❞ ❝ you coward! come out and face me. ❞ ❝ quit hiding, asshole. i’m not letting you get out of this. ❞ ❝ i won’t let you have it. even if you beg. ❞ ❝ this is my territory, and i won’t let you leave. ❞ ❝ damn, i’m so cold. my legs won’t work. ❞ ❝ local wine, too. but if you’re going to keep sulking all evening, maybe you shouldn’t have any. ❞ ❝ it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you. ❞ ❝ you’re the last asshole in my way, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ well, at least we’re together. ❞ ❝ hey, now. think positively, all right? we talked about this. ❞ ❝ come now, don’t be shy. show me your terror. ❞ ❝ i would’ve sliced you to ribbons if they hadn’t stopped me. ❞ ❝ it’s only a riddle if you don’t know the answer. ❞ ❝ shouldn’t we face what happened there so we can live our lives without it hanging over our heads? ❞ ❝ rest while you can, because i will hunt you, and i will break you. ❞ ❝ this village is full of monsters. we can’t fight them! there’s too many. ❞ ❝ a dead body? wait...there’s more... ❞ ❝ you’re a lot like your father, you know. ❞ ❝ it barely flinched when i shot it. i feel like it’s toying with me. ❞ ❝ it’ll be fine. it’ll be fine. it’ll be fine. ❞ ❝ listen. you’re being played. ❞ ❝ too bad you’ll pay for it...with your life. ❞ ❝ please won’t you stay with me? forever? ❞ ❝ you are lucky to die before your child. ❞ ❝ quiet now, child! adults are talking. ❞ ❝ there’s nothing wrong with my memory. you’re just being paranoid. ❞ ❝ this is...this is just too much. ❞ ❝ awww, you’re blushing. ❞ ❝ how can a man be ‘almost’ dead? that’s a question for the wise. ❞ ❝ what kind of sick medieval shit is this? ❞ ❝ i’ve spent a lifetime creating this moment...and you try to take it away from me? ❞ ❝ i’m sick of fighting you! ❞ ❝ why didn’t you fucking tell me right away? ❞ ❝ shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! ❞ ❝ but i’m not paranoid, i’m just cautious. ❞ ❝ don’t get close to me when i’m cooking, babe. ❞ ❝ anyone who is anyone has heard of the likes of you. ❞ ❝ i haven’t cut open a man in a while. ❞ ❝ we moved here so that you wouldn’t have to deal with any of that, remember? ❞ ❝ why? why would you do this? ❞ ❝ i knew you would want to be involved. and this job is hard enough without civilians getting in the way. ❞ ❝ oh? you have something to say? ❞ ❝ tell me what’s out there! ❞ ❝ you’re still alive...? impressive. ❞ ❝ hey, are you listening? hey! ❞ ❝ exactly how much do you plan on annoying me? ❞ ❝ oh, no. they’re coming! ❞ ❝ do you have a gun? please tell me you have a gun. ❞ ❝ it’s not---nevermind. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ drunk or not, you are welcome---and safe---in here. ❞ ❝ you know how to push my buttons. ❞ ❝ hey, don’t i get a say in this? ❞ ❝ you wouldn’t know proper manners if it slapped you in the face. ❞ ❝ i won’t forgive you, you bastard! ❞ ❝ why...why do you treat me the same as them? am i not your favourite? am i not special? ❞ ❝ at night, i hear wailing, as if ghosts roam the halls. ❞ ❝ quit your whining; we’re almost there! ❞ ❝ i’m afraid you can’t return to your old world any longer. ❞ ❝ how dare you bare your teeth at me. ❞ ❝ you couldn’t save them. they were already gone. ❞ ❝ in life and death, we give glory. ❞ ❝ can you even understand that humiliation? ❞ ❝ even i can get angry. ❞ ❝ what the hell is that thing? ❞ ❝ we will meet again soon. ❞ ❝ let’s just say parts of the human imagination are better left alone. ❞ ❝ some treasures still lurk in this village. ❞ ❝ my decision is final. there will be no argument. ❞ ❝ everyone leaves me. even you. ❞ ❝ there is no safe! every sorry bastard out there has been ripped in half! ❞ ❝ come inside. the others are waiting. ❞ ❝ come with me. there’s something i have to tell you. ❞ ❝ what the hell is wrong with this place? ❞ ❝ the strong will destroy the weak. that’s the way of the world. ❞ ❝ no, we’re getting out of here --- together. ❞ ❝ but what i saw was...frightful. ❞ ❝ i suppose it’s what they call ‘the beauty of the grotesque’. ❞ ❝ you taught me so much and for that i will be forever in your debt. ❞ ❝ it is my curiosity that ties me to this place. ❞ ❝ please let me know if you’d like to strengthen your weapons. ❞ ❝ you’ll pay if i find out this is a lie. ❞ ❝ speaking of foolish questions, who --- what are you? ❞ ❝ if i don’t kill them then my life will never be my own. ❞ ❝ you are abominable. your deceit knows no bound. ❞ ❝ quit holding out, and get to the damn point! ❞ ❝ you’re the one who’s cursed. ❞ ❝ i hope you will be able to achieve your goal someday, too. ❞ ❝ that is why i had to leave you. i will regret never telling you goodbye. ❞ ❝ if i had but a little more time, i know i might be able to turn the tides of this battle. ❞ ❝ i can hear it shuffling about outside. ❞ ❝ and now you even try to steal my property? how dare you? ❞ ❝ ugh, just another simple little manthing. ❞ ❝ oh, good. i was just thinking of ways to pass the time. ❞ ❝ nowhere to go but up. ❞ ❝ where are you? show yourself! ❞ ❝ not without me, it’s too dangerous. ❞ ❝ shit, that was close. ❞ ❝ i heard explosions. what happened? ❞ ❝ you’ve dirtied my dress! ❞ ❝ you’re my daughter...now act like it! ❞ ❝ i don’t think we will make it through winter at this rate. ❞ ❝ the wounds are severe. i won’t last much longer. ❞ ❝ will you please stop talking in riddles? ❞ ❝ goddamn. it really is you. ❞ ❝ you sure of this? your body is, well, falling apart. ❞ ❝ how long have i been out? ❞ ❝ keep your distance. do not move until i give the order. ❞ ❝ i’ve got a tough guy here, i need some back-up! ❞ ❝ if my mom saw this shit, she’d think she’d died and gone to hell. ❞ ❝ shut your fucking hole! ...sorry about that. ❞ ❝ who are you? who sent you? ❞ ❝ please, be well. ❞ ❝ there’s more than we thought. watch out. ❞ ❝ to hunger...is to be alive. ❞ ❝ goddammit! why is everyone dying on me? ❞ ❝ hey! hey. don’t talk like that. ❞ ❝ my word, you truly are as strong as they say! ❞ ❝ don’t you love me? ❞ ❝ oh, you didn’t think i’d let you get away, did you? ❞ ❝ taken alive? dead? which would you prefer? ❞

#roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #re8 spoilers #resident evil spoilers #i'll most likely add more !! i havent seen everythng from this game yet

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years

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🌼 any of them

Whoops, wrote a fic

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

An optimist would look at the world of divination with wonder. The universe is a but a magnificent hall of tapestries, beautiful pieces of art woven into anything you could imagine. Tapestries where you are a hero, tapestries where you are royalty, tapestries where your people live with riches, tapestries depicting your eternal victory over your enemies. The universe is endless and bountiful, for in the future, all futures are possible.

This is how Astor usually can depict the good fortune tellers from the worse.

If they’re an optimist, they’re most likely a faker.

The only true divinator that he had met that was even a bit of an optimist was his mother, and even then, he had always had the sinking feeling that she hid a deeper sorrow behind her simple shoes of colorful flames and shining moon and starlight. No, it was quite hard to stick to true, unfiltered optimism in this field, as while it was true that all futures and choices were possible, that freewill ran its course through all who walked the vast possibilities of the universe, the issue came in the fact that you could not travel it to and fro.

There are futures where you live, there are futures where you achieve your wildest dreams, timelines where your childhood is happier, and timelines where you find true love and satisfaction.

But you aren’t in those timelines. The future you have is this one, and it is set in stone.

Walk all the roads you want, say all the words, read all the stories, but when a seer analyzed exactly what world we live in, exactly what end is destined for this string of the universe, there will be no holding back. There is only the unfiltered, raw, typically pessimistic truth of the end. Savor it.

“In truth, Elane, I hate my job. Fear it, even,” Astor set his teacup down, looking out the balcony towards the inky, midnight view. “I fear one day I will find the prediction—the true, ultimate glimpse into the night, that seals in the fact that we’re doomed.”

The Queen only cocked her head with a smile. “Well, I’m flattered that there’s still a ‘we’ in this scenario. Good to know I’ll be joining you in the lockup when my mother find our contraband cucco nuggets—“

“I’m serious, Elane.”

She only laughed quietly, before leaning back in her chair, and gazing out into the pleasant evening. “I know...”

There was a quiet between them, not quite awkward or stiffening, but quiet in the way that you might hold your breath after someone embraces you warmly. Quiet in acceptance, quiet to make room for the sounds of something rare and fickle.

“I swear, I might retire early,” Astor finally said. “Quit while I’m ahead. Head off to Hateno or Mabe and bury my head in the sand.”

“You might want to try Gerudo then, if sand is what you’re searching for. I’m sure Urbosa would be thrilled.”

“Tsk. I am inclined to disagree.”

Elane chuckled again, and she let the quiet embrace her for a moment.

“Eternal doom aside, for a moment, I would posit that there’s hardly anything to fear. You’ve foreseen my daughter’s growth, analyzed the future livelihood of the kingdom, and predicted our victory over Ganon. I’d say it’s hard to bargain with that.”

“Maybe, but I could be wrong.” Astor circled his finger on the lip of his cup. “It happens, people make a prediction, but miss one star, or slip up one word...or perhaps one cow suddenly dies, or one ember quickly fades, and suddenly we’re actually in an entirely different timeline than predicted.”

“Didymos Astor? Wrong about something? Oh my, I never thought I’d see the day...” Elane smiled to herself again as she lifted her cup for another sip.

Astor clicked his tongue. “Well. You should hope I’m not wrong about anything. If someone of my skill makes an incorrect prediction, it would probably be disastrous for everyone.”

Elane winked as she set down her cup. “Well, good thing you’re a prodigy, then.”

“Good thing, indeed.”

Quiet keep their third company once again. Astor still had not sipped from his cup, but Elane was already heading for her fourth refill, no doubt begging for any energy after tucking her daughter to bed. A young toddler with enough energy to power a Guardian army, Elane has always found it quite odd that she used up a lot of her energy to annoy the Royal Seer. It was charming to see him get put off by a Mallory’s boundless curious aura, but mostly relieving in the sense that the Queen could get a moments rest and trust little Zelda would be alright.

Elane looked back inside through the half open door, and smiled at a bundled sleeping figure, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. She then turned back and finally noticed Astor’s continued silence on the next refill.

She sighed. “Although I would be saddened to see you leave,” she began, “If a retirement would make you happy, Astor, I would loathe to do anything to stand in your way.”

He looked up at her, analyzing her body language and expression. She was genuine, of course, as she always was in these sorts of talks. Astor finally let himself exhale in peace, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Unfortunately I don’t think it would do me much good, anyways. Location won’t let me escape my own thoughts and visions.” He took a sip of his tea—a bit citrusy this evening, a hint of apple—and relaxed. “I’d imagine His Majesty would miss me dearly, and I simply wouldn’t want to leave him in distress.”

“Ha! Oh yes of course, Rhoam would be crying tears if you left us...” she replied, sarcastically. “Tears of deep, deep sorrow.”

Astor looked out into the night in silence again, not touching his cup.

“But I’ll tell you what Astor,” Elane began again. “If you ever receive that world dooming prediction, whatever may happen that may instigate your view of the deepest hells,” she raised her cup. “You come find me, and we’ll have a drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A drink? What sort of drink?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you like. Tea, wine, beer, water or juice if it’s your fancy. Whatever will keep your spirits high.”

Astor smirked, solemnly. “I don’t think you understand just how severe and dreadful certain predictions can be. When we say ‘all futures are possible,’ we do mean all possibilities.”

“And I understand, dear seer. I truly do.” She tilted her head as she kept her cup in the air. “But the way I see it, is that with divination or not, doom and hell come into people’s lives one way or the other. But it hasn’t really stopped the majority from loving their lives now, has it?” Her eyes twinkled like starlight. “Dearest Astor, if our destined doom is predicted one day, I command you to at least smile through our tea party.”

Quiet.

He finally sighed, the corners of his lips perking. His protests drowning in her expression.

“I suppose if you’re the one pouring, it’d be difficult to refuse.” He raised his cup and clinked it with hers.

She was dead eight days later.

With her death came the final factor. The final star.

“Your daughter is destined to fail us,” he said again. “The Calamity shall rise and consume us all, and she won’t stop it in time.”

Rhoam slammed his fists on the desk, but the seer did not flinch. “We’ll train her hard, we’ll start now, even! I’ll get those clerics from the temple to teach her the starting prayers!” he yelled.

“It won’t work.” Astor replied, simply. “Perhaps she might attain them down the line, but she most certainly won’t awaken her powers by Ganon’s rise. It’s over.”

“You told me we could do this!” Rhoam pointed a finger, accusingly. “You saw our prosperity, our victory!”

“That was what I initially saw, yes. But unfortunately we live in world where the Queen of Hyrule is dead, and thus the threads of our future weave accordingly.”

“You’re a liar!” Rhoam bellowed again. “You saw her death, saw our end and lied to us since the beginning, haven’t you?!!”

“Don’t you think that if I knew Elane would die, I would say something?! That I would give ample time for her to say goodbye to you and her daughter??” Astor finally raised his voice, met with equal silence. “I failed to correctly analyze our timeline the first time around, and for that I am sorry. But I can not control what pieces of the future fate allows me to see. It’s not an open novel for you to give me a bad book report grade on. It’s a museum of endless tapestries, of which I am task with analyzing one stroke at a time to identify which is woven to a singular man, and the fact that I have given you a complete enough answer now is a gift within itself, so don’t even try to accuse me forgery and lies.”

The two men clenched their jaws, staring angrily at each other.

Astor finally whispered. “Overtime I might gather more specifics, but overall—this is over.”

Rhoam balles his hand into a fist. “We’ll start a new schedule for Zelda first thing in the morning—“

“It won’t work, it’s futile—“

“We’ll make it work—“

“This is set in stone, this is the world you live in—“

“Well what if you’re wrong again?”

“I’m not.”

“But what if you are?”

“I’m. Not. I’ve read the signs again and again and again, in fact I’ve been reaching the same conclusions repeatedly for the last four weeks. It. Is set. In stone.” He tapped his finger on the wood with each syllable to emphasize. “Perhaps the futures of prosperity are accurate for the Rhoams and Mallorys that live in a different time, but unfortunately for us, we live in one where Elane is dead. This is our reality and you’re doing no good denying as such.”

Silence.

Rhoam made his way towards the door. “You’re a liar.” The seer scoffed. “You’re a liar and you don’t know what you’re saying! Borderline treason if I’m being honest! You’re pathetic, and a rotten fake—“

“If it pleases His Majesty to confirm the integrity of his humble subject,” Astor cut in, sarcastically, “It might be good to know that also I’ve predicted you won’t imprison me, or exile me, or execute me, given you’re still ever reliant on my uncontested skills for more personal matters. That, and you wish to try and keep me around to hopefully prove me wrong, in which you can then tell yourself you’d be in the right to truly punish me.” He stared the regent dead in the eyes. “But don’t worry, you won’t.”

Rhoam slammed the door shut as he stomped off.

That night, Astor has another dream. Or perhaps it was a vision, he wasn’t sure, as the details were so surreal and horrific and captivating that it would have surely been a blessing to chalk it up entirely to vivid imagination.

There were screams and the sound of rocks crumbling. Bones were cracking and monsters were squealing and shrieking. And be felt his arms burn, and he felt his soul drain, and he looked down to see his skin peeling into dark flakes, his muscles, sludge. And in the distance, a young woman with golden hair laughed at him, but her eyes were hollow and gold. And she laughed and laughed as his body was slowly broken to pieces, bones torn asunder, skin burned to smoldering malice, senses vivid until the final moment when he woke.

But the good thing about nightmares, was that...that was it. There was no where else to go. There was nothing left to offer. No more pain to fear.

It made sense of course. Of course, of course. He never went to the funeral, he never offered his sympathies. There was no longer anything to mourn, as he allowed himself to view the world in its true, disgusting form. The people were doomed, and the dead, well...perhaps they might have deserved it. Yes, that was the only way this all made sense, of course. He even stopped trying to warn other folk after a few too many dozen harsh rejections to his character. No, now in complete isolation and resignation of his path, there was nothing else that could possibly drag him back to—

“How do I die?” Zelda Mallory Hyrule asked, one day.

At first, he was confused, and he turned in his chair. “What?”

She was seven at the time, and it was truly an odd and concerning thing to be coming from a seven year old girl’s mouth. Or perhaps it wasn’t, given the circumstances.

“How do I die?” she said again. She was laying down on his worn carpet, fiddling with the frilled edge.

Was she truly that bored? Already out of other questions? Hmph, he had always warned her to stay away, as a seer’s office wasn’t really meant for childish entertainment. Yet still she always came and asked to hide away from her father, and, well...anything to spite that man...

“Why do you ask?” he finally replied. Had someone said something to her? A threat? He clenched his jaw. I swear, if that fool tried to force her powers by—

“You’re always going on about how I’m wasting my time with praying and stuff...but father says I still gotta to stop the Calamity or else we could all die.” She didn’t look up from the bits of carpet string she was playing with (and contemplating on popping in her mouth), “So I figured if you tell me how I die we can settle the debate for good!”

Astor just sighed. “Well, of course you d—“

He stopped himself, but not for the reasons a more put together person, might. Not because of the generally frowned upon action of telling a child how she dies, no, that was not exactly beyond him. No, Astor cut off his sentence simply because it had crossed his mind that—

“...I’m not entirely sure...” he whispered.

He suddenly stood. Walking towards the other end of his office, carefully stepping over the child. “E-Excuse me a moment.”

Why had he never considered this? Of course, he had seen the signs clearly enough, the visions, the stars. A girl cries over a corpse, a light vanishes in the night. Malice plagued the sky and dooms the day. But did the Calamity actually kill her? Does she drown in rubble and malice like the others? Slain by a demon or monster perhaps? Or if not, then, would that mean...?

The princess soon forgot about the question by the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Astor spent nearly eight sleepless nights into finding an answer.

But he never truly did.

These things happened more times than one may think, when it came to predictions. Vagueness was commonplace, but specificities and straightforward answers were about as rare as a green sunset. Of course, he knew she would die, goddess blood or not, she lived the life of a mortal. But how? When? While it certainly wasn’t impossible to predict a person’s death, but whatever the circumstances of Mallory’s was made the process was infuriatingly impossible.

It was possible she would die of malice or suffocation under rubble, even circumstances where she dies at the Ganon’s hand himself. But then there were clear visions of her living, walking through a grassy field, ruins in the distance covered in leaves and moss, her turning and calling to a friend to keep up with her pace.

But no, nonono. She would die during the Calamity’s rise, that was the majority of what the futures offered to her were. That was the probable outcome.

But the factors and visions and signs and alignments were so fine and minuscule in difference, that Astor truly couldn’t a true statement, a true prediction, a true answer to the question. What timeline did we live in?

It taunted him.

Maybe it was better if the question was put to rest, did it even matter?

“Mallory?” he asked. “That’s a stupid name.”

“What?! No it’s not!” Elane laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Please, YOU’RE not one to talk.”

“Well as a victim of stupid first names, I think I’m qualified to speak accurately on the subject.”

“Aha! But it’s not technically a first name.” Elane tapped his head. “It’s a middle name, her first name would be ‘Zelda,’ of course.”

“Yes, and that is also a s—“

The queen shoved his shoulder into the wall before he even finished the sentence. “Oh would you shut up...”

He laughed, unconventionally carefree. Her Majesty’s happiness these days truly was contagious. Or perhaps that was a side effect of pregnancy? Did all expecting mother’s give off this aura?

“I think it’s a wonderful name.” Elane said. “Reminds me of a cute little duck, like a mallard!” She tucked her arms and flapped her elbows to imitate as such. “Quack, quack!”

“This is further adding to my argument actually”

“Hmph! Ok then Mr. Overseer of all names” She tapped a finger to his chest. “If it’s such a stupid name, then when she starts getting bullied for it around the castle, I shall expect you to take care of her in full.”

He scoffed. “Oh, I’ll be sure to do so. She’ll definitely need it.”

Elane pecked his head with a kiss.

“Good! I grant you my blessing lovingly tease her, as well. And I expect the best from you, Astor!”

His face suddenly warmed for some reason, and he couldn’t form words.

“What?”

“.....W...”

He was suddenly whack in the head with a rolled up piece of paper. Astor sprang awake from his desk. “...W...What...?”

“Morning, Mr. Astor!!” Princess Zelda-Mallory beamed. “And happy birthday!!! Sorry I woke you up early, but I needed to give this to you before the winter solstice festival later and—“

She continued to ramble on and on, but Astor simply opened the rolled up paper she had handed to him. It was simply filled with dozens and dozens, arguably hundreds, of hand drawn stars. In the corner was written, “You always look at the same stars so here’s some new ones!” in crude purple crayon. At the time, he failed to notice the accompanying note on the back that read “One for each year of how old you are!” Thankfully he was too busy looking through the different stars, with varying degrees of sparkles and smiley faces.

He finally looked back at the princess, who was still rambling on and on about her day, and her father’s day, and her newest stuffy dress, and her latest adventures with her stuffed toys, and—

“Why are you always here, Zelda?” Astor finally said. She stopped talking, looking at him, quizzically. “I mean...” he grumbled, “You know I don’t really like you, right?

“Eh, I don’t care. I think you’re neat!!” She held out her arms as she zoomed around his circular office. “Your room is so cool! And you got fun books!”

“Necromancy isn’t necessarily what I would consider ‘fun’ reading material—“

“Plus your outfits are cool, and you’re super smart, like my mom.”

He blinked.

“Plus, you’re the only one that’s not mean to me about my dumb powers. But really that’s just a chair on the top!”

“Do you mean cherry on top?”

“No! I meant chair! Watch me!! I’m gonna do a backflip off of this—“

“NO.” Astor immediately stood up, and snatched the girl off of the wooden chair. “NO. No backflips.” He set her down on the rug and pointed to a side of the room which held a broken table, stool, and a few old chairs—the victims of the princess’ previous acrobatic attempts.

She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. “You’re no fun!”

“I’m running out of furniture, is what I am.”

“But I’ll let this slide since it’s your birthday! Hmph.”

She started pulling at the loose threads of the carpet. “Don’t know why you had to stop my birthday backflip! Who cares if I get a little scratch?”

“I do—“

“YOU DO?!” Mallory was immediately up and clinging to his robes.

Astor sputtered, instinctively waving his arms to free himself from the child’s grip. But then he finally processed her question, and...

“I...” He looked at her starlight eyes. She had that stupid, naive grin that he always remembered from her mother. A stupid, pathetic, horrible, terrible, optimistic smile.

He finally scoffed. “I just can’t have you getting hurt on my watch, as otherwise, I’d probably be a dead man. That’s all.”

The princess lifted her hands in a “hooray!” fashion, and yelled the exclamation, accordingly. She then resumed her zipping and zooming around the room, much to Astor’s unexpected relief.

That night, he visited the question again.

Why? He didn’t really know.

The question wouldn’t offer him anything, it wouldn’t relieve him of anything—in fact it really did just the opposite. If he found that died miserably, it would be another scream in the nightmare, another nail in the comforting coffin of despair. But if he someone found that she lived, that there was a day after the Calamity, where even a child such as her could possibly prosper...

Having hope and seeing it fail anyway would probably be the most torturous of all.

Again, he had a dream, of a world tainted by blood and malice. But this time he was floating. He was floating and watching the end of it all.

Castle Town was nothing but ruins and ash, and no colors existed but red, black, and grey.

He couldn’t hear anything but a shrill hum in his ears, but he knew there was screaming. He looked to his hand, expecting to see malice or blackened skin, but instead found a strange floating device in his palm. It spin slowly, pink constellations drifting across its surface.

The hum in his ears turned into a groan, and then a whisper. It said something familiar, but he was sure he had never heard it before.

It is time.

The next night he had a dream of a girl standing in a green field, calling out to her friends somewhere behind her. She rested under the ruins of a collapsed pillar, and ate a homemade sandwich with a memorable smile.

Astor reached a conclusion.

In most futures, the girl dies horribly. He wrote in his journal. To be expected, I would assume the rise of the Calamity isn’t exactly easy to survive from.

But what I have discovered is a very specific set of circumstances that lead to a more favorable outcome, at least for her.

I have no way of knowing if it accurately depicts the comings of our time, or another. There are too many variables and specifics. Too long I have spent trying to discern our fate, but the probabilities and possibilities for doom are so interchangeable that it really go either way. The only truth I know is that she lives if—

He paused, tapping the dry quill to the desk again in thought. He dipped it once more.

I’ve decided that if I ever find myself in the scenario where I can solidify her a more favorable destiny, I will take it. I can only hope dare to alter my existing nightmare into something different, there’s really nothing left to lose, is there?

Astor leaned in his chair for a moment, savoring the silence of his office. He looked out the window and took in the night. The stars were gorgeous this evening.

Although if it fails I hope it kills me.

Call it arrogance, but I don’t think I can handle being wrong again.

The seer sighed, then suddenly flipped to the next blank page, angrily.

If I had never met her it would have been fine. If I had just minded my own damn business and continued to work in being resigned to our fate, at least then I could have—

There was a soft knock at his door.

He knew who it was.

Astor pinched the bridge of his nose as he opened it. “It’s past 2am, Princess, what could you possibly have to tell me?”

She looked down and shuffled her feet. “I had a nightmare...”

“Yes, people do have those sometimes.” He immediately closed the door.

Another knock.

After a moment, Astor opened it again. ��Don’t you have guards outside your room, how did you sneak up here?”

“Secret tunnel!” She grinned, proudly, as she replied with a sort of sing-song tone.

“That’s nice.”

The door slammed shut again.

She knocked once more. There was the longest pause.

“FFFFFFine!” The world was out of his lips before he even fully swung open the door, and Mallory happily scrambled inside. “But no touching anything, I’m working.”

“It’s ok, I just wanna stay up all night and read your books!” She was already scrambling for the necromancy section, again.

Astor sighed, and went to slump back into his desk. The princess was already sprawled across the floor, distracting herself with another stack of wondrous, ill-recommended book. He didn’t really care.

I don’t really care. He wrote once again. I know there are futures where I dedicate myself to the Calamity, and she dies anyway. I know it doesn’t really matter, I know it’s hopeless to care, and that’s why I don’t.

He looked back at Zelda, he saw her slowly blink back her tiredness. He knew in a few hours or so, he’d have to drop her sleepy figure back off to those useless guards, and berate then for letting her wander off again, as it always was.

If I do this and it’s all for nothing, he began, I fear it will be worse than if I had just stood to the side and perished. It’s already doomed, and this pathetic, foolish optimism might cause me to turn this nightmare into something even worse.

He sighed, and the hours passed as he just sat with his thoughts.

Zelda was using and open book as a pillow.

Astor opened the door, and went to pick her up.

I’m not living through another nightmare. He thought, as he descended the stairs from the observatory. The girl’s breathing was steady as she wrapped an arm by his shoulder.

If it fails I hope it kills me before I see it. He repeated again.

I can’t handle being wrong again.

#Didymos Astor #out of character #oc ask game #I’m actually really proud of this I might shove it into canon story one day

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meichenxi · 4 years

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*rant commencing*

ok guys let’s sit down and have a think about the way we talk to kids, particularly neurodivergent ones, and the weight it carries

the other day, I opened up to a friend about something really hurtful my best (and only) friend said to me when I was fifteen. It was a moment of emotional intimacy and the first time I had brought it up seven years later and, once again, I got laughed at and told I was too fucking sensitive

and ok maybe yeah I was a ridiculous child. I’m a ridiculous adult, that shouldn’t be surprising. But this hurt and hurt and hurt and I was trying to think about why this in particular and not anything else was so painful

so here’s the situation. at fifteen, like many smart kids, everyone thought the world was open to me. Ok I had no social skills to speak of and was ostracised by teachers and students and family, but I was an optimistic kid, and in a disaster of a home situation (involving kidnappings and court cases and running away and being out of school for a year and a brother starting drugs at 12 and living in a shelter and basically just a LOT) I was always the smiley helpful one. and apart from being defeated by very simple mechanisms like idk drawers or biscuit packets, I picked things up quickly. I took GCSEs early and extra and tutored others; I was a regional competitive swimmer in breaststroke and open water; I taught myself the flute and got into an international touring youth orchestra without lessons; I won a poetry competition for adults in primary school; I played competitive netball and was a long distance runner; I drew and sold my art; I wrote shitty novels and started making conlangs and was interviewed on bbc world about it; I loved performing and was invited to join a theatre company when I left school; and my biggest passion in the entire world apart from Tolkien was martial arts. And the best thing was for my parents - one of whom was disabled and didn’t work and the other who was a cleaner - is that I worked two paper rounds and tutored younger children and earned all of the money for it myself. blah blah blah. I was your mum’s friend’s kid.

well, I’m a disaster adult, so you can probably guess that none of that lasted for very long. and there are gazillions of people here with exactly the same story.

the point in question, though, was when I was fifteen and thinking about sixth form (the last two years of school in the UK) it was becoming clear alarmingly fast that you weren’t allowed to just keep doing everything you loved. at some point you had to make a choice.

but how could I give up swimming for music? Or music for languages? Or languages for athletics? Or athletics for theatre? or, actually, all of them but one???? how did people just know what they had to do with their lives? how did they choose?

the problem was, I said to my friend, I know I could do well at any of them, so how was I supposed to choose? (tactless and a stupid thing to say and also just not true but I was fifteen and simultaneously disgustingly cocky and cripplingly insecure) And he laughed and said, well, fuck you then.

oh noooo. poor meeeeeee. I’m so fucking good at things what do I dooooo

I haven’t stopped thinking about that comment for seven years. Every single time I think about wasting my potential, every time I can’t sleep because I’m terrified that I’m not being productive or useful and hating myself because I’m upset that I can’t do something right away and I know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about - I think about that comment. I’m lucky. It’s alright for some.

because, actually, being expected to know what to do with your life aged 15 is a fucking terrifying thing. we were kids at fifteen being told to make decisions as if we had all the facts, as if we weren’t also being blindfolded and spun around in circles until we couldn’t stand. Do you do what your parents say? what you think you want to do? what your teachers say? do you just stay in education even though it’s not for you because your dream is stupid, or because you don’t have a dream like everyone else seems to? are you supposed to have a dream?

*it’s NOT a stupid thing to worry about*

particularly when? well, when your entire self worth equates to the things that you output, the things that you do. so just for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of all of these wonderful, dazzling, damaged, crazy kids with big dreams and big hearts, kids that are struggling right now and kids that are our future, and imagine that you’ve been told since you were old enough to read or speak or walk that you’re just so very clever

isn’t it just wonderful how clever you are? isn’t it just great how we never need to worry about you? you’re such an easy child, it’s a blessing. always so considerate, so thoughtful, never making a fuss! isn’t it just fantastic how well you do in school? I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a child who went to all of those nasty parties. you’re so dedicated

raise your hand if you were only ever told you were good. raise your hand if you were never told you were kind.

so, what happens? you take a child, and you tell them for its entire childhood that they’re clever. You don’t tell them that they’re creative, or hard-working, or dedicated, or driven, or helpful. You let them know that it’s ok that they’re weird, because they’re going to be successful. what do you think parents say to their kid who’s crying because she has no friends and she doesn’t understand what the other children are thinking and why they would hurt each other like that? even good parents, the very best of them, say things like: you’re just more mature than they are. it doesn’t matter. keep your head down - you’ll show them.

your child, in the best case scenario, has access to her hyperfixation that makes the world big and bright and beautiful. she’s a bit weird, but it’s kind of cute. anyway, she’s good at it. and as long as she succeeds, conventionally, and you get to brag, then it’s ok that she’s a little bit unconventional.

and then things to break, just a little. and then, aged eleven, your child is having an asthma attack in the classroom because she got so anxious she couldn’t answer a maths question she couldn’t breathe. it’s ok, her parents tell her the next day. you’re just not good at maths - that’s alright. you don’t have to be good at everything

your child, because she’s perceptive, begins to realise that things don’t get better as you get older. people are just as cruel at 12 as they are at 7, and they’ll be just as cruel at 15. and then one day, as a bad joke because she doesn’t really understand humour, she writes a fake text to her dad from someone’s phone in legalese that actually has a secret code hidden it in that she knows her dad will crack right away because he’s brilliant. she thinks it’s hilarious. her father thinks he is being threatened, and spends the next week in meltdown, bedridden and burnt-out. and when she owns up, he turns and snaps at her, and says as if you could write something like that. an ADULT wrote this, not a fucking child

and suddenly, that cleverness they kept talking about? they don’t even understand that.

suddenly, no one sees her at all.

she needs to learn to be like the other kids. to be like a fucking child. and while she’s learning, she doesn’t speak for a year

that happened to me, but take your pick - I’m sure you don’t have to look far to find examples of your own.

My point is this: if you tell a child for their entire life that the only thing that is worthy of being loved is what they achieve, if every time they do something they love you tell them oh, you could be a famous writer! you’re so talented! rather than saying that you loved listening to their story, if you only praise them when they’re good and quiet and convenient and tell them that as long as they succeed, it doesn’t matter if they don’t have friends or if they’re miserable, and THEN you tell them to choose ONE THING and drop 90% of everything that makes them who they are -

what the hell did you THINK was going to happen??

because here’s the first thing. for many kids, whether that’s because of neurodivergence or age maturity or whatever, hyper fixations and hobbies aren’t just things they like to do. THEY ARE LIFELINES. they’re the things these kids go to when they’re hurt, angry, upset, because they make sense. for many kids, especially but not always girls, they are able to camouflage themselves and mask tendencies of neurodivergence because they’re ‘good students’. at a family gathering once, my mum, so frustrated at my inability and lack of desire to talk to any members of my extended family, snatched my German grammar book and locked it in the boot of the car. knowing that I escape and read it in the toilet was the only thing keeping me going, exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed. I vomited on the grass.

and here’s the second thing. you tell us from an early age that they only way we’ll ever be acceptable to the rest of society is if we succeed. autistic kids are fine, as long as they’re international maths olympiad champions. adhd kids are fine, as long as they’re famous athletes. if you’re obsessed with musicals that’s ok, as long as that obsession leads to a well-paying job as a successful writer on Broadway.

and then you tell us that we only have one chance at that success? and this decision determines the rest of our lives? and that we had so much potential when we were kids, and we better not waste it now? that not everyone is so lucky to be able to choose between so many things??

because being asked to choose between these things isn’t being asked to choose a hobby. when the only way anyone else defines you positively is by your success in one area, that becomes your entire identity.

so no, we’re not being too sensitive when you ask us to pick and choose what career, or what hobby to take forward. you’re not asking about hobbies. you’re asking us to choose what kind of person we want to be. you’re asking us to choose the most impactful way we can give back to the world, because we can’t waste those god-given talents. you’re asking us to figure out, still a child and hopelessly lost, what our purpose on this planet is. and you’re looking at us as if the ways that we survived all of these years, the things we clung to for comfort, are things we can just cast aside without further thought

ask me now, and I’ll tell you that’s not the way things work. we have second chances and third ones and tenth ones, we can be different things to different people and we can do different things at different parts in our lives, and be successful in different areas. life isn’t a fucking flowchart. and I’m still trying to come to terms with all the things I could have been, and my freak-outs about ‘wasted potential’ are so clockwork I could plan my calendar around them, but I’m beginning to understand that life doesn’t end when you’re twenty, or when you haven’t written a best-seller by eighteen. you have time.

but at fifteen? at fifteen, that question broke me.

do you know what you can do instead? you can show a little thoughtfulness. you can be kinder, and lead by example, and praise your kids when they’re kind too. when your son runs to you and shows you what you think is a better picture than you - a stick figure artisan, if you say so yourself - could ever create, you can actually just say you really like it. you can ask him if that’s him and daddy and the dog on a cloud. describe the picture back to him, and engage with this thing he’s made from his imagination - tell him the clouds he’s drawn are so big and fluffy and white, and ask if there are giant spiders living there. you know how to shut a child up? tell them yes dear, it’s wonderful. don’t be that person. promote your kid’s creativity - ask questions, have fun, play with this thing they’ve made - and not destroy it

when your daughter comes to you and shows you a song she’s written, don’t tell her she’s so talented or that she could be a musician one day. just sing along. ask her why she wrote it, and what she was thinking of when she did. ask her if she could make it different for two people singing it at the same time.

and if your child just really, really loves maths? let them do maths. it’s ok if their interests are stereotypical - as long as they love it and it’s fun, supporting them is wonderful. the best present my father ever got me was five hours of tutoring - an introduction to linguistics!! - when I turned twelve, starting on my birthday at 8am. I had never felt so understood and so loved.

as much as these simple things can destroy someone’s life, can stop them talking for a year, you have the chance to be that one voice of kindness that is a friend where a young person needs it most.

for me, this was the Bus Lady. I never knew her first name because I forgot immediately and was too embarrassed to ask again, but we got the bus together for two years right before I applied to university - she was a trainee teacher at my school. she saw that I missed tutor group and sat in the corridor every morning writing, and that I ran laps for an hour every lunchtime instead of sitting alone. but she came and sat with me one morning and asked what I was doing; I was developing a new shorthand and told her so warily.

she didn’t raise her eyebrows or say wow, that’s...that’s amazing. instead she frowned and looked at me skeptically and said ‘But why would you do that? There are plenty of functional shorthands out there - what does your shorthand have that they don’t? Tell me about it.’

I had no idea what to say

this was the first time anyone had actually ENGAGED in any capacity with what I was doing. and just like that, just by treating me seriously and asking valid questions and pointing out inconsistencies, I was a person who happened to have an idea that was in some serious need of questioning, and not a freak

there’s no way she remembers that interaction; she’s been a teacher now for year and probably doesn’t even remember who I am. But I had been this close to not going to university, to not bothering, and she made me stop, and wait a moment

she will never know the difference that that conversation and two months of kindness on the bus from a stranger made in my life.

so let’s be kind to each other, please. let’s be forgiving. let’s challenge each other and let’s engage with kids with special interests and listen to them talk. and so to any educators or teachers or parents or even other kids, I want to say - let’s treat our words seriously and with respect, like we treat our children, because they have immense capacity to hurt, because they can be used for good.

to any other fifteen year olds in a similar position, I just want to say: none of us here on tumblr have properly sorted our lives out, but I promise you it does get so much better.

you’re not too sensitive. you’re not a freak. you’re not only acceptable because you succeed. I know if you’re masking you feel you have to and it’s for survival, and I’m sorry, because you shouldn’t have to. and you should never, never have to think that you ‘have it good’ or that you’re lucky and are not allowed to hurt. there’s always some one who has it worse, and you can’t stop beat yourself up about that. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. if you have gone through trauma, if you have unhealthy coping mechanisms, if you are depressed or anxious or otherwise mentally ill and some of it stems from this, I am so very very sorry. but you will be ok, even if you can’t write for a couple of years, or even if things change. you’ll get there. speaking as someone who is now writing for the first time in six years, drawing for the first time in longer, it’s scary and new and weird, but you will come out the other side.

and you do work hard. and you are creative. and you are loved. and you are so very, very kind.

*rant over*

#neurodivergence #neurodivergent #adhd #autism #giftedness #gifted kids #tag for this fucking awful school system?#neurodivergent kids #parenting #education #long post #meichenxi rants #mental health #trauma #depression #anxiety #mental illness #sorry for the scary tags I don't mean the post to be scary I'm just annoyed #and it got longer than I thought it would

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duhragonball · 3 years

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Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch. 105-108

“Master Kars has taken a fighting stance! I... I wasn’t expecting tongue...”

Hey, remember Wammu? Well, he’s dead now, so the only Pillar Man left to worry about is the leader, Kars. His army of vampire slaves don’t like this, so they try to bumrush our heroes, but Lisa kills a few of them, then threatens to destroy the Red Stone of Aja unless Kars honors their agreement.

And Kars is cool with that. He only took off his headdress and exposed his antennae to prepare for the next one-on-one fight. He then kills his unruly henchmen to prove that they don’t speak for him. Moreover, Kars is now willing to fight Lisa Lisa. Earlier, he said that he didn’t like fighting women, but now that he’s seen her in action, he’s on board with the idea.

But he doesn’t want to fight in Skeleton Heel Stone, where Joseph and Wammu squared off. Instead, he chooses the Piza Berlina Temple, right next door to the S.H.S. Apparently, after a hard day of chariot racing, the winners used to come here to worship their gods and drink the blood of the losers.

It’s weird to me that Kars and Wammu should be so familiar with this place, and carry such an abiding respect for it. I mean, they’ve viewed ordinary 20th Century humans with utter contempt, dismissing them as backwards primitives. Santana disassembled a German rifle like it was easy, and he’s supposed to be the big dummy in the Pillar Men. That’s how little they think of 1938 technology and civilization. The Hamon users in this story only get a bit of respect because they‘ve become worthy adversaries.

And yet, the Pillar Men seem to be a lot more respectful towards ancient humanity. Esidisi knew the writings of Sun Tzu, if not the man himself. You’d think he’d just ignore or devour Sun Tzu sooner than look at him. And you’d think Wammu would have wanted to fight in the traditions of his own culture, but instead he’s all into this ancient human racetrack. It can’t be because it’s old. Compared to Wammu, it’s positively brand new.

On the other hand, these guys are the last of their kind, as we’ll learn in a few chapters. Human culture is the only kind the Pillar Men have gotten to see, and it’s been that way for about a hundred centuries now. If Esidisi wants to read a book, he’s pretty much going to have to tolerate human authors, because that’s all that’s left. And if Wammu wants to admire a sporting arena, he’s stuck with places like these, built by those pesky “primitives”.

Joseph asks Lisa to let him fight Kars instead, since he’s still worried about her being a woman. Also, he believes Kars is weaker than Wammu, so he should be able to defeat him. But Lisa insists on handling this, and she strips down to this circus outfit. That sounds like I’m making fun of it, but I’m not. It looks pretty badass, but also period-appropriate.

The fight is very short. Kars pulls some sort of disappearing act, then emerges from one of the stone surfaces of the temple, trying to slash at Lisa from behind with his blades. But Lisa has it scouted, and she wraps her silk scarf around Kars’ arm, charges it with Hamon, and kills him, wham, bam, thank you ma’am.

And then the real Kars emerges from the same stone, and stabs Lisa in the back. Somehow, Kars disguised one of his vampire minions to look just like him, right down to the blades in his arms, and sent that flunky out as a distraction. It’s a cheap trick, and a complete 180 from the honor displayed by Wammu in the previous fight. Kars doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about dishonoring Wammu’s memory, nor does he care about breaking his word. The only thing Kars cares about is getting the Red Stone of Aja, and now he has it.

Unfortunately, this takes Lisa Lisa out of action for the rest of the story. Kars hasn’t killed her, but she’s too badly hurt to do anything from here. That kind of sucks, because Lisa’s such a cool character. A friend of mine once complained that Lisa got a raw deal in Part 2, and we should have gotten to see her get a big fight, on par with Joseph vs. Esidisi, or Caesar vs. Wammu. I can’t really disagree with the sentiment.

However, I have a hard time figuring out how such a fight could have been worked into the story. She couldn’t beat Kars, for Pete’s sake. He’s the final boss of Part 2, so it sort of falls to Joseph to do the honors. And she couldn’t beat Wammu or Esidisi, because Joseph was the one who needed the antidote to their poison rings. Lisa could have lost to either of them--the way Caesar lost to Wammu-- except she’d have to die, which would spoil the big reveal of her origin story.

So maybe there needed to be an extra Pillar Man in the cast? Not Santana, because he’s too weak, but maybe Kars’ group has a fourth guy named Talqingedz or whatever. So Lisa Lisa could mop the floor with that dude... and then what? Would it really carry any dramatic weight for her to defeat a guy like that? A Pillar Man so ancillary to the story that the plot would flow just as well without him? When you get down to it, Lisa Lisa’s dream opponent for Part 2 just ends up looking like Wired Beck, a random jobber presented solely to establish her credibility as a fighter. And we already got Lisa vs. Wired Beck, and clearly that wasn’t satisfying enough. So Lisa Lisa vs. a Pillar Man probably wouldn’t have been much of an improvement.

Nonetheless, I think it’s a valid criticism of Battle Tendency. You come out of this story wishing we could have seen more of Lisa Lisa in action, and we just aren’t going to get it. But the root of the problem isn’t that she didn’t get to fight more, it’s that she was presented as a fighter when that really wasn’t her role in the story. She’s a teacher, training Joseph and Caesar in the ways of the Ripple, but more importantly, she’s an enigma. Who is she? What’s her connection to the Joestars? To Straizo? To Caesar? Where did she get the Red Stone of Aja? And so on.

Her Ripple mastery makes her one of the strongest fighters on the board, but that’s just another piece of the puzzle. I think there was a profile of Lisa Lisa in the manga that said her Ripple was three times stronger than Joseph’s. But we never get to see it demonstrated, because that’s not the point. We’re just supposed to wonder who this lady is and how she got so powerful, and where has she been this whole time. I think this is also why everyone keeps writing her off as a woman. It’s not just chauvanism, it’s intended to keep the reader off-balance. One minute Joseph and the Pillar Men are respecting her power, and the next minute they’re dismissing her. It keeps you guessing.

I suspect this is one reason why Araki dealt Lisa Lisa such an inglorious defeat here. Could Lisa have defeated Kars in a fair fight? Yeah, I think she could. But if she cleaned his clock, it would defeat the mystique of the character. The same is true if Lisa lost to Kars in a fair fight. We’d say “Oh, okay, she wasn’t quite as strong as Joseph, so that’s that.”

Now, the other major reason for Kars to defeat Lisa Lisa like this is to demonstrate Kars’ main character trait. He only cares about achieving his objective. Wammu had his warrior code, and Esidisi had his devotion to his comrades, but Kars has only himself and his goals. He had Lisa and Joseph cornered in the abandoned hotel, but they didn’t have the Aja Stone on them. Lisa made that bluff about a bomb, and then proposed this contest to settle things. Kars agreed, but not because he had any intention of honoring the agreement. He just let things play out because he knew Joseph would bring the Stone to the battlefield, and even if Wammu lost, he would still have all of these vampires to back him up.

That’s how Kars was able to defeat Lisa. He used Wammu’s own honor to lull Lisa into a false sense of security. After seeing how noble Wammu was in defeat, and how gracious Kars was in disciplining his vampires, she began to believe that Kars would fight her fairly. That was Kars’ plan all along. Once he had her isolated on the temple, with the Red Stone of Aja on her person, he made his play. It’s dirty pool, but it worked, and that’s all Kars cares about.

This makes Joseph super-duper pissed, but what’s he gonna do about it? He’s way down there on the ground, surrounded by vampires, and his Ripple is weak from the fight with Wammu. So now Kars can just watch from a safe vantage while his henchmen tie up the last loose end.

But then, the Nazis show up, led by Stroheim, complete with a repaired cyborg body. And Speedwagon and Smokey are here too, along with a fighting contingent of the Speedwagon Foundation. And they came prepared too! Everybody’s armed with UV emitters. To be sure, ultraviolet lamps haven’t worked so well against the Pillar Men, but against ordinary vampires, they seem to do the job quite nicely.

So while they clean house, Joseph climbs up to where Kars and Lisa are, and he’s ready to throw down. Joseph has plenty of harsh words for Kars’ dirty tactics, but Kars doesn’t care. This has all been a chess game to him. The Ripple Clan, the vampires, even Wammu and Esidisi, they were all just pieces on a board, maneuvered and arranged until he could secure a path to victory with minimal risk.

See, that’s the other thing about Lisa Lisa. It’s very subtly expressed here, but Kars was clearly very worried about her. He knew Joseph was a threat because he killed Esidisi, but he knew he could use Wammu to wear Joseph down. But Lisa Lisa is even more powerful and experienced than Joseph, and she’s shrewd enough to destroy the Stone if cornered. He knew he couldn’t beat her at her own game, so he let her think she was playing her own game in order to set her up for that sneak attack. If Kars hadn’t done that, he’d be dead by now, or the Stone would be lost or destroyed.

Likewise, I’m not sure Kars is confident about a fair fight with Joseph, even though he’s tired from fighting Wammu. I mean, you’d think he’d just charge Joseph and cut his head off if he could, but instead he lures him into another trap. Before Joseph got up here, Kars tied Lisa’s feet to a rope. He made sure not to kill her, but only so he could use her as a hostage. Kars tosses Lisa down, and Joseph has to grab the rope to keep her from falling to her death.

And the whole point of that was to keep Joseph standing still. He can’t let go of the rope, so he’s in no position to defend himself. Now Kars can just walk right up to him and kill him at his leisure. As far as Kars is concerned, this is what fighting is all about. Not a test of strength and skill like Wammu’s ideal, but the achievement of victory at minimal risk.

And this is where we see Joseph exceed Lisa Lisa. They both got suckered into Kars’ traps, but Lisa doesn’t have Joseph’s penchant for trickery and quick thinking. She’s got more Ripple power, sure, but that doesn’t matter against a guy like Kars. I’m starting to get the impression that Kars is a lot weaker than Wammu, since he fights so conservatively in this story. He may not be able to afford to fight Joseph in any other way.

So how in the hell can Joseph get out of this one? Well, first he tries to kick Kars to keep him away. Kars just cuts his leg, along with a section of rope that was in the way. Joseph’s Ripple is so weak that the kick did nothing.

Then Joseph sets his own scarf on fire and talks about how he has a plan, and it’s so awesome that he can make this work before the flames reach his body. Kars thinks this is just desperate posturing, and all Joseph seems to do is swing away. Kars thinks he’s trying to get some distance so he can recover his Hamon energy.

Then Kars cuts the rope, since Joseph won’t stand still and get murdered.

And it backfires, because Joseph did more tricky rope tricks! Hermit Purple, bitch!

Basically, that very first bit, where Joseph tried to kick him, even then, Joseph had a plan. He got Kars to cut a section of rope, which he then used to tie his own leg to the rope holding Lisa Lisa. Then he goaded Kars into cutting the rope so Lisa would fall, not realizing that Joseph had her secured with his other rope. Also, that other rope got caught on Kars’ own foot. It’s complicated.

Oh, wait, I forgot to talk about chess. Okay, so earlier, Kars was gloating about using Lisa as a pawn to achieve checkmate. It’s a good analogy, but I’m pretty sure chess was invented within the last 2000 years. In other words, Kars literally slept through the entire history of the game. So for him to be talking about it now, I have to assume he learned about chess during that month while Joseph was training. That kind of sucks. Esidisi and Wammu were running around trying to find the Red Stone of Aja, and Kars was probably chilling out in Switzerland playing chess and drinking hot cocoa all night. Wotta heel.

Then Joseph pulls himself back up with his scarf and uses Overdrive against Kars’ blade. Joseph’s Ripple is so strong that he just powers right through, destroying the blade on Kars’ arm like it’s no big deal. That’s interesting, because when Joseph first saw Kars’ blades, he worried that he wouldn’t be able to block them, and now it’s Kars who wasn’t strong enough to block.

Maybe “Light Mode” was more of an illusion than a genuine power? I mean, the blades are super-sharp, but I never understood what difference it made for them to be all sparkly, unless it’s a psychological trick to demoralize the enemy. It definitely worked on Stroheim, and it worked on Joseph for a while, but I don’t think Joseph’s gotten that much stronger since their last encounter.

Anyway, the Ripple worked, and Kars’ entire arm explodes. Yeah! Then he falls off the temple, and Joseph loosens the rope to help him on his way down. Cool! Then Kars lands on a bunch of spiky rocks, the same gruesome fate he intended for Lisa Lisa. Yeah, how’s that taste, Kars? You loincloth-wearin’ piece of crap?

So... yeah, we won! Great job everyone! Except for the Nazis, they can all go fuck off and die in a fire. Smokey’s feeling a lot better about everything, so he asks Speedwagon about Lisa Lisa. See, earlier, Lisa revealed to Joseph that she was the baby that Erina rescued at the end of Phantom Blood. But Erina told Smokey about the same baby back in New York, and Smokey knows that Lisa Lisa is Joseph’s mother.

Except, Erina told Joseph that his mother died of a disease when he was a baby, so how can Lisa be alive and a Ripple Master? Speedwagon agrees to explain, since Smokey took care of Erina while he was away, but he insists that Smokey not reveal any of this to Joseph, because it’s Joestar family business.

I hadn’t really considered it until now, but this is the first time we’ve seen Smokey and Speedwagon interact so far. They’ve gotten to know each other off-panel, and they seem to have a bond over their shared respect for the Joestars, so it lulled me into thinking they’ve appeared together before this. Anyway...

The origin of Lisa Lisa isn’t all that complicated, actually. She was raised by Straizo and became a Ripple warrior, while Jonathan and Erina’s son, George Joestar II, joined the British Air Force in World War I. George and Lisa fell in love, married, and had a baby, Joseph.

The catch is that there was one last zombie from Phantom Blood. Speedwagon and Straizo thought they got all of Dio’s zombies, but one of them was very clever and managed to stay hidden. He just made sure to eat his victims’ entire body, so as not to leave any physical evidence. Also, he faked a disability to excuse himself from any daylight activities. By the 1910′s, he had successfully infiltrated the RAF as a Major.

So George learned of this, because he knew all the Phantom Blood lore from his wife and mother. But George never had any Ripple abilities himself. He may have had the potential for it, but he was never trained, and I guess he didn’t develop it naturally, the way Joseph did.

So he tried to gather evidence to expose the zombie Major, but his plan backfired and the zombie killed him instead, then covered up George’s death by reporting it as a plane crash. Speedwagon and Straizo investigated this, but before they could act...

Lisa got wind of it and took matters into her own hands. She killed the zombie major, but she did it in front of another officer. The authorities knew nothing of zombies or Stone Masks, so they just thought she murdered an RAF officer in cold blood. So she had to leave Britian as a fugitive, and she’s been living in exile in Italy ever since. The Speedwagon Foundation has been trying to clear her name, but I doubt there’s whole lot they could do about a case like this.

And there you have it. Erina was so heartbroken over the death of her son and the exile of her daughter-in-law that she asked Speedwagon to never tell Joseph what really happened to his parents, and to keep the Ripple a secret from him. Of course, none of that really worked, because Joseph developed the Ripple on his own, and Straizo and Stroheim forced Joseph to develop those abilities even further, leading him directly to his long lost mother. Erina wanted to protect Joseph, but she couldn’t save him from his own fate. Smokey starts crying, and I’m like “same tbh.”

This ties back to a point I made early on. When I watched the anime, it seemed kind of random to introduce Smokey, then drop him for most of the story, then bring him back at the end. But now, it makes a lot more sense. He was a viewpoint character, but only so far as the stuff about the Joestar Family. All the fighting and Ripple stuff could be done without Smokey, since Joseph could function as his own viewpoint character for that part. And while it’s kind of weird for Smokey to be absent for so long, it helps that he seemed to feel the same way. He clearly went out of his way to join Speedwagon on this mission to Switzerland. He simply cares about the Joestar Family that much. He couldn’t sit in New York and wait for an update.

Anyway, Lisa’s going to be okay, and the vampires are all dead, and Kars is slowly dying from the Ripple wound Joseph gave him, so it looks like we’re all finished here. Stroheim decides to put Kars out of his misery by shooting him with high-intensity UV rays. Maybe that’s overkill at this point, but we might as well let Stroheim have his fun.

Oh SHI--

So yeah, Kars had the Red Stone of Aja this whole time, but he only just now decided to use it. That’s because the Stone will only amplify the power of his special Stone Mask if there’s a powerful light source. This whole fight has been happening at night, so Kars had to wait until morning to try this little stunt. But Stroheim has helpfully supplied a bunch of UV lamps, and those work just peachy, thanks. Fuck Stroheim forever.

And just like Dio and Straizo before, the Stone Mask digs bony protrusions into Kars’ brain, but this time the mask has the Super Aja powering it, so Kars stands to gain even more power, turning him into... what exactly?

#jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #kars #lisa lisa #robert e o speedwagon #smokey brown #rudol von stroheim #george joestar ii

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papergirllife · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem , @caratzennie , @johnnysuhnflower , @euphoricchannie , @yeollieseo , @jjhmk , @sherzess

(lmk if you wanna be on the list) (and sorry for reposting, it just won’t show on the tags)

The new house you’ve just moved in was small, you were perfectly fine with the size, you always stayed in your room anyways, the sizes elsewhere doesn’t really matter. It wouldn’t have been an issue if they weren’t making a fuss outside. They were yet again arguing about the company’s debts and complaining about the recent stock market turn outs. Your parents sold the old house in order to pay off some of the company loans, moving into a decent condominium in the older township.

Why are they so obnoxiously loud? Why can’t they talk like normal civilised people? They had an awful habit of shouting from one room to another, even if it’s about 3 feet apart, the study to the kitchen like it was just steps away.

You placed your pillow on top of your ear as the other was covered with the other one you’re sleeping on, you woke up from nightmares just this morning and needed a nap, but from the looks of things, you weren’t getting one anytime soon.

You reluctantly got up from your bed and told them to lower down their voices, but they just ignored you, as they always did. After the third time of fruitless attempt, you’ve given up hope on resting, but your body wasn’t happy with what was happening, the voices in your head hammering in your head, blaming you for what happened as you felt your heartbeat quicken, your breathing staggered. You could feel your whole body tense up as tears started to cloud your vision.

You inhaled deep breaths as you tried to push the anxiety attack away, humming a song, fiddling with a pen, but nothing you read on the internet helped. You hugged your knees towards your chest as you sat on the corner of your room, trying to muffle your choked sobs. A sentence you kept repeating in your head like a mantra,

‘make it stop.’

It’s currently 10 a.m. and your parents are rushing you to hurry up with your morning routine as they have an important meeting with some potential investor, they’re taking you along because they need an errand girl to buy them coffee and in case of any other task that is deemed much too troublesome for them like filing away documents or printing out contracts.

You woke up at the crack of dawn to get ready, so to say that you were tired after yesterday’s ordeal was an understatement. As your father told you to double check the files needed in the bag, you found out you left one up stairs, your palms sweaty as you informed them of your mishap.

“How can you be so dumb?! This is why you’re such a failure of a person! I told you to prepare everything last night! Were you day dreaming again?!” your father bellowed from the driver’s seat, his angry eyes filled with rage whenever his gaze darted to your sight through the rearview mirror, putting your lives at risk on a busy road.

You bite back retorts, head hung low through out the quick detour back, exiting the car alone to go back up and retrieve the file you left behind.

Not a day goes by where they don’t criticise you for something you did, whether an accident or not. You can feel your anxiety levels going up again as your heartbeat picks up speed, a wave of sadness coming over you. You quickly recalled a familiar song to block out their hurtful words ringing in your head.

“Useless piece of shit,” your father mumbled as he drove, throwing a clothe he uses to clean his car on your face, the rough material stinging you.

As you dug through your pockets for loose change in your jacket, your fingers found a card instead, it was Mr Suh’s card.

I can take you away from all this chaos raging among your family, if you can call it a family that is. I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N.

‘What does he mean?’ you wondered.

“Miss, you’re holding up the queue. Do you have 50 cents or not?” the cashier at your local starbucks snaps at you, yanking you away from your own thoughts.

“Sorry, I don’t,” you apologised.

You looked around you to see the long line behind you and the usual full house condition of the cafe, sighing at what you call a norm of your life now, being an errand girl for your parents, and not even a little bit of acknowledgement of your existence nor feelings.

‘Can Mr Suh really make all this stop?’ you asked yourself.

Now you think you’re ridiculous for thinking a man of such wealth and power would be interested in a girl with such a puny presence among a crowd and not even a valued family member in your family’s eyes. He’s going to get bored of a girl like you someday, how long would he stay interested? A week? A month? A year? You doubt you’ll even last a night.

You begrudgingly took the bagged coffee from the counter and quickly walked back to your parent’s office block, head hung low as you thought about your parents’ attitude if this investor ends up leaving them empty handed, shivering at the thought of being their ‘mental stress ball’.

“I’m sorry, but the debts your company is in isn’t something we’d want to have on our company’s reputation if we invested. Thank you for having us,” the man in the middle, presumably the boss said, a bored look on his face.

Just like that the investors stood up and walked out the glass door of the office. Once they were out, your parents let out a frustrated groan. You quickly hurried to close up the office as they always told you to after a meeting on weekends without workers in the office.

A month later

The company is now under leased after being certified bankruptcy. Your parents’ savings are running low, so they told you to get a part time job at a local western grocer that rich people of Seoul go to for groceries that could most probably buy you a meal at your nearby convenience store, at the winery section, where you are now giving out samples to the customers.

It wasn’t an easy job, the customers here have high standards, whatever you’re giving out as samples are always deemed lacked elegance compared to the ones that they usually have, yet they always come back for more samples the next time they come to pick up groceries, and if they’re in a good mood, they might actually buy something. People who act rich but actually aren’t as wealthy as what they boast always ticks you off, they remind you of your own family.

On Friday nights, when the alcohol section always closes earlier are the times when you’ll head to the bookstore in the same mall you were working at to read, you knew that’s a really rude thing to do, but you can’t afford buying books anymore. So you read a few chapters every night, and slightly more on Friday nights, you never told your parents about the different working hours on this particular day of the week, you don’t want to go back earlier just to see their scowling faces as they hunch over different sorts of bills and statements.

You finally found a way to cope with your anxiety levels and depression by working out early in the morning, you read from the newspapers at the worker’s lounge in the grocer that it helps, and so you gave it a try, little did you know that you would enjoy it and the feeling of staying fit boosted your confidence. But on days when you felt tired and didn’t achieve the results you were aiming at, your mind reminds you of the times when your parents called you ugly, it was started when they found out you were dating, on those days, a shut of your eyes and you’ll remember the scene of them hitting you unfolding once again, if you focused hard enough you could still feel the sting on your face.

You pushed those thoughts away as you quickly packed up for the night, as you were preparing to leave, a man came in your section, requesting to buy a bottle of wine. You were going to say that the winery section is closed, but as you turned around, the words got stuck in your throat.

It was Mr Suh, dressed in his usual working attire. Even after sitting in the office for a whole day, he still looks breathtaking, his clothes held no crease.

“Y/N,” Mr Suh said your name, the corners of his lips tugging up in a smile.

He remembers you? After so long?

“Mr Suh. H-how can I help you?” you asked, eyes darting around hoping that there aren’t any more customers, worried that they’ll realise that you were letting Mr Suh in despite the closing time.

You weren’t as anxious as talking to strangers before, but Mr Suh was no stranger to you, not really anyways, and he always had an aura that made you shy away from his presence.

“I’m looking for a bottle of Pinot Noir by Emos,” Mr Suh told you.

You took tiny but hurried steps towards a counter where the grocer kept its more expensive bottles, typed in the password and handed it to him. You silently went to the counter, typing in the bottle’s code to ring up the register.

Mr Suh handed you 200 dollars, for a bottle that only costed 85. When you opened your mouth to tell him about the error, he stopped you.

“That’s tip for bothering you after working hours, keep it,” he said.

You tried to disagree, but he refused, saying that it is what he should do. Mr Suh bid you goodbye, before he leaves your sight, he looks back at you with an odd glint in his eyes, one that you fail to read once again.

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

The wine was supposed to be for his conquest tonight, yet when he walked through that hotel door, he knew he wasn’t going to enjoy tonight at all. Maybe the girl isn’t pretty enough? No, she was his usual take on girls he brings to bed, but something was very much off.

Johnny didn’t usually mind a bit of harmless flirting over wine before sex, he did have a tiring day at work, usually this process would calm him down a bit before getting down to business. However, he found the flirting part rather boring and very much tedious today, the girl’s flirty remarks seemed it was droning on to no end. So he sped things up, the wine long forgotten as their limbs tangle up with the sheets.

There was something nagging him behind his head, he couldn’t place a finger on it, until when he closed his eyes, instead of seeing the girl beneath him, he saw you, your tiny body beneath his as your beautiful glossy eyes look into his, the size difference between the two of you significant in his head. That was the image that kept him going, the usual him would open his eyes wide and take in the figure beneath him, but today he kept his eyes closed as he places his head on her shoulder, that action might seem affectionate, but this was just an excuse for Johnny to let his imagination run wild without being questioned.

Johnny left after washing up in the bathroom, leaving just after one round isn’t his style at all, usually Johnny could go up to four or five if he enjoyed the first round, Johnny lets out a big sigh as he gets back into the car, he should’ve asked you to dinner instead of wasting time fucking a girl just to have him imagine her being you in order to finish up.

Johnny puts his car on drive as he swiftly leaves the parking lot, hoping a night’s sleep would clear his thoughts of you. But as Johnny’s head hits his soft pillow, he could only ask himself.

‘What are you doing to me, Y/N?’

When you woke up the next day after a long night of reading through your business course books, trying to take in whatever you can before they realise that you don’t really know what you’re reading at all.

You walked out to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast, but before you got there, you heard voices.

“We can’t send her college, we don’t have any money left,” you heard your father’s voice say.

“But it’s her future, you’re going to put that after the company?” your mother’s voice questions.

“It’s not like she’s smart enough for it anyways. I walk by her room while she studies, and it seems like she’s just staring at an empty void, we can’t place our future in her hands, we’ll starve!” your father argues back.

What your father said had stung your heart, but after a minute or so after taking it in, it wasn’t the first time they had said such hurtful words about you. You dragged your feet back to bed, no longer having the appetite for breakfast.

You went out for a run when you felt your heartbeat quicken up as your mind floods back all the bad memories that were brought forth because of the conversation you overheard between your parents, trying your best to avoid a full on anxiety attack.

Johnny loves weekends, it was the only time he could invest himself into working out instead of the short two hours he does before work, the gym is the place where he built up his high self esteem, and it’s the reason other than his good looks of course, that brings all the girls into his sight.

Yet he didn’t feel like he achieved as much in the gym after last night’s events. Yes, he did give in his full attention in all the exercises. He purposely slept early so he could feel energized today. Yet he didn’t have the desire to show off his body through a one night stand. The party that he said he would go seemed troublesome instead of his usual excitement of knowing he wasn’t going to bed alone. He took out his phone to text his friend that he was going to sit this one out, making up an excuse about not feeling well.

Johnny was laying around watching television as he scrolled through the latest news of the stock market, feeling a sense of pride as he sees his company’s stock rising after he had taken over from his father.

The familiar chime of his grandfather clock in the corner alerts Johnny of the time, 7 chimes means 7pm. Something suddenly clicks in his head, the sign that states the operating hours for the winery in the mall, you were going to go off work in thirty minutes.

Johnny quickly changes into jeans and a black knitted sweater that hugs his physique perfectly, styling his hair a bit before heading out his door, a smile unconsciously gracing his pretty lips.

When Johnny got to the winery section, he was disappointed to see that you had left, only left with a promoter of some beer, he tried his luck with the staff, hoping to know your whereabouts.

“It’s a Saturday today, so I think she’s off to buy a cup of instant noodles for dinner, she’ll either be at the cashier counters now, or eating at the food court.”

Johnny thanks the promoter as he rushes to the counters, he wouldn’t have spotted you if he didn’t recognise the baby blue checkered scrunchie popping up from the crowd that you wore the last time to match your uniform.

Johnny makes his way in between the masses of people, making some people frown in disbelief as his large figure makes them move away. Johnny plucked the cup of instant noodles out of your hand when he got there, making you jump in fright from the sudden intrusion of your wandering thoughts.

“Mr Suh?” you addressed him when you looked up to see who had took away your favourite brand of cup noodles.

“You’re not eating that tonight, come with me,” Johnny said, his voice more cheerful than the previous times you had seen him, but why?

Johnny takes your hands in his, a smirk making way on his face as he feels your small shaky hands in his large ones, he didn’t mind one bit, instead he likes how shy you are around him. Johnny places the cup of instant noodles on some nearby shelf before dragging you out of the grocer.

When he was out, he stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at you, trying to look into your eyes that were darting away from his. He finds it endearing, how you’re always so nervous whenever you’re with him, it was something very much new to him.

Johnny suggests a few high class restaurants for dinner, rattling off big names in hopes to impress you.

“I-i was only planning to have a cup of instant noodles, Mr Suh. Anything’s fine to me,” you said after many times of trying to tell him that he didn’t need to take you out for dinner.

“But I want you to choose. Go ahead, anywhere you want,” Johnny said and waits, curious of what you’ll pick.

You rocked on you heels and bit your lip in thought as you wrecked your head for ideas to get yourself out of this situation, but you couldn’t help but feel the desire to grab dinner with him instead of eating cup noodles at the food court alone again, and the fact that his hand was still held onto yours made you feel a sense of serenity and had a need to stay with him.

“Do you have somewhere which makes you feel like a child again when you eat their food?”

Johnny was taken back by such a request. Was it touching? He hasn’t felt that from anyone else other than his family and a handful of close friends, certainly not a lady other than his mom. Was it different? Yes. But was it bad? Certainly not, instead he feels a tug in his heart. The girls he met only made requests, instead of asking for his opinion, because they know he could afford anything they requested for, but then there’s you, breaking all of those other girls’ standards. You were also the first one who made him speechless, even if it was just a mere seconds.

“I know a place.”

You genuinely didn’t know why you had made such a sentimental suggestion, you just thought that food from a restaurant that reminds him of home would mean that it was affordable, but other than that reason, it was because if you were to have dinner with a man whom you only had met a handful of times, you might as well get to know him better by knowing little things about him.

You weren’t dumb, you remember what he had said about being interested in you, and that having dinner with him was a risk to your own safety as well. Yet you couldn’t stray away from his dashing smile and the way his eyes shine so brightly when he sees you.

You were slowly falling down the rabbit hole.

The interior of his car had several alterations made to suite his liking, it was interesting, compared to the people who just bought cars based on their ranking and wealth just for bragging rights in an afternoon tea. His car even smelt nice, like the Jo Malone cologne you’ve taken a whiff from the sample sticks given out, you wonder if that’s what he usually wears to work.

You couldn’t help but steal peeks at Mr Suh when he drives, the way he’s so concentrated and how he could casually drive with only one hand on the wheel made you swoon slightly in the passenger seat as his rnb music plays on the radio. You shouldn’t be thinking about Mr Suh this way regardless that he’s interested in you, especially given that the two of you have quite a large age gap, as well as the fact that you weren’t allowed to date until after college. If your parents found out about you going out with Mr Suh, they’re going to skin you alive. That thought made you shiver as you suddenly realise that you can’t be seen with a man out in public, if any of your relatives find out, they’ll definitely snitch on you.

You lowered yourself in the seat as you hope that you won’t run into any of your family members when you reach wherever Mr Suh’s taking you. The drive was quiet, only the radio playing softly in the background, making you feel relaxed. Suddenly, Johnny stopped at the traffic lights, taking a long look at you from his seat.

“Why did you suggest eating somewhere which reminds me of my childhood?” Johnny asked, his eyes full of seriousness.

“I-i just wanted to get to know you better, is that not the right way to make friends?” you answered, glad that you’ve pondered this question yourself.

“It’s not the usual way, but I like how you think, Y/N,” Johnny said before he averts his attention back on the road when the lights turned green.

Johnny could sense something was off with you from the way you looked around anxiously from your seat when the both of you reached your destination, the way your brows furrowed and the way your jittery fingers mindlessly move about. It wasn’t a shady part of town, although the two of you were at the slightly older establishments of Seoul.

“Are you alright? Why are you suddenly so nervous?” Johnny asked, worry written on his face.

You looked down on your fingers that were splayed across your lap, twitching the hem of your skirt to try and calm your nerves with no avail, but you had to say something, Mr Suh, as you’ve grown to realise is a man who’s persistent and straight forward.

“I’m worried that we’ll bump into anyone I know. I’m...I’m not supposed to be seeing anyone or going out with people without permission,” you told him, embarrassed at the fact that you were still very much on a leash despite being an adult.

Johnny feels a sense of guilt settling down his stomach as he sees your eyes avoiding him, if he could take a guess, you must feel embarrassed right now, to have a family like that, maybe that’s why you distant yourself from people around you, they must’ve judged you based on your parents’ decisions towards your life.

Johnny reached towards the spare sweater he kept in his gym bag and handed it to you.

“Here, this has a hoodie. I don’t think anyone would be able to recognise you with it on,” Johnny said in a gentle tone, not even a hint of judgement in his voice.

You obliged and slipped the sweater on, as well as the hoodie onto your head. The sight of your small figure drowning in Johnny’s hoodie made him smile, he never thought his clothes would look so cute on you.

“Come on, it’s peak hour and I’m starving,” Johnny said with a smile that seems to always lift your mood.

You nodded mindlessly, eyes gazed into his warm honey filled eyes and soft smile. When Johnny’s trance broke on you, you quickly reached for the car door, only to see Johnny opening it for you.

‘Must be nice to have long legs to walk that fast,’ you thought to yourself.

But when he held his hand out to help you out of the car, that’s when your head went haywire and could only feel your cheeks burning up from the gentlemanly gesture that you hadn’t expected.

You hope your hand wasn’t shaking as obviously as it felt, or that would’ve been very embarrassing, you thank the skies for the chilly weather, or your hands would’ve started getting clammy from what a nervous wreck you’ve become.

The cold was getting to you as the both of you were waiting in line for a table and Johnny could tell from the way you subtly rubbed your neck, hands lingering there to leave some warmth as the wind blows by. Without thinking, he grabs the drawstrings of his hoodie and secures it surrounding your face like a cute chipmunk.

“There, all better.”

He could tell how nervous his bold action made you feel from the way you stuttered out a thank you, the two words almost lost in the wind from how soft it sounded.

Johnny didn’t know why, but the way you’ll get all flustered from his actions warms his chest like a cup of hot coco in the winter snow.

Not long after, the two of you had gotten a tiny table for two. It was cramped, but Johnny didn’t mind, as long as it’s this restaurant, and as a plus, he could see your face from a closer perspective. He was secretly admiring the shape of your cute little nose while he pretended to look through the menu that he knew like the back of his palm.

“What’s your favourite on the menu? I don’t know what to try first, all the pictures look so nice,” you said as your eyes was open wide with interest, taking in the photos of the food on the colourful menu.

Johnny was taken aback on how you had asked for his opinion instead of the demands of carvier and champagne that he used to hear all the time. He must’ve had a weird look on his face, because the silence made you furrow your brows.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve sounded weird and came off as boring, but I really don’t know what to get, so I thought you should suggest me something since you seem to come here often. Sorry, I ramble a lot when I’m nervous, I’m not a very sociable person, so the things I say might come off as odd...

“No, Y/N, listen, it’s fine. I like it when you talk, and it’s cute that you ramble. And no, I don’t find you odd or boring. I was just surprised you’d ask for my opinion, not many people do that unless it’s about business. I’m glad that you value my opinion, even if it’s just dinner,” Johnny explained, he wanted to listen to your voice longer, but the thought of anything making you uncomfortable surprisingly annoyed Johnny.

It was the first time someone had not found you awkward when you started rambling, you didn’t do it on purpose, it was just that the lack of human interaction made you socially anxious about talking to people and when you want to express something. Johnny is truly an eye opener for you.

Johnny might have ordered a little bit too much for the two of you, but he could always take away and leave it for Mark when he drops by tomorrow. Although Johnny had came here many times, mostly on his own or with Mark, he couldn’t deny the satisfaction and happiness that filled his heart as you tried all the dishes with the most wholesome expressions on your face.

You weren’t Johnny’s workers or business partners, you didn’t need to appease him and give him positive reactions, because with you, he wasn’t Neo Enterprise’s CEO, he was just Johnny and it doesn’t bother him one bit.

The two of you talked about the most random things, from Johnny’s business partners Taeyong and Doyoung fighting in his office, to the time you pranked your co worker by mixing some heavy alcohol into his coffee.

“He couldn’t tell?” Johnny asked, curious because he was a coffee addict himself.

“He thought it was just part of the flavour, it was one of those seasonal starbucks drinks that he bought,” you explained.

Johnny paid for dinner before you could protest and refused to take your money when you had offered to pay him back your share.

You trudged beside Johnny silently when he said that he was going to take you home, you haven’t had such a nice time since forever, and you didn’t want this beautiful moment to come to an end.

You had a sad smile on your face as you watched Johnny drive, it was a peaceful scenery to take in, his face calm as he steered comfortably, the radio once again playing softly in the background.

When you had reached your house, you didn’t really know how to react, other than looking at him silently as he does the same as well.

“Thank you for tonight Johnny, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” you said genuinely, grateful that someone as interesting as Johnny would even bother giving you the time of the day.

You figured that this was the polite thing to say, but you inwardly cursed at yourself for sounding like a robot. You shouldn’t be reacting this way, especially due to the fact that he’s so much more older than you are, maybe not too old, 5 to 6 years maybe? Is that considered a big age gap?

“I had a great time with you too, Y/N. Thank you for having dinner with me,” Johnny said, usually he spoke this sentence like a little white lie to whoever he had to meet for business sake, but to you? It was nothing but the truth.

Johnny continued holding his stare even after what he said, the sincerity in his eyes evident as a soft smile graces his lips.

“You should head up now, Y/N. It’s already 9 p.m., if you stay any longer they’ll be suspicious,” Johnny reminded you.

“Yeah, okay,” you replied, immediately feeling down once more.

Even after you agreed to go up, your legs weren’t willing to move, you were going to miss him, so you asked him one last question before you willed yourself to open the car door, you were going to sound desperate, but in that moment, you didn’t have a care in the world.

“Will I ever see you again?”

Happiness fills your heart as you heard the question that comes after.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

#nct smut #nct fluff #nct 127 #johnny suh #johnny smut #nct #nct 2020 #nct dream #wayv #johnny seo

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fan-fantasies · 4 years

Text

Strength

A/N: Part 2 to Weakness.

Pairing: Sigtryggr x Reader

Warnings: Smut, pregnancy

Masterlist

Part One

Sigtryggr dispatched the Danes back to Wales, assuring them that he’d be joining them soon. Uhtred spoke with his men trying to figure out what had snapped in the young Dane to cause him to abandon the kingdom and search for some woman. Sihtric suggested that you were his sister, or some other kin.

“I don’t think she’s his sister. Crazy like that is caused from losing the woman you love,” Finan sighed.

“He said he had no wife,” Osferth said.

“And I can say I have no balls, doesn’t make it true,” Finan chuckled.

“I’d believe you,” Sihtric said. Finan punched the man in his shoulder and rolled his eyes. The men quieted down as they saw Sigtryggr approaching.

“We should leave immediately,” he said, grabbing a canteen and filling it with water.

“And where exactly are we going?” Uhtred asked. “We do not know where she went. We do not know her so we don’t know how she thinks or where she would go.”

“I’ve been thinking about where she might go. I know that she had knowledge of the Danes settled in East Anglia. They would be the closest and safest option for her to seek refuge with,” he answered.

“And who is she to you exactly? We have some wagers goin’,” Finan asked. Sigtryggr paused and debated on whether or not he should tell them. He knew that any wife or child could be used against him which is why he had been adamant about not having either, at least not for a long while. He wanted to live in safety and peace, limiting the threat to those he loved.

Before he could answer, however, Haesten wandered over on his horse before he was set to leave.

“Off to find Sigtryggr’s whore? Best of luck, Uhtred. I do hope that we meet again,” he smiled. Sigtryggr went to grab his sword but Uhtred stopped him. Haesten just laughed as he rode off with the other Danes. Osferth sighed and tossed the grinning Finan a coin.

“I don’t know how you haven’t killed him yet,” Sigtryggr said to Uhtred.

“Trust me, his day will come and it will come soon,” he said.

“She is not my whore. She should be my wife but I was blinded by my fear and now I may have lost her forever. I want to make a decent journey before nightfall, so if we could be on our way.” The men went and mounted their horses, setting off for East Anglia. Uhtred hoped that you were going that way, but none of them truly knew for sure.

Meanwhile, you were still at the nunnery. You found that their company was soothing and you were of use to them. Many of them were older and found it hard to do the yard work which you gladly took over. You left them to their prayers and they left you to your thoughts. You knew that you couldn’t stay there forever, but for now would do.

You wondered if Sigtryggr had noticed your absence yet. Perhaps you had made your decision to leave too quickly. You supposed that he had a right to know about his child, but you knew that it would be a distraction for him. He was making a name for himself in England and he still had more to do before he could settle down.

You were fine with living a simple life with your child if it meant that your love could achieve glory for his name. You knew many women had to sacrifice things for those they love, and happiness just had to be yours.

You were broken from your thoughts when Sister Eawynn knocked on your door.

“Supper is ready, dear,” she said. She was the only one that you had really opened up to there. She found you crying in the garden and comforted you. She felt bad for your situation and treated you kindly.

She told you how the Danes that lived near by were not troublesome and that she felt times were truly changing. Perhaps one day soon, Saxons and Danes could live together in peace. You weren’t sure that it would happen soon, but you knew that the younger generation of Danes was tired of all the bloodshed. Victory could be won in many other ways. You told her that that’s how your Sigtryggr was. He had seen the hardships of battle and knew that sometimes words were the way to success. She took your hand in hers and smiled softly, telling you that he sounded like a good man. He was, you agreed, but you couldn’t interfere with his life any longer.

You ate very little that night and had trouble finding sleep. You decided to sit in the moonlight for a while to ease your mind. The night was chilly, but not uncomfortably so. You took a seat under a large tree to sit and listen to the silence. You ended up dozing off with your cloak wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

Off in the distance, Sigtryggr and the others continued to ride in the darkness. Finan was complaining that they should find somewhere to camp for the night but Sigtryggr kept asking them to ride just a bit longer. Finan was relieved when they saw the lantern in the window of the nunnery. Uhtred wasn’t thrilled by the sight, knowing nuns aren’t usually his biggest fans.

They rode to the gate and knocked on the door, hoping someone was awake. Sister Eawynn opened the door a crack and looked out.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“We wish to lodge here for the night. Some food and ale would be appreciated,” Finan answered.

“We will be gone by morning,” Sigtryggr quickly added. The nun looked them up and down and sighed before opening the door.

“We don’t have ale, nor much food, but you are welcome to stay the night.” She led them to the main hall and gave them from bread and water. The men were grateful to have a place to rest out of the elements, even if the majority of them felt uncomfortable in such a religious place.

“Thank you, sister,” Osferth bowed his head. She gave him a soft smile and turned her attention to the other, more rough looking, men of the group.

“Do I get to know whom I am feeding?” She questioned.

“I am Uhtred Ragnarson, these are my men, Finan, Sihtric, and Osferth,” he pointed to the tired men.

“I am Sigtryggr, Lord of Wales,” he said.

“Sigtryggr?” The holy woman repeated. He nodded, confused at her sudden question. “May I ask to where you are journeying to?”

“East Anglia, to the Danes that are settled there. I am going there to join my... wife.” Sigtryggr’s eyes fell to the floor at his fib.

“Your wife, you say? She wouldn’t happen to be about yea high, (Y/H/C) hair, pretty girl?” She asked. Sigtryggr jumped to his feet and ran to the woman, startling her.

“You’ve seen her?!”

“She sleeps here this very night. I am only telling you this because she made you out to sound like a good man and I know that a good man will make things right by that dear girl,” she said. The men looked at each other in surprise. Sigtryggr could hardly contain his excitement. He hadn’t considered that you might not even want to see him. You did flee from him after-all.

“Please, take me to her. I do wish to make things right.” She led him down the hall to your makeshift chamber. She knocked on the door and when she heard no response, she opened it slowly.

“(Y/N), are you awake?” She whispered. She opened the door wider and noticed that you weren’t in your bed. Sigtryggr pushed past her and into the room. He noticed that your bag was still there but you were not.

“Where could she have gone?” He questioned in a panic. Had you heard them come in and fled in the night? Did you really not want to be with him that terribly?

He ran back to the hall where the other men were already dozing off.

“She isn’t here. We have to leave now, we can probably find her.”

“In the dark when we’re all exhausted? Why don’t we wait until morning,” Finan suggested, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Because she is out there somewhere. She could be in danger!”

“Who’s in danger?” The frantic man whipped around when he heard the voice. He wasted no time in running over to you and scooping you up in his arms. “Sigtryggr? How did you find me?”

“By the fate of the Gods,” he sighed in relief. The nun pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Why? Why did you come after me?” You asked. You were still disoriented from just waking up and you didn’t know how you should react.

“Because I love you and you ran from me,” he lowered his voice, “and took something of mine with you, I hear.”

“Haesten,” you sighed. You looked at the other men standing behind him and recognized Uhtred but not the others. “Maybe we should let these men rest. We can talk in my room.”

“Thank you, lady,” Osferth said. You told Sister Eawynn that she had nothing to worry about and led Sigtryggr to your room.

“I’m sorry I left without a word but I couldn’t ruin your chance at glory. I couldn’t be the cause of your weakness,” you admitted. He cradled your face in his hands and made you look into his eyes.

“You are my strength. You could never be my weakness, not you nor our child growing inside of you,” he said. A tear slipped down your cheek and he kissed it away.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said, but times are changing. Life no longer has to be endless battles and bloodshed. I will lead our people into a new era of victory, with you by my side as my wife. And I will create a new world for our child.” By the end of his speech you were bawling. He was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear but it all seemed too good to be true.

“Surely it can’t be that simple,” you told him.

“No, it won’t be simple, but I won’t give up. Not on that dream nor on you. I should’ve made you my wife long ago, and now I’m asking your forgiveness.” You collapsed into his arms and sobbed. Damn pregnancy emotions.

“Of course. Of course I forgive you. As long as you can forgive me for leaving,” you said.

“There’s no reason to apologize. You wanted what you thought was best for me and I could never be angry at you for that,” he replied. You said nothing more, just pulled him into a kiss.

He sat on the bed and sat you in his lap. The kiss was hungry and passionate, like neither of you could get enough. He broke the kiss and began to nip at your neck.

“I could never live without you.” His voice was breathless and raspy. His hands touched any part of you that he could get, trying to memorize every inch as if you were going to disappear.

You pulled your dress up around your hips as you straddled him. You fumbled with his pants, pulling his cock from it’s confines.

“There’s no rush, my love,” he chuckled.

“No, I need you. I need you now. We’ll have all the time in the world for patience later,” you said.

“All the time in this world and Valhalla,” he replied. He hissed in pleasure as you sank down on his cock. He filled you perfectly, like the gods made him just for you.

You began to ride him, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him inside you. You began to move faster, his breath quickening, filling the room with sounds of pleasure.

His fingers dug into your ass in the most delicious way as he guided you on his cock. Pressure was building in your stomach as you approached your release. He pulled you in for another kiss when he felt your pussy clenching him tighter.

His hips lifted to meet yours at the perfect moment, sending you over the edge. Your head fell back and your vision went white for a split second. You were brought back down to earth when Sigtryggr flipped you onto your back.

“Did you think I was done with you?” He growled in your ear. He thrusted into your sensitive pussy, your body arching off the bed. His hands found yours and held them over your head as he pounded into you.

Your body writhed beneath him as you could already feel your second climax approaching. His hair tickeled your neck and the sensation was enough to overload your senses. Your legs locked around his waist, not being able to stop the scream of ecstasy that tore from your throat. His rhythm began to stutter until he finally stilled within you, finding his own release.

No words were exchanged, just the sounds of your breathing. He laid next to you and held you in his arms. His hand settled on your stomach and a small smile found it’s way to your lips. For the first time in a long time you felt at peace, like everything would be okay. Maybe there was strength in love after all.

——————————————————————

Sigtryggr Taglist: @ivarinleatherpants

TLK Taglist: @cornervase

#sigtryggr x reader #sigtryggr #the last kingdom #sigtryggr fanfiction #tlk #the last kingdom fanfiction

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thehippaes · 3 years

Text

The worst of Bangers - playlist

Spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ZZ3PEFfGCqNIVWUVpFt9t?si=4842722153114449 Intro Unbearable narcissist that I am, I was thrilled to see that Isaac Asimov’s Foundation was being adapted into a big budget straight-to-the-internet TV series not because I honestly thought it would be any good, but because I hoped it might finally vindicate one of Bangers’ most (perhaps unfairly?) maligned songs if a few more people consumed the source material that it was an extremely concise precis of. As it happens I’m proper enjoying the series, faithless as the adaptation is - incorporating both emotions and women (two of my favourite things) neither of which were really even hinted at in the books. This train of thought, the fact that Small Pleasures turned 10 earlier this year, and my realisation that I find most of the Bangers back catalogue to weigh heavily on my creative soul as well intentioned but badly executed trash, led me to create a Spotify playlist called The worst of Bangers and write this accompanying blog to revisit some of the most forgotten, dismissed and/or reviled deep cuts. Before I start, these songs are included for a variety of metrics, often because they have a noted down-turn of listens on Spotify compared their album position. That’s not a great metric for a band who split up before Spotify achieved the godlike ubiquity that it now enjoys, but c’est la pomme de la terre. If you can hum any of these songs just by reading their names then you’re doing better than me 3 hours ago. Asimov When Bird was released, I remember several people telling me that this song shouldn’t have made the cut. I got the impression that some people thought it was a joke that didn’t sit that well on an album that was mostly dwelling on depression and suicide, and some others thought it was just a bit shit. Exactly nobody told me that they understood what I was getting at, so for the sake of posterity I’ll explain what it meant to me. Foundation – as I see it – is a musing on humankind’s repeated inability to learn one of the most universal lessons. The story begins with the fall of the Galactic Empire, and each subsequent generation confronts a crisis which requires rejecting the philosophy of the previous generation. Each time, the ruling forces adamantly refuse to realise this – rigidly adhering to the most recent philosophy - until one character tricks them into it and saves the day, thus ushering in a new age. I find the prescience of this to be one of the most depressing facts of human existence, and something I was wallowing in at the time, hence the song. Listening back I think the chorus is great, and Andrew’s weird bass slide in the middle is a joy. Vibrate This song is undeniably cool, but every time we played it people stared at us like we were stupid. I think it’s the emotional pay-off for Bird, after such a miserable time it’s just an acceptance that probably the healthiest thing to do is to accept defeat and plod on ignoring all the glitzy wiff-waff and intriguing mysticism in the world. This is the Bangers song I still sing to myself when I’m doing really practical DIY like building shelves. The truth that I’m more of a practical ox of a guy than an ethereal waif has been one of the healthiest realisations of my life. Stressful Festival The only thing that I ever heard said about this song was that it sounded ‘like Bangers’ on an album that largely didn’t. I think that’s bullshit, Bangers very rarely played this kind of classic on-the-beat punk vibe. Two interesting facts about this song: 1. I remember writing all the guitar riffs in Berlin after playing with De Cracks in the Ramones Museum and their Ramones-core translating much better to acoustic guitar than any of Banger’s music did. 2. While recording I puked in my mouth singing “sick to death of every one of you” and swallowed it again before coming in for the last chorus. If you listen really hard you can hear it coming up. A Quite Different Coastline In amongst the fairly weird Crazy Fucking Dreams album, this song performs especially badly with people who aren’t in Bangers. I think it rips, but Spotify figures confirm a proper dip compared to the rest of this album. I just don’t know what’s wrong with people sometimes! Bad Jokes Someone in Austria told me to my face that this song was too boring, and we pretty much stopped playing it after that. I think it has a janky song structure, and the nearest thing to a chorus it has (none of the songs on Crazy Fucking Dreams really have a chorus) isn’t that catchy, but I think the song is OK. I can confirm that nobody ever shouted for us to play it live. The Nick of Time OK, here’s a proper deep-cut. It’s the first B-side from the Blind Hindsight single, and I couldn’t remember anything about it before listening today. I remember we cut it from Crazy Fucking Dreams because it didn’t sit well with the other songs, but on reflection it really carried the core message that I was trying to get across in that album. Namely that history forgets just about everybody, so why should we feel obligated to be interested in anything that’s mainstream enough to be remembered. I suspect that the lyrics are not that relatable, but they’re a good diary entry for me to remember the first person I ever watched die. Log Jam Second B-side. I believe we only ever had two B-sides. We recorded this in our practise room in Exeter, and I seem to remember we tracked it back to front with the piano first and drums last. Maybe Hamish was at work until late or something. This is the song to drag out if anyone tries to tell you Bangers were just a gruff punk band who sounded like The Menzingers. I think there’s a weird time signature change, and that’s probably not because we were trying to be clever if you know what I mean. A man like Jack McCall This is named after the guy who shot Wild Bill in Deadwood. I loved that show, but at the time I knew I was much more a drunken cowardly shit-heel than any of the heroic (or at least stoic) characters. It was on the Good Livin’ EP which I find mostly unlistenable because of some very sketchy guitar playing. This was the weird plodder at the end which we probably played live a handful of times and then realised that nobody really wanted to hear it and it wasn’t that fun to play. Every night’s a date night On the subject on not being fun to play, this song was always a pain. Something about the timing at the start just baffled Hamish, so we ditched playing it as soon as we had enough songs. However in my mind this is one of THE archetypal Bangers songs, it’s got that lolloping, on-the-push rhythm, not a normal power chord in sight, and three quite distinct sections without anything approaching a chorus. Small Pleasures is definitely our most listened to album on Spotify, but where some of those songs really defined how Bangers were perceived, this never really landed. The Love Nest I straight up laughed out loud today when I saw we’d called a song The Love Nest. I couldn’t remember anything about it until I listened to it today for the first time in years. We played this a lot when we were relevant to the DIY scene in about 2011, and I think people used to sing along. It’s included here because I fully forgot it existed. There was a positive vibe (when no one was left alive) + Walking on the ground These two songs make up the Last Songs EP (single?) that we just about managed to release in time for our last ever show. I think we’d decided to split up by the time we recorded them, but I wouldn’t put money on it. I don’t know if we ever played Positive Vibe live, which is a shame because both songs are great. I think the album that these songs were meant to become would have nailed a good mix of dirty pop that we were aiming at in that moment. We probably would have messed it up though. Outro After I put this playlist together I went and listened to Challenger – Give people what they want in lethal doses as a pallet cleanser. I heartily recommend you do the same. Go and support Andrew and Kay’s new doughnut shop Future Doughnuts in Bristol, and visit Hamish in Cambridge. I’m doing fine. Roo

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doctorlaelia-ffxiv · 3 years

Text

never let you go - part 2.

[[ read part one >here!< @benes-diction for mentions of the Beanies! ]]

I allowed Cato Lucretius to start officially courting me come spring in Garlemald... which doesn’t mean much, and does little to make dents in the snow, but it still felt warmer, somehow. His presence was warm. At times, he was like the soft glow of a candle in a dark room, providing a sense of safety and comfort. Other times, he glowed so brightly that I thought that he might be a supernova, too big for this world altogether.

To say that I was in love with him would be a difficult thing. I was very fond of him, for a while. We got along tremendously well, and he was good at making me laugh. Our honeymoon period was sweet, and friends sighed over what a lovely pair we were, and I agreed with them. Cato Lucretius was a perfectly amiable, enjoyable sort of man to be around, who gave excellent kisses and was an attentive sort of lover, who could provide conversation that stimulated the mind and be a quiet place to rest, too.

At least, at first. All that glitters is not gold. Sometimes it’s just a very pretty plating put over something rusty.

In the summer, Cato Lucretius invited me to move into his apartment on the outskirts of the university we both attended. He was a literature major with a schedule that was far less packed than mine, considering I was still taking classes while conducting my residency at the hospital to enter into neurosurgery . But it worked, I suppose. He was something of a “house boyfriend,” you could call it. He made meals and kept our shared space clean, ran hot baths when I had a long day at work, would call me on the nights I couldn’t return. And he made a point of bringing me on dates, where we were able to make time for it, to expensive restaurants and pretty museums and lush greenhouses and towering libraries.

Being old money from Garlemald came with a bit of status that Cato Lucretius frequently enjoyed. He liked the balls and the parties, and he enjoyed the luxuries of the finest foods and wines, and he liked to talk, very much, about the plights of our countrymen in a senseless war for a government that only wanted dominion rather than peace... and his words were pretty. They were nice to listen to. He could be fantastically passionate about things, he could grab a whole room’s attention with his vivacity and silver tongue, and I enjoyed listening to him on those summer evenings where the world felt like it belonged to us.

For the first time in a long time, I was happy. I was twenty and finishing the last leg of my residency - the youngest in generations in Garlemald to achieve such a high position so quickly. It was an honor. It was a feat, of countless sleepless nights and many frustrated tears and many, many joyous victories. And Cato Lucretius would stay up with me, during the time we were together, to celebrate or to mourn, respectively. And then things just... started to feel like they were shifting. I remember it starting to feel different in the autumn.

The warmth was starting to fade, like it was chasing the seasons.

“You’re brilliant,” Cato Lucretius would tell me as he smiled, as he brushed my hair from my forehead as I nursed a glass of something strong on a rare day off. “You’re the smartest person on this star, Laelia.”

He said it so frequently. At first, I thought it was sweet. I liked being acknowledged for my accomplishments more than my looks. It didn’t feel like he looked at me like a piece of meat. To him, I was his equal - more than his equal. And that, maybe, was the problem. Cato Lucretius was putting me on a pedestal I didn’t try to get onto, and slowly... Slowly, but surely, it started to tarnish the way that he looked at me.

“You never have time for me.”

That was how it started. It caught me off guard, as we stood in the kitchen and made dinner together. He was leaning against the counter and staring at the floor as he sipped from his whiskey glass, one hand braced behind him with the sleeves of his red sweater pushed up.

“I always try to make time for you,” I had told him, and I had frowned, because I was confused. I was... I am a person that grew up quickly. There were intricacies in people’s words and meanings that I wasn’t able to pick up on at the age of twenty, when my whole life had been dedicated to how brain functions but not, exactly, the emotions that run through them, too.

“But it never works out, does it?” Cato Lucretius shot back, looking at me with pained and angry eyes. “When’s the last time we got to go out? You said you would come with me to my colleague’s party the other night. And you forgot, didn’t you?”

Accusation after accusation as I stood there with a ladle in my hand and my lips parted, because yes. Yes, I had forgotten. But I hadn’t meant to. The day he was referencing was nonstop. I hadn’t even been able to come back to the apartment between surgeries. Older, wiser me would have been able to do something, to put this man in his place. Twenty year old Laelia just wasn’t sure what was happening or what she had done to make him so angry.

“Yes,” she had said, and that’s what it feels like, as I think about this turning point of a night now - like I’m watching in third person. “Yes, I forgot, but... but I told you that I wasn’t able to leave, Cato. I’m very sorry, I didn’t realize that it was so important to you, but--”

“I’m making a big deal out of it, aren’t I?” And just as quickly as he had been angry, he was smiling at me, and I felt... unsettled, in a word. “I’m sorry, Laelia. Forgive me. I suppose I must have had a bad day today.”

Whiplash. That was the day it started - or, at least, the day I began to notice it starting. Cato Lucretius was changing in how he spoke to me, in how he looked at me, and so was the regard he held me in. What was once my ‘brilliance’ was my ‘cockiness,’ and what was my dedication to my work was a force driving us apart, no matter how hard I tried to yield to his requests.

And all the while, this man was starting to fail his classes. Professors were sending back essays with bundles of criticism. He was slipping up, and the golden boy with the flawless smile that I met at the ball in the winter was now beginning to lose his gentleness and his geniality, unless he was drinking. And when he drank, all the venom he felt for me would come spewing out.

“You think you’re so smart,” he would sneer as he slouched in his chair by the fire. “You made a big splash, and now you think you’re too good for anyone, don’t you? What’s going on that has you out at all hours? Are you having an affair?”

“That’s enough,” I had snapped, slamming my glass down on the counter. He raised his voice at me, and I raised mine. Our fights became infamous in the apartment building. I had never been the type to shout. That wasn’t the way to get a point across, but no one infuriated - and hurt me - like Cato Lucretius did. He made my ice turn to fire, my quiet and composed way of dealing with things seem unhinged and furious.

And it was becoming clearer and clearer that any support he had for the Populares was... surface level. Certainly, he was prepared to speak out against the oppressive government, but... I have to wonder if that’s because it was the popular opinion amongst our circle. He clung to his status and the wealth of his parents in a desperate sort of way. I often wonder how much of anything he spoke passionately about that he really meant, and how much of it was manipulation to make him look good. I fear that the answer would be troubling and disheartening both.

A warm, sunlit garden that we had planted in the spring was starting to die come the fall. Our honeymoon period was over, and I didn’t know what to do.

Many times, Cato Lucretius would coerce me into bed, to have sex that was angry and rough, that screamed that we hated each other in those moments. I never really said ‘yes.’ I just gave in to his nagging, to make him be quiet, to stop accusing me of affairs that didn’t exist.

“If you loved me...”

He loved that one. ‘If you loved me, you’ll sleep with me. If you loved me, you’d make more time. If you loved me, you would stop asking me where I go late at night.’ ‘If I have to trust you, don’t you have to trust me?’

The difference is that I never came home smelling of someone else’s perfume or cologne like he did, or with a wine that he didn’t drink still clinging to my lips.

Giving up Cato Lucretius was difficult. He was nowhere near as creatively gifted as he wanted to be, and if I’m being honest with myself, I have to wonder if the vague similarities he shared with my Cato are what made me stay. They wrote, and they were both like light - even if Cato Lucretius’ light was rapidly fading - and they both, at one time, made me feel safe.

I remember curling up on the bathroom floor and simply sobbing into my arms, overcome with a grief that was too unbearable to speak aloud. More often than not, I would say Cato Lucretius’ name and think of Cato Benes - of the soldier boy who had paid the ultimate price, of the one in all of my dreams, who dried my tears when I slept and told me everything would be alright.

Often, as things got more difficult in my relationship, I dreamt of that farewell ball for Cato rem Benes. I dreamt it over and over again - arriving late and anonymous in a beautiful gown, and making him laugh, all with the knowledge of what was to come that I was forbidden to speak. And the dreams ended the same - me, forcing myself to leave Cato rem Benes alone on a balcony before collapsing in the gardens and being overcome with grief.

Those are the dreams I would wake from in tears, sometimes screaming my anguish, begging to please just bring me back to that night, so that I could tell him not to go, to plead and block him from his departure if I had to--

And it was easy to lie to Cato Lucretius about when I screamed the name ‘Cato,’ because I could tell him I was having nightmares of something terrible happening to him. But maybe part of him knew. Maybe a part of him had always known that my heart was never fully with him.

I still don’t think, though, that I deserved his cruelty for it. I was young, and inexperienced in so many things, and mourning the loss of someone who had so deeply impacted me as a young girl. Even seeing Cato rem Benes’ parents were difficult. Seeing Lucius in a hospital, or sitting and listening to one of Theodosia’s performances... I always kept up with them - quietly, and in the shadows, but I tried to. My heart broke to hear the stories of what Caius was becoming. I wept bitterly when Solina left, knowing how deeply the family hurt when their children hurt, knowing just how the loss of Cato rem Benes had affected him.

And there was a part of me that felt like it knew more, too, like... I could sense something in the future. Of course, I was a woman of science. Looking back, yes - in a strange way, and thanks to kami meddling, I did know. I knew the painful endings and the happy endings both, but to not be able to explain those feelings was often agonizing. And the more my relationship with Cato Lucretius began to fraction, the more I felt it.

The more I felt that something just hadn’t ended right, that a book that was meant to be closed had simply been paused.

The day I found his love letters from another woman beneath our bed and his collar stained with a coral lipstick that I wouldn’t wear came almost as a relief. Of course, it broke my heart. Spring had come around again, with a surprising melt in the snow. We had spent a year around each other, committed to each other - or, at least, one of us had been committed to the other. When I asked how long, just how long had he been betraying my trust, he was vague. When I asked how many times, he had simply shrugged, staring into the fire.

“How many hours were you too busy being brilliant to give me?”

“You’re casting yourself as dependent and lonely to get out of being accountable for being a dickhead,” I had told him, tossing the letters that he’d so obviously read over and over directly into the fire. “For being the worst of men.”

“We could try to fix this, Laelia,” he had said, running his hands over his face before standing up to face me, to try to reach out to me. “I messed up, darling. I messed up so badly, but if you give me another chance--”

“Haven’t you heard, Lucretius?” I asked him, smiling. “Goodness, I thought you would have, but... I simply just don’t have the time to give you that. I have very brilliant and much more important things to be doing than wasting my godsdamned time on this - you manipulative, lying, tiny pricked bastard.”

When I slammed that apartment door with a box of my things in my arms with that man crying like an infant, it was liberating. I was free of his cruelty and his coercion. I suppose I could thank him, though, for the beginnings of the spine that I became so famous for.

For the spine that Cato rem Benes will always love me for having. And Cato rem Benes is, was, and always will truly be spring - the true herald of new beginnings, of promises that the long winters would end into a blossoming, glowing new world.

#ffxiv rp #ff14 rp #writing #tw relationship abuse #sort of #?

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kuiperblog · 3 years

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Feel-good “bad ends”

Movie protagonists are often breaking the rules. This is true even when our protagonists are on the right side of the law: after all, nobody’s perfect. (And if they were, we probably wouldn’t like them as much: after all, it’s hard for a character to have a “growth arc” if they start from a place of perfection. And making occasional mistakes reminds us that, just like us, they’re only human: they’re more relatable.)

But when our protagonists break the rules, it often leads toward one of two different endings: either they get caught and punished for their transgressions (which can make for a feelbad ending), or they get away with it scot-free. Most movies opt for the latter, but it can often feel unsatisfying, because there’s a real sense in which we want to see our protagonists reap the consequences of their actions.

Usually, it’s not a problem for them to suffer the consequences if their transgression is minor. For example, if the main character says something mean to his love interest, he can get a slap in the face -- and having paid for his transgressions, he can then immediately be rewarded with whatever feel-good conclusion the audience is in the mood for.

However, sometimes the protagonist’s transgressions are more dire, and demand more dire consequences. Recently, I’ve found two movies that manage to end with something that is, in an objective sense, a very bad outcome for the main characters, and exactly in proportion to what they deserve for their significant transgressions during the film, yet still allows for a “feel-good” ending. Naming those examples would by itself probably be a spoiler, so...spoilers for an Edgar Wright movie and a Pixar movie (and a Rocky movie) below the fold.

Heist movies are the classic example of a movie formula where the protagonists break a ton of rules and, in the case of a feelgood ending, basically can’t suffer any consequences. Either they get caught and it’s a moral aesop about how crime doesn’t pay, or they get away with it and we’re happy that our characters, who are really quite morally virtuous apart from their tendency to commit acts of robbery, are able to enjoy the spoils they’ve absconded with.

Baby Driver is a movie that I think strikes the perfect balance. In the end, our main character Baby doesn’t get away with his crimes. He’s committed a lot of crimes, and been involved in a lot of robberies. And not the non-violent kind, either!

At the same time, Baby was always “one of the good ones.” He was never the guy who held the gun; he was always the one behind the wheel. In fact, for basically his entire criminal career, he was blackmailed into it. Of course, the lazy method would be for the judge to have pity on him -- he was forced to commit crimes! But that would be ignoring the fact that the entire reason he got blackmailed in the first place is that he happened to steal a car from a criminal kingpin -- Baby was boosting cars well before a villain put a gun to his head and forced him to do it.

But as we see Baby marched to his prison cell, it’s intercut with testimony during his trial. Everything that we could have said in Baby’s defense is articulated by witnesses speaking in his defense:

“He got himself into a bad spot. I was just trying to get him out. I believe the defendant is of good character. He didn't deserve what happened to him.”

“It was the strangest thing. Before he drove off, he threw my purse right at me. Then he actually said ‘I'm sorry.’” (A delightful callback to a comedic moment earlier in the movie: Baby might resort to carjacking when he’s in a pinch, but he is the most polite carjacker you will ever meet. He doesn’t need your valuables; he just needs a getaway vehicle.)

“He made a mistake when he was younger, and it's haunted him ever since. When he tried to get out, he was pressured even harder. It was never his fault. He's got a good heart. Always has. Always will.”

Maybe it’s the fact that Sky Ferreira’s cover of Lionel Richie’s “Easy Like Sunday Morning” is the musical bed for this scene, but there’s something about the scene that feels incredibly cathartic. Baby Driver might be our protagonist, but he’s not innocent in all of this. His actions have consequences, and he gets sentenced to prison time for them.

At the same time, we’re left with the distinct impression that he has a life waiting for him on the outside. At the very least, Deborah is there waiting for him.

We can rest assured that Baby has no desire to return to a life of crime -- he and Deborah will be content with a modest life together. Indeed, a “modest life” is never something that either of them would need to settle for. Having a quiet simple life has been their aspiration for as long as they’ve known each other. Baby ends the movie knowing that he has years of prison time ahead of him, but also knowing that he’s on the start of a path to redemption. It’s enough to put a skip in his step as he walks across the prison yard. (Well, maybe not a literal skip in his step, but at the very least, it’s written on his face: he feels good about the path he’s on.)

Baby Driver came out in 2017, but I’ve already lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. I think the ending is a big part of what keeps me coming back to it. I love this ending -- there’s really nothing like the catharsis of seeing Baby held to account for his actions, while also having his virtues acknowledged. Those virtues might not be enough for him to avoid punishment, but in a way, his virtue its its own reward. It’s a heist movie that ends with the main character getting caught and spending years behind bars, and yet it’s an incredibly feelgood ending that just leaves you satisfied for all the right reasons. (After all, we’ve seen the fate of Baby’s confederates: we know that he could have encountered fates much worse than prison.) There’s really nothing like it.

Well, almost nothing. Last night I finally got around to watching Monsters University.

It’s a fun movie -- the central plot is the classic “underdog sports story.” Mike Wazowski has no talent for scaring -- according to the bigshot jock voiced by Nathan Fillion, the only way someone like Mike could end up working at a place like Monsters Inc is in the mailroom. Of course, because this is a prequel, we know that Mike’s story ends with him and Sulley being best buds together working at the Monsters Inc scream factory, so the odds can’t be that stacked against them, right? After all, the stakes are too high for them to fail: besides the fact that they need to be ready for the events of Monsters Inc, Mike is able to parley for a chance to get into the university’s scare program only because he makes an agreement with the Dean that if he fails, he’ll leave the school. With stakes that high, it seems only inevitable that Mike and Sulley will fulfill the classic underdog trope and lead a team of lovable losers to victory through sheer force of will (and the power of friendship).

Except, as we find out, force of will and the power of friendship aren’t enough to win you the big game when the thing you’re being tested on is talent and athleticism. Mike gets to experience the triumph of victory...but quickly learns that it only happened because Sulley cheated.

Mike and Sulley both bit off more than they could chew, and made a number of poor choices along the way. Sulley, unable to accept loss, cheated to achieve victory. Mike, unable to cope with experiencing loss, breaks into the university’s door department to mope around in the human world -- which is strictly verboten and extremely dangerous.

But...in the course of solving the problem that they’ve created themselves (combining their efforts to escape the human world by using scare techniques the likes of which have never been seen before), we learn that Mike and Sulley do have what it takes. The Dean recognizes it, too. It almost feels like she’s about to offer them leniency. After all, this is a prequel movie: we know that all of this has to end with Mike and Sulley working at Monsters Inc in the scare department, right? That means the Dean has to let them back into the university’s scare program! Surely their acts of daring and bravery show they have what it takes to make it in the Monsters University scare program!

And so it comes as no surprise when, at the end of the third act, the Dean comes out just as they’re about to depart. We see what looks like a smile on her face for the first time in the movie.

Except, of course, it would be crazy if they got off scot-free. Mike broke into the human world, which is about the worst possible thing a monster can do. And if the cheating scandal weren’t enough to sink Sulley, there’s also the fact that he followed Mike into the human world (his intentions were noble as he wanted to save his friend, but still extremely dangerous and just as verboten).

The Dean has nothing but kind things to say to them. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to rescue them from the consequences of their actions.

The two get no leniency. We feel an odd mixture of elation and defeat. On one hand, they got the validation that they craved: the Dean, who thought it was impossible for Mike Wazowski to ever be a scarer, now admits that she may have misjudged him. On the other hand, their lives are ruined. They must now reap what they have sown. What will become of their dreams now? And maybe more importantly, how the heck are we supposed to get from here to the events of the original movie that takes place several years later in the Monsters Inc chronology?

And then, Mike remembers something.

“You know, there is still one way we can work at a scare company. They’re always hiring in the mail room.”

Mike and Sulley start at the absolute bottom rung of the corporate ladder. But there are worse fates than doing blue collar work. After all, the entire theme of the underdog sports story that got us to this point was to show that Mike (and, with Mike’s encouragement, also Sulley) are the kind of monsters who will do whatever it takes to achieve their dreams, simply willing it to happen through sheer enthusiasm and force of will and, of course, the power of friendship. After all, anything can be fun when you’re doing it with your friends. As Sulley says, “This is better than I ever imagined!” They approach the job with an enthusiasm that tells us that they’re on their way up within this company.

The rest of their journey is shown to us in montage:

They’ve got that ambition, baby. This week they’re mopping floors, next week it’s the fries:

Of course, it’s only a matter of time before the company holds “try-outs” for the scare team, and from there, the rest is history. Plus, if the original movie is fresh enough in your mind, you’ll appreciate the easter egg references to the girlfriend that Mike met during this time (and the constant beratement he constantly got over needing to file his paperwork):

Over the course of the movie, they made some good decisions -- mostly the ones relating to the power of friendship and hard work. They also made some bad decisions -- mostly relating to playing fast-and-loose with the rules of their institution. Their college careers come to an unceremonious end.

And yet, even though the movie ends with them getting kicked out of college and spending “the best years of their lives” working blue collar jobs, it feels like an undeniably happy ending for the two of them. They reap exactly what they sow -- for worse, and for better. They don’t get to hide from the consequences of their actions...but that doesn’t mean things have to end on a dour note.

There’s something I really dig about that. It feels exactly like the first Rocky movie: Rocky is an athlete who trained and tried and fought as hard as he could -- and still lost. And yet, though he lost the big boxing match, there’s dignity in his loss. And in the end, he succeeded at the thing that really mattered.

In all three of these movies, it feels as though we as the audience are being set up for a specific happy ending. Of course Baby Driver has to end with the getaway driver getting away. Of course Monsters University has to end with Mike and Sulley graduating from the scare program. Of course Rocky has to end with our main character winning the big climactic boxing match. But in the end, we don’t get these “obvious” endings, because getting them wouldn’t really be a reflection of everything that led up to that point. And yet, we don’t walk away disappointed, because we somehow get something better. These characters may not get the “obvious” reward, the thing that they thought they wanted (and the thing that we, as the audience, thought that we wanted). But they get the things that really matter.

#movies #edgar wright #pixar

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imaginesnkdorks · 4 years

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Our Dream [Armin x Reader]

Pairing: Armin Arlert/Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: Armin has always been motivated by his dream to see the Ocean - to see the world beyond the walls. Clearly, meeting someone with the same goal; the same dream is one of the best feelings in the world. Armin is truly thankful to have that.

After the fall of Shiganshina – of the whole wall Maria at that – Eren decided to enlist. It’s something anyone would expect of Eren, anyway. Besides, it’s something he has always wanted. Armin, on the other hand, surprised both Eren and Mikasa when he declared he was going to enlist as well. After all, he’s tired of his friends fighting his fights for him. He wants to be able to finally do something. And maybe someday achieve his dream of seeing the ocean.

His plans are already set, and Armin is nothing but focused in fulfilling them, so why was he letting himself get sidetracked and distracted? He can’t help but pay his undivided attention to Y/N. He can’t even explain it, but Y/N just stood out to him. She’s soft-spoken but headstrong, smart but not overly serious, and is absolutely beautiful.

“You’re staring again.” Eren said for what is probably the fourth time that day. The contrast between Armin’s blonde hair and his red face is outstanding. “I’m not.” He murmured. He knows it’s in vain, yet he still felt compelled to lie. “I think you should talk to her.” Mikasa told him in between bites.

“I don’t even know what to say to her.” And that is where Armin’s dilemma lies. Among the three of them, he’s probably the most likable, but his meek nature doesn’t really push him into initiating conversations – let alone try to flirt with someone.

“Just tell her you like her. What was it you said the other day? She’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen?” Eren teased, a very naughty smile on his face. “Wha - ! Eren! I didn’t say anything like that.” Frankly, Armin isn’t really sure. He might have said something like that… it sounds like something he’d say, after all.

“Eren’s right. Just be honest. Y/N likes you too, you know.” Mikasa told him before she focused back on her soup. She seems so indifferent, but her words seemed to shift Armin’s world. “She likes me, too?” He feels like he could jump for joy at the news. Seriously run through the streets and yell in celebration. Still, doubt clouded his mind.

“How would you know that, Mikasa?”

“Because, Armin, Y/N is as obvious as you are.” Really, Mikasa seemed scandalized at that – as if Armin should have known this all along! And to think Mikasa of all people would notice something like that.

Armin felt ice course through his veins, not out of fear or disappointment but due to sudden and uncontainable excitement. His heart seems to be jumping around his chest. Now, what to do with that information? Should he listen to Eren and just walk up to Y/N and tell her how he feels?

That thought stayed with Armin for the next days, and he obviously seem distracted during training that even Ymir who couldn’t possibly give a damn about him noticed.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Sasha asked, pointing towards Armin’s untouched bread. Well, she asked but she didn’t wait for an answer. It was already half inside her mouth before Armin got to react at all.

“Hey!” Armin whined – fully aware that it’s too late to save his bread.

“That’s what you get for daydreaming about Y/N instead of eating.” Ymir commented, her ever smug grin present on her face. It was like a needle dropped in the whole mess hall, because of course Ymir is just that loud! And against his will, Armin looked at Y/N’s direction – finding her blushing and looking straight back at him. In a rare surge of boldness Armin spoke, “Ymir, don’t go exposing my secrets now.”

Cringe. Armin can almost feel everyone cringe at that. He regrets it the moment those words left his mouth. To make matters worse, Connie led everyone in laughing at him. Armin did the honorable thing to do – he ran outside.

Before he can fully marinade in his tears and drown himself in his embarrassment, Armin heard footsteps approach him. Assuming it’s either Mikasa or Eren, he reassured them right away. “I’m okay.” The voice that answered him took him by surprise.

“Good to know. Also, I saw Sasha take your food. I bet you’re still hungry so here.”

“Y/N?” You’d think a million different thoughts would rush around in his head at that moment, but there was actually nothing. His mind was completely blank, especially when he felt Y/N’s warmth as she took a seat beside him. Y/N is starting to double think her approaching Armin since he’s just looking at her.

“Uhmm…” Y/N tried to hand her bread to Armin once more, the action finally taking Armin out of the trance he seemed to be in. “Thank you.” Silence took over them once more. What was he supposed to do or say now? Armin wished he read something about this… talking to girls. He talks to Mikasa all the time, so why is he having such a hard time?

“Y/N, about what Ymir said…” Armin’s at a lost. Was he supposed to brush it aside and lie to her about his feelings? Is he supposed to confess now?

“I’m sorry Ymir put you on the spot like that. That wasn’t very nice of her.” Armin can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, but I’m used to it. Ymir and I don’t really get along.”

“I think Krista is the only one she likes!” Y/N commented with surprising cheerfulness. The two of them ended up talking about their fellow trainees that night, Armin totally stopping from overthinking and actually getting comfortable with Y/N.

----

“No! I can imagine Eren doing that, but Mikasa?” Y/N said, plucking another flower from the little cluster they’re sitting by. “Yes, well Mikasa can get pretty violent when it comes to protecting us – especially Eren.”

“I think I understand. You two are her precious friends after all. Here.” Y/N then handed a flower crown that she’s been making to Armin. “Wow, this is beautiful.” Armin said, proudly wearing Y/N’s gift. “It is. Looks like Persephone blessed us really well this spring.” “Persephone?” At Armin’s question Y/N tensed up. “Ah, nothing! We’d better go to the dining hall before Sasha inhale every bread in the room!” Y/N went on to do just that, leaving Armin behind.

Armin found it odd, but not really unusual. Y/N seems to be having a hard time totally opening up to him. It’s like there’s something she wants to tell him but would change her mind at the last minute. A clear example was their interaction earlier. Armin made it his goal to make Y/N comfortable around him.

---

Out of breath, Armin stood just outside the little cottage he and his team would be staying at during this exercise. Reiner helped him out again but he still feels as though he carried the world on his shoulders. “Armin! There you are. Here, I bet you’re thirsty.” Before, Armin would have been embarrassed at the thought of Y/N seeing him breathless and sweaty. Now he’s just happy to see her.

“Thank you!” He said, taking the offered canister. “You’re welcome. The instructor said we’re free for the rest of the night, by the way.” After finally catching his breath, Armin decided to take a chance. “Do you want to take a walk? With me?” Surprisingly, Armin wasn’t nervous. It’s not that he’s so confident Y/N would say yes. But there’s a lower chance of her turning him down, as proven by the eager nod that she gave him.

Honestly, the terrain was horrible, the view was ugly and the weather was humid but the two of them don’t seem to mind it one bit. They talked about the most mundane things – their breakfast that morning, Bertholdt’s weird sleeping positions, Sasha’s fascination with the mushrooms they saw earlier and Jean’s horse-like face – and yet it’s like it’s the most important thing in the world. Armin hang onto her ever word and she seemed to be doing the same to her.

“Eek!”

Armin’s reflexes worked so fast he didn’t have time to think. One moment Y/N was about to fall down due to tripping on an exposed tree root, the next she was in Armin’s arms. “Are you okay?” He asked, face the closest they’ve ever been to her. “Yes.” They stayed like that… close. Close enough to feel each other’s breath on their skin; to count each other’s eyelashes.

“I really like you, Y/N!” It just felt like the perfect moment to lay his feelings bare. Armin didn’t have time to doubt himself as Y/N’s reply came right away. “I like you, too.” Mikasa was right, after all.

---

To say they were a hundred percent comfortable with each other isn’t exactly factual. I mean, of course they are comfortable to some extent, but being intimate is just something they aren’t tackling very well. Armin would love to hold Y/N hand as they walk around the training academy, but he’d wonder if he’s being too forward or improper. The teasing from the rest of the guys isn’t helping either.

What’s more is that there is still that lingering hesitation from Y/N – it’s like she has a secret she so wanted to share with him but just can’t find the courage to do so. In fear of judgement, perhaps.

Most of the 104th class are doing their laundry, and Y/N and Armin are doing theirs together in silent companionship when Jean, Connie and Sasha decided to break the mundane atmosphere by hitting each other with their laundry – getting even those innocently doing their chores wet.

“Hey!”

“Blugh!” Armin exclaimed as he was hit straight on the face. It didn’t damper anyone’s spirits though, as they went on and more joined in. Armin and Y/N actually ended up teaming up on Connie. Soon enough, everyone at the riverbank are soaking wet and red from all the hitting that they were doing – the clothes they were washing definitely not getting any cleaner.

It took Keith Shadis himself to stop the trainees’ shenanigans and for them to calm down.

“That was fun.” Y/N said as she tried to fix her hair that’s been sticking to her face. “Oh! Your eyes are so red.”

Armin could definitely feel a slight stinging sensation. “I think the water irritated my eyes. Heh, I guess I’m lucky this isn’t the ocean, because then – ah!” The ocean. Armin is aware that knowledge of this is dangerous – deadly! It’s not that he doesn’t trust Y/N, but he needs to be careful.

Y/N then looked around, as if trying to make sure no one is close enough to hear them. “That would have been painful. It is salty water after all.” She said, followed by a deep sigh. “How did you… uhm, you know of the ocean?” She said in a whisper.

Now, this might be extremely stupid and generous but Armin can’t help but feel like this is the final hurdle they have to get over. “Books.” He answered simply. Y/N then grabbed Armin’s hand – leaving their laundry behind – and went to the dorms. Making sure the rooms she shares with the other trainees is empty, Y/N pulled Armin inside. “I have something to show you and I think you know that it’s between just us two.”

They soon find themselves standing at the bunk bed assigned to Y/N, facing the small nightstand with at least a dozen books. Honestly, nothing really stands out to Armin. Nothing looks like the books his family owned – those about the outside world. “These are history books? Those you can find anywhere.”

“Well yes, but no.” Y/N said before grabbing one in the middle entitled Fritz: The Royal Family. It’s probably the most famous book within the walls – only because it was required to be read by everyone. Y/N pulling that one out served only to confuse Armin. “They say the best place to hide a leaf in is in a forest, so…” Y/N then opened the book, showing Armin that the pages inside are nothing about the Fritz family. “I replaced the cover.”

“The ocean! I know this. It’s talking about how the world has more water than land – there’s also things about the tundra and deserts!” The two of them began talking about the things they haven’t seen but read about. Armin found out that Y/N is fascinated with mythology. He’s surprised to find out that there is a god for everything!

They mostly lingered on the book called World Atlas. It’s full of nothing but colorful maps and of places they couldn’t even pronounce. “Maybe, beyond the walls, these places are still out there. I’m mostly interested about seeing this rain forest.” Y/N said. It was at that moment when realization hit Armin that they truly are perfect for each other. “Of course, before getting there we’d have to cross the ocean. I wonder if it’s truly as beautiful as it is in these drawings. That’s my dream.”

Before he can stop himself, Armin leaned over and captured her lips in a sweet peck. “What?” Surprise was etched in Y/N’s face, but Armin won’t miss the cute flush of her cheeks. “That just felt… right. Don’t you think so?” Armin said, flashing a confident smile. “Let’s try that again.”

#snk armin #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #reader insert #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #Eren Jaeger #Eren Yaeger #Mikasa Ackerman #104th trainee corps #connie springer #Jean Kirschtein #jean kirstein #sasha braus #Ymir #attack on titan ymir #crista lenz #mod max

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hubbie22 · 4 years

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tears ricochet part two

A/N: If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks for reading.

“Well, where is she going to stay? I have more than enough room.” Freddie starts to talk about the late night wine fests, the sleepovers, and parties.

“What about one week with you, one week with Deaky and Veronica, and one week with us?” Brian says trying to come up with a compromise.

“We sound like divorced parents passing around our child.”

“Well, she can’t stay alone!” Brian seems frazzled as he always does. “Chrissie is adamant on that.”

“I think we all are, at least the six of us.” Deaky’s words cut Roger, cause he knows he’s excluded from this conversation.

“Where will you go?” It’s a legitimate question.

“You don’t have to worry about me, not anymore.” She says, as she holds Felix in her arms. He’s a happy baby, and he seems to like anything that gives him attention. And Liv hands it out to him in spades. This was the compromise, he did what she asked. He didn’t come alone, he came with Felix in tow. While that certainly wasn’t alone, it wasn’t what she meant. She wondered if Roger’s girlfriend knows he brought their son to see his ex. And if she knew, did she care? Or maybe she pitied Liv, that seemed to be the prevailing emotion she always recieved.

“Shouldn’t smoke with him in the room, Rog.” Liv scolds him, “And you shouldn’t worry about me.”

“Always worry ‘bout you.” He says as he takes a drag of his cigarette. It was preconditioned into the very fiber of his being to worry about her. Even if he tried to push it away, it always came flooding back.

Somehow Liv ended up with Freddie at Garden Lodge, at least until she was on her feet again. Or that was the promise they made to her.

“It’s like one big slumber party!” Freddie says pulling out silk robes from the Chanel bags. Freddie hands her a rose gold colored one, and he puts on a blood red one. The rose gold fabric pools around her feet, its luxurious.

“Freddie this is beautiful.” She says feeling the silk against her skin.

He looks at her with a playful light in his eyes, “All ways the best for us, dear.” It felt odd to be included in the word us, again. The last time she had been part of an us, was when the other part of it was Roger. She pushes him out of her head, he can’t occupy that space anymore. Just like he can’t occupy the other part of us in her life anymore.

“Manicure and pedicures this way!” Freddie says, he must sense her sadness. Because he tops her off with more wine, as she sinks her feet into the small tub of water.

They are in the middle of getting facials, being pampered for the tenth night in a row, “This really is a never ending slumber party.”

“What a great song idea!” He darts off with a blood red silk robe, leaving her alone with a multitude of cats. She picks up the orange tabby, who nestles into her embrace. She brings him up the stairs to the bedroom, and she can hear the pitter patter of little paws following her. She lays on the California king, looking up at the great white canopy above her. She can hear him singing from the other side of the house. It reminded her of the old times.when they were a penniless band, and not a household name.

“Like this!” Brian says as Roger bites back. “That’s not it! It’s slow!” They had been at the studio for the better part of 96 hours. Liv watched them, she hadn’t been spotted yet.

“I don’t like it!” Freddie says with a biting ferocity. “It’s so blasé!” They couldn’t achieve the correct sound for the song, and it was driving them mad. Which of course, lack of sleep didn’t aid in driving them mad either. But, she wouldn’t tell them that.

“I’m playing it how I always play it, Fred!” Brian seems to be cracking under the pressure, which is typical. She rolls her eyes, as she snaps a candid photo of Brian’s reaction.

“What do you think, Liv?” Deaky asks her.

She turns her head ready to answer, letting her camera fall against her chest as it was secured by a strap, only for Roger to answer for her. “Livie listens to only sad songs!” He goes on, “ She thinks the whole of it should be slow. For god sakes, she listens to sad American country music on repeat. If I hear that damn twang of “Your Cheatin Heart” one more time!”

“How dare you disrespect the late and great, Hank Williams, Rog.” She looks at him, “That man was a legend in a cowboy hat!”

Roger rolls his eyes, “All he does is stand there and sing sad country songs about his lost love in his country twang.”

“It’s called talent.”

“I know, I have it.” Roger says with a smirk on his face.

“What’s wrong with American country? What’s wrong with the sad songs they sing? I find it quite lovely, very telling of the human experience.” Brian asks, but he’s ignored.

She snorts, “Also, didn’t know your name was Liv, now?”

“ ‘S how I see it, just telling it how I see it.”

Hank Williams voice blares through the house, “Your Cheatin Heart” reverberates off the walls of Garden Lodge. Even those five years she spent comatose, did nothing to diminish her love for the American country star. Deaky chuckles at the thought, as she closes the front door.

“Liv?” Deaky shouts when the song dies down, and she yells from wherever she is. He walks to where the sound of voice came from. She’s dancing, her bare feet agaisnt the marble floor, to a sad country song. It’s a new one, George Jones if he’s not mistaken. A small smile is on his lips, as he noticed that Liv hasn’t changed. If anything it’s like she’s been frozen in time. She’s twirling around to the sounds of “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” in her white eyelet sundress. She hasn’t changed, it was like she was frozen in time. He had seen this scene at Liv and Rog’s flat and the Surrey Mansion. But the scenery around her changed, if this was five years earlier she would be dancing with Roger. But now, she danced with Freddie’s cats.

“Deaks!” She says clearly winded from her little dance party.

It causes Deaks to laugh, “Sorry to break up your dance party, but I was looking for Fred.”

She grimaces, “He’s with that evil bloke, Paul.” Liv and Paul didn’t like each other in 1975, and time didn’t faze that dislike from either parties. “Said he’d be back soon.” She answers his next question before he can even ask it.

He looks around, “Eaten yet?”

“No.”

“Come on, let’s get something.”

They end up at a little diner around the corner, one that they used to visit when Freddie only dreamed of owning Garden Lodge. She orders a burger and a strawberry milkshake, and he follows suit substituting the milkshake for chocolate.

“You haven’t changed, still blaring that horrendous country music.”

She rolls her eyes as she bites into her burger, “It reminds me of my dad.” Deaky didn’t know that, and he winces as she continues. “He was an American from the great state of Alabama,” She says the state with a fake southern drawl, “He came over here during the War. Survived that, and married the nurse that took care of him in the hospital.” She has a small smile that dies on her lips, “Only to die of cancer, when I was five.” She plays with the straw in her milkshake, “All I had of him were his Hank Williams records, kinda turned me into country music. We used to dance around the kitchen to it. I guess I found comfort in it. And I just never stopped finding comfort in it, makes me feel like he’s still here.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

She shrugs her shoulders, “It’s just another sad story in a long line of sad stories.”

The only sounds that can be heard is the chatter of the waitresses and the clinging of pots and pans.

“After your accident, we had some rocky times between the band. And I remember Roger would blare Hank Williams, when he was getting ready to go on stage.” Deaky looks at her, really looks at her and he sees how her eyes light up at the revelation. “Said it was his way of feeling like you were there, even when you weren’t.”

“Took my coma for him to appreciate my musical taste.” She deadpans. And the rest of the meal is spent in silence.

Her brows knitting in confusion, as they are walking back to to the Come to think of it those records at Freddie’s aren’t dad’s. I don’t even know where dad’s records are anymore. The last of dad just gone.”

The sounds of a country drawl lull him out of his sleep. He opens the door to his dressing room, head peaking out to find the source of the music. His feet take him to Roger’s dressing room. He opens the door to find what he least expected to find, Roger head in his hands as “I Saw the Light,” drifts off the cement block walls of the arena dressing rooms. Roger wasn’t a religious man, but Deaky knew this song wasn’t being played for religious purposes. It reminded Roger of someone, and with it the memories of her singing it. Those memories comforted him, when he couldn’t be at her beside. Maybe in a way, it was akin to a religious experience for him.

For two years, Hank Williams lulled him to sleep on couches across the world’s arenas. Until, that day when Roger decides to put it behind him. Deaky finds the Hank Williams records in the trash bin of the arena, he notices a pretty redhead knock on Roger’s dressing room door. Deaky takes the records from the trash, and he notices how old they are. And the intials etched on the cover OLH, it takes all of him not to march in Roger’s dressing room and drag him out by his hair. But, instead he takes the records with him. Closing the door to his dressing room, he slips the record out. He puts it on the player, when he walks to the couch he notices a note fell out the cover. He unfolds the note, finding a tear stained letter.

Dearest O,

I don’t want to write this, actually put it off until I could. But I can’t anymore. Soon, it’s just going to be just you and your mama. You have to be a big girl for your daddy, now. No tears, no fear, just be brave. I need you to be good for your mamma, she needs you. Do what she says, even if you don’t want too, which I know you never want to do what she says. I know you think she’s hard on you, she only is hard on you cause she loves you. And she just wants the best for you, she wants your life to be easier than ours was. Just remember everytime you listen to one of these Hank Williams albums, I’m right there with you. Singing along, while dancing around with kitchen with you. I’ll always be with you. I’ll be the wind that carries the leaves that dance around you in the fall, the sunshine that warms you up, I’ll be everywhere you are, where ever you are, there I’ll be. I love you, O. I’ll love you until the sea meets the sky.

Deaky folds the letter back up, placing it snuggly in the cover. The next thing he knows the phone is in his hand, and he’s waking Veronica up at 2 am to speak to his children. When they leave the arena the next hour, he put the records in his bags. He notices Roger has his sunglasses on, and his arm draped around the same redhead from earlier. And so begins the revolving door of groupies, until Roger meets a dark haired girl that reminds him of someone else.

“I have them.” Deaky says as they reach Garden Lodge.

“Why would you have them?”

He can’t tell her the truth, that Roger throw them away in some arena trash can in the States. So he covers it with a lie, he has to save her from the truth that Roger threw away the last of her dad so he could put her in the rearview mirror. “You let me borrow them before the accident.”

“Oh!” She still looks puzzled, knowing damn well she wouldn’t let anyone touch those records. But whatever Deaky isn’t telling her, she decides it best she doesn’t uncover it. “Can I have them back?”

“Of course, I was keeping them safe for you.” And that wasn’t a lie, it was a truth. Those records were locked in safe in his house, so the kids couldn’t destroy them.

The next day, Deaky is back with at Freddie’s with the records in hand. He notices Roger’s car is in the drive. He opens the front door to hear Liv laugh, and the sounds of a Felix stringing together some sound. He walks into the living room to find Roger and Freddie sitting in chair facing opposite each other, while Liv is on a pallet on the floor playing with Felix and Jimmy, Brian’s son. And the second Liv notices Deaky has arrived, her eyes zero in on what he’s holding. She leaves Felix laying on the pallet, but Jimmy is running after her. “Daddy’s records!” She sounds like a little girl. And as Deaky puts them in her hands, Roger’s eyes are as wide as saucers. Liv darts out of the living room, Jimmy hot in her heels, as she’s explaining to him about Hank Williams. The two year old is enamored with her, as she scoops him up. She’s running up the stairs to her room, focused on showing Jimmy the her dad’s records. Once Liv is out of earshot, Deaky decides it’s time to face the truth.

“Luckily I fished them out, knew she’d want them.” Deaky doesn’t skip a beat, as he situates himself on the couch. “Throwing out her dead dad’s records, that’s low.”

Freddie looks at Roger, “Was this during-”

“Yeah.” Roger interrupts him, as he bends down to pick up his son.

“He didn’t know what he was doing.” Freddie says defending Roger’s actions from three years ago. As if they could be defended, as if it was something so simple.

“Who didn’t know what they were doing?” Brian asks as he comes from the kitchen, three cups of tea in hand. He hands two cups to Freddie, one for him and one for Liv. He sits a cup beside Roger’s chair, and the other beside the spot he was occupying. He turns to Deaky, “Hello, John! Tea?” Deaky responds with a nod at Brian. Brian is back in a second, handing the cup to Deaky before taking a seat. Brian of course doesn’t let his question go, “Who didn’t know what they were doing?”

“Apparently Roger, didn’t know what he was doing when he threw away Liv’s dead dad’s records on tour in America.” Deaky’s words cut like a knife, and every word was meant to kill. “Of course Rog and Fred think it’s okay he did that, right?” Deaky looks at them, “Because of the cocaine?”

Brian looks at Roger, “What the fuck?!” Brian looks disgusted, “And you blame it on the drugs?”

“I went back for them the next day,” Roger looks like he’s on the verge of crying, “When I realized what I did-”

Freddie steps in, “He told me, after I punched him in the face. We went to the arena and turned every trash can inside out. But it was too late, they were gone.” Freddie is pleading, “We tried, Roger tried. He was just in a bad place.”

“And that makes it alright?” Deaky snorts.

“Please don’t tell her.” It’s all Roger can say, he can’t let her find that out. He can’t. And he knows Freddie won’t let it happen. Because Freddie was with him that night, when he smashed his drum set and destroyed everything in his hotel room.

“He won’t.” Freddie says finitely, turning to Deaky. “Will you, John?”

“No.” Deaky looks at Roger and Freddie. “But not because you asked me to, but because Liv doesn’t need you to break her heart a second time.” Deaky looks at Felix, “She can handle that fact that you moved on, that you settled down. She can be happy for you.” Deaky gulps his tea down. “But she won’t forgive you when she finds out, that you threw out something out of hers that was the last thing she had of her dad.”

“Thank you.” Roger says quietly. Freddie mouths a thank you to Deaky but he doesn’t say a word. And Brian seems like he is trying to process the information.

“You got it Jimmy!” Liv has the record player in her hands, and Jimmy is carrying the records. She sets up the record player in the hallway. She puts on the record, and Hank Williams voice floats through Garden Logde. And the three of them, with Felix in Rogers arms watch as Liv and Jimmy fight a fit of giggles as they dance.

“I did it cause I remember what that looked like.” Deaky says pointing to Liv twirling Jimmy around in her arms. “Maybe that morning you woke up, you remembered it too.”

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen imagines #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor angst #ben hardy! roger taylor #ben hardy as roger taylor #ben hardy x reader #queen fanfiction #roger taylor

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3shag · 3 years

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August 1

This month, I am hoping to learn on how to focus on myself. I badly need to focus on my review for the upcoming board exam. Also, I’m hoping that this month would be a healing month and a fresh start for myself since I’d been really busy focusing on my family this past few months.

I pray for knowledge and wisdom.

I pray that I’ll be able to discipline myself not to easily be distracted.

I pray for a productive day everyday.

At the end of this month, It’s a new me. All these things are for my better future. So help me God 🙏🏻

August 2

Actually, I don’t know. The month of July was filled with pain. Still, looking at the positive side of this month was that I’m thankful that I’d finally received my two diplomas.

August 3

What love taught me so far was to be brave enough to let go someone you really love and just continue life. It’s been 6 months since we’d broke up, less than month since my grandma, and our dog left. I can say that I’m not that fully recovered yet because I still recall all the heartbreaking days happened. But, I can also say that I’m fine and fearless enough to go on with life.

August 4

My favorite non-work activity I did this past month was to try workout in the morning, read a fictional book in Wattpad, and chill with family like netflix and drinking beer with them.

August 5

I’d read a fictional story from Wattpad entitled “Chasing in the Wilds”. It’s a love story of a CEO and a civil engineer. This story really inspired me to work hard in achieving my goals. How I needed to focus on my review, work for my family and future, and I know someday I’ll find my living fictional character that every girl would dreamed of.

August 6

I feel normal again. Not so sad, not so happy. Just the neutral feeling. I guess the best feeling I had these past few days was to feel motivated on the things I wanted to do or achieved. I feel so bad when I got nothing to do. It’s like everyday should be an improvement day. I guess, I’m already tired of doing nonsense. Maybe, Its time to focus more on myself.

August 7

Actually, I did nothing on this day since I am having a body pain. But, one thing that brought me a sense of joy was that I have this body pain because I really miss playing badminton and that made me happy that I played again despite of this pandemic.

August 8

The best memories I had when I was a child was that I am able to play outside the house with my childhood buddies. No gadgets, just the usual traditional 90’s games.

August 9

The biggest lesson I’ve learned so far from this week is that time is unstoppable, so, why waste time to nothing. Everyday should be a learning process day. Trying to have productive day and rest if I have to.

August 10

I can be present to someone if I am to hear or listen to all their rants/problems in life. I may not be present physically, but virtually I am trying my best to make them feel better.

August 11

I really don’t know actually. But, I think the plot twist happen in my life right now maybe the days I felt so broke. So lately, I am trying to be resourceful on the things that aren’t not going to be used but has value, so, I tried to sell it online. It’s just a temporary income, so, I probably need to save too and discipline myself. But I’m glad I am not that so broke anymore.

August 12

My past self was too busy on school. Less time on my family and close friends. I can tell now that I’m proud of myself because all those sacrifices I did before when I was on college we’re all worth it.

August 13

The grace I am receiving lately I think my extra income in shopee. At least this time I can now save money for my basic needs and be wise on spending for my wants.

August 14

That everything happening right now is just at the right time.

August 15

Lately, me and my sister have planned to have this “beaded accessories” business. So yeah, I enjoyed doing it and makes me forget my worries temporarily.

August 16

Calming and Relaxing. It made me feel like I’m not worrying anything.

August 17

I pushed myself so much today. I haven’t applied to rest for a while. Maybe because I didn’t prioritize all my task this day so I clutched up everything.

August 18

The moment that they pressured me on my review. I am already pressured by myself and the moment they pushes me even more, it’s totally suffocating. The only courageous words that I am holding onto is that everything happening in my life are just at the perfect time. Mistakes and delays are meant to happen. All these problems are preparing me for something good.

August 19

I am still breathing

I have complete and happy family

We are healthy

We have food to eat

Few close friends but the realest ones

Blessed to buy wants and needs

I graduated college

My family / relatives / friends are safe

Comfortable bed to sleep and rest on

God is always with me

August 20

In today’s situation, all the public servants, front-liners especially from hospitals, volunteers, food drivers or any public transportation drivers, and others who continues their businesses just to serve the needs of others. They are the ones who’s helping and sacrificing theirselves to our community. What I have learned from them was to take good care of ourselves and showing our kindness to them because seeing them tired was really heartbreaking.

August 21

When I didn’t hesitate to ask and comfort my auntie (Ate Lita). The moment I saw her crying while fixing her things, I felt how lonely she was in her life. Everything we’re going through right now, I wanted blame the pandemic. Everyone’s suffering from mental health. Yes, it’s safe being at home but It’s also not healthy anymore being stuck in a house.

August 22

Faith in God. Everything that is happening right now, I always trust in him. No matter how slow my progress is, I know everything’s planned.

Discipline. I always feel guilty when I didn’t review or waste my day to nothing. It’s a good thing because I know that I have a responsibility to do at the end of each day. It’s an add up routine for me to discipline myself to at least review per day. Also, it helped me minimize the use of social media accounts, use of phone, or watch netflix.

Strong. I know that I am strong because I am not giving up. Lately, I am being pressured on my review. I panicked and palpitated when I am stress. I cannot think properly. I know that my anxiety starts attacking me. I pray. I pray. I pray. And after that breakdown, the next day, It feels like I’m totally okay again.

Soft-hearted. I’m glad that I am still that kind of person. I don’t have that so much pride. I know that I am still humble and the kind person you still know.

August 23

1. To put God first in anything and everything.

2. To learn how to use your emotions to think.

3. To learn how to rest and treat myself.

4. Everything is just at the right time.

5. I deserved better. Don’t settle for less.

August 24

It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling. So much question on your head and a lot of insecurities on yourself. But you know what, you’re still growing. There’s so much things planned for you. Everything that you questioned about yourself, they’re all just temporary problems. Take it as a challenge for you to surpass. You still have so much things to be learned and you shouldn’t miss it. Just keep on moving forward because there’s a lot of opportunities ahead for you.

August 25

Trust is something that would take you for years to gain it and just a second of mistakes for you to ruined it. It’s one of my most important value in this world. Once I give you that trust, it means I am safe with you and I have no doubts for you. If you break it, I’ll always doubt in you and hard for you to have it back.

August 26

Yesterday. I’m not in a good mood. My body doesn’t want me to do anything. I feel guilty when I am not doing anything productive. But, its a recharged for me. Maybe, yes, I really need that rest for a while for me to think and relax my mind. Reminding myself to take good care of my mental health as well. Resting for a while is healthy, but too much chill can be unhealthy as well.

August 27

The positive changes that happened to me now would be my self-worth. It’s good to be single again. Less worries and problems. Maybe, God really planned this. He knows that I will carry much more pain when I am still in a relationship. This time, I’ll focus more on my personal problems firsts.

August 28

Recently, I am learning to plan all my tasks to do which truly a helpful for me to be more motivated to finish all my tasks. Also, I am reading an inspirational book before I start reviewing my lectures. It also helped me to be calm and inspired at the same time. It’s a slow progress yet it’s still a progress. Trying to not be so hard myself this time.

August 29

I am dreaming about acing that board exam.

I am dreaming about how my future would be.

I am dreaming about giving back to my parents.

I am dreaming about traveling to my dream places.

I am dreaming about buying all my wants.

I am dreaming about a contented life.

All I am dreaming is about my success. Success for me is something that I’ll overcome someday with all these present-day problems. It’s just all dreams but I know it’s not impossible to happen if I work hard and never give up no matter how life throws me curve.

August 30

Maybe, the new builded relationship with my sister. We are trying to start a small business which was her idea and I just support her. We don’t know how to grow and run a business, so, we have misunderstandings. But, we’re also happy on what we are doing because it’s something that you will not get bored or unproductive in a day. We both love arts, maybe someday, as we grow older, we’ll understand each other ever more.

August 31

I cannot believe that I made it. I am somehow healed on all that July heartbreaks. I can say that I’ve overcame all those previous problems because it’s all different now from all my current worries. I am now worrying about passing the board exam. This is what I wanted to happen, to be more focus on my review. I always have a productive day and I even learned to plan my duties to do at the end of each day.

~~~~~

Lord, Thank You. I know that you guided me. You helped me push myself to do better each day. There are downfalls, yes, but you never failed to be so good in me. It’s just a one month, but it truly helped me mold myself even more. I learned a lot from this month of August. I love you, Lord. Thank You for not leaving me.

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chidoroki · 4 years

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TPN ch180

(spoilers! i'm so broken)

I didn't want to be right. I didn't want to actually believe that Emma was lying. If anything, I thought she was just lying about staying with her family when they crossed over to the human world, knowing she would be separated, but this.. oh my god. This girl knew ever since ch143 that she was going to lose her memories of her family and straight up lied to them about it. Granted, only a few days passed from when she returned from The 7 Walls up until they all crossed over to the human world, but still, I.. don't know how to feel. I knew since the prison break she had great acting skills so I'm impressed that she managed to pull off yet another wonderful performance, but wow.. I really hoped she wouldn't! To keep such an important and life changing secret from her family, who are all so important to her, I can't imagine how hard it must have been for her knowing this while dealing with the entire capital attack and GF plantation raid. Fighting so hard and succeeding in achieving a bright, happier future for everyone but herself.. ow, my heart.

Some people are fine with the memory loss, others aren't. If anything, at least she's the only one who forgot? I think it would've been worse if everyone else forgot about Emma instead, so having the promise only hurt her is fine.. well, it's not, clearly, but you get what I mean.

And if demon god wasn't on my nerves enough already, the little prat decides to basically photoshop every family member out of the photos Emma kept this entire time. I'm touched she still had the photos in her possession, but now this upsets me so much. Upon seeing the first set of raws and learning Emma lost her memories, I hoped that she could possibly remember them by looking back at these photos if she still had them. But no. Demon god doesn't want me to be happy or get my hopes up. It would've been such a cool idea though. We know Ray originally requested the camera because he needed to strobe for the taser, but he continued to take pictures, not only to keep up the act to prevent Isabella from getting suspicious, but to give said photos to Emma because he knew how important their family is to her. I would've loved it if something so important from the first couple arcs came back at the very end to help Emma regain her memories.

Not only that, but demon god also got rid of her id number? Like.. really? I don't know why that bothers me so much but it does. I know the id brands just proved that the kids were meant to be nothing but food. Of course I know that they're all so much more than that and I should be happy Emma lost hers, because it truly means she's free, but the number was a part of her you know? It would've been fine if every cattle child lost their identifier, but since it was only her it makes me think demon god wanted it to be that much harder for Emma to remember her past and family. That's what bothers me. That even now, after they all crossed over and don't have to deal with demons anymore, demon god still has the audacity ability to make Emma suffer. If she still had her number, I'm sure she would've questioned it, much like Ray did when he was younger (my mind thinks back to ch28, that one memory of him looking at his neck in a mirror). Maybe she would've realized that the people in her dreams also have the same neck numbers, if only faintly. (it must be so weird for Demizu to draw Emma now and not include her number after all this time)

That leads me to wonder if Emma has questioned the rest of her appearance yet. I would assume she's still missing her left ear, since her hair is still covering that side, so does she ever wonder about why it's missing? What about the scars on her body? We personally haven't seen them, but you can't tell me her back and abdomen looks perfect and clean after getting stabbed by Lewis. Yes I know, scars heal with time, but the scar on Lucas' face was still recognizable after 13 years. Same with Zack and his many unfading scars. So does Emma question where hers came from?

Moving on, a month passes and still no memories, however Musica's necklace seems to be the cause of Emma's vivid dreams, like it somehow brings life to her feelings. We see the necklace constantly, not only because Emma wears it, but on volume covers and other color pages as well. It's always been shown off as this important item and yet it hasn't really served a purpose yet. Emma recieved the necklace back in ch51 and the only thing its done so far was show her that one old vision at Cuvitidala in ch101. It'll be a real easy way to solve everything by having the necklace just conveniently bring back her memories, so I get why some people might not like the idea, but at this point I'd be fine with it.

Figures she would end up in the human world with someone who can sympathize with her pain. Old dude lost his family due to war but at least he can remember them. He asks if Emma would want to see her family, if they're alive, and she remains unsure and lost. She doesn't know who these dream people are to her, why they call out "Emma" or why it makes her feel better.

This panel.. this one right here is what breaks me. Our girl is so upset and she can't even understand why. We know why you're crying hun, it's because you miss your family. Your memories may have faded but your feelings for them still live on with you! I have no doubt that love you just as much too! My poor girl, someone send me her location so I can go and hug her!

Emma might have given up trying to remember who she was and live a new life, but if she did encounter her family again, I hope she would be excited to meet them as new people. Maybe they could all start over. Over time they could gently remind her of her past, and if Emma truly can't remember, I hope they'll accept her regardless.

And a name change? I'm.. mmm frustrated. Yeah it makes sense since she couldn't remember hers and would need a new one anyway, but aahh, really? No id identifier, no memories, no name; it's like she's a new character. I was never a fan of the amnesia trope, like she's such a great character and gets built up wonderfully, and now it's like you reset her to zero. Yeah I know, deep down she's still the happy go lucky girl we all know and love, who's strong and capable to still smile even now, but.. man, idk anymore. This whole chapter hurts me.

There's a dim light at the end of the tunnel because we get a glimpse of Ray, Gilda and.. at first I thought it was Don but that person is way too short, so Phil? Regardless, I gotta give them some credit. It may have been a couple months, (remember, old dude said he could't call for help until spring and there's flowers in the ground now) but they've already managed to find where she might be in this new, large world. Please, turn around though! She's so close to you guys, she's right there! Notice her antenna or something, I beg you!

Demon god said that even if Emma met her family, she wouldn't remember them, but I still have small hopes. Emma claim's she stopped having the dreams and given up trying to remember her past, but maybe that short amount of time believing in them was enough. Aside from the necklace which connected her feelings to her unconscious mind, the five sense can also recall memories. Perhaps if she heard her name now, outside of a dream, something in her mind will click. Maybe she would get that warm feeling again she once longed for. Sense of smell and taste are usually most effective in bringing back memories so maybe just being near them or having them cook for her could also help. I know the sense of touch usually works for when you personally touch something, but if it's possible to also recall memories by being touched, then please, for the love of god, let Ray pat Emma's head again! He's done it countless time over the years.. can you imagine if upon meeting and learning that she has no memories, Ray is just like "no worries, you're still the same Emma to us," and while he pats her head, she's like wait hold up, major deja vu, I feel like I felt something like that happened before. I'm probably only getting my hopes up real high with that idea (since old dude just patted her head and nothing) but bro.. I would honestly cry if something so simple and nostalgic as a head pat helps Emma remember her family even the tiniest bit.

And yes, I'm worried Norman isn't around. Please don't let me be right again by having him stay behind due to his health issues. Just let him be in another search group somewhere else okay? I'll accept that. It's odd he wouldn't be working alongside Ray but whatever, split your best minds up to create equally powerful teams, that's fine. It only worries me because now we might not get one last full-score trio hug like I originally hoped! I swear having a hug like that as the very last panel of the series would've been perfectly fine with me after everything that just happened. But now.. aahhh, we'll see.

I can't believe the series ends next week. There's still so much I want to see and know. I pray there's a happy ending for everyone. I want Emma with her family. I want her to remember them. I want one last full-score trio hug. Shirai, don't let us down! You played with my feelings so much within the past year, so please make all the stress and tears worth it! Give me an ending that will satisfy me so much that TPN replaces Black Lagoon as my favorite series! Go ahead, I dare you! Ya see that beautiful panel? Give that to us and not have it be a fantasy! (pretty please??)

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

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philliamwrites · 3 years

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i could make you need me all the time (pt.2)

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira/Akechi

Tags: #justice rank 8 spoilers, #slight angst, #persona 5 royal spoilers, #new semester spoilers

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Akechi is counting numbered days, preparing himself for the end. Akira being himself doesn't help.

Note: Part 2 | Inspired by ‘Make it Holy’ by The Staves.

i could make you need me all the time

Lavenza is not what Akechi has expected. Not that he’s expected anything specific in the first place, but a little child with golden eyes, staring at him with such an intense gaze that he is the one looking away first, is new. Akira being too prying for his own good is nothing new though. He stays after everyone leaves the nurse’s room, leaning against a white wall between two areca palms while watching Akechi on his quest to find band-aids he doesn’t even need.

Nothing and everything changed after Christmas Eve.

They aren’t fooling around in Save Rooms anymore. No one buys their ‘Forgot something and have to go back’-trick because no one leaves Akira and him alone for even a second. Akira thinks it’s rude. Akechi doesn’t really care. If possible, he doesn’t want to see him at all.

“My sports uniform looks good on you,” Akira says. There’s a slight tilt to his voice Akechi’s heart always responds to with a little jolt—the eradicated-the-enemy-fashionably-tilt, the-I’m-your-rival-don’t-get-too-cocky-tilt, the post-orgasm-satisfied-tilt. Where once adrenaline shot through his body, only electricity remains that paralyses him.

It’s the first time his body simply shuts down instead of running or fighting, effectively betraying him.

Avoiding Akira is like trying to run away from a bee while wearing cologne that smells of pansies. It isn’t too evident in Maruki’s palace. Any slip-up means potentionally risking all their lives, so Akira approaches him for obligations only. Healing, consultation, strategy. Akechi lets him, always catching him staring at his ass though.

Everything gets trickier when they’re in the real world. There’s only so long Akechi can hide in his cold one-room apartment, emptied by Shido’s henchmen at some point during his disappearance in December, before a phone call or message summons him to meet with the rest. He does want to defeat Maruki. He does not want to achieve it by pretending to be friends.

“If you have time to simply stand there, why not use it to plan our next infiltration?” Akechi asks without looking back, pretending that rummaging through the cupboards requires his whole attention. He’s a man on a mission, adamant that if he only ignores Akira long enough, he’ll just lose interest like a child growing bored with their toys.

He underestimates him.

Again.

“Morgana and the rest have that covered.” Footsteps draw closer. Akechi’s body tenses into one hard, solid muscle. “I’m here because there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Is that so?” Akechi closes a cabinet door with a loud bang, marching to the other side of the room. “Because I have nothing to say to you.”

There are million things he wants, maybe needs to say, but simply thinking about them closes Akechi’s throat off, choking him with this bitter taste of rotten glory and ruined dreams. He’d rather die than allow this weakness to take hold of him.

“Akechi.”

He ignores him, rummaging through a drawer that’s crammed full of snacks. No band-aids. He hates this place.

“Akechi.”

Dull pain throbs at the back of his head. He tells Robin Hood to make Loki stop, but silence in return reminds him that since the boiler room, Robin has been gone. It’s easy to forget that sometimes. It isn’t as easy falling asleep again after waking from a nightmare where he hears Robin’s atrocious screams still ringing in his head.

He tears through the next drawer, refusing to think about anything else except band-aids, band-aids, band-aids, what shitty nurse room doesn’t have band-aids—

“Goro.”

Akira is so close; he feels his warm breath on the back of his neck.

Fight, flight or stay to be devoured. Akechi barely turns his head, eyes creeping up slowly to Akira’s face. Being this close was never a problem before—Akechi has had enough time to count every single lash, black as spilt ink, cursing them curling like crescent moons and throwing long shadows over high, winged cheekbones he can draw with closed eyes on paper. This face is as familiar as his own. He’s seen it angry, laughing, frowning; wearing a wicked, cruel smile, contort in hot, all-consuming pleasure: slightly open mouth with pink, swollen lips, blushing, hot cheeks. Dead, empty eyes. Red, thick blood between slanted eyebrows.

In his nightmares, Akechi hears Robin’s scared screams in the boiler room, and sees Akira’s slack face slam on the prosecutor’s desk.

No. There really is nothing to say.

“Goro?” Akira’s voice is barely a whisper. “You’re shaking.”

If there is a time for his body to betray him, it isn’t now. Akechi turns away, his mission forgotten. Right now, he needs to get as far away from here as possible. Akechi never feared his mistakes to catch up to him some day, but Akira, alive and kicking Akira, proves him wrong over and over again. “If there’s nothing else, it’s time for me to go,” he says.

He shoves Akira out of his way, quickly pulling his hand back as if burnt by this simple touch. He manages to cross the room halfway before Akira’s voice makes him stop.

“Were you looking for this?”

He turns around. Akira is holding a partially opened package of band-aids, presenting them like bait to prey that doesn’t know any better. Akechi wants to bare his teeth.

“I’m not here to play games,” he hisses, stomping towards Akira who beelines towards him as well, approaching Akechi too fast. Two feet until they crash like stars and swallow everything. One foot until they collide like cars and explode into tiny, burning pieces. Before they set the room in flames, Akira halts.

“Good,” he says and takes Akechi’s wrist—far gentler than he’d expected or liked, and leads him to the sitting area near the door where he can see the exit so close and yet so far. “Because I’m not playing.”

Akechi clicks his tongue.

He drops begrudgingly into an armchair, folding one leg over the other and crossing his arms. Akira knees down in front of him, just a few inches away from his legs. It reminds Akechi of a similar image several months ago, only he was still acting for an audience that never cared about him in the first place, and Akira was wearing a tight, black latex cop uniform.

Only one of those things makes him want to go back to that time.

“Let me,” Akira says, holding out one hand to Akechi like a knight asking for allowance to kiss his maiden’s fair hand.

“I’m not a little kid,” Akechi hisses but it lacks its usual venom. Akira doesn’t pressure. Wordlessly, he waits, the inside of his palm lying open, vulnerable.

Akechi stares daggers at it, hoping it will simply disappear. When the result disappoints, he takes the easy route and slaps his hand in Akira’s. “Just hurry up.”

Akira hums. He’s inspecting Akechi’s hand, searching for the injury like a scientist looking for the answer of the afterlife. His hold is light like a feather, careful and hesitant, as if the universe granted him the honour to look after a priceless treasure that builds kingdoms and burns countries.

“Where do you need it?”

“I can do it on my own.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt your abilities.” Fumbling with the bandage, Akira pulls his eyebrows together in concentration, a little smile flirting with his lips. Akechi knows it, the everything-is-a-game-to-me-smile but this time stakes are too high for him to join. “But humour me. Now, where do I put it on?”

He glares at him. Seeing no way to win, he turns his hand, his palm fitting perfectly against Akira’s, showing the little, shallow cut on one finger.

Akira stares at it, very unimpressed. “Are you an actual child?”

Akechi pulls his hand away—too slow. Akira’s fingers latch around his wrist, holding him in place. “Wait, wait, I’m joking.”

“You’re not funny,” Akechi replies drily. He watches Akira put a bandage around his finger, smoothing it out with his thumb.

“This…” He digs his thumb slightly where the wound is, making it burn but Akechi doesn’t flinch. “… looks like a ring, doesn’t it?”

Akechi raises one eyebrow. “It doesn’t.”

“Like a wedding ring,” Akira continues as if he didn’t say anything. Akechi looks down at the band-aid around his ring finger. He feels too awake all of a sudden, yet extremely tired. Everything buzzes, from his head to his toes, and he can’t tell if it’s Maruki’s Actualized Happy World or Akira touching him or the fact that he should not be. He remains very still, like a corpse, and stares over Akira’s curly mop of hair at the mirror hanging at the opposite end of the room. Brown eyes stare back at him—unflinching, lifeless like the glassy eyes of a dead fish until he blinks and it’s just his normal, usual face.

“Don’t tell me you’re entertaining the absurd idea of marriage,” he mocks, a crooked smile cutting his mouth into two red lines. “What are you, a lonely housewife in her thirties?”

“What can I say, I’m a romantic at heart,” Akira answers. He isn’t smiling.

Akechi’s grin dies. “If you have time to think about something this foolish, then there will be no problem in securing the path to the treasure tomorrow, right?” His voice sounds weird to his own ears. He feels sick.

Finally, his hand is set free as Akira places it carefully on Akechi’s knee.

“You’re smart enough to figure out where I’m going with this conversation,” Akira says, rising to his feet. He seems a little absent minded, his eyes unfocused and thoughts far away from this room. “Think about my proposal.”

“Propo—” Akechi jumps to his feet, his ears buzzing with a swarm of angry bees. He’s so close to Akira, their chest almost touch. He smells it again: coffee, washing powder, sweat. No blood this time. It feels wrong. “I have no interest in entertaining this stupid idea.”

“Do you hate it because it’s a social construct and divorce is way too expensive,” Akira asks, his eyes snapping back to Akechi and focusing with too much determination in them on him. “Or is it the thought of living with someone that allows you to be vulnerable that scares you.”

I’m not scared of anything, Akechi wants to say. What comes out instead is, “Why did you ask if you know the answer already?”

“Because I want to hear it from you. I want to know what you want.”

What does Goro Akechi want? No one has asked him this before, so he’s taken aback a second, speechless. A lump grows in his throat, burning every time he swallows.

“I don’t want someone else to decide how I live my life,” he says eventually. Slowly, word for word so Akira understands that what makes Goro Akechi the person he is, is something he was never allowed to have in the first place and the crave for it now is like craving air underwater. “I don’t want to be someone’s puppet.”

Akira’s voice grows louder. “Then what do you want?”

Akechi’s body shudders with rage. I want to live.

He turns around, blinking furiously against the burning in his eyes. “We’re done talking. You can contact me if there are important things we need to discuss. That’s what I want.”

There is no answer, but he knows he’s got his point across. Some people take Akira’s silence for what it is, when sometimes it speaks louder than his words. Right now, he feels it like a solid pressure against his skin, leaving dents and reshaping his body and he’s afraid to turn around and look in the mirror again.

Marriage.

Marriage with Akira Kurusu of all people.

What an absolutely stupid, horrendous idea. What a horrifying dream and scary hope to plant into someone whose soil is home to maggots and vermin that only know the taste of blood. Akechi takes that seed and hides it somewhere deep, deep inside his chest where the dirt hasn’t reached; an almost forgotten place that still loves toy guns and collects Phoenix Ranger Featherman stickers to put them on his bento lunch box.

That is the only part of himself he wishes Akira could get to know before the end as well.

#philliamwrites #ao3 #fanfiction #persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #shuake #goro akechi #akira kusuru #ren amamiya #perosna 5 joker #p5 joker

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jesuiscalmedammit · 4 years

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High Voltage – (2) Blindfold || [The Mandalorian x reader]

note.1: most of the time i had finally // beautiful stranger by halsey on repeat while writing this part. || part one

There was one thing Din managed to achieve that night and it was throwing his plan out the window. The plan was to simply go to sleep so he would stop thinking about you but what happened was the exact opposite of that. Since his mind was in overdrive, he couldn’t sleep and he kept thinking, spending most of his time awake studying you.

With his arms wrapped tightly around your body, he watched you sleep, breathing evenly and barely moving. He wondered if you were dreaming. And if you did, could it be him you dreamed about?

Having you there, being this close to him when he was so vulnerable without his armor was a completely new experience. It was strange at first, but the more time that passed, the more natural it felt. He could get used to this. He could get used to being in such an intimate situation with you.

But only with you.

Kissing or even just touching the back of your neck, your shoulder and then your back along your spine–hell, any inch of your body–was something he was dying to do. Although considering he was unsure if he really could stop himself, a voice in his head told him to forget it. Not like that was so easy. Since he had time, he used it to think about this: maybe there was a way to make it work.

Very carefully, he let go of your body and moved to the edge of the bed while keeping an eye on you to make sure you were still asleep, then he took a good look around the room. He needed a piece of fabric, something thick for his plan. At first, he thought about cutting down the bottom of his cape but when he noticed a larger wooden box across the room, he decided to put that option on hold. Inside he found some tools and under them was an old scarf. It was better than nothing so he took it to the bed and placed it on top of his blaster.

At one point during the night, he managed to fall asleep and only woke up to an annoying beeping sound and you talking to him. “Please, let me go, I can’t reach it,” you said as you tried to pry his arm off you.

But he only tightened his grip and muttered, “No.”

“It won’t stop beeping, you know.”

“Fine.”

With a sigh he pulled away his arm, letting you roll closer to the beeping bracelet. “Great news, the ship will be here in about six hours,” you noted quietly.

Din sat up in bed, leaning his back against the headboard as he watched you push a few more buttons on your device to close the holographic screen. “So we have time,” he noted with a small smile.

Nodding, you placed the small machine on the table beside the bed, moving cautiously so you wouldn’t accidentally see his face. “I want to fix your vambrace before we leave.”

“It can wait,” he told you as he once again wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to sit between his stretched legs with your back pressed to his chest. You didn’t object, in fact, you moved your body a little to get more comfortable with your head being tucked under his chin. “I’d rather stay here for a little longer.”

“Aren’t you worried that I’m awake and might turn around to see what you look like under that helmet after you go back to sleep?”

“I’m not planning to sleep.”

Suddenly you tried to move your head to look at him but he quickly put a hand on your chin to make you look ahead again. “Then what’s the plan?” you asked eventually.

“I want to talk to you about something. I had time to think last night and I realized that you’re important to me.” He kept a short pause, thinking about this statement for a few more moments before saying something out loud, something that had been on his mind for a while. “Maybe more important than you should be.”

“What does that supposed to mean?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious what it means. Question is, do you have any feelings for me?”

“Yes, but we both know it’s complicated.”

“I know. I want to be with you but I don’t want to turn my back on my people either,” he admitted quietly as he kissed your neck. “I guess we’ll have to figure out how to make this work together.”

For the first time in a while, Din truly enjoyed something. It wasn’t just some meaningless primal need he felt when it came to you. No, it was more than that, it was something much deeper. He slowly moved his hand to the hem of your shirt, curling his fingers around the fabric while making sure his little fingers gently brushed your skin. When he removed it, you didn’t try to stop him. Without discussing it, he just knew you gave him full control of the situation, letting him do whatever he wanted.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he ran a finger down your spine, making you arch your back in the company of a quiet moan. “Look, I may have found a loophole,” he began, whispering into your ear. “The whole point of the helmet rule is to make sure no living being sees our face. But... what if we make sure you can’t see it? Like now.” You let out a thoughtful hum but waited for him to continue. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good.” Din picked up the old scarf he’d find earlier that night then raised it to your face. “Let me put this on,” he said as he carefully covered your eyes with it.

“A blindfold? What are you planning to do?”

“You’ll see.”

You started giggling at this. “With a blindfold on? I highly doubt it.”

“Could you just not ruin the mood?” This simple request turned out to be a mistake because in less than a second you already opened your mouth to say something again. Letting out a frustrated groan, he covered your mouth with his hand to silence you. “Alright, one more smart-ass comment and I’ll have to gag you,” he whispered in your ear before playfully biting your earlobe.

The moment he pulled away his hand, though, you spoke up with a playful smile on your lips. “Someone’s kinky.”

Din couldn’t believe that you just couldn’t keep quiet. Why did you find this simple little task so hard? Before saying anything, he moved towards the other end of the bed to kneel right in front of you and put his hands on the sides of your neck to make you focus on him. “Final warning,” he told you quietly, leaning so close that his lips were only inches away from yours. “And don’t test my patience. I’ve been waiting for this long enough, I don’t have much left.”

You launched forward with a wicked smile, kissing him hard on the lips while you tried to find a way to take off his shirt. With your eyes covered it turned out to be a quite difficult task so he quickly reached down to help you. When he said he was growing very impatient, he wasn’t joking. He’d been pining for you for a while, but he was constantly fighting this feeling because he didn’t want to ruin things by giving in to his needs. But now he had you in his arms, where he was sure you belonged.

Exploring every single inch of your body was the grand prize. He deserved it, after all, he’d been a good, obedient warrior, never going against the Mandalorian code. So he decided to forget about all his doubts and focus only on you. Once he pushed you back in bed he climbed on top of you to kiss your collarbone first, then he kissed his way down your chest, straight to your stomach, before slowly removing your pants so he could keep going.

Your body reacted to every single touch, no matter how soft and gentle, and he was sure the blindfold successfully heightened your senses. The damn thing wasn’t only good to serve as an excuse to break the rules after all. It was a good idea. Under different circumstances, he would probably pat himself on the shoulder. But not now. Now he was busy proving you that this relationship would be worth all the workaround solutions.

“Are you sure about this, Mando? I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later,” you asked huskily as he moved his hand up your inner thigh.

“Call me Din.” When you let out a questioning hum, he kissed you again, taking his time to taste your lips. “That’s my real name,” he eventually told you with a smile.

Suddenly you reached up to cup his face, keeping him close so you can kiss him again. Saying he hadn’t dreamed about this would have been a lie. He truly did. And not just once. Those dreams sometimes kept him going when he was in trouble or bored or just simply had enough of everything. The idea of you feeling the same way he did, that maybe you wouldn’t push him away but rather keep him close always managed to make him smile.

And now he had you here in his arms. It was literally a dream come true. “Stay with me, Y/N. I don’t want you to leave me,” he admitted quietly.

“This sounds a little… uncharacteristic from a Mandalorian.”

“I know and this is why it scares me.” Din rested his forehead against yours as he let out a tired sigh. “I can’t remember ever feeling anything like this, you know.”

Long seconds passed in unusual silence and it made him uneasy. Why didn’t you say anything? You could barely keep your mouth shut so what was happening now? He felt his heart rate jump as panic took over. He ruined everything. That was the only possible explanation. Why else would you stay silent? But he didn’t want to say anything because he was afraid it would ruin everything for good. So he waited. He didn’t like it but this was his best shot at the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, you gently pushed him away and got out of bed, taking off the blindfold to see where the door was. “What are you doing?” he asked as he climbed out of bed as well.

“We need to stop,” you called back as you stepped out to the hallway. “This was a bad idea.”

“Why?” He waited a few moments but you didn’t answer so he rushed after you, putting his palm firmly on the door to stop you from shutting it in his face. Once he was inside, he grabbed your arm to make you stop and turn around. “Y/N, will you tell me what the hell has just happened?”

Your eyes grew wide.

Your eyes.

The blindfold. He completely forgot that you didn’t have the damn blindfold on anymore.

“Din, the–”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he quickly assured you. He couldn’t care about that now, he only had enough capacity to focus on one problem at a time. “So what’s wrong?”

Burying your hand in your hair, you began to pace back and forth in front of him. “I–I have to go home. To my real home. I can’t stay here.”

“Why now? Why right after I let my guard down around you for the first time?”

Finally, you came to a halt and turned to look at him with a hurt look in your eyes. “My sister's replacement android has been in this galaxy for a while, trying to convince me to go home.” You let out a sigh and sat on the edge of the bed. “I have responsibilities, I can’t run from them forever.”

“And you could leave me just like that?” he asked as he sat down next to you.

“I have no choice. They almost got you killed yesterday. If they find out we’re more than friends and you’re important to me, you’re as good as dead.” Din shook his head then wrapped an arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “I don’t want you to risk your life.”

“I can look out for myself. You don’t have to worry about me. And if there’s a way you can stay here, we’ll find it together.”

You looked up at him with a barely visible smile. “So wanna talk about this no helmet problem?”

“Yes, right, well, even I have no idea what to do so my answer is no for now,” he answered once he cleared his throat. “I–I’ll go back and try to get some sleep. You should… probably… do the same.”

note.2: thank you all for the notes and reblogs ❤ i hope you liked this chapter as well 🤞 oh and happy new year! 🎉 || feedback is always appreciated. also if you want to be tagged, leave a note. || sorry for the possible typos, errors etc.

taglist: @petalduck @afterthenightprevails @maryan028 @ucy161

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