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#the tragedy of a woman who had only ever loved rejecting it now. even her people have fallen out of love with her
lovesickeros · 8 months
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☆ the dove
{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings violence, blood {☆} word count 0.7k
Her hands are weapons, forged in a tragedy as much as a war of ash and blood that seeps into the earth and rots it from within. To them, however, she is salvation. Her hands are a kindness, not a threat. She sees it in their puffy, red eyes just brimming with tears, their fragile body so delicate and weak is still remains marred by wounds new and old – the gold still stains their skin, even long after it had been washed away.
She has seen it all – and she takes the injured dove beneath her wing with the sickly sweet promise that someday she shall mend its broken wings and teach it to fly again.
And in their stupor, they do not see her clip their wings.
It is for the best.
The wolves still salivate below the nest, waiting for her little dove to fall again – no, she shall not send her little bird to fly when it will just fall into their waiting maws once again.
This..this one is hers, she has decided.
Her little bird who dreams of the sky and the woman who clips their wings..what a tragic pair they must make, she thinks.
Not for her, of course. Yet not to them, either, unaware of the way she grounds them and keeps the key to their cage tightly in her fist.
"Tsaritsa?" The soft, meek lilt of the little bird draws her from her reverie, and she smiles – all teeth and little else, wolfish and predatory.
Yet the bird sees nothing but love in the sharp points of her canines.
As it was meant to be.
"Yes, little bird?"
She coos in honeyed tones, brushing her cold, cold hands against their skin, reveling in the way they shiver and shake beneath the ever present chill in her very bones. They do not fear the claws that ghost across their skin, and the smile they offer that illuminates their eyes like stars only proves her right – she wants to devour them whole. To see the stars in their eyes burn out beneath her teeth, their golden blood burn upon her tongue and down her throat.
"You promised to take me to the gardens today, remember?"
Her pearly, sharpened fangs peer out beneath her lips as she grins wider, unnerving to all but the little bird who sees not the wolf but the wool it wears, her hands finding their place upon their shoulders as she whispers into their ear.
She will guide her little bird where they cannot go, where their clipped wings cannot take them.
She will give them that bittersweet taste of freedom and then watch them try to catch the stars..
Just to drag them back down to earth where they belong.
"Of course, Creator – I am a woman of my word, am I not?"
Such sickly sweet lies come to her with ease – she lies and she lies and they do not see past the woolen cloak of the wolf until its jaw has snapped around its throat and its blood has painted the world a shimmering gold.
She will delight in that, too.
"If I may be so bold, Creator, you have been distant lately..have you grown tired of me already?"
Her words were as sharp as a blade, yet as dull as a rock, as sweet as they were dangerous. Like watching a mouse trap luring in its prey, she would snap it shut as soon as the little bird strayed too close.
"No! No, that's not..you've just been busy lately, I didn't want to intrude."
They remind her so much of a rabbit in those moments, and she so badly wants to know what would happen if she just took a small, insignificant bite..yet she restrains herself with a far too wide smile, her jaw clenched so hard she almost thinks they will hear it creak.
"Intrude? You could ever hardly intrude, Creator – what is mine is yours. Though, perhaps I shall have to lock you in my room to ensure you compensate me for depriving me of your presence."
In just a few short words, she snares the rabbit – her little bird, her Creator. They will see nothing but the sickly sweet lure of her smile, letting out a pretty laugh of their own as they press closer, like a bird wandering into the open maw of the beast lying in wait.
"As long as it has a nice view, I suppose I won't mind."
They jest, but she does not. And oh, how easy it is to ensnare an unsuspecting prey.
"Of course, Creator – just for you."
It won't be long until her little bird returns to its gilded cage, now. Permanently.
It is better that way.
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misslovasstuff · 1 year
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Dazai x reader
Prove it
“Her? Mhm, well….”- Dazai itches his head, shifting his gaze to the floor. - She is nice. Yeah, nice.”
Atsushi and Kunikida raise their eyebrows as the bandaged brunette seemed to avoid a simple question:
Do you like Y/n?
“I mean, we don’t doubt her niceness, what we’re asking is if you fancy her by any chance?”- Oh, Kunikida was enjoying too much what seemed to have turned into a silly interrogation. He fixes his glasses with a smirk, leaning over Dazai’s shoulder:
“She’s totally your type, isn’t she?”
Dazai sighs, shaking his head with a vague smile.
“Just because Kunikida-kun doesn’t have an interesting love life it doesn’t mean you have to start investigating mine.”- he claims with a silly voice, once again provoking his colleagues’ nerves as Atsushi could have sworn he heard Kunikida’s glasses break as he grabs Dazai by the collar of his shirt, whispering all sort of funny insults, to which Dazai is completely immune by now.
“Kunikida-san, perhaps Dazai-san is not comfortable talking about his relationship with Y/n. Perhaps it is better to leave him be haha.”- Atsushi claims with a weak smile, trying to calm the chaotic situation.
Dazai sighs, rubbing his temple then explains:
“Look, to extinguish your curiosity, there is absolutely nothing going on between me and her. Are you blind to fail to see that she has no interest whatsoever in me? Plus, I’ve heard from Yosano she’s seeing someone already so…”
Kunikida widens his eyes to a rare sight; Dazai sighing and looking out the window as if the most beautiful tragedy had happened to him. The kind of misfortune that makes people write poems, listen to music and take long walks by themselves. The tragedy of loving someone you can’t ever have that makes you fragile but yet unbreakable, strong but weak in the heart and it gives you a slap back to a reality that you don’t want to accept. It hadn’t occurred to Dazai before, thus he wonders what this feeling is about and if he can do anything about it.
“Have you ever been rejected by a woman before?”- Atsushi asks, after which he hits himself mentally for asking such a question.
“No. - Dazai answers frankly, to which Kunikida scoffs.
“Well, at least Y/n will ground you a bit.”- he claims, putting his hands in his pockets. - How does it feel to love someone you can’t have?”
“Terrible.”- Dazai says, seemingly not sad, nor happy, he had a rather empty expression on his face, not letting out much emotion to understand what was really going on inside his head. - I see her, and I am struck by her beauty. God, when her eyes meet mine, each and every motioning becomes more intense for my heart. When she greets me and smiles at me so genuinely and gently like she knows how much that smile affects me, making even the sun jealous of her radiance and cheerfulness. Don’t let me get into how talented she is, and her cooking skills, oh and also did you know that she reads poetry? She gave me her favourite book and underlined all verses she found beautiful and meaningful. On page 63, poem two, she had underlined two verses which were:
“I may not know your heart, but it knows me quite well. Am I resident or a foreigner to it?”
And she had written a smiley face on the corner of it, with a little note that said: “Mhm, Dazai?”
Not only that, but she is such a great-
Dazai kept blabbering about how fascinated he was by you while both Kunikida and Atsushi listened and came to a very unbelievable conclusion.
Dazai is so oblivious when he truly falls in love. Either that, or he’s trying to avoid that but still digs the idea of being in love and being loved so beautifully.
“I’m afraid to tell you this buddy but, - Kunikida touches Dazai’s shoulder. - You’re an idiot.”
Atsushi scoffs as he turns around to contain his laughter. Dazai’s face freezes with a smile like 😀
“Homegirl knows you like her, she literally wrote it down, what’s wrong with you?”- Kunikida snaps at Dazai, who now seems to be confused.
Little did they know that you were listening to all this go down, hardly containing your laughter.
The truth is, you and Dazai had been together for a while and no one is the agency knows. You told Yosano you were seeing someone, but funnily enough, even though they’re detectives, they don’t have a clue about your relationship, and you’re thinking is because your lover messes with their heads.
“Kunikida-kun, stop tormenting me! I’m telling you, she doesn’t like me. End of discussion.”- Dazai claims, getting up from his seat and stretching a bit.
“Where do you think you’re going?”- Kunikida asks as he watches Dazai’s tender figure walk away.
“To think about this unbearable pain of my weak heart, since my friends and colleagues don’t care.”
Atsushi holds back Kunikida from going after Dazai:
“He’ll never admit it that he likes her.”- Atsushi claims which gives Kunikida a rather sinister idea.
“Oh he will, I have a plan.”
There is a sudden change of atmosphere which leaves Atsushi a bit scared.
“Kunikida-san, w-what exactly are you planning to do?”- he asks, noticing a smirk from his mentor.
A little bit later/ Coffee shop
You are taking a sip of your hot coffee as rain hits the window by your seat. Although it is raining, you were feeling rather warm, and even though you were by yourself, you were fully enjoying your own company until the door of the cafe opens.
“I’ll take a black coffee, please.”- a unfamiliar voice says, which gets your attention. You turn your head and notice a tall man, build figure and blonde hair. He turns and faces you while waiting for his coffee.
“You don’t mind if I sit next to you while I wait for my coffee, yes?”- he asks with a beautiful smile, blue eyes shining right through.
“Mhm, sure it’s okay.”- you reply, mirroring a smile and scanning the man upfront.
The probability of a very handsome person, coming to this coffee shop while I’m the only one here and all the seats are empty, asking to sit next to me, and furthermore-
“So, what is such a beautiful lady doing here all by herself?”- he asks, looking at your hands holding the coffee cup, then looking directly at your eyes which made you gulp hardly.
“Drinking coffee.”- you reply rather coldly, not warning to give this guy the wrong impression.
“By yourself? Have you no one to accompany you? Maybe a boyfriend of yours?”- he continues to bring up weird questions. What was even weirder, was the fact that he was reaching for your hand, now holding it.
“Since you’re not answering, I’m assuming you do not have a man in your life. Such a catastrophe indeed. - he brings your hand close to his lips, caressing it. - I can offer myself as a candidate.”
“She’s not running any elections. - a sudden voice from behind makes your heart drop. - if that were the case, I would have known.”
You glance over your shoulder and see Dazai. He reached for your hand, shooing away the other guy’s who immediately flinches to the touch.
“Is it a habit of yours to approach lonely women in coffee shops? That’s kinda desperate and disrespectful.”- he continues, glaring at the guy who had widened his eyes.
“I’m just waiting for my coffee.”
“Wait for your coffee somewhere else. - Dazai claims with a cold tone of voice, making you shiver in what you would describe fear, but with a hint of pleasure.
He was so hot right now, for real.
“She didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”- the guy claims as he gets up from his seat.
“She doesn’t need to inform you about anything, really. Plus, I’m never too far away. - Dazai winks at you, getting your cheeks all heated up.
Now, - Dazai smiles, - get out of my sight.”
The guy gets out of the coffee shop, forgetting about his order which was now being served in your table.
“I’ll take that, thank you.”- Dazai claims, sitting down in front of you, not noticing the looks you were giving him.
That is, until he takes a sip and his eyes meet yours.
“Mhm? - he hums. - what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is the fantasy im having to have you right here, right now.”
“Woah woah, belladonna~, - Dazai almost spits his coffee. - What has gotten into you? I mean, I’m not complaining but-
“Dazai, do me right now, I swear I’m barely hanging on.” - you explain as Dazai notices your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.
Damn, what happened? - he wonders.
He smirks and leans in, whispering: “But the coffee will go cold, love. Are you sure?”
“Don’t start teasing me. - you claim. - or would you rather have me do you at the agency while everyone watches so they can finally know that you are mine?”
“That’s … interesting. You’re so hasty, belladonna. Did I do something to turn you on this much?”- Dazai asks, biting his lip as he looks at you up and down with those gorgeous eyes of his that consumed your entire soul with one single glance.
“The moment right now, you being possessive and all, gosh. That was so hot of you.”- you lean in, exposing a bit of your chest to your boyfriend, on purpose obviously, to which Dazai responds by raising his eyebrows and staring at it for a bit.
“Oh really? You know what else I can heat up?”
“No I don’t know, enlighten me.”- you two lean even closer to one another, as Dazai is ready to whisper in your ear:
“That little -
“ALRIGHT THAT IS ENOUGH, point proven Atsushi let’s go!”- you hear Kunikida shouting from behind. They were not only seeing all this go down, but also orchestrated the whole thing.
“So you guys are together, awwww.”- Atsushi says, giving a weirdly firm handshake to you and Dazai. - Congrats, omg. Dazai-san that was so manly of you, Kunikida-san didn’t predict you’d actually go wild like that-
“Kunikida planned this?”- you ask, giving a disappointing nod.
“A perfect executed plan, and Dazai fell right into it. Now, you’ll stop lying and admit that you love this woman.” - Kunikida claims with a smirk, thinking that his partner would still pretend to be in denial.
“I love Y/n.”- he claims, still sipping his tea and acting unaffected by this whole scene, although in truth he was a bit conflicted on how to feel about it.
Upon his declaration of love, you melt, of course.
You caress his hand, to which Dazai smiles, starting to gesture you weirdly.
He means to get out of here. Now you had heated him up.
You nod, looking at Atsushi and Kunikida who are still looking at you both.
“Oookaaayy, - you get up, Dazai following you. - Since you put us into so much trouble, I guess you can pay for our coffee, no?”
As you walk towards the exit, holding hands, Kunikida’s shoutings accompany you:
“If anything I helped you! You owe me one, Dazai!”
You close the door behind you, giving a small sigh.
“You’re so troublesome you know that?”- you poke his nose, so which he responds by pulling you closer by your waist.
“I put you into so much trouble, huh? You’re the one making me go crazy over and over again.”- Dazai answers as you pull him by the belt of his pants.
Remind me, where were we?”- you ask and he smirks grabbing your hand, leading him to somewhere.
“I’ll remind you shortly.”
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bestworstcase · 6 months
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what do you make of ozma’s motivations given that he initially rejects the god of light’s offer and only takes it once he knows it’s the only way he can see salem again, but then once they’re actually reunited he places the mission from the god of light above being with her? did he aways have that much faith? is it just that salem’s faith was broken so completely that she’s the only one who can see the gods clearly?
ozma's like. fundamental dilemma in TLF is whether or not to trust salem. as much as he dearly wants to be with her… "salem lives, but the woman you hold dear in your memories is gone. heed this warning: where you seek comfort, you will only find pain."
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think about what must have run through his mind when he heard the god of light say that to him. he's just learnt that the god of darkness did something so bad that all of humankind was wiped out, and that the brothers have chosen to depart. but light also tells him that humanity will return, diminished, and that he wants to send ozma back into the world to prepare for a day of judgment. "if your kind is unchanged, if you demand our blessings while still fighting among yourselves, then man will be found irredeemable and your world will be wiped from existence."
light doesn't say it in so many words, but the implication that Humans Fucked Up is crystal clear. if your kind is unchanged, you will be found irredeemable and destroyed.
then he tells ozma that salem is still alive, but unrecognizable as the woman he once loved, and that she will hurt him if he seeks her out.
what light's implying here in essence is that salem provoked the god of darkness, causing the "tragedy" that led to the brothers' departure. (and that is what happened, as far as he's concerned.) ozma picks up on that implication, but what he hears is "the woman you love is damned, but there is still a chance for redemption."
after all, why else would the god of light ask him to do this? at this point ozma has no reason to doubt what light tells him, and light presents himself as a benevolent authority hopeful that humanity can redeem itself.
"i'll do it!"—he wants to save her.
notably, ozma does in fact heed the warning for quite some time; he travels for years, hearing whispers of a dangerous witch wherever he goes, before deciding he "need[s] to see what she had become."
but then he sees her again, and… she's herself. physically she has changed, sure, but he recognizes her; she recognizes him. she still loves him. she's overjoyed to see him again—she even still remembers what he said to her on the day they met, and echoes it back to him with tears in her eyes.
so like ???
is it over? has whatever curse or madness befell her broken now they’re together again? or… was the god of light wrong…?
she tells him her story, but there are pieces missing. the gods are to blame for ending the world, she says. it is impossible to miss how much she hates the brothers.
what did she do?
"though time passed and all seemed well, ozma's conversation with the god of light still lingered in his mind. he had found happiness, but humanity seemed more divided than ever before." <- he begins to worry that maybe it's not that salem will hurt him; maybe by choosing to stay with her now, he's jeopardizing the chance for redemption.
but he isn't willing to leave her because, of course, he wants to save her. so he cautiously tests the waters by commenting on how divided humanity is.
and her answer seems really promising! "are you surprised? this world is quite literally godless. these humans have no one to guide them. perhaps that's all they need."
that… actually sounds very much like she thinks the brothers' absence is the source of the strife and suffering, just as the god of light told him it would be. and it catches ozma off guard, because he didn't expect that from her. so he asks what she means.
"we could become the gods of this world; our powers surpass all others. our souls transcend death. we could mold these lands into whatever we want…" <- okay, that's more in line with what he might have expected based on her opinion of the brothers, and it's not great. but then she warms to the idea:
"what you want! create the paradise—" watch how ozma's face changes as she says this. his expression softens. he smiles. he's hearing that—blasphemy notwithstanding—salem really wants to support him in this. that's the part she's enthused about. what you want.
and then she finishes the thought: "–the old gods could not."
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it isn't just that she hates the brothers; salem envisions a paradise without them. she doesn’t think this world is damned at all; as far as she's concerned, the brothers' absence is a cause for hope.
(and what does that mean for her?)
this:
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is not a "you convinced me" face. this is an "i can fix her" face.
the problem of course is that he can't. salem hates the brothers because when she prayed to them they forced her to watch her lover burn to death in her arms twice over and then sentenced her to eternal suffering to punish her for lashing out. she hates them because she is the sole survivor of their genocide. no matter how long ozma goes along with her, no matter how long he lets her believe that this is what he wants, he's never going to be able to coax her out of that hatred.
which doesn't stop him from trying.
he's able to keep the deception going as long as they're building a following, and establishing a prosperous new kingdom, and having children together. but he told her he wanted to unite the world—end all division and bring everyone together under one creed. salem is, er, right to point out that the only way to do that is by conquest.
and that's the point where ozma has to admit to his ulterior motives, because salem was not kidding when she said she would do this for him. so he pumps the brakes and tells her everything, still hoping to somehow do the impossible and save her.
"don't you see? none of that matters anymore! why spend our lives trying to redeem these humans when we could replace them with what they could never be?"
[obligatory note: i think she means "replace the gods" here, as a reiteration of her extremely longstanding ambition of doing exactly that; the goal of her rebellion was for humans to "destroy their old masters" and "claim the powers of their creators for themselves," she tells ozma "we could be the gods of this world" and that they can "create the paradise the old gods could not" like this has always been what she's about.]
cue ozma:
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he really does think about it.
i think this is the point where he faced the reality that he had to choose between joining salem in rebellion or sacrificing her for the world's sake. and… he wants to take her hand, he wants to stay with her, but the consequence of hiding this from her for so long is he's never actually thought about her utter rejection of the gods in a substantive way; he's warped their whole relationship through the lens of that hatred being a problem he needs to solve. it's not that he had faith in the god of light so much as it is he never had faith in her.
if it were ten or fifteen years ago and she was asking him to forget the mandate and stay with her in their cottage, it would still be frightening to take the hand she offered him, to trust that she is right to blame the gods and say these humans do not need redemption.
but now? when he's sunk so much time inching down the road to war in the name of saving her from those ideas, and he has to not only trust that she's right about the brothers but also that she'll be willing to turn away from the tyrannical path they've walked down together? he's done nothing but play along all these years in the ever-fainter hope that one day she'll be more amenable to the mandate; he has no idea how she'll react if he pushes back, and he thinks of her as damned.
so… he can't, in the end. when she confronts him with the choice he falls down the path of least resistance to conclude that he can't save her and that he'll bring the world to ruin if he keeps trying. so he leaves.
and then he's locked into that choice because they murdered each other and killed their kids and destroyed their kingdom about it and even if he could admit the desire to himself how can he possibly make amends for doing that to her? any apology or gesture of reconciliation he made, she has no reason to trust and every reason to see another attempt to deceive her again. the mandate is really all he has left, so he clings to it even as he gradually distorts it more and more into this existential struggle between himself and her.
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Arlong x OC
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I don’t have a working title for this story yet but here is the first part of chapter one. I’ll eventually post the full one to Ao3. Arlong has been my hyper fixation for a bit now 😅 and I decided to create a character that I think would compliment him nicely. Feedback and suggestions welcome! I don’t have the entirely of this story planned out yet but I have a good foundation. I’m still debating making his love interest a nurse shark or an oceanic white tip shark ( both are sharks that I find really neat). I’m also thinking about giving her a last name.
I typed this all up on my phone so there might be some mistakes.
Storm had a pretty normal life on Fishman Island until a horrible tragedy involving humans took the life of her parents as a teen. Ever since the incident Storm disliked humans and never wished to coexist happily with them. She had everything she could ever want on the island but she felt trapped and yearned to see what life was like on the surface. Storm was aware that fishmen were much stronger than the average human but still put in long hours in her training before heading to the surface. On the surface she faced the discrimination the merfolk talked about first hand making her heart grow cold.
I only own the OCs mentioned in the story
Warnings: none (so far)
Ch 1
It was a bright day on Fishman Island when Storm and her friend Kiki decided to go out for coffee and a stroll. Storm had just returned from her trip on the surface and wanted to spend more time at home before eventually going on another excursion.
She was a swordsman and had gained some attention for her skills and was fairly known on the island.
She caught Arlong’s attention right before she left the island two years ago and they've had a few interactions and flirty exchanges. Arlong even wanted her to join his crew but the timing was off and Storm wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment yet.
Storm and Kiki noticed a crowd forming and walked towards it only by to see Arlong holding a few papers above a small mermaid’s head. “Hey, is that that the sawfish guy you’re been seeing” Kiki whispered looking over at Storm. “There’s nothing between us it’s not like that!” Storm quickly responded. Storm saw the poor mermaid struggle to get her papers back and Storm felt like she needed to intervene.
“These papers aren’t going to change a damn thing!” Arlong laughed. Before Storm could say anything a guard started to run towards Arlong calling him a Fishman district reject. Without a second thought Arlong picks him by the neck. “Arlong! Let him go!” Storm yelled out. Arlong glances over and his eyes widen to see…her.
He hasn’t seen the shark woman in a while and as much as he would deny it he was glad to see her again.
Arlong has been with fishwomen and mermaids in the past and has always had a cocky attitude with them but with Storm he felt like he needed a different approach.
At first Arlong thought she was just a snobby privileged girl. She had the luxury of growing up with two parents in a better part of the island, but the more he got to know her he realized that she was not like what he imagined.
He was drawn to the shark woman and even admired her swordsmanship. Arlong had to have her on his crew. Besides he could never have too many fishmen who were skilled in combat.
“What are you doing picking on a rookie guard? Let him go it’s not worth it” Storm stepped out of crowd towards Arlong. Arlong smirked and threw the guard on the floor. Arlong lost complete interest in him and would much rather give Storm his attention.
Storm stood out amongst the crowd. Her long hair was neatly held back in a seashell clip and wore last nights eye makeup with a bare face. She was tall with a lean build and always carried around one of her swords at her hip.
Both Arlong and Storm didn’t realize that Jinbe was watching the whole scene. While Jinbe scolded Arlong Kiki ran up to Storm and grabbed her arm “ I promised Nora that I’d help her with something, I’ll see you tonight okay?” She said giving her a hug before heading home.
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dekusleftsock · 2 years
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Something I’ve not seen pointed out yet, (and it’s honestly disappointing that it hasn’t imo but whatever) is how twices death truly impacts togas ideals with blood and death. Seeing as this will ultimately dictate toga getting some sort of redemption arc or not.
Let me start with what exactly togas ideals are pre twices death. As we see the manga since her debut in the forest training arc, we are given her ideals from the very beginning. Toga views blood and death as something positive or neutral, throughout the ENTIRE series. She kills the people she loves to become them, and the only reason she didn’t kill uraraka or tsu when she met them was bc she had a nice handy dandy tool to get their blood easily. Again, same with camie. This all stems from the fact that toga has never had a positive experience with love. Or at least, that’s the case until twice. This might be a controversial opinion, but toga only gives and receives truly authentic love from one person in the entire series, and that’s twice. Not dabi, or shigaraki, or spinner. Other than twice, the league has ultimately acted like a business that would grant them all the things they wanted. Revenge for dabi, destruction for shigaraki, to be seen for spinner, and to live freely for toga. Twice wanted a place where he belonged. He was a traumatized man that needed help, and only the league would ever give him that.
Toga never ever got someone who truly cared about her until twice. She never tried to hurt him and vice versa. Bc he was her most positive experience with love she has ever had. And when hawks killed twice, taking away the first person who ever truly gave her that authentic love she so desperately wanted and needed, only to be taken away by a hero both solidified her beliefs of heroes never helping her when she needed it, and took away the only hope for herself that she ever had.
But that’s bad, right? It takes away her belief in heroes and a possible system that would accept her. With the evidence I’ve presented often comes a conclusion that people have in both the anime and outside of it. That toga is a lost cause. She’ll go to tarterous at the end of the manga after ochako trying to help her, that she is a sad tragedy of a woman. She will live angrily and bitter for the rest of her life, or insane and happy. But I think those people are missing the big picture. Something that even TOGA HAS TRIED TO SAY AND WAS NOT LISTENED TO. Because if uraraka represents hope then she must represent tragedy right? WRONG. So so SO WRONG. Toga is one of the characters I have the MOST hope in trying to help defeat afo. That she will help the heroes, help OCHAKO. Sad woman’s parade will hurt like hell, but it will be a step closer to her getting the acceptance she needs. The freedom. Without hurting people or herself.
Because twices death directly contradicts her belief that death is either neutral or good. Something that can be used as a tool to escape a sticky situation. Bc that’s togas belief up until now. Death is easy and not very important. Big sis mag started this train, twice only pushed it farther.
Because if death affected her, then she can learn to sympathize with the pain she has caused. She can learn to smile after her grief, she just needs someone to reach out a hand to help.
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Toga is both in denial and correct in her belief that she is not a tragedy. The reporter lady that could make bombs out of anything comments on this, but toga is vehemently opposed to the idea. How could she be sad or tragic if she has people she loves and a found family? But, of course, she is still tragic in that sense. She was rejected over and over again for being herself which led to insecurity, violence, and her own depression.
But at the same god damn time, she is not a lost cause. Not like how people want to think she is. She has someone who can learn to truly love and appreciate her (I honestly think it has a solid chance of becoming romantic but honestly they’d be amazing chaotic best friend duo lol, though, both of those ideas are a lil fanon, but I can hope) learn who she is, what she likes. As uraraka says it, she truly doesn’t know anything about toga himiko.
Some of this is speculation, some of it is not. I have hope for himiko toga, as a character and where her arc is going. It is intertwined with urarakas, so hopefully that means some sort of relationship between the two (romantically or platonically) bc I’ll take it no matter what it turns out to be.
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echantedtoon · 19 days
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Waning Obsession(Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch11 A Demon Over All
(Warnings: Mentioned killing, yandere themes, Koku having a panic attack, etc.
Apologies for short chapter. Will be more in Kokushibo's pov.)
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The first scream rang into the air. 
Terror. Fear. Danger. Get away. Get away! All the emotions scream. Like an accident, terrible yet one couldn't look away from the incoming storm of tragedy. He was so used to such actions as he came with the reputation. The woman who continued to shriek in his hands meant nothing to him. She was merely just an obstacle. An annoying hindrance to what he wanted-..No.
What he N E E D E D.
And he always dealt away with obstacles. The old body was easily chuckled to the side, he not caring about where it landed or how the other ended up. Screaming. A true testimony to his being. Power. Force behind it and he knew that as screams filled out his eardrums and killed him into the comfortable lullaby of chaos incarnate. Arms rising and head tilted back in display for the passionate dance of bodies scattering blurred to his vision footfalls thundering like a rain dance of nature. A true place a demon would find peace. Eyelids fluttered shut as the sounds blurred out around him until he heard nothing. Saw nothing. Felt nothing. But-
P E A C E
A shaking breath exhaled. Arms lowering head lulled back comfortably.
B L I S S
Eyelids slowly opened. The sky was beautiful. Greying clouds opening up to scattered light that shines on the temporary eternal numbness he felt. Is this what Yoriichi felt when he looked at the sky? Peace and beauty and light? If yes then for once he finally understood what he saw in the sun. It was beautiful...But despite this peaceful bliss it was nothing like that happiness that the moon would shower him in. The mother of the night bringing him quiet and sparing his person from the presence of others who wish to hurt him. Akeno was his mother but the Moon was his guardian. It was what guided him to now. To his happiness and he would thank her every night for gifting him this feeling until his dying breath. For guiding him to her. To his- Head lulled back more twisting around at unnatural angles until the visage of beauty stared back to him. 
L O V E
Body turned and eyes opened full. An arm extended. 'Join me.'  It said. 'Come here and embrace. Join me in the world I hail. You were meant to be mine. I am all that you need. You are all that I need. Let us transcend this plain of existence and carve our destiny in blood. You cut open my soul and yet came back to bandage it while leaving it to bleed out and fill his heart.'
"You killed them."
A knife entered his heart. Reality shattered around his carefully held up foundation. Hands  squeezing down and around his heart and threatening to tear away all he had ever come to have and hold dear. A visage of anger, disbelief, betrayal, fear, sorrow, shock, confusion- All at once the face held- No-
"You lied to me."
No, no, no-
"You tricked me. What have you done?"
PLEASE GODS NO!!
"Get away from me!"
Shaking. A happiness so powerful yet a fear so wrong settled in where calmness did not. Worlds collided. Hell rejecting his still tender heart while heaven rebuked his tainted soul, living his torn numbed body in some sickened joked limbo. Pathetic. Denial. Denials all his life. 
'You will never get anything you desire.' Fate taunted him pulling his by the strings of fate like the pathetic puppet he was. 'Your father sees you as his only choice for an heir and you're only useful to him for your strength. Your mother barely knows her own son. Your brother is the only one people love since he isn't hideous like you. Your own kind rejects you while everyone else will always fear you. Even the ones who care about you most will eventually come to see the demon over all.'
...N-No...
'Yes.'
N-No...
'Yes.'
N O
'YES! ALWAYS AND FOREVER YES!'
"NO"
Claws dug into fabric. Knees hit ground. Desperation. Formed between agony and pain.  
F E A R
"Don't leave me!"
Worlds collided and evaporated. Taking all rational thoughts with it.  Please clouding judgement, pride be damned.
"Youcantleavemeyoucantleavemeyoucantleaveme!! Please I beg of you do not leave me! I can't lose you!"
Lungs burnt in panic beyond comprehension. He couldn't think clearly. He felt like he was burning in a fire while also frozen so numb in ice he lost all feeling.
"I have nothing else. I don't want to lose this. I can't lose you! PLEASE! You're the only good thing I've ever felt!"
She was the only thing he could love. He didn't want to lose the light that had finally shined into his heart.
"I only wanted you safe! I swear...I'm sorry. Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry! Forgive me. Please don't leave me!"
Please don't leave him. Please don't leave him like so many others had before.
"I LOVE YOU! I love you, I love you, I love you so much you don't understand!"
Don't reject him. Please accept him for him. Please don't abandon him.
"I want you. ONLY YOU! I've never felt this way before in my entire existence! I want to be by your side as your husband! I want to raise children with you! I want to be with you until time collapses!"
He wanted to marry her! To lay beside her as they grew old together. Watching as their children grew. He wanted that. A family. He never realized that he wanted one so much until he met someone he could be vulnerable with. 
"Please. Anything...Just don't leave me alone."
Pathetic. Utterly pathetic. The demon wept for the second time ever since he was a babe in his mother's arms. The weight of how he looked now did not matter. The fabric clutched in his hands and buried into his face would be enough for shielding for now. 
"Kokushibo.....Get up."
He couldn't! Hecouldnthecouldnthecouldnt- He did not want to see the rejection. The disgust. The anger.
"If you don't someone might come kill you."
A fate he didn't care about in this moment.
".....Please."  A gentle touch to his shivering pathetic head. "Let's go. Alright? I don't want you to get hurt."
"I don't want to lose you to them. The- they'll kill you because..."
Because of YOU. YOUR CURSED BIRTH.
"Then I'll go with you. Alright? But you must move."
"...Thank you."
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brainbuffering · 1 year
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12 Days of Manga (2022)
Day 6: Top 3 Josei
1) I want to be a Wall by Honoami Shirano from YenPress (T: Emma Schumacker L: Alexis Eckerman) 
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[ID: English Cover for Vol 1 of “I want to be a wall” A woman and a man in traditonal japanese wedding garb sit next to each other, but facing different directions. The woman looks nervous and anxious, the man sad and stoic. A pink knot is behind them.]
“Any love story aficionado will say that the key to a successful couple is intense desire for one another—but what if the characters in question are an asexual woman with a passion for Boys Love stories and a gay man whose heart forever belongs to his oblivious childhood friend? Although romance will never be in the cards for newlyweds Yuriko and Gakurouta, the bond blossoming between them promises to be a wonderful relationship—the likes of which neither has ever experienced before...”
Not only is this series my top Josei of the year, it’s probably my favourite new series of the year full stop!
The notion of a Lavender Marriage, that is to say, a marriage between two queer people (usually a man and a woman) in order to disguise the fact that they’re queer from society, is not something that is explored that much in media and when it is the focus is on the tragedy of being forced into that situation. What I’m enjoying here though, is that whilst the tragedy of needing to bow to social pressure isn’t diminished, we’re also shown the beauty of queer solidarity, and the development of a wonderful queer-platonic relationship. I’m really looking forward to watching these two fall in love in the deep felt platonic sense, and whilst I naturally want Gakurouta to find romantic love with another man, I’m excited to see him open up more to Yuriko. I want them to find joy and laughter together too.
There’s an Alan Bennet Quote that goes:  “The best moments in reading are when you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – which you had thought special and particular to you. Now here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out and taken yours.”   That’s what reading this book felt like. As though i wasn’t completely alone, as though there were people out there who cared about me, who saw the world as I did, and would gently hold my hand as the world collapses around us. 
From an Asexual perspective, Yuriko’s coming out story felt deeply resonante. I was almost in tears from how relateable it was. We’re shown just how isolated she felt by her friends casually cruel words and rejections, and that just because she’s Asexual doesn’t mean she doesn’t suffer in a heteronormative society. The solidarity on display between her and the Gakurouta is so delightful to behold, and I am desperate to know what happens next. I’m especially interested in how they came to meet and agree to this arangement to begin with, but for that I shall have to sit and be patient! That’s the problem with reading a brand new licence, you can’t just drop all your money there and then and read everything in existance! You have to wait....
Volume two is set for release in January, and I don’t think I could be MORE hyped for this slice of life not-romance. More series like this please!
2) The Yakuza’s Guide To Baby Sitting by Tsukiya from Kaiten Books (T: Jenny McKeon L: Viet Phuong Vu E: David Musto)
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[ID: English Cover of Vol 1 of Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting, Kirishima wears a white shirt and black suit trousers. In one hand he has a red PE Kit Bag, and a yellow tote bag with a bunny print on it with a rolled up piece of paper inside. Yakae gently holds his other hand by the finger. She is wearing her school uniform, nervously holding onto the strap of her school bag and looking away from Kirishima.]
“WHO’S YOUR NANNY? Kirishima Tooru is the right-hand man of the Sakuragi crime family. For him, the job is a perfect excuse to let his violent instincts run wild, earning him the nickname “the Demon of Sakuragi”. It seems like nothing will stand in the way of his vicious nature. But then one day, he receives an assignment like never before from the boss—babysitting his daughter! This is the heartwarming (or is it bloodcurdling?) story of a little girl and her yakuza caretaker!”
I got Volume 1 for free as part of a promotion for the anime which came out this year too, and after reading it I immediately went and bought the next two. Now I’m anxiously updating my lists to find out when Vol 6 is going to come out...
There isn’t much to this series. It’s your very basic Yakuza DILF Found Family Manga, but it is an EXCELLENT one. I love the different family dynamics, and I love reading about all these different big fearsome men who love thieir wives and daughters. It’s so sweet and has so much heart, plus lots of men arm deep in blood and violence. Should that also be your jam.
Where as I dropped “Way of the House Husband” after Vol 5 for becoming too slow paced and repetative, what I’m loving about Guide to Babysitting is that we’re allowed to see actual character development! Be that insight into a characters past to provide context for their current behaviour, or just to see the relationship between Yaeka and her father begin to heal after so much hurt for so long. I’ve cried just as much as I’ve laughed reading this series which is all you really want from a slice of life!
Me being me, I’ve also had a a lot of fun to compare the localisation of the manga and the anime, and I have to say I’m really enjoying McKean’s version best. The characters feel as though they each have a unique voice and the way they write the jokes really helps make them hit! I’m watching the anime in the dub, and greatly enjoying it in general! There's been some great meta jokes of late too, making the most of Kirishima and Tatsu (from Way of the Househusband) share an english Voice Actor. I would highly recommend it to anyone in need of something to look forward to on a Thursday that isn’t a 4 hour long live play DND web series.
Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting might not be anything special to anyone else, but its special to me! And that’s what matters most.
3) Knight of the Ice by Yayoi Ogawa from Kodansha (T: Rose Padgett L: Jennifer Skarupa E: Tiff Joshua, TJ Ferentini) 
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[ID: English cover of Knight of the Ice Vol 1: Kokoro poses in a black ice skating outfit with lace sleeves and diamond buttons. There are sparkles behind him.]
“A rom-com manga on ice, perfect for fans of Princess Jellyfish and Wotakoi. Kokoro is the talk of the figure-skating world, winning trophies and hearts. But little do they know... he's actually a huge nerd! From the beloved creator of You're My Pet (Tramps Like Us).
Chitose is a serious young woman, working for the health magazine SASSO. Or at least, she would be, if she wasn't constantly getting distracted by her childhood friend, international figure skating star Kokoro Kijinami! In the public eye and on the ice, Kokoro is a gallant, flawless knight, but behind his glittery costumes and breathtaking spins lies a secret: he's actually a hopeless romantic otaku, who can only land his quad jumps when Chitose is on hand to recite a spell from his favorite magical girl anime!”
Speaking of series that are complete and you can just drop all your money on in one go and binge to your heart’s content....
Okay, so I didn’t drop all my money and I’ve only read 7/11 Volumes but that is just a sign of my self restraint! You should all be very proud of me.
I’d seen “Knight of the Ice” spoken about before on TikTok and knew it to be popular, but didn’t think much of it other than that it sounded like Yuri on Ice but for Straight People. However when it was in a Kodansha Sale for less than a fiver, I thought I would give it a go! It was boiling hot. There was ice. Maybe looking at it would help cool me down?
What I found was a wonderful, heartfelt, grown up sports romance. Kokoro and Chitose are delightful in their childhood-friends-to-lovers trope, neither sure what to make of their lives now they’re actually in a relationhip, and what things are actually going to change between them now they've finallyadmittedtheir feelings. Kokoro's role as a minor celebrity helps add some cliche drama that might not be everyone's cup of tea, but which I found delightfully tropey and fun. The series is supported by a whole cast of zany characters, meaning that it never takes itself too seriously for too long.
Ogawa’s sense of humour definetly appeals to me, and I was happy to see the casual inclusion of a trans character! Sure, he’s a side character without much to do, but I’ll take what I can get in these TERF filled days. And honesty, I'm really impressed that they included a positive, realistic depiction of a Trans Person given that this was furst written in 2013! (Note: 3 years before YOI)
Like with a lot of my favourties, I don’t think that this series necessarily has anything important to say or do. I don’t think it needs to be studied under a microscope and celebrated as the pinacle of comics creation... but I had FUN! It was entertaining! It made me laugh, it made me flail, it makes me keep coming back and that’s all I need from a sports romance manga.
The series seems to often be in Kodansha’s digital sales, so I won’t be rushing out to finish the series right this second, but I will be constantly checking my Bookwalker Wish List just in case....
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partum-memoriae-muses · 4 months
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Name: Mei Sohma
Series: Fruits Basket
Faceclaim: Rin Kagamine
Age: 13
Height: 5'0"
Birthday: April 9th
Birthplace: Japan
Orientation: Heterosexual
Species: Human
Occupation: Junior High School student
Father: Hideki Sohma (Missing)
Mother: Laura Hooper-Sohma (deceased)
Bio:
Mei was born immediately after Kureno's curse had broken. With the Sohma curse not fully lifted yet as the cat hadn't found love from an outsider and accepted it, the soul of the chicken zodiac would go to Mei Sohma who was the daughter to Laura and Hideki. Laura was a American woman studying in New York while Hideki met her while studying there as well. They fell in love and he'd soon take her back to Japan and have Mei.
Yet the happiness and love for their first child did not last. Mei was born two months early, a sign to many within the Sohma family that Mei was cursed. The very moment after she was born that her father tried to hold her, she transfered into a hairless baby chicken and it would horrify Laura into a complete psychoic breakdown.
Hideki tried everything to get Laura to feed Mei or hold her, but each time she rejected her daughter and even would try to harm her. Many Sohma's told Hideki to erase Laura's memories as another child named Momiji had something similar done yet he refused. Why? He truly wanted to believe he could make his wife love their daughter just as she said when she first found out she was pregnant.
Believing she needed simply medical help, Hideki put Laura into a mental hosptial hoping they would be able to help her in a way that no Sohma family doctor could but it only made things worse. This went on for years and Mei would only ever visit her mother in this mental hospital for 30 minute visits. Each time her mother's breakdown got worse and worse where once she physically attacked Mei by slapping her harshly across the face.
Unable to take seeing her daughter which she called a 'thing' and knowing she would never get out of here until her dillusional husband believed she loved Mei, Laura killed herself when Mei was six years old. This destroyed Hideki and he too would lose love in his daughter.
Mei wasn't so much raised by her father as she was just living with him. Their home was directly behind the main house. Mei never understood why, but Akito had ordered that Mei be hidden from the other zodiacs especially Kureno whom Akito still seemed to call the rooster. Yet wasn't Mei the rooster? It was a confusing statement to hear growing up but she simply figured they were both cursed.
Yet despite all this tragedy and neglect to her, Mei was always happy and smiling. Even when her father forcefully shoved her away when she tried to hug him or refused to talk to her other than simple things like 'Going to work' and 'Leave me alone', she truly believed her father loved her as much as any parent would but the truth of the matter was that he hated his daughter now too. Why continue to raise her? It's not like anyone in the Sohma family wanted to raise a cursed child.
Mei would give herself a wonderfully happy childhood, tending to flowers and playing with the very little toys she had. She thought she had a loving life, living in complete blissful ignorance of her father's neglect and hatred for her by believing he was keeping his distance so she wouldn't transform.
Yet her happy world came crumbling down a week after her ninth birthday. Her father went to work as normal, ignoring her as usual, yet he didn't come home this day. Mei waited hours and soon she'd come home from school for a week straight to see her father still wasn't home. Akito was alerted by servants that Hideki had gone missing and the police had to get involved.
There was evidence found that Hideki most likely had taken his own life when his car was found by a ocean cliffside, though the authorities never told Mei this. They simply told her that he was missing and this left Mei absolutely heartbroken. She didn't understand why he was leaving her, what did she do wrong?
With no one else to raise her, as the Sohma clan refused to allow Laura's parents to take her in, Akito brought her into the main house and hides her away. She now lives with an elderly woman while Mei lives within the deeper off rooms of the main house. It was an alright living conidtion for at least a day when a scary woman with long black hair tried to let Mei know the truth about her father, causing Mei to quickly run by the scary woman's bedroom.
As soon as Mei got to live within this main house, she saw all the horrors Akito did to the other zodiacs. She had witnessed Yuki's abuse, watched Akito hurt Kisa and was hiding in the room as she watched Akito hurt Hatori. This made Mei absolutely terrified of Akito, horrified that she'll be the next victim if she does anything remotely wrong.
She hates living in the main house, feeling nothing but fear and no love as she lives there. Though as soon as she gets to leave the main house for school or to see the flowers, Mei is truly a cheerful little girl. She keeps her optimism even when it's hard, often hiding her tears of grief to instead laugh and smile to others. Though Mei keeps her optimism and happy persona, the truth is that she's very hurt by all that was done to her in her life.
She's just a little girl who wants her father back, even if she still doesn't know the truth about it. Though perhaps, now that she's in the main house, she can someday get to know the other zodiacs in the Sohma family even if she knows Akito would make her life a living hell if she got caught.
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reciprocityfic · 3 years
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#5 for amylaurie
5. that emotional moment that you can't find a plot for.
He’d never had a particularly happy life.
From the beginning, it had been marked with tragedy. He adored his mother, from what he can remember. But his memories, unfortunately, are few and far between. He tried to keep her smile, her laugh, the feel of her hugs and her hand wrapped around his tiny one locked away in his brain and his heart, but over the years, they inevitably began to fade. Before he knew it, he couldn’t quite get the tenor of her voice right, couldn’t remember the sweet words she used to whisper in his ear. She was like a beautifully painted picture, rather than a human being.
If there was someone who adored his mother more than he had, it was his father.
His father took her death the hardest. He tried to find a salve for his broken heart in all the wrong places, began gambling too often and drinking too much, frequently leaving his son alone late into the night to go out and drown his pain in whatever way he could. When his father was home, he could hardly stand to be around him. Everything about Laurie reminded him of her - his eyes, his hair, his nose, his smile. He reached his breaking point eventually, and then he sent Laurie away.
School had never been particularly hard for him. He was smart, he supposed, and he didn’t mind the company of his tutor. Boarding school was different, though. He never quite found a way to fit in. He was too quiet, not quite as rich, and Italian, which mattered in a way he didn’t understand. He always found himself at the center of negative gossip, the butt of too many jokes. He hated it, so he stopped trying to assimilate and let himself fade away into the peripheries of his peers.
When his father died, it was almost a relief; at least the man wouldn’t suffer any longer. But again, it threw him into a world of uncertainty and unfamiliar territory. It sent him to America, into the hands of a grandfather he had never met. As he grew older, he’d come to subtly resent his extended family for disowning him and his parents, and wondered if this grandfather would resent him back.
He didn’t. But his grandfather also wasn’t warm, a product of living so many years alone, Laurie supposes. He knows Mr. Laurence has experienced his share of heartbreak as well; there’s a beautiful piano that sits untouched, that the servants tell him belonged to the old man’s late granddaughter. The few times he tried to play it he’d catch his grandfather looking at him in a way that wasn’t particularly pleasant, so he stopped.
John Brooke - his new tutor - was pleasant enough, earnest and determined to please his grandfather by giving him the privilege of an excellent education. They often butted heads when Mr. Brooke tried to teach him; he couldn’t find him in himself to care much about learning anymore. Couldn’t find it in himself to care about much of anything.
Then, he met Jo March.
His grandfather had noticed his melancholy and sent him to a party to try to lift his spirits. He doubted it would work - how exciting could a party in Concord, Massachusetts possibly be, after all - and quickly found an empty side room to disappear in for a while until he’d spent enough time there that he could plausibly tell his grandfather he’d made an effort to be sociable.
It was there that Jo literally stumbled into him, and changed his life forever.
He’d never in his life met a girl like Jo March, one that was so boisterous and bright and unapologetically herself. In his world, every girl was trained from an early age to be prim and proper and polite, so that someday she might make a good wife and a fine young woman. Jo was anything but, and when he met the rest of the March family, he learned that they all were, in their own way - whether it be Meg and her unabashed love for dramatics and pretty things, or Beth sitting at her piano, playing until her fingers ached.
Or Amy, marching around in a pair of fairy wings and declaring that one day, she would be the best painter in the entire world.
His childhood memories of the Marches were all Jo, her fire and harsh edges and iron will, but Amy was always there at the edges, making herself known. She always seemed to be at odds with her older sister, but he thought that was because the two of them were the most alike in a way, like two opposite ends of the same string. He would always take Jo’s side when she recounted their latest feud, of course, but he couldn’t help his amusement at some of Amy’s antics. He remembers, when Jo told him that Amy had burned her novel, how his sympathy for Jo had existed right alongside of his wild amusement that little Amy March had the gall to even come up with such a thing, let alone follow it through.
But even though Amy was there, along with Meg and Beth, Jo was undoubtedly the main attraction, the sun at the center of his universe. His world was filled with her, with her smiles and laughs and hair and voice, with her words and her thoughts and ideas, and soon his heart was, too. He didn’t know much about love, but he knew he loved her. He knew he wanted her to be a part of his life always.
So, he’d asked her to marry him. It was the only thing to do, wasn’t it?
When she turned him down, he almost hadn’t been surprised. A part of him almost expected it; he hadn’t been particularly excited to ask her, after all. Rather, he’d dreaded it, dreaded the moment that the delicate balance they had built would have to tip one way or the other. He’d always known there was a chance she’d reject him.
That didn’t mean it hurt any less, though. He thinks it hurt even more when she left; he’d always known Jo to dive into every challenge head-first, but then she ran away to New York. She ran away from him. So he followed her lead, as he had learned to do so well over those years with her.
Heading back to Europe was much more bitter than it was sweet, and even the grandeur of cities like London, Paris, and Rome couldn’t stop the vibrancy from slowly bleeding out of his life. What had become a kaleidoscope of colors was now just grays and blacks and whites.
So he drank, and smoked, and gambled, and fucked his way through life, and in a macabre way, never felt closer to his father. Except he wasn’t heartbroken, not anymore - he realized more and more that he never expected her to say yes, not really. That she was right, as she usually was - it would have never worked.
He just felt lost. Unmoored, with nothing to anchor him. And he started to believe that maybe he was simply supposed to live his life this way, alone and adrift and apathetic.
Then, Amy March came barreling back into his life.
She was different, of course - namely, she was no longer little. She had traded her fairy wings and braids for beautiful gowns and carefully coiffed updos, and all her lofty childhood wishes had been replaced with a stoic, resigned realism. It would have worried him, that the world had taken her and hardened her, but he knew that the woman that threw her arms around him and happily shouted his name on that Parisian street, the world around her momentarily forgotten, was the Amy he had always known and cared for, however proper she might be now.
And she was proper, but he found it didn’t bother him like he thought it would. Instead, he admired her for it, that she had managed to grow up so gracefully. She was lovely, he decided. Lovely and refined and determined, so much so that it got him in trouble with her, sometimes. She was constantly after him to be better, to stop his drinking and laziness and make something of his life.
She wanted him to respect himself. He’d never really done that; all his life, he’d known himself to be a bother or problem, a thorn in someone’s side. He didn’t really know how to respect himself, but for her, he wanted to try.
The problem was, it was getting harder and harder to leave her side. She painted in his life with strokes that were insistent, but soft, and he found that her world was just as colorful as her sister’s. It was her own, of course; if Jo had been a red flame, then Amy was a golden glow, like sunshine. But he found that he didn’t mind the differences, that he maybe even preferred Amy’s version. It made him warmer than anything he’d known before.
He doesn’t know exactly when he fell for Amy. It happened slowly, gently, and before he could stop it, she’d taken up all the emptiness in his heart, filled it with light and life and love. Not that he would’ve wanted to stop it; he found he was quite content belonging to her. Even when she rejected him that first time, he didn’t try to remove her. He didn’t resent her, as he had temporarily resented Jo. He knew it was futile, that he was irreparably hers, and he decided that if he couldn’t be with her, he would at least make himself someone she could be proud of. He wanted to be someone she could respect, if he couldn’t be someone she loved.
But then, God had smiled upon him - for perhaps the first time - and she’d changed her mind. She loved him, she wanted him, she loved him. And when he kissed her that first time, she ignited something in him that no woman ever had before. He loved her, he wanted her, her and her only, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.
His heart sang for her with its every beat. Every breath she took gave him purpose, every smile gave him joy, every kiss and moan and tug on his hair made his blood run hot through his veins. He was so full inside, wanted for nothing. He felt like all his life he’d been trying to shove himself into places where he didn’t fit, whether it be at school or with his father. With Jo. But there was a spot beside Amy, one in which he fit perfectly, like it was created with him in mind. And as long as Amy was beside him, he could do anything, be anything, survive anything.
One of the things that he loves most about her is her beauty. He can’t help it; he is only human. A weak one when it comes to Amy. When she hugged him that first time in France, he’d noticed how the autumn sun had caught the strands of her blonde hair, her cheeks flushed from the way she ran to him. He first let himself realize it in her studio, when she went off to meet Fred Vaughn. There was something about the way her cream-colored blouse laid against her pale skin, the way the blue accents brought out her eyes. How her pinned-up hair showed off her neck. He could do nothing but smile shyly at her, any coherent words suddenly caught in his throat. And every time he saw her, he noticed something else that added to her beauty, whether it be the delicate way she sipped her tea, her lips a pretty pink against the white china, or the way she blushed when he complimented her. Eventually, in a room full of women, she was the only one he could see, as captured as he was by her.
Almost three years later, nothing has changed.
He wakes up in the middle of the night to find her side of the bed empty. He’s almost positive he knows where she is, and almost rolls over and closes his eyes. But he can’t get her out of his head, so he gets up and throws on his robe. The moon shines bright enough that he doesn’t need a candle, and he leaves their bedroom, creeping to the next door down the hall. It’s ajar just slightly, and he slips inside.
And there she is, just where he thought she would be. Standing at the window, staring out into the night. She’s barefoot, dressed in a white nightgown, long hair cascading down her back. The moonlight illuminates her hair and skin. She’s breathtaking. More beautiful than any painting he’d ever seen.
Cradled in her arms is their newborn baby girl.
He doesn’t want to startle her, so he knocks gently against the door. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him, but quickly goes back to gazing at the newest addition to their family.
He walks over to the two of them, placing a kiss on the top of her head before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and embracing her. There are a multitude of reasons why she might be in here - the baby could’ve been crying, it could’ve been time for a change or a feeding, or Amy simply could’ve missed her, could’ve wanted to hold her and watch her breathe. He suspects it’s the last one, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful scene in front of him.
He reaches a finger down to their baby, taps at her hand, until she opens her fist and wraps all of her tiny fingers around that one of his. Amy turns her face and nuzzles his shoulder, relaxing against him.
He’d never had a particularly happy life.
But standing here now, both his wife and his daughter in his arms, he knows nothing but.
send me a number and a pairing (preferably laurie x amy) and i'll write you a mini fic!
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buckyownsmylife · 3 years
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Oh, well, imagine - Andy Barber smut
The one where Andy gets tired of living a double life 
Word count: 2K<
Warnings: smut, sugar relationship, infidelity (reader is the other woman), daddy kink, breeding kink, dubcon because Andy does stuff without getting reader’s consent beforehand, unprotected sex.
A/N: this was written for @donutloverxo​‘s #sugary4kchallenge! I took the opportunity to write something in the same universe as my first Andy fic, I write sins not tragedies, but this could be read by itself. Congrats on 4k, sweetheart!
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Y/N’s P.O.V.
The sound of the door being slammed startled me, almost making me drop the dishes I’d been washing. My eyebrows furrowed, confused and worried about what was going on. Only Andy had the key to the apartment, so I wasn’t curious as to who it was, just what had him behaving that way. In all the time we’d known each other, I’d never once seen him angry.
Still, when he appeared by the kitchen, it was clear that was the case. His chest heaved with the simple task of breathing, and when his eyes fell on me, they seemed darker. I almost felt scared - I probably would, if I didn’t trust him so much.
“Andy?” I asked, but he immediately shook his head.
“Not what you call me, princess.” Automatically, I stood up straighter, body electrified by the meaning behind his words. I knew what he wanted, even if it was clearly that more than desire. He needed this.
“Daddy.” He nodded once, clearly pleased at my acknowledgment. But there was still so much I needed to understand. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Instead of answering, he just kept staring at me long and hard, making me feel small and naked under his attention.
“Come here.”
My legs obeyed instantly, having been trained long enough to do exactly what he said without having to think about it. “Good girl.” The compliment was like some pavlovian buzzer to my poor cunt. I could feel the fabric of my underwear begin to uncomfortably stick to my lower lips, and I shifted from one leg to the other as I waited for further instructions.
“Daddy needs you tonight,” he finally began explaining, a single finger running under my jaw to make sure I’d keep our eyes connected. “Will you let me do whatever I want to you and this body?”
The perspective excited me, and I didn’t know if I was stupid for it, but I found myself nodding anyway. At the end of the day, I trusted Andy with my life. I knew he wouldn’t push me further than I could take it, and if he ever came close to it, I always had my safeword.
“Yes, Daddy.” He rewarded me with a kiss, but it wasn’t a soft one. His tongue invaded my mouth and before I could even realize what I was doing, I had to find a hold on his shirt, standing on my tippy toes just so I wouldn’t completely tip over.
“Are you excited to help daddy?” He asked, fingers already making quick work of my clothes as I trembled with excitement in his hold. He looked feverish, like he couldn’t hold back anymore, his mouth nipping and sucking and biting every inch of skin he could find.
“Yes, Daddy,” I repeated, forever his subservient servant, knowing that aiding him would bring me to pleasures I’d never known before we’d met. I watched as he licked his lips, taking in my naked body before his, the kitchen a mess of my discarded clothes and abandoned dinner, but instead of taking off his clothes, his hands went directly to his belt.
“Lay back on the floor.” It took me a full second to understand what he was saying, but thankfully he didn’t read it as hesitation. Instead, despite his eager state, he watched as I slowly lowered myself to the cold marble, stopping once I was on my knees to make sure of what he really wanted.
“Lay back,” he repeated, nodding towards me, and despite my confusion, I did as he said, gasping once my naked back met the icy stone. My nipples hardened against the air of the silent apartment and under his gaze, and I gasped when he knelt before me, hands reaching out for my thighs as he pulled me even closer.
“So, so beautiful,” he moaned, and I watched stunned as he lowered himself until he was eye-level with my navel, and I felt more than saw as his tongue stuck out and collected the wetness that was already threatening to drip from me. “And mine, all mine.”
The first time he’d said that, there was a conversation to be held right after we both came back from our highs. I needed to make sure that he remembered what this was, and he laughed when I tried to phrase it as sweetly as possible.
“I know this isn’t conventional,” he’d said, “but as long as it lasts, you’re mine. In and out of this apartment, but especially in this bed.” It didn’t take too long to realize that he was right.
I truly was his. My body responded to him in a way it’d never reacted to anyone else before. And I knew that whenever this little affair of ours came to an end, he would still forever own parts of me I’d never even realized I had before we met.
Andy’s P.O.V.
My mind was becoming hazier by the second. I needed to make sure she understood what was going to happen before I completely lost it. But first, I knew I’d hate myself if I didn’t take advantage of the delicious meal laid bare before me.
“Daddy!” She screamed, fingers curling around my strands as I lapped her up, rubbing my bearded jaw on the apex of her thighs. She was everything. I had never wanted anyone the way that I wanted her. And I knew that I never would again.
It was why I couldn’t lose her.
Connecting our eyes, I pushed two fingers inside of her and immediately curled them as I searched for that sweet spot I’d memorized so many months before, knowing I’d struck gold when she cried out for me again.
“Yeah, baby… I know you like that, sweet girl. So sweet for me, aren’t you?” I knew she wouldn’t be able to answer, and I didn’t mind. I could barely speak myself. The need to have her was just too strong, and so I kept licking her pussy and fucking it with my fingers until I felt her clench around my digits, not even waiting for her to calm down as I immediately raised to my knees and worked on releasing my member from its confines.
“Better get ready, princess… I won’t be able to stop until I’m done with you.” The lust in her hazy eyes was unmistakable, but just as I was about to plunge into her, warm hands found their way inside my shirt, holding my chest to stop me. 
“Andy… the condom…” but I wasn’t having it.
“No,” I announced it, the finality in my voice clear as day as I pushed her arms down against the floor and penetrated her slowly, making sure to watch her jaw going slack as it always did at my first thrust.
When I saw that the initial shock had started to subdue and she was about to argue, I took her lips with mine, devouring her mouth the way I’d done with her pussy just seconds before. “I’m fucking you just like this, and you’re gonna take it.”
She wiggled underneath me, but it seemed more like she was going through the motions of showing that she didn’t want that than actually trying to make me stop.
It didn’t stop me. She would never be able to stop me. Not when I was in this mindset, not when I needed her so much. “I’m tired of wanting you,” I admitted. “I’m tired of wanting you, having you and then going back to wanting you again. I will never have my fill of you, I know that now. I need you.”
Her pussy clenched around me sporadically, her moans escaping her lips as she failed to speak when my hips grew quicker, my thrusts more forceful. “I need you more than sexually. I’m desperate for you, baby.”
And finally, she stopped squirming, her eyes suddenly widening in realization as my voice betrayed all of the emotions I was feeling. “I want to come home to you, Y/N. Only you.”
My confession earned her surrender. I felt her muscles relax underneath me, a sign of her acceptance of my new quest for ownership of her body, and so I could finally release her hands to run mine all over her skin.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” I whispered once the tempo became softer, but no less passionate. “I haven’t fucked her since we met.” I could see the shock in her expression, and I knew what she would argue.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I shook my head at her silliness, stroking her cheek after I kissed her one more time. I could see my future in her eyes, even if she didn’t allow herself to see hers in mine.
“I want to get you pregnant, Y/N.” And there it was. The truth and my heart, stripped of all pretense, exposed for her to see. And if I feared the rejection, the way her eyes softened before she pulled me to another kiss sealed our fate.
“I love you so fucking much.” And so we made passionate, desperate sex on the kitchen floor. I fucked her so hard, it didn’t take much to have her drooling for me. I drowned all of my worries and sorrows in her sweet pussy, making sure to worship every single inch of her body with my lips and tongue.
“I’m gonna keep you forever, princess,” I promised, heart aching just at the thought of ever losing her. “She won’t ever take you from me. Ever.” At the reminder of the reality of our situation, the fact that she was “the other one”, her body writhed underneath me, her struggle to fight back once again rising, but I wasn’t having any of it.
“Ever, baby,” I promised against her lips, silencing her cries with a deep, sloppy kiss that only ended when I needed to gather some air. “I can’t even think of having to live without you.” 
The rhythm of our hips finding one another kept up, the sounds growing exponentially wetter with each second, with each drop of her arousal that collected on her lower lips, lubricating my member and aiding my goal to fill her up until it lathered the floor beneath us.
“You won my heart,” I confessed, making sure that she’d see the honesty deep in my eyes. “You left me no choice but to fall for you. Now I won’t live without you.” A desperate cry tore from deep within her, rekindling the passion with which I fucked her. Normally I was so sweet to her, so patient. But I knew she liked this as well. She liked to be fucked like a whore, even if she was as far removed from one as possible.
“Call my name, sweet girl.” It was a plea, a desperate need to blur the lines between what our relationship was and what I wanted it to become until they disappeared altogether. “Say you are mine. Say it.”
She was drooling now, and I knew how hard it was for her to find the words I needed her to say as she succumbed to bliss right there, on the kitchen floor, with me. Still, her scream penetrated my hazy mind, adding to the overwhelming tightness that squeezed me, begging for my cum, “I’m yours! I’m yours, Andy.”
The aftermath found us breathless, with flushed chest and flushed cheeks. I don’t think I’d ever seen anything quite as beautiful as the nervous but hopeful look with which she gazed at me. I knew what she needed to hear, and with a kiss on her forehead, I reassured her, “Let’s go to bed, princess. You won’t be sleeping alone tonight.”
And as we cuddled the night away, the unspoken became clear and clear. Not tonight, nor ever again.
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therealvinelle · 3 years
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LOVE your blog so much! Your answers are amazing and so thorough. Wondering your thoughts on the Leah / Emily / Sam situation? Was there a better way this could have ended? Would it have been better for Sam to imprint on Leah, and would he if she didn't turn into a wolf? What sort of relationship must Leah / Emily have had if Emily was able to just live happily ever after with Sam? Do you think Sam secretly was attracted to Emily pre-imprint? TIA!
Sorry about the wait!
My thoughts on the Leah/Sam/Emily situation is that there were no winners and no bad guys, only losers and hurt feelings. It's angst galore.
My thoughts on imprinting, for the record.
So, to recap what happened, Sam and Leah were in a serious relationship, they started dating in her freshman year and were a big item. When Sam went missing after phasing, it was Leah and his mom who coordinated the search.
Then Sam came back and wouldn't tell anyone where he'd been (resulting in a host of rumors), Leah included. The elders soon told him what was happening, and he took up the mantle of tribe protector.
I'll just quote the book:
“Sam couldn’t tell Leah. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone who doesn’t have to know. And it wasn’t really safe for him to be around her — but he cheated, just like I did with you. Leah was furious that he wouldn’t tell her what was going on — where he’d been, where he went at night, why he was always so exhausted — but they were working it out. They were trying. They really loved each other.” (Eclipse, page 70)
Sam and Leah were struggling with their relationship, but they didn't want to give up what they had and were working on it, even with something as big as "honey, I disappeared for two weeks and now take off every night. We cool?" in the way.
It was an impossible situation, but their love was true and in any other story they would have been the Superman and Lois Lane of Twilight.
Enter Emily.
“Sam did love Leah. But when he saw Emily, that didn’t matter anymore.” (Eclipse, page 71)
Sam and Leah were over then, and through no choice nor fault of anybody. Sam was wholly devoted to Emily now, body and soul, and Leah fell off the radar.
It was an awful situation for everyone involved. Leah had been put through so much by Sam, but she loved him and was willing to put up with all of it so long as he could have him, and then he announces he's fallen for her cousin instead (whom Jake specifies was like a sister to her), after only a glance at her. That's just inconceivable. Emily was ruining Leah's relationship just by existing, again completely unwanted. And Sam was the cause of all this misery, holding all the responsibility and blame without ever getting to have a choice in any of this.
“You wanted to know what happened to Sam to make him hate the vampires for changing him, to make him hate himself. And that’s what happened. He broke Leah’s heart. He went back on every promise he’d ever made her. Every day he has to see the accusation in her eyes, and know that she’s right.” (sic)
There was never going to be a happy ending to this mess.
And then it got worse.
Sam told Emily the full truth about what was happening, but the conversation got heated and he mauled her. This ended up bringing them together, as Emily found herself falling in love with him in spite of everything. She had, initially, rejected him for Leah's sake.
So now we have a love triangle where one person gave it all for love only to lose both her lover and her sister, you have the unintentional homewrecker who gets mauled, and you have the man whose biological wiring compels him to break the heart of the woman he once loved and then sees him disfigure the woman he currently loves.
I see only losers and heartbreak here.
They're all remarkably mature about this, perhaps too much so. Leah was betrayed by Emily at first, now that she knows the truth she is putting on a brave face so aggressively that she agreed to be a bridesmaid. Leah, no, girl, don't do this to yourself. Good jesus, someone needs to get that girl ice cream and a Netflix account. And a cat.
So, to answer your questions, no, there's no better way this could have ended. That's the tragedy of it all. Everyone involved tried to do the right thing and fought for love.
Yes, it would have been better if Sam imprinted on Leah, that would be the dream ending where all the difficulty above was avoided. He could have told her the truth right away, and nothing would have gotten in between them.
Leah and Emily were close, that's the thing, and Emily's first impulse was to be loyal to her cousin. She only changed her mind when she fell in love with Sam, at which point she followed her heart. She's not a bad person for wanting to be happy. Rejecting Sam would not have sent him back to Leah.
As for whether Sam was attracted to Emily before the imprint, could be. Emily is a beautiful woman, and it's normal for straight and bisexual men to be attracted to beautiful women. It's normal to notice other people even while you're in a happily committed relationship. That wouldn't make him less devoted to Leah.
In summation, I hope the best for all three of them and don't blame any of the parties involved for what happened. Fate dealt them a cruel hand.
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The Chloe-Saga
Regarding the whole Chloe-situation: I don’t get it. Just what exactly makes Astruc not only hate a character of his creation to this extent but also makes him not stop giving her more and more prominence in the actual show? Like, in S1 she was the quintessential high school bully. Hates the main character, has the same love interest, causes a lot of “problems/villain of the week”. And guess what? That’s perfectly fine as an archetype. She fulfilled her purpose and it was fun whenever she got put down a notch. That some fans latched onto her and her being redeemed? That’s what a fandom does. It takes characters and gives them a new spin – that does not mean they like what a character in canon does, it means they want to explore those characters outside their bubble. With the identity-shenanigans going on, there even was a pre-build reason for why Chloe might question herself. In S2 we then got the full package of explanations for why Chloe’s Chloe. And while some of them were a bit much and Chloe still did a lot of bad things that might even exceed the “justifications”, Chloe became more than an archetype and more like a character with a clearer background and needs and wishes. What did Astruc expect? Even when we don’t buy her background AND think she went far beyond moral boundaries, there still is a lot more to latch onto. And in S3 and in S4 she got more focus and excuses. Fought of an Akuma. Was explicitly targeted by the big bad and more than once hurt by her idol. Got more family drama and focus on how her family affects people. If we are truly meant to hate Chloe and see not one bit of goodness (which Astruc tells us too) just why are we getting all that focus and excuses? As a one-dimensional schoolyard bully it would have been a lot easier to simply hate her. But that role is apparently Lila’s turf now… The way I see her character and development: One of her traits from the very beginning was how much she liked Ladybug and how much it hurt her whenever LB rejected or renounced her in a way she could not wave aside. She even literally dressed up as Ladybug! In S2 when her mother was introduced, what was one of the first things Chloe did? She sat besides her and mimicked every single movement. For me these were the defining moments of Chloe’s potential to be good. A girl who just really craves the attention of powerful female role models that she can model herself after. A girl who is way more insecure than her bratty face lets on. A girl who has not yet really found herself. Audrey’s entire character essentially is a grown-up Chloe. Petty and nasty and kicking down at every opportunity. Seeing how Chloe reacted to her, mimicked her, and just wanted to be recognized by her, I see most of Chloe’s character essentially as her modelling herself after her. Which is not helped by her father essentially being a rubberstamp with authority, Sabrina being an extended arm, and the butler…being a butler. Ladybug was the counter-weight. It was obvious Chloe cared about her and her opinion of her. She was still flawed and at times outright cruel but there was a hint of progress. Be it her later appearances as Queen Bee where she was either willing to listen (Maledictator) or act as part of the team (Heroe’s Day) or the entire “rejected an Akuma”-saga complete with shielding Sabrina without anything to gain from it. For me the most hurtful moment was when Marinette in her endless goodness reconciled mother and daughter. Because ultimately that was part of what made Chloe continue to model herself after Audrey and what made her stop questioning if Audrey truly is a woman to be emulated. Double hurtful because with Ladybug off her pedestal she was back as the sole role model and because this is yet another thing that can be construed as ultimately being Marinette’s fault (which I don’t believe in and absolutely hate!). We had all these things. Neglectful mother she wanted to emulate in the hopes to be recognized. Secondary role model that cast her out for reasons pertaining to her sins of the past and even before often rejected her for reasons Chloe couldn’t know about. A lot of enablers who either can’t or won’t tell her ‘no’ or 'stop that’ [and we know Chloe at least listens when the few people she cares about tell her]. This is not a condemnation story, that is a tragedy! Which is another thing I am weirded out about. How can Chloe be an irredeemable demon who has not a semblance of goodness in her and yet we are expected to feel stabbed in the heart by the S3-finale? Either she had the potential to be good and it was a tragedy it was not meant to be, or she is an obvious devil who nobody should feel for or with. We can’t have both! Should I feel betrayed or should I feel like that was just Chloe upping her Chloeness?
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According to what Astruc said, we were all supposed to feel betrayed by the Season 3 finale.
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Chloe’s relationship with her mother is a real missed opportunity, as she was set up as a completely despicable person everyone hates, and of course, she reconciles with her while the writers never acknowledge the abuse. Seriously, Astruc doesn’t think Chloe being emotionally neglected by her mother for years to the point where she can’t even get her name right and developing a slight inferiority complex as a result counts as abuse.
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THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES
Like you said, there have been plenty of plenty of irredeemable villains the audience still felt bad for when they were defeated because of how tragic their stories were.
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Tai Lung from the original Kung Fu Panda is a good example. He was trained by Master Shifu, someone he saw as a father, and his skills grew, so did his desire for power. He saw not being granted the title of the Dragon Warrior as if he was denied something that was rightfully his. There’s also the fact that his desire to become the Dragon Warrior stemmed from his desire to make his father proud of him by achieving the greatest honor in Kung Fu.
Tai Lung: All I ever did, I did to make you PROUD! Tell me how proud you are, Shifu! Tell me! TELL ME! 
Shifu: (quietly) I have always been proud of you. From the first moment, I've been... proud of you. And it was my pride that blinded me. I loved you too much to see what you were becoming... what I was turning you into. I'm s... I'm sorry. 
Tai Lung: (hesitates for a moment before grabbing the injured Shifu) I don’t want your apology. I want my scroll!
Even though he stops for a second, Tai Lung still wants his power, ultimately shooting down the last chance he had at reconciling with his father. Both him and Shifu had problems that led to Tai Lung’s descent into villainy, but while one recognized his part, the other simply couldn’t comprehend he did anything wrong in the first place. THAT is how you do a tragic villain, not what we got with Chloe.
If Astruc wanted Chloe to be an irredeemable monster, he needed to show her meaner moments weren’t something to laugh at (something the show Kevin Can F**k Himself is doing a great job at in regards to the titular character by deconstructing sitcom cliches), and have the audience take her seriously as a threat, not a joke villain like in “Queen Banana”. If Chloe actually was a “deep character” like what Astruc obviously planned from the start, she should have been more than comic relief after betraying Ladybug.
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A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’
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“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!
If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,
“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”
This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.
The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.
1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”
2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”
3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”
4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”
5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”
6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”
7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”
8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”
9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”
10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”
11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”
12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”
13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”
14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”
15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”
16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”
17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”
In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.
DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch.  
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fanmoose12 · 3 years
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the devil you know
Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert
Genres: Action / Drama
Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?
Сhapter 4/?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Every single night, she was tormented by the same nightmare. Every single night, the same memory replayed behind her closed eyelids. She saw that fateful night, the night when she had decided she couldn’t keep pretending anymore.
It was the night before the great battle, and, as always, Levi fell asleep in her bed, curled around her body, holding on to her almost desperately, as though he was afraid that should he let go even for a second, she’d vanish.
Levi thought that his embrace could keep her with him. Hange wished for it to be the truth.
Getting out of the circle of his arms was a considerable effort, he held her too close, too tight, and Hange… Hange didn’t want to leave that sweet embrace. Levi was wrapped around her like a vice, he was a poison ivy that had its twigs engraved so deep it reached to the very depths of her heart.
Hange had to cut it out, to cut him out. And, by gods, was it an unwanted progress.
But after a few moments of quiet struggling, of silent curses and pants, she slipped out from his embrace and their bed. That small victory was well-earned, but not enjoyed. Hange felt her heart break the moment Levi’s arms were no longer around her. Without him, she felt so cold. With every inch she put between them, the ice that began covering her heart continued growing.
Next, she packed her scarce belongings. She wanted to take more, she couldn’t do it. Everything she’d take back home – her uniform with Wings of Freedom splayed proudly on the back, her heavy notebooks with dozens of notes and sketches done by her beloved assistant, that book Erwin had once given her, the scarf Mike had knitted for her, the flower Levi had gifted her, the very same one she treasured just dearly as the memory of him confessing after the gift had been presented, - all of it was going to be looked at and thoroughly analyzed. By her Marleyan comrades, friends and possible prosecutors.
She could take nothing that could be conceived as dubious, but that jacket, the one that was shared by both of them and still held his scent and warmth— she wasn’t strong enough to leave it behind.
So she put it on, praying for it to give her strength.
A long way home was awaiting her.
And Hange couldn’t leave without giving him, the one man she truly loved, a goodbye kiss.
“I know you won’t,” she whispered against his brow, her fingers caressing his hair with a feather light touch, “but please try to forgive me. It was out of my control, Levi.”
It was his fault too. When Levi came, the ground had been kicked from under her feet. And a simple mission turned into a tragedy.
When she gathered enough strength to leave the room, the hallway was empty. Hange knew it would be, she was familiar with the workings of Survey Corps like the back of her hand. She strolled through the well-known hallways without fear, trailing her hand along the walls.
The Military Headquarters back at Liberio was better built than this building. Even Warriors’ barracks, despite being designed to hold Eldians, were built so much better. Those buildings were sturdier, more technologically equipped, much more comfortable.
But, god damn it, she was going to miss Survey Corps’ headquarters, this shitty building that was situated in the middle of nowhere.
Compared to Marley, everything in Paradise was ancient, outdated, useless. But it didn’t stop her from loving that fucked up little island. It didn’t stop her from loving people that were living there, despite them being branded as monsters by her nation.
She turned the corner, took the stairs, and, at the end of it, just near the exit Hange saw a shadow.
She meant to duck behind the corner, to run and hide, but the form of that shadow was all too familiar, and she was just as familiar to that shadow. Hange had no choice but to stop and surrender to another cruel twist of fate.
“Squad Leader!” Moblit ran up to her, smiling and endearing as always.
Fucking hell, and Hange thought that saying goodbye to Levi would be the hardest task. However, Levi, at least, hadn’t been awake.
“Are you nervous, as well?" he asked, curiously peering into her eyes. Was she nervous? That was an understatement. "Personally, I can’t sleep! I’ve been thinking and thinking, and I even wrote a letter to my Momma, do you remember her?”
Of course, Hange remembered Moblit’s Momma, the soft and caring Mrs. Berner, a far kinder woman than Hange’s Momma was.
“I told her about our mission and how proud I am for participating in it. And… I added a second part, the one that would be sent in case…”
“No.” Hange shook her head resolutely, her hands clenching into fists. No, no, no, she refused to even entertain that foul idea. Impulsively, she took a step forward, circling her arms around her sweet assistant. “No, Moblit,” she repeated, voice muffled by his shirt. If he heard the quiet sniffling, Hange didn’t care. Moblit never minded her eccentricities. “You will survive. You will survive this shit and the next one you will undoubtedly face. You will make your Momma and everyone else around you proud.” You will make me proud. “And you will leave a glorious, happy and long life. You promise me?”
“Squad Leader…”
“Promise me!” she demanded, bordering on desperation.
In that moment, the dream always divided from reality.
In reality, Hange waited until he had given her a promise, and then feigned exhaustion, leaving Moblit to use another exit. But in a dream, Moblit made her stay, coercing her to have a cup of tea with him. And in the candle-light lit mass hall, they met Erwin, then Levi joined their impromptu party, gluing himself to her side and blinking sleepily at everyone who had gathered.
In a dream, Hange never left. She stayed under Moblit’s care, was guided by Erwin’s wisdom, was surrounded by Levi’s love.
And that’s why that dream was a cruel, excruciating nightmare. It showed her things that could never be. It showed her the future she desperately wanted to come true. Escaping from the clutches of that fantasy was hard, painful. And if that was complicated….
Well, waking up in that bed was pure agony.
Every single morning, Hange woke up lost and disoriented, and had to spend a few long moments, making sense of it all.
Her first instinct was to stretch her arms, to yawn and reach out – to warmth and comfort, to loving embrace, husky voice and reluctant kiss. To him. To everything she had lost. To everything she never actually had.
But she was alone in that bed.
There was no Levi, lying next to her, complaining about her morning breath. There was no Squad Leader Hange, no four-eyes , who would smile and start singing in Levi’s ear.
There was only she, a broken, empty shell of a person.
A Marleyan who fell for an Eldian. A war chief that devised weapons for her enemies. A fool with twisted loyalties and convoluted goals.
She betrayed her homeland, she didn’t have a home.
She was abandoned by her fellow countrymen, was rejected by the people closest to her.
But, strangely, as pathetic as she was, as miserable and wretched, she was not alone. Even in her sorry state, despite her vile betrayal, she still had a friend.
He was by all means her enemy, a monster and a devil, and yet he saved her life more times than she could count.
Even now, when her lies had been discovered and her villainy uncovered, he remained by her side, continued to care for her.
If all Eldians were truly as monstrous as she had been told since her birth, then how to make sense if the existence of one extremely brave, inexplicably kind Moblit Berner? Hange, as genius as she was, couldn’t understand him, couldn’t explain why someone as good and bright as him had decided to stick with her.
“Good morning!” he walked into her room with a smile, carrying her breakfast on a plate.
He had been repeating the exact same routine every day for the past month. He had been doing this ever since Erwin had appointed him as her assistant.
In that room, that bed, nostalgia, memories and regrets were impossible to escape.
Hange tried telling Moblit that he didn’t have to this, didn't have to care for her as though she was still his comrade. But Moblit was relentless. And she was too lonely and miserable to cut off the only kind soul that remained loyal to her.
“I managed to get your favorite biscuits this morning,” he continued, moving around the room to put the cutlery down on a table and open the curtains to let the sunshine in. “Almost got in a fight with Sasha because of it.”
Despite herself, Hange snickered. Moblit always had that kind of an effect on her. He possessed the uncanny ability to cheer her up with a simple, but heartfelt and caring gesture.
There was only one other person who was better at it than him. But after everything that happened between them… the hell would freeze sooner than she would hear praise and a comforting word from him.
Waving those sullen thoughts away, Hange stretched her arms and rose from the bed. She followed the sweet aroma of biscuits to the table Moblit had set for her.
“Any updates on Gabi and Falco?”
That was the first question she asked every morning. And every morning, Moblit gave her the same disappointing answer.
“I’m sorry,” he ducked his head solemnly. “We didn’t manage to locate them yet.
Hange expected as much. And yet, the lack of news still troubled her. Where were fierce Gabi and adorable Falco? Were they—
She shook her head, pressing lips together. Of course, they were still alive. They were candidates, the best of all best. Mentally repeating that mantra a couple of times, she forced her mind flow into different direction.
“What’s our plan for today?” she asked through a mouthful of biscuits. “Are we going to work on a new uniform again?”
Working on that project was fun. Having Mobllit as her assistant once again was fun. In the moments, when her brain was too occupied with an idea, she could almost pretend that everything was normal. That she was Squad Leader Hange, working with Executive Officer Moblit on a new project. Sometimes, Hange got so lost in that little game inside her head, she even expected for the door to burst open to let a grumpy Captain inside. But, of course, that couldn't happen.
These distant memories, they were comforting. They reminded her of the rare times in her life when she was truly happy. But the past... was in the past.
“Eh, you see…” Moblit raised a hand to his head, scratching the back of it with an apologizing smile. “Armin asked me to look into something. I was actually wondering if you would like to accompany me. I bet you’re getting sick of spending days in these four walls.”
She was starting to feel like a wilting flower, that was true. It would have been nice to go outside. However…
“Am I even allowed to leave this room?”
Moblit winced. “I’m not really sure about it… But I was assigned to look after you. I think it wouldn’t hurt if you go with me. Besides…” he sat on the chair next to her, looking at her almost pleadingly. Oh, Moblit and his perfect puppy eyes, Hange could never resist them. “I’d like to have your company. And, perhaps, your advice as well…”
“Advice?” Hange frowned. “On what? What is your task about exactly?”
“Don’t know if I can tell you,” nevertheless, Moblit leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. “But they found out that one of the volunteers, Yelena, has been conspiring with Eren. They asked me to interrogate the other volunteer.”
“Oh?” that sounded both ominous and intriguing. Hange curled her lips into a grin and raised an eyebrow. “You want me to use my interrogating skills?”
“No!” paling slightly, Moblit frantically lifted his hands, shaking them from side to side. “No reaping out nails, please! No threats of bloody violence! Just… talk with him.”
She almost forgot how easy it was to tease and embarrass Moblit. Oh, how Hange missed him.
“Alright, I’ll do my best to control the violent urges,” she winked at him, laughing at his scandalous face. “And thank you for inviting me. It’s been ages since I saw the world outside that room.”
“There is another thing I have to ask of you...” Moblit cast his eyes down, playing with the sleeve of his coat. “Technically, I’ll be representing Survey Corps, so…”
Oh. Hange shifted her gaze to the wardrobe, where her old uniform was still hanging. That feeling inside her, she couldn’t quite identify it. Was it shame? Or trepidation?
She showed nothing of it to Moblit. As their eyes met, she faced him with an easy smile.
“Sure, I don’t mind. I do wonder if that thing still fits me.”
“It is. It always will.”
The remark was short, it could be read as meaningless. But Moblit’s voice was deep and gravely, full of conviction. Hange tilted her head, stealing a moment to study him more closely. He looked back at her, his hazel eyes honest and kind.
A lump in her throat was thick enough to make it hard to breathe. It brought tears to her eyes. Hange closed them tightly, to keep the tears from falling down.
“I need a moment,” she murmured, facing away from Moblit, “I’ll be ready in five.”
“I’ll be waiting in the hallway,” he said and let her be.
___
Walking through the streets of Sina was both pleasant and excruciating.
Feeling the sun on her cheeks and the wind in her hair after so many days of being confined to a one single room was enjoyable, enough to put a smile on her lips. And Sina, so very different from Liberio, was a lovely city with interesting architecture and narrow clean streets.
But these places were too familiar, the alleyways etched into her mind too deeply. And the uniform… the long green coat fitted her too well, and, at the same time, suffocated her. The shiny Wings of Freedom were burning her even through the clothes.
This proud emblem, it wasn’t hers. She wasn’t worthy of wearing it.
And the looks people had been given her, the awe and pride— fuck, Hange would rather prefer they cursed and flanged stones at her.
“Their smiles make me uncomfortable,” Moblit confessed. “They used to throw shit at us after every expedition. But now that Eren has killed a bunch of people, they suddenly decide that we’re heroes.”
“You always have been heroes.”
You, not we. There was nothing heroic inside of her.
“Remember that tavern?” Moblit’s cheerful voice and excited expression didn’t chase away the shadows completely. But the shadows took a step back, frightened by his light. “We had a glorious fight with MPs there.”
The fond memory brought laughter to her lips. “You almost got your arm broken in that fight.”
Moblit chuckled along with her. “Thanks to you I didn’t. I thought that punch of yours would get that guy obliterated.”
Hange touched her knuckles tenderly. Moblit was right, that was one hell of a punch. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel how the force of the hit had reverberated through her skin, tendons, muscles and down to the bones. Perhaps, that time, she had overdone it. She always had troubles reining in her anger.
“And remember that guy Captain Levi kicked? I see him around from time to time. Because of his broken jaw, he still has trouble speaking clearly.”
Ah, Hange remembered that guy as well. He was red-headed and had an ugly moustache. He also left a nasty bruise on her cheek. Levi’s kick to his jaw was a payback for that.
“Those were the times, huh?” Moblit nudged her, offering a kind smile.
Hange averted her eyes, feeling her lips quiver. Yeah, those were the times. Distant times, now they seemed more like a dream. A dream Hange wouldn’t want to wake up from.
Sensing her discomfort, Moblit steered them to the side, taking their conversation in another direction as well. “Speaking of Captain Levi, I sent him the new uniform. He wrote back that he liked it.”
The uniform she accidentally created with Levi’s size in mind. It was in no way intentional. She thought of Survey Corps’ soldiers when she was making a design. And in her mind, the perfect example of the scout was Levi. She was surprised she still remembered his size. Although, considering how much time she had dedicated to studying his body…
The new uniform was a sudden project, a product of the abundance of free time on her part. She wasn’t going to show it to anyone. Even Moblit found out about it by pure accident, when he stumbled upon her crude drawings. She was surprised he liked it. She was surprised Levi liked it. Did he really, though?
“He actually wrote so?”
“Well, he wrote that it could be useful, and in his words…”
Oh. As high praise as one could get from Levi.
“You write to him?” truthfully, that was another surprise for Hange. She didn’t remember Moblit and Levi have any sort of relationships, especially this close.
“We talk a lot,” Moblit shrugged, looking anywhere but at Hange. She was starting to wonder why, but his next words quickly unveiled the mystery. “Technically, we’re the only adults in Survey Corps, and after you left, we… found that we have a lot in common.”
Well. At least, her betrayal had one good outcome. It gave birth to a new friendship. And destroyed several old ones. Hange winced at the last thought.
“Oh, look where are we!” Moblit once again pulled her out of the abyss with his clear, loud voice. The wonder, added to it, however, seemed a little bit too faked. As smart and sharp as he was, Moblit could never excel at lying and pretending.
Not like she did.
Forcing these thoughts away, Hange followed the direction Moblit was pointing at. She couldn’t help but smile at what came into her sights.
Sina’s pastries. The best bakery in the city. In Hange’s humble opinion, the best bakery in the whole damn world. The one they had back at home, on the corner of the street in Liberio, right next to her apartment, didn’t even compare.
Just looking at the sign made her mouth fill with saliva.
“Moblit,” she grasped at his sleeve, her hold desperate. Her eyes were still trained on that shiny sign made in cursive. “Moblit, I know I’m asking a lot—”
He grinned. “Want me to get you that cherry pie you loved so much?”
Oh god, yes. Right now, Hange wanted it more than anything else.
“I understand it if you can’t. I mean, I’m a prisoner from a foreign country. Isn’t buying pies considered to be treason in this case?”
Moblit chuckled warmly. He looked at her, and his expression was kind and gentle enough to make the saints weep. He curled his hand around her shoulder, and from the place where he touched her, warmth spread through her body. “I wouldn’t mind committing treason for a friend.”
Fuck. Hange felt it once again. Her heart squeezing painfully, her throat constricting, tears welling in her eyes. She had to shut her lids to keep them from falling down her cheeks.
Her eyes still closed, with her voice cracking, she asked, “Would it be weird if I give you a hug right now?”
“Don’t know. Is it weird that I really want that hug?”
Her sob turning into a giggle, Hange surged forward, falling right in Moblit’s waiting arms. He pressed her close, his palm patting her on the back. Hange buried her face in his chest and relaxed against him, inhaling his faint scent of citrus and cinnamon. Sweet and pleasant, just like Moblit.
What was she doing all that time, without him at her side?
Moblit smiled at her as they separated. Hange meant to smile back, but in that exact moment— her stomach gurgled. Loudly.
She cringed.
“So… about that pie?”
“I’m on it,” Moblit promised and darted to the bakery.
___
Perhaps, it was fate. It was destiny, divine intervention, that led her to this moment. To the wooden bench in the park, to the bird’s singing in her ear, to the sweet, heavenly taste in her mouth.
The pie was perfect, so much better than Hange had remembered. It was soft enough to melt in her mouth, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. It was sweet, but not sugary, the cherry toping adding slight bitterness.
Fantastic, the pie was fantastic. If Hange could, she’d stay in that bakery until the end of her days, devouring those phenomenal pastries until she exploded. Ah, what a happy death that would be…
Moblit observed her with an amused grin. “Did they not feed you at all in your Marley?”
“Not like this.” Hange managed, despite her full mouth.
Food in Marley was more diverse than on Paradise. They had more resources, they had a bigger variety of products and ingredients. But Hange was a soldier. She either ate at barracks or she cooked for herself at home. Food, made by army cooks, was nourishing, but lacking in flavor. And the dinners, prepared by her, almost always consisted of something quick and extremely simple.
The only place where Hange could eat to her heart’s content, where food was made out of the best, freshest ingredients and prepared by the most skillful chefs, was the official events, organized by the brass. And as the leader of the research facility, one of the most recognized war chief and the only child of her father, one of the Marleyan’s biggest heroes, Hange was always a welcome guest on these events.
But they were so boring that not even a promise of good food could make her sit until the end of them.
“Well, wait until you try Niccolo’s food. He is a true master.”
“Already did,” her stomach once again gurgled, this time the embarrassing sound was provoked by the memory of Sasha and Connie treating her to some of the maestro’s masterpieces. Sasha certainly was a lucky girl. “I ate so much, I thought I was gonna puke.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” bashfully, Moblit rubbed his neck. “The first time he made food for us, I was eating like the man starved. I was so ashamed, but then I looked around,” he chuckled lowly, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “And realized I wasn’t the only one.”
“I see you had a lot of fun,” she said, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn’t one of them, and never was. The suddenly appeared sadness was foolish and unwelcome. She had her own friends back home. Perhaps, they still thought about her. Perhaps, they still cared. “And what about that guy you need to interrogate? Is he also an amazing cook?”
“No, he is a soldier, he taught us so much about your technology! He was the one who was in charge of controlling the airship we used to get to Liberio.”
So their new friend was a pilot? And, apparently, a skillful one at that. Navigating through Liberio during all that chaos was certainly a challenge. Hange wondered if she knew him.
“So what is the name of that ace pilot of yours?”
Moblit lifted his chin, something close to pride appearing in his gaze. "He really is amazing. His name is Onyakopon."
Hange's jaw dropped. Her precious pie almost dropped as well. Hadn't she misheard? Onyakopon? The same Onyakopon who had spent almost a year as her understudy? Who taught Hange how to pilot the plane? That Onyakopon?
Could it really be? Could they really meet here, after so many years, on Paradis of all the places? Or was it some other Onyakopon who also happened to be an ace pilot?
"Hange-san?" a worried crease lay between Moblit's eyebrows. "Are the two of you—"
"Don't know," she shrugged, promptly finishing the last of her pie. "Shall we go and find that out?"
Moblit nodded resolutely. Hange felt something like nostalgia stirring up inside her.
___
For a man who was supposedly under a close watch and a possible suspect, Onyakopon had the nicest of accommodations. Much better than Hange's single room.
The house was small, but cozy, surrounded by pretty garden and vast green fields. If one were to ignore the lonely guard who was munching on an apple in the shadow of the tree, the front yard possessed absolutely no flaws.
Hange immediately shared her observation with Moblit, telling it to him in a faint whisper.
"Let's hope Onyakopon isn't a traitor and we won't end up dragging him from this heavenly place," he answered her.
If their Onyakopon was the same Onyakopon Hange knew, they wouldn't need to take the drastic measures. He was a smart, honest and good man. And, judging by Moblit's set expression, he knew that too.
As they approached the house, a man came in their sights. Dark-skinned, tall and handsome, he was reading a book on the porch, a look of complete concentration on his face.
All doubt left her mind. It was the same Onyakopon. The bright, curious young man who wanted to learn from her and who taught her something in return.
At the sound of their footsteps, Onyankopon looked up. And recognized her too, from just one glance. As their eyes met, his grew in size, almost comically. So he didn't know she was there as well. Strange, Hange would have thought he overheard the commotion she had caused on their trip back to Paradis.
But, perhaps, Onyakopon was too focused on piloting the airship and keeping all of them alive.
"Hange?" his voice was no louder than the wind's song. Hange nodded swiftly, having troubles finding her own voice. She wasn't sure it would obey her. "Oh I'll be damned!" Onyakopon jumped to his feet and all but ran to her. He squeezed her elbows, peering into her face in disbelief. "I'll be damned, Hange! I've heard the talks about some Marleyan soldier, but I could never guess that it was you! No one told me that you were captured."
Well, captured might be a strong word to describe what happened to her. Levi didn't capture her, he simply caught her - unaware and unprepared. Hange saw the face that was haunting her dreams and didn't even think of fighting against him.
She thought that Levi came to kill her then. She was almost ready for him to do it, to finish it once and for all. Being killed by the humanity's strongest - was there a greater honor? Being killed by the man you loved so dearly - was there a bigger joy?
Gently, Hange pried Onyakopon's hands off her. "It's a very long story."
"I have—"
"You don't," Moblit took a step forward, partially hiding Hange behind his back. "We need to talk, Onyakopon. I'm sure you've already guessed why."
"Yeah. Your friend here," Onyankopon threw an accusing glare at his guardian who was enjoying the afternoon shade, not disturbed by their conversation. "Already warned me. Alright," he let out a defeated sigh, "Do you guys want tea or coffee? Maybe, some snacks?"
Moblit gave him a tight-lipped smile. "We've already eaten, thank you."
"I— I'll bring some tea anyway."
He disappeared inside the house without another word. Hange and Moblit watched him go, then, when he vanished from their sight, they shared a look.
"He doesn't seem nervous," Hange remarked.
Moblit seemed to be of the same opinion. "He looks rather disappointed. I really hope he is innocent. But..." he shook his head and mumbled, more to himself than Hange, "I was always bad at figuring out liars."
Ouch. If after everything she had been through, Hange still possessed a heart, Moblit's words would have dealt a fatal blow.
Alas... She felt but a small pang. It didn't make her wheeze with pain, only forced to cast her eyes down.
___
Onyakopon returned after a few minutes, carrying a tray with three cups on it. Jerking his head into its direction, he led them to a table on the backyard.
Once they all took their places, heavy silence hanged over them. Onyakopon was the one to break it.
"So, no offence," he tilted his head to the side, his gaze slowly switching between Hange and Moblit. "If this is the official business, then… why Hange is here?"
"It's a long story," Hange said at the same time as Moblit claimed,
"Hange and I have been working together before."
"Wait..." a frown appeared on Onyakopon's face. It was almost immediately taken over by the look of shock. "Are you telling me that the famed Marleyan spy I've been hearing so much about, the one who spent five years on Paradis and almost became the Commander of Survey Corps, is Hange Zoe, one of the brightest minds of Marley?"
"Something like that, yeah," Hange took a cup of tea in her hands, hiding her embarrassment behind it.
"Wow... that's certainly... a lot to take in. I heard so many things about you."
"Nice ones, I hope?"
The corners of Onyakopon's lips slid down. "Not really."
"Ah... Understandable, I guess."
"But if you're the famous betrayer, why are you here? Are you—"
"We've been working together for a long time," Moblit repeated. "I trust Hange's judgement."
"I have an exceptional talent of picking out bullshit. And," Hange grinned, the curl of her lips just this side of being feral. "I'm a master of reaping fingernails out."
Onyakopon promptly chocked on the tea he was drinking. Sending her the most disappointing of his looks, Moblit jumped out from his seat to help the other man to cough it all out. His panicked face did awake a bit of shame in Hange.
"It was a joke," she hurried to assure.
"A very bad one," Moblit grumbled, softly patting Onyakopon on the back.
"I see nothing has changed about you, Hange," after returning his breathing under control, Onyakopon raised his eyes, giving her a joyful smile.
Hange wasn't sure if his words held any truth, personally, she hadn't felt like her happy, curious and driven self from years ago, but, nevertheless, she answered his smile with the one of her own.
"Now, let's talk about you," Moblit returned to his place, sitting down on the opposite side from Onyakopon. His back was straight, his expression relaxed but solemn. He grew, Hange noted absentmindedly. He was no longer that timid, shy man she had met all these years ago. "Do you know what happened with Yelena?"
"I understand that she is in the same boat as I am right now."
"Not quite," Moblit retorted. "We've recently found out that she has been talking with Eren behind our backs."
Onyakopon put the cup down, his hands a little more unsteady than Hange remembered them to be. "I... didn't know about any of this. Do you know what they were discussing?"
"Commander Pixis and the others are attempting to make sense of it as we speak."
"And in the meantime you decided to interrogate me." Onyakopon's demeanor changed, his eyes flashing. "Have I not done enough, Moblit? For you and for the people of Eldia? Haven't we helped you enough? And yet, you still don't trust me. You come here with—" his gaze shifted to Hange, but whatever Onyakopon wanted to say didn't leave his mouth, Moblit's hardened expression stopping him.
"You know how hard it is to earn trust," Moblit spoke calmly. "Especially now. Personally, I don't think that you're involved in Yelena's dealings. But I have to make sure of it. Wouldn't you do the same, if you were in my position?"
"Besides," Hange chimed in, "Even Eren is imprisoned. Do you really blame them for not trusting foreigners?"
Onyakopon took his time before answering. His jaw clenched, as he fixed his gaze on the wooden surface of the table.
"Maybe, you're right," he said at last. At his admission, Moblit relaxed. But Hange knew that Onyakopon wasn't finished yet. "But I risked my life to help get Eren back. Doesn't that count for something?"
"Yelena took part in that mission as well." Moblit reminded.
"I'm not Yelena." Onyankopon harshly retorted.
Moblit scowled. Onyakopon was glaring back at him, hands crossed on his chest. Hange decided it was time to intervene once more.
"Are we thinking of the same Yelena?" she interrupted their staring contest, easing the air around both men. "Tall, blonde and absolutely crazy?"
Not taking his eyes of Onyakopon, Moblit nodded. "She also has a strange obsession with Yeager brothers."
"Ah," yeah, Hange knew her. How could she not? Yelena was... "A lovely girl. Even I get chills from her. I doubt that Pixis would be able to get something out of her."
"That what worries me," Moblit confessed, rubbing his temples. The gesture was familiar to Hange - Moblit always suffered from headaches when under stress. "The Queen is coming back soon. If we don't secure the capital..."
"Historia is coming back?" Hange wasn't aware of it. When she asked Sasha about a little girl that once was called Christa and then grew up to become a Queen, Sasha said that she was also getting ready to become a mother. Was bringing her to the capital a good call then? With everything in such state of disarray?
"It was her decision, not ours," Moblit explained. "When the Queen learned what is going in, she deemed it necessary to intervene."
"Hopefully, the Queen is loved more than Eren Yeager."
Yeah, that would be the best case scenario. For everyone - even Marleyans - involved.
"In these uncertain times..." Moblit hanged his head with a deep, weary sigh. "Hope is all we have. Thank you for your time, Onyakopon. We'll be heading back now."
Having said that, he stood up. Hange meant to follow his suit, but at the last moment, Onyakopon stopped her, catching her sleeve between his fingers.
"About what happened in Liberio," he stiffly began. "Marley destroyed my hometown," Hange solemnly nodded. She was forced to take part in that particular operation. She hated every second of it. "I can't and I won't forgive them for that. But..." his voice softened, his thumb rubbed comforting circles around her pulse point. "Liberio was your home as well. So I know what you're going through."
Taken by surprise, Hange blinked a couple of times, gawking at Onyakopon. She expected anger from him. In the worst case - pity. But he offered her only his understanding. She was grateful for that.
“Goodbye, Onyankopon,” she smiled sweetly.
“Hopefully, that wouldn’t be our last meeting.”
Hange could very well agree on that.
___
When they were back in Sina, the sun was already setting, painting the streets and buildings into shades of orange, red and pink. While walking through the town, Hange was once again reminded of how beautiful it truly was. The abundance of trees and flower bushes, the shiny cobblestone and petite houses added to its charm, making Sina look almost magical.
“Pretty as a picture,” Hange had once called it, during a walk through the town with Levi by her side. Her fascination, that careless mishap almost got her lie uncovered.
“You look like you’re seeing it for the first time, four-eyes,” Levi had thrown that line carelessly, but his had narrowed ever so slightly and his frown had deepened. “Didn’t you say that you have grown up in the city?”
In that moment, Hange had almost started panicking. She could almost see it too – Levi finding out the truth, Levi dragging her to Erwin, Erwin getting everything he could out of her, him, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Nifa, Keiji, Abel, Levi and countless of others feeling disappointed and betrayed. The story would have ended with her standing on the gallows.
Perhaps, this end would have been more merciful. But that day, her joyful, only slightly forced laughter and a meaningless ‘Don’t you know me, Levi? I always have my head up in the clouds?’ had saved her from the early demise. And doomed her to many years of torture, heartache and self-hatred.
“Hey,” a gentle hand on her elbow broke her out of the internal misery. Hange looked up, meeting Moblit’s hazel eyes. “It will take some time until we reach the headquarters. Can we talk in the meanwhile?”
“Sure,” she shrugged. “What do you wish to talk about?”
“I actually want to ask a question. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but…” Moblit trailed off for a moment, pressing his lips in a line. Hange smiled faintly, she knew that expression too – he always wore it when he was contemplating his next move. As soon as his mind was set, it vanished, the usual kind face returning. “I would like to know why… you came here in the first place.”
That was it? Hange almost exhaled with relief. She thought he was going to ask something truly awful.
“Didn’t I tell you already? Just like Hoover, Leonhart, Braun and Galliard, I was sent to retrieve the Founding Titan.”
“But you didn’t do it. You had countless opportunities to take Eren from us, and you never acted on any of them. So why did you really come here?”
That was… a question more complicated than Hange was ready for. She didn’t know what to tell Moblit, how much she was willing to share. She had never talked about this, not to a single soul. Her comrades and friends from Marley would never understand her anyway. But Moblit wasn’t Marleyan, he didn’t possess the same mentality. Perhaps, he wouldn’t judge her. Hange was counting on that.
Without another second spent on doubt, she began her tale,
“My father was a hero – a soldier, brilliant tactician, an even better politician. He was resolute, fearsome and absolutely merciless to his enemies. No surprise that many considered him to be an ideal Marleyan citizen. And I was his only child. Naturally, everyone expected me to be as brilliant as him. I began my training at the age of five, and by the age of twelve I was already a perfect soldier. However, that’s not who I wanted to be. I wanted to explore the world, to travel to distant lands, but as the child of my father, I had my whole life controlled by him, and then, when he passed away, by the expectations everyone had for me.”
Taking a pause, Hange chanced a look at Moblit, expecting him to be disgusted or annoyed by her whining. She had everything given to her on a plate, a bright future guarantied, and she still yearned for something more. It was pathetic, wasn’t it? She was pathetic. However, Moblit… didn’t seem to share that opinion. At least, his face didn’t show the signs of it. Instead of the outrage Hange had expected to see, she was met with sympathy.
It made the pain in her chest grew tenfold.
Nevertheless, she forced herself to continue.
“I could never decide for myself, my whole life was controlled by my father’s legacy. I wanted to break free of it, by whatever means necessary. So when I heard about the mission to retrieve the Founding Titan, I latched onto that chance, convincing the brass to send me there with the kids. But I’ve arrived earlier than them, and we got separated. And so… I decided to use that time to do what I always wanted. To study and explore.”
It was the most brilliant of her adventures. She loathed being a soldier and having to kill countless enemies of Marley. But there was no war at Paradis. The only enemies were Titans, and as much as Hange felt for their struggle, she managed to convince herself that she was killing them for their own good. That she was freeing them from their never-ending curse.
“No one knew me here, and I could be whoever I wanted to. And I liked being Squad Leader Hange, because Squad Leader Hange was allowed to be as weird and curious as I wanted. People here accepted me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I found the place where I belonged.”
Of course, that wasn’t true, a mere fantasy, a delusion on her part. She was a Marleyan, a child of the man who condemned thousands of Eldians. She had no place in their world. And yet, Hange was happy. It was the bitter truth she was afraid to admit for so long - she loved the persona of Squad Leader Hange. So much more than the persona of the Professor and war engineer, Hange Zoe.
But nothing could last forever. And when the time has come to return to Marley, Hange was devastated. She lost herself in playing her own game.
“That’s it, I guess,” she said, rolling her shoulders. Looking up, she saw they were almost by the stables where they left their horses in the morning. So deep inside her own head, she failed to notice how much time had passed. “I ran away because I was sick of my life back home. And I spent five years pretending to be someone else.”
“Were you really?” Moblit watched her, his gaze inquisitive. “Were you really pretending to be someone else, Hange-san? Or did you finally allow yourself to release your true self?”
That was… a scary statement. And much more loaded than Hange could deal with in that moment.
“I could be wrong, though,” Moblit shot her an innocent smile. Hange cursed under her breath, a true devil, that’s what he was. Getting her to admit to so much of her insecurities, Moblit surely had a talent for it. And to think he asked her to help him with interrogation. He seemed to be pretty adept at it himself.
“Stay here, I’ll bring our horses,” he started walking in the direction of the stables, but at the last moment turned away, and, meeting Hange’s eyes, added, “I’m glad that you took that mission, Hange-san. And I’m glad that I got to meet the real you. All of us are.”
Hange snorted, watching Moblit go. Perhaps, her father was right about something. Devils, all of them were. How else to explain the ease with which they wormed their way into her heart?
Her shoulders dropped as soon as Moblit had disappeared from her view, and she turned to stare at the setting sun. Certainly, it was one hell of a draining conversation.
But as her thoughts were still scattered in disarray, her heart felt so much lighter. She never shared this part of her with anyone, was afraid to admit it even to herself. But now she was glad she had finally done it. Perhaps, she should have done it a long time ago. Her life could have been easier then, the amount of regrets considerably lesser.
She swept her gaze around the plaza Moblit left her at. With the day coming to an end, not a lot of people were there. As far as Hange could see, the only ones still present were a happy mother with a two children, who were feeding the pigeons on the bench at the far side of the plaza, an elderly couple, and—
And a girl that sat at the edge of the fountain. The short stature, slumped shoulders, that luscious long black hair were familiar to the point of setting Hange's heart ablaze.
She couldn't see the face, was afraid to, but even so, Hange denied what her eyes saw. Surely, it was her imagination, her mind conjuring things that weren't there. This girl, she was—
A shadow, fathom. It couldn't be— it couldn't be her. Even the possibility of it was raising the hairs at the back of Hange's neck.
It wasn't Pieck, just a random girl. Hange was wrong, simply seeing things. Those familiar traits belonged to someone else. Pieck wasn't here, in Paradis, Pieck couldn't be—
"Hange?" she jumped, and whirled around so swiftly her head went dizzy. Before her stood Moblit, his eyebrows knitted together worriedly. "Everything alright?"
She exhaled with relief. "Peachy," she answered with a smile she didn't feel. Her eyes shifted from one side of plaza to the other, searching for the figure she had seen. But like all shadows do, she simply vanished.
"I brought our horses," Moblit gestured for her to follow him. Hange did, not looking back even once.
Even so, she felt someone's gaze burning into her back all the way to the headquarters.
___
"Sorry," Moblit stood at the threshold of her room, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I need to report to Zacklay and Pixis."
His expression was nearly apologetic. Hange patted his shoulder, touched by his not so subtle concern. "Stop worrying so much, Mob. Nothing would happen if you leave me for one evening."
Moblit kept frowning, looking as unconvinced as ever. "I'll tell Sasha and Connie to bring you dinner,” he nodded to himself. “And if you need anything, just tell the guard to call for me."
"Alright, alright. Now go!" Hange gave him a forceful push. "And make me proud!"
She didn't get an answer out of him, but she did see a faint blush appear on his cheeks. That was enough for Hange to chuckle victoriously.
Once Moblit had disappeared around the corner, Hange shoved the door closed and leaned against it. It was an exhausting, eventful day. She wanted nothing more than to rest. She headed towards the bed to fulfill that exact goal.
But no sooner than she had seated down, she heard the knock on the door. Albeit quietly, it was repeated three more times.
Sighing, Hange stood up again and walked back to the door. She swung it open, expecting to see Sasha and Connie. She was hoping to get a warm meal inside while gossiping with the two teenagers. A second later, the door stood open. And Hange's throat was closed up.
On the other side of the threshold— there was no Sasha, no Connie. Only Pieck.
And so the shadow finally took form.
Pieck was dressed similarly to her, in the dark green uniform. Her hair was gathered in a low ponytail, a smile was playing on her lips. The subtle differences in her attire only added to the sense of disbelief.
At the sight of her lovely face, all air left Hange's lungs. She desperately tried to take a breath, opening and closing her mouth rapidly. She wasn’t sure for how long she would have continued gaping like a fish fresh out of the water hadn't Pieck taken the matters in her own hands.
"It's been a while, Hange," as always, she spoke in a quiet, sugary sweet voice. Usually it calmed Hange down. Now it was sending shivers down her spine. "Aren't you happy to see me?"
"Pieck," Hange meant to sound leveled, controlled. But even a single word came out shaky and unsure. "Pieck," she tried again, this time with more success. "What are you doing here?"
Pushing past Hange, Pieck walked inside the room, heavily sliding down on a chair. "Serving my country. Something you have forgotten about."
Pieck stared straight at her, hands folded in her lap, a picture of friendliness and innocence. But the smile Hange always found so endearing, now seemed almost chilling.
"Tell me, Hange, is this the part of your plan? Have you decided to use your old history with these people to destroy them from the inside? Or," Pieck paused, tilting her head to one side. She didn't look angry, or disappointed. If anything, she seemed simply curious. But the atmosphere in the room was tense, air electrified with trepidation. Hange knew Pieck all too well, she knew how dangerous the shifter girl could be. "Have you already forgotten what they did in Liberio, in our city? How they destroyed it? How killed thousands of men, women and children? These monsters almost killed Reiner, Porco," her voice wavered at the names of her dear comrades. But even then, she didn’t drop the unassuming façade. "And do you know what happened to Udo and Zophia? Have you seen what become of them?"
Stunned, Hange could only stare at Pieck. The words left her, her mind unable to come up with anything she could have used to explain herself.
Indifferent to Hange’s internal struggle, Pieck continued.
"Do you even care, Hange? About Marley, about us?"
"Of course, I do." How Pieck could even doubt that? Udo and Zophia, those bright, adorable children Hange couldn't quite imagine them being gone. "Pieck, you misunderstand, I've been captured, I'm not—"
"Don't make me laugh." Pieck interrupted curtly. "You have your own room, you walk freely through the town, you wear their uniform. Is this how they treat all of their prisoners? Awfully kind of them then, considering the monstrosities these devils committed."
"Pieck, listen—"
Pieck didn't want to.
"You always were a strange one, Hange," gracefully, the girl stood up, taking a step closer. With her hands behind her back, she started pacing, circling around Hange. "I could never understand what was going on inside your head. I still can't. But, naively, I thought that I knew you. That after years of fighting side by side, we grew close enough. And after the disaster at Liberio," she picked up a sheet of paper from Hange's desk, gave it a quick once over before disregarding it in favor of focusing her eyes on Hange once more. "I kept looking for you. I was so afraid to find your body under a fallen building or see you with a hole in the head. But you were nowhere to be found. Everyone was worried sick, the brass was livid - the devils from Paradis killed the Warhammer, took our Beast and now our brightest mind was missing as well. And then I remembered what I have seen during the fight. A short man approaching you, the same one who nearly killed Zeke, that Ackerman. I thought he had captured you, I thought you needed saving. Seems like I was wrong about that, huh?”
Even now, Pieck was keeping her calm. Despite the harsh accusations, her voice remained gentle, almost soothing. The smile was still in place, and her head was tilted up, peering into Hange’s eyes.
Hange did everything she could to escape that unsettling gaze.
“I also came to because I needed you,” Pieck continued. “I thought you would help me with my mission.”
Would she? Should she? Hange didn’t know. She knew what Professor Hange Zoe would have done. She knew what Squad Leader Hange would have done.
But what would she do?
“I guess it doesn’t matter. Whether you help us or not, the outcome will be the same. Paradis will fall, Hange. Consider it my only warning. If you wish to witness its demise alongside these devils, I won't stop you. But," without looking at Hange, Pieck laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "If your decision ever changes, I'll be happy to fight by your side."
After that, Pieck left the room, closing the door softly on her way out. Hange, however, didn’t move, remaining frozen in one place, too stunned to follow after Pieck and demand a more thorough explanation.
However... what was there to explain? Paradis will fall. Plain and simple.
Right now, Hange couldn't quite believe it, although she was supposed to expect it. What could possibly happen to that little island after Eren's desperate rampage? But even before that, Paradis was already doomed. The events that transpired at Shiganshina proved to the outside world just how dangerous the Eldians could be. And Shiganshina was simply a plant that had grown out of the seed of Grisha Yeager's crimes.
There was no hope for Paradis. There never was.
Paradis will fall.
What could she do to save it? Could she do something, anything at all? Could she help them, expose her nation's plans? Could she betray her motherland like that? If she shared the truth with people of Paradis, would they even believe her? Would her people forgive her?
Hange didn't know. Her mind was in frenzy, her thoughts flying from one horrible outcome to the other. It was in that catatonic state that Sasha and Connie found her.
"Hange-san? Is everything alright?"
Hange looked up, meeting their bewildered gazes. In that moment she realized - she didn't want these kids to die. She didn't want for them to suffer any more than they've already done. And the others - Moblit, Levi - Hange couldn't bear the thought of them in harm. But—
She didn't want for her fellow countrymen to die as well.
Fuck. Why was everything so hard these days, why it was so damn complicated? When would her heart stop tearing into two pieces? Why was everything out of her control?
It was always an issue of hers, the lack of control. This time was no different. Caught between crossfires, Hange didn't know which side to choose. Perhaps then... she shouldn't choose at all.
Perhaps, she should take the back seat. Let everything transpire the way it was supposed to be. Let them fight, let someone win.
And so, with a heavy heart and troubled consciousness, Hange came to a decision. She would not alert Paradis about the threat hanging over them. She would not help Marley in their fight.
But there was another side to all of this. Another warning, another trouble that couldn’t be ignored.
There was a danger of Marley invasion, but equally disturbing was the events transpiring inside the Walls. Something was brewing, a storm ready to swipe everyone in its path. And Hange had a nasty feeling that at the center of it, two figures stood – Yeager brothers.
Nothing could be done about Eren, Hange had doubts that even his closest friends had a single clue of what was going inside the boy’s head, what dangerous ideas were forming there. But Zeke, Hange knew how to deal with Zeke. She also knew someone who could deal with him in the most efficient way.
She didn’t know what Zeke was planning. But she was confident that Levi would be able to find out.
She just needed to give him a little push.
“Sasha,” Hange smiled at the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “If you would be so kind, tell Moblit to visit me before he retires for the night.”
Moblit had mentioned that he was corresponding with Levi. The time has come to use this detail to her and the world’s advantage.
The world as they knew was changing, perhaps, it was already at the brink of collapse, horrible destruction. What did Moblit say? In these uncertain times, hope is all we have?
In that case, her only hope was Levi.
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liloelsagranger · 3 years
Text
Nightshift - Chapter 3 (finally, Rocketshipping)
My dear friends, it took me so long to update my fanfictions, but you all know the reasons why. But, let’s not talk about the struggles that life gives you, let’s read about Jessie and James and how they get closer.... Chapter 3:
James went all out in his new role as a waiter. He served the few guests who presented themselves hungrily on the diner’s doorstep, mixed the most delicious milkshakes Jessie had ever tasted, and his talent for mental arithmetic left even Eddy speechless. Some of the visitors eyed the young man sceptically. They weren’t used to so much motivation and drive. Most of the time they looked through a veil of inertia and hopelessness, but James brought life to the place. He was extremely accommodating and friendly, had a smile ready for every guest and talked to the visitors as if they were old friends. Jessie couldn’t get out of her amazement. She hadn’t experienced such a relaxed atmosphere in months, not since Butch and Cassidy had been watching her warily, hoping only for financial disaster. Eddy was pleased whenever Jessie’s mood lightened. He knew her tragic story all too well to wish her all the happiness in the world. She didn’t have an easy childhood, got into trouble as a teenager and struggled as a grown woman. Constantly putting her foot in her mouth, constantly being taken advantage of and bullied from top to bottom, constantly being told how useless she was in this world. But now the tragedy seemed to take a turn, this guy James had taken a fancy to her. Eddy watched Jessie as she couldn’t take her eyes off the new waiter, she was almost magically drawn to his refined manner.
“I hate to interrupt your daydreaming, but I think we have a little problem,” Eddy’s gaze wandered to a small table in the corner of the restaurant. A rather upset woman was banging on the table with all her might, standing up angrily and slinging her purse around her shoulders.
“I’ve told you many times, Brock! Leave me alone with your pathetic hit ons. You’re not my type! You and me, it’s never going to happen! Let me through, please,” she snorted disdainfully and hurriedly left the diner. Brock was left behind, looking pretty miserable. He hung his head low, sobbed heartbreakingly to himself and dragged himself to his friend’s table.
James was visibly taken aback by this little incident, but when he looked towards Jessie, she merely rolled her eyes and tried to hide a smile. Were Brock’s rejections perhaps the order of the day? Was he a hopeless romantic in search of true love?
James approached the disappointed young man and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Someday you will find the right woman who accepts you as you are, with all your rough edges,” James wanted to encourage him, but Brock didn’t seem to be listening. He sobbed again and buried his face in his hands.
“It’s hopeless, no one loves me. I will die alone and completely isolated from society.”
Jessie couldn’t stand by and watch the drama any longer. She threw her cleaning rag on the counter, made her way through the guests, and without waring hopped onto the table right in front of Brock. This performance alone triggered long-forgotten feelings in James. He felt so attracted by Jessie’s though nature that he had to pull himself together no to weaken. What followed made his heart throb and almost break. Jessie spoke from his soul. She bent down to Brock and unconsciously opened up to each of the guests present her deepest desires that she had suppressed for so long. She cleared her throat.
“Let me tell you this, Brock! Ture love takes time. From childhood you will be involved in relationships that will tear you apart and make you despair. First, your parents abandon you, arguably the most important ratio a young thing like me would have needed. Suddenly you are on your own, struggling with the corrupt customs of society and still trying to fit in and please your social environment. Then one day you wake up and feel you were born to be a rebel. You have not been able to build up trust for a long time, your previous acquaintances have thoroughly spoiled your belief in the good in people. You become bitter, disappointed and have hatred for this world and its inhabitants. The word love becomes anathema for you, you would rather be alone than in bad company. This becomes your motto in life. You fight your way through, you are betrayed, robbed, exploited, and chased away, and yet every shitty day you adjust your crown and carry on. But then,” her gaze fell on James for a split second, “someone enters the door of your diner, metaphorically speaking, and with them comes that sense of comfort and well-being you’ve been missing for years. This person makes you think happy thoughts, ensnares you just by his presence, you feel attracted, you want to breath in this person, love and live him, you forget the infamies of the past and can start a new phase of life. This person helps you to gain self-esteem, he can put back together the shards of your broken heart, support you and give you the love you have never felt. Yes, such a person exists for everyone in this world, even though I’ve never met him. What I wanted to tell you with this monologue, don’t give up! Love finds its way! Even if it sounds corny. So stop banging all over my expensive furniture and act like a man!” She smiled at Brock before turning back to her mountain of dirty plates.
James was moved to tears. What would he have given to take Jessie in his arms now, to hug her until she could shake off all her terrible experiences? But there were other feelings at play. He felt aroused, so aroused that he would have loved to cup Jessie’s face and kiss her. He wanted to caress her mouth, taste her lips, let his tongue melt into hers.
“Get a grip, James,” he shushed himself. Somewhat ashamed of these lustful thoughts, he tried to hide is excitement as best he could and got back to work. Jessie’s words would haunt him for a long time.
Late in the evening, when all the guests had left the diner and Eddy was dismissed by Jessie with the words “I’ve found a new victim”, she and James were faced with an almost impregnable mountain of glasses, silverware, plates and leftover food.
“Let’s get to work! Do you mind if I listen to some music? It helps me recover from the stress of everyday life,” Jessie pointed to the old jukebox in the far corner of the diner.“Go ahead!” James nodded at her and stole a small smile from Jessie’s lips. He couldn’t guess her taste in music, but when the first notes of “Baby I don’t care” by Transvision Vamp sounded, he was all the more on fire for his supervisor.
There was eager cleaning, sweeping, boning, washing up and drying. It was necessary to scrub the floor, wipe down the tables, clean up the ketchup and mayo bottles that were scattered all over the place, but the time flew by. Jessie sang along to her favourite song, and to James’ amazement, she danced and lolloped in beat to the tune.
“Careful, James. Don’t let your eyes fall out of your head,” she grinned mischievously and threw a handful of wash-off foam at her coworker. James reacted with surprise at her perky behaviour, but promptly retaliated with a sponge fight until they were both soaked down to their underwear. They laughed and snorted when the other could no longer open his mouth full with foam. They kept each other from splashing the other wet, but soon James had to admit defeat. He had no chance against Jessie.
“I surrender, Jessie,” he laughed, “please, have mercy.” Jessie knelt over him and grinned widely. “Okay, whatever you say. I’ll get you some dry clothes,” she disappeared into the storage room for a brief moment, bringing James old jeans and a tattered shirt. Actually, she didn’t want to watch him change, but her eyes kept slipping to his naked torso. James was slim and was in good shape. She could not take her eyes off his strong arms – and his scars. Long, deep scars stood out on his skin. Some of them seemed to have been disfiguring his appearance for a long time, others looked fresh, as if he had escaped an ordeal by a hair’s breadth, which nevertheless left its mark. It was on the tip of her tongue, she wanted to ask him about the reason for these ugly marks, but she held back.
James felt her gaze on his body. It was extremely uncomfortable for him to show himself to her so hurtfully, so he dismissed everything with a broad smile.
“Would you like another milkshake before we close?” he offered her. Jessie nodded and James prepared her a creamy treat topped with fruits and a sweet ingredient she hadn’t guessed until now.
“Do you think we can put your ideas into practice and turn this dump into a respectable place?” she expressed her concerns. James reached for her hands.
“To be honest with you, there are masses of things to do here. The walls need a new coat of paint, the menu needs updating, we need a slogan and we need to drum up publicity. We need financial security, and we can’t have everyone writing in, but I also understand that you want to help people and I think that’s just wonderful, just like you helped me. I promise you that we will get this all done in no time, and I will stand energetically by your and Eddy’s side to get the store up and running. I can get the materials; we’ll do the work ourselves and in a week you can plan the reopening.”
His words were soaked in hope. Jessie could see perfectly well how she could make her place shine again. New curtains, peppy patterns, bright colors, just the way she liked it. James, who was a stranger just a few days ago, could make her dream of owning a noble restaurant come true. He really was a very special person. Quiet and introverted, but at the same time looking for adventure, courageous and creative. She had to admit that she felt a soft tingling deep in her stomach, that sometimes she was out of breath when she was near him, but maybe those were just misleading signs.
“You know, James. No one has ever given me such hope as you. The last men I met were self-centred, conceited bastards who demanded everything from me, and I do mean everything, just to cheat on me with the next best curb-crawler. You’re different, you’re almost a gentleman compared to those bullies. You are so respectful and decent, one could just fall in love with you,” she blushed, completely embarrassed of the words she just said.
James was also quite abashed. “Jessie, thank you. Thank you for being so open with me, I’m just a stranger in this world after all. I’m glad I met you and I’m looking forward to our project together. No matter what happened, sometimes you have to leave the past behind, even if it keeps knocking. Just lock the door and let’s change the lock. I’ll try to support you as best as I can.”
He glanced nervously at his watch. It was after midnight, he would reap blows again for this.“I have to go now, unfortunately, but I wanted to ask you one more thing. Do you want to…” he took a deep breath. “No, forget it, never mind.”
James turned on his heel, but Jessie held him back.
“Go on a date with you? I’d love to, James.” She smiled at him.
“Friday’s a day off. How about 8 pm at the pizza place at the end of the strip?”
“Sounds great! Good night, James.”
@3nyasu3  @diehardrocketshipper @rocketshippingsblastingoffagain @rocketshippingassbutt @jessicarocket @estrelatzia @teamrocketshipping @musashi @james-team-rocket @brilliancetheory @madladmusician @in-correctteamrocketquotes @k-rocket-k @buchichu @masterstarpikachu @rocketmonsters
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fiction-boys-rule · 3 years
Text
Imagine...being single on Valentines Day and the Leverage team set you up on a date with Eliot.
Pairing: Eliot/(Y/N)
Warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff
Word Count: 4,615
Second post this week, I’m on a roll! Been feeling Eliot very much, and once this idea came into my head, I had to write it. Happy Valentines Day, and remember you can celebrate any and all forms of love. Hope you enjoy :)
As you open the door, you are blinded with red. Literally. Bright red decorations hanging across the ceiling, roses on every blank surface, balloons taking up the space the furniture doesn’t, and varied pastries and snacks themed with pink or red. 
“What the hell?” You mumble, walking slowly into the apartment. 
You close the door softly and run your fingertips over the rose petals of a bouquet. Then it hits you. 
Today’s the 14th. February. Valentine's Day. Oh no.
You should have stayed home instead of offering to work the pub today. 
’Why did you have to be so nice? Did Nate even say thank you?’ You reprimand yourself. 
“Ah, finally, you’re here.” Sophie says.
You turn and see her standing by the couch, wearing a stunning red dress and gazing at you with an eager look. You’re getting a bad feeling about whatever is going on. 
“Hi?”
“I apologize for Parker’s antics. She seems to have taken advantage of Nate’s approval. This is all a bit over the top, isn’t it?”
You stare at her with what must be a confused and lost look because she just smiles and motions for you to sit on the couch. You walk over reluctantly and sit, fidgeting uncomfortably. She sits and smiles, taking your hand in hers.
“I am very proud of who you have become while being with us. We don’t say if often, but we do appreciate you. Nate also appreciates you. Though he can’t seem to get it through his thick skull how much he needs you. I trust you very much and I know you won’t let me down. You look lovely today, by the way.”
You look down after trying to process her vague statements and suddenly curse yourself for listening to stupid Nate’s ‘recommendation/mandatory orders’.
‘Wear red. Go with the theme of today.’, his text had read.
You hadn’t really known what he had meant and since you weren’t exactly one to look forward to this holiday, the ‘theme’ he had mentioned had gone completely over your head. You had picked a simple dark red dress that had your specific likings, down to the length and skin it showed that made you infinitely comfortable and confident in it. It even has pockets!
“Uh, thanks? You look good too. But I’m kind of confused with-”
“Don’t you worry, darling. You will do great. I know you will. Now all you have to do is trust the process and be true to yourself. Be confident in the way I know you are. Don’t hold back and be honest about your feelings. Fear holds us back. Don’t let it control you.”
“Okay? But Sophie-”
“Ah ah, it will be fine. All will be explained soon enough. Don’t let me down, darling.”
She kisses your cheek and suddenly stands. You try to walk but she holds a finger up as she walks to the door. She opens it and the rest of the team are standing on the other side. They walk in, staring at you. 
‘What the hell is going on?’ you think.
Parker and Hardison have curious looks on their faces and Nate looks smug as ever.
“We’re all going out tonight on our own little adventures as pairs but don’t worry, you’re not missing out on anything. We’re all counting on you.”
“Sophie, what the hell-”
“Hardison, when I told you to grab a box, it wasn’t a suggestion!”
You hear Eliot yelling before he comes into view. He stops walking and glances around the room.
“You weren’t kidding about the party. Where are you going?”
He looks over at the four of them and they just smirk at him. It all happens so quick. Parker and Hardison grab him, pulling him into the apartment. He struggles to resist with the boxes in his hand. All of a sudden, the door is closed and a lock clicks. 
“First drawer on the left below the TV!” Parker yells.
You hear them burst into laughter and their footsteps fade.
Eliot stares at the door a moment before turning back to you. His face matches your thoughts: ‘What the hell just happened?’
“Did you have anythin’ to do with this?” he grumbles, setting the box down.
“No! I was just supposed to come for my shift today but then Nate told me to come upstairs first. What did they tell you?”
“They just said there was a mandatory team meeting today and to bring boxes in from the van. What the hell is goin’ on?”
You walk over to the TV and open the drawer Parker had mentioned. Eliot walks over and you see an envelope with hearts all over it addressed to Eliot and you. Well, at least that’s what you think it means. It only says: To the Two Lovebirds, Love Sophie & Parker.
You frown over at Eliot and find him giving you the same look.
“I don’t have the patience for their little jokes today, man.” he grumbles, going and sitting on the couch.
You open the envelope and start reading the letter inside.
“You both must be very confused about what’s going on, but trust all will be explained soon. We have big plans for you both today and wish you well on your journey of love. Don’t let us down.”
“Are they playin’ cupid or somethin’?”
“Um, I think so. It says we have to stay the whole day in here and if we try to escape we’ll face the consequences.”
“What the hell is this? I ain’t a hostage!”
“Don’t try to break the door down. If you do, you’ll owe Hardison a new van because that’s how much that high security door cost. We are watching your every move, so don’t do anything you don’t want us to see. We can hear and see everything. Have fun and if you succeed, feelings will be revealed and a happy ending will be your reward.”
“Happy ending?”
You suddenly realize what Sophie means and your stomach drops. Why did you ever tell her about your stupid crush on Eliot? Why is she so confident he’ll like you back? She is literally going to make you be so embarrassed and get rejected in the worst way possible: being stuck in an apartment with him and working with him. You could strangle her right now.
“Um, Eliot?”
“Man, I just wanted a cold beer today and to maybe cook a nice meal.”
“Eliot?”
“I’m goin’ to kill Hardison when I see him. I’m goin’ to hit him so hard his ancestors hurt!”
“Um, Eliot?”
“What?”
“I think we just got set up on a date by the team.”
Two Weeks Earlier…
“Really?” Parker exclaims.
“I’m telling you, it’s a great idea. They both like each other, we will just push the natural cycle of love a little faster. Who are we to get in the way of love?”
“What are you two up to now?” Nate grumbles, walking into the apartment.
“Do you think Eliot likes Y/N?” Parker asks.
Nate stops walking and almost chokes on his drink.
“What?”
“Oh come on, Nate. Haven’t you seen the way he looks at her? How he treats her? She’s the only woman in his world. But they’re both stubborn and afraid to make a move. I just want to move it along.”
“Well, what if they don’t? You can’t be sure-”
“Well I know she does. But you know her. She’s never going to tell him. We have to do something, Nate.”
“Sophie, can you just take a back seat for once? Let the man build up the courage. I mean come on, we never wanted dating to be a thing in the team.”
“Yeah and look what happened.” Hardison mumbles, tinkering with his new system.
Nate rubs his face, sitting down.
“Unplanned things happen. Look, maybe they like being single, or they aren’t ready-”
“Well, why don’t we find out?” Sophie interrupts.
“What? How? Eliot is never going to tell you.”
“Well, I know Y/N has feelings for him. I also know he would never lie to her.”
“Here we go.” Nate mumbles, leaning back on the couch with an annoyed look on his face.
“We cannot let both of them be single and unacquainted with their love for each other! That is a tragedy! We have to do something! Aren’t we their friends?”
“And how would we do that?” Hardison mumbles.
“What do we get out of it, Sophie? Another couple in the team and more risk. Maybe Eliot and her losing their focus. I can’t have that. We can’t have that.”
“A bet, perhaps?” Sophie smiles.
“A bet?” Hardison asks.
“That way we all have something to gain from this.”
Nate grumbles, shaking his head.
“Parker and me will bet on their love succeeding.” Sophie says.
“I am very confident in this little scheme of yours failing.” Nate says.
“Hardison?”
“I'm going to go with Nate for this one. Eliot doesn’t seem like the type to hold back his stupid charm.”Hardison says.
“Alright. What are each of you willing to lose as punishment for losing the bet?”
“I’ve always wanted to see what you store in that little storage unit of yours.” Nate says.
“My prized possessions?”
“Yeah, and if you lose, Hardison and me get to each take five things from it.”
“Five?” Sophie exclaims.
“If you’re that confident in the power of love.” Nate says.
“Fine. Alright, I can do that. What about you, Parker?”
“I think she shouldn’t be allowed to sleep with her bunny for a month.” Hardison smirks.
“A month? Without my bunny?” Parker whines.
“Or any other stuffed animal you have.”
“Trust the process, Parker.” Sophie mumbles to her.
She looks over to her and sighs, nodding reluctantly.
Hardison smirks, continuing his tinkering.
Parker looks at his system and smirks evilly, “I want to be able to play games on your new system for a month.”
He whips around and glares at her.
“What? On the new system? This took me six months to make!”
“Well, you’re so confident, right?” Sophie says.
He looks between them, panicking.
“But, but I just-”
“Are you going to do it or not?”
He sighs, looking back at his system.
“Fine. But can there be a time limit per day? It overheats, and-”
“Fine, two hours.” Sophie says, smiling at a frustrated Hardison.
“Fine! Fine. But if you break it-”
“What about you, Nate?” Sophie and the rest of them look over at him. 
“He has to stop drinking for a month!” Parker yells.
“A month?! That’s ridiculous-” Nate protests.
“Oh come on, you’re the one who doesn’t think it will work.” Hardison says.
Nate looks between them before sighing and standing.
“This is ridiculous. A month. A whole month. Alright, okay. You’ve got your deal.”
They all laugh.
“Well, I see many benefits to this little bet.” Sophie says.
“I get to see what you hide away. I need more decoration, anyway. And I think you have great taste, Sophie.” Hardison says.
“I get to play video games and annoy Hardison!” Parker yells cheerily.
“I get to see the beginnings of love.” Sophie says.
“And sober Nate.” Hardison says.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Parker asks. 
Nate grumbles incoherently, opening another bottle and serving himself.
“Oh darling, I forgot to mention that to set the mood, I’m going to have to get decorations, and their favorite meals and pastries.”
“Cake!” Parker yells.
“Yes, and lots of roses, and-”
“Just use my card.” Nate grumbles before slamming his office door shut.
They all burst into laughter, their new plan ready to be set into motion.
Present Time
“I can’t believe this.” you mumble, sitting on the couch next to Eliot.
Part of you feels betrayed by Sophie, but the other part of you feels strangely anxious and excited. She has to have some sort of confidence in him having some sort of interest in you. Right?
“Alright, so now what? We just stay in here all day?” Eliot protests.
“First activity of the day, preparing a meal. Who can nurture love when they are on an empty stomach? Using the ingredients in the fridge provided, prepare a meal to enjoy together and get to know each other more.”
“They better have gotten good stuff and not left a bunch of crap to cook with.”
“Well, at least you get to cook your nice meal?” you ask nervously.
Eliot looks over at you, smiling slightly.
“I guess. And I’ll be honest, you’re the person I’d rather be locked in an apartment with instead of any of the others.”
“They can hear you, you know.”
“I know.” he grumbles.
You laugh, smiling.
“Well, we might as well make the best of our time here. Not like we’re going anywhere. I hope you didn’t have a date planned for later today.” you joke.
“I did, actually.” Eliot says, standing.
Your heart skips a beat and your smile falters. Of course he did. Why were you stupid enough to think he would confess his feelings right away?
“With my couch and a nice cold beer. Can’t get much better than that. Come on. Let’s see what crap they left us.” 
He walks to the kitchen and your smile returns. You walk over and sit on a stool, reading again.
“Before starting, look in a box located to the right of the fridge. In there, you will find two necessary things needed for your cooking.”
You look up from the paper, seeing Eliot looking with disgust at two pink aprons, filled with bright red hearts. One says ‘Hers’, and the other says ‘His’, with arrows pointing at each other. You can’t help but burst out laughing, seeing Sophie’s ridiculous ideas.
“Do we really have to wear these?” he grumbles.
“Yes, unless you want to see what kind of ‘consequences’ they have in mind.”
You take one, putting it on and smiling at Eliot’s obvious level of discomfort.
“Next, begin your cooking and remember, food is best when made and served with love.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eliot opens the fridge and soon forms an idea for a meal. 
You are chopping up vegetables for a salad and your eyes wander over to him as he delicately cuts and cooks the rest of the food. His eyes are meticulous and hands precise. He obviously loves cooking and is great at it.
“Do you cook much?” he suddenly asks.
You continue cutting.
“No, not much. No one ever taught me. You’d be the first. What-”
His arms surround you and his hands go over yours.
“Hold it like this. Less chance of cuttin’ yourself and it’ll be done faster.”
“Oh, okay.” you whisper, following his directions. 
His body warmth comforts your back and you hear low sounds of approval as he watches you do what he told you.
“Good girl.” he praises before going back to the other side of the counter.
Butterflies form in your stomach and you almost cut yourself.
‘Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.’ you think.
Afterwards, he leads you to the very decorated dining table and makes you sit. He sets a bottle of wine down and serves you. He goes back over and serves two plates and brings them over. You almost laugh at the sight of him wearing the apron. He sits down and you mumble a ‘thanks’ before taking a sip of water. He smiles at you and motions for you to take a bite. You do, and you can’t help but nod your head vigorously and have another bite.
“This is so good, Eliot. Oh my gosh.”
“It’s because you helped.”
“Oh, please.” 
You both clink your glasses and have a sip of wine, eating in comfortable silence. 
“I didn’t get to uh, tell you before. You know, with all this stuff. You look good today, Y/N.”
You blush, looking down and hiding your face with your glass but not drinking anything. After a moment, you reluctantly meet his eyes again.
“Uh, thank you. You do too, by the way.”
He smiles and your heart beats faster. After you have eaten and cleaned the kitchen, you grab the paper again. Eliot rips rather hastily at his apron and throws it on a chair. You giggle and watch as he rolls his eyes. You take your apron off too and run a hand through your hair. You sit on the couch and start reading.
“Hopefully your meal has satisfied part of your inner hunger. Now, it is time to play a game. If you tell the truth, there will be no punishment. But if you do not, a punishment awaits. Grab the box below the bar and look in the box for further instruction.”
Eliot grabs it and walks over, sitting beside you. You open it and grab the paper on the top.
“Time for a drinking game. There will be a series of questions you will be asked from a stack of cards labeled with each of your names. Ask the person the question and if they don’t wish to answer, then they have to take a shot.”
You look away from the paper and see the cards set out on the table with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.
“Not my drink of choice, but I’m guessin’ that’s the point.”
“Before you start, there are two accessories needed to play this game. Look in the bottom of the box and once you have put them on, you can start.”
Eliot pulls out two red headbands with bright pink hearts at the top. You laugh loudly, seeing as Eliot’s face scrunches up as he stares at them in his hands.
“I ain’t puttin’ this damn thing on.”
“Oh come on, Eliot! The faster we do this, the faster we can leave! What’s the point of just sitting around and doing nothing? Let’s have some fun. Liven up your wardrobe a little bit.”
“No way in hell.”
“Eliot, do it for me? Please?”
His eyes stare at you with a curious look in them. He is reluctant, but eventually he gives in and puts it on. You try not to laugh at him again as you put yours on.
“There. Matching!” you say happily.
“You look cute, I just look stupid.” he groans.
You blush at his compliment and giggle. He rolls his eyes and hands you your stack of cards.
“Let’s just start.” he mumbles.
The questions start off pretty innocently and at one point, you’re wondering what the whole point was of this game. But suddenly, you’re reminded of Sophie’s wit.
“Have you ever had a crush on a colleague?” Eliot asks.
You blush and quickly look over at your shot glass.
“You’re gonna chicken out now?” he teases.
“No! Okay um, yes.”
“When?”
“It doesn't ask anything besides yes or no! You’re cheating!”
Eliot laughs, making you glare playfully at him.
“Okay, you go next.” he says, taking a drink of his beer.
“Okay, um. What kind of underwear do you wear?”
You burst out laughing as Eliot coughs.
“Are you gonna take a drink?” you ask shyly.
“What, you really want me to give you and the cameras a show? I ain’t lettin’ Hardison see anythin’. He’s already seein’ me wear this stupid thing on my head.”
“Yeah, I think Parker wrote that one.”
Eliot serves his shot and drinks it, grimacing slightly.
“Okay, you next.”
He takes a card and looks between it and you a few times. He clears his throat.
“Uh, what does your dream first date look like?”
You are taken aback by the question and you actually start thinking about it for the first time in a while. Dating hasn’t been a priority for you, especially lately. 
“Well, I like quality time. So going out to eat, or taking a walk somewhere. Showing them something I really like, like my favorite film or talking to them about my favorite book. I think a night in would also be really nice.”
You look up and his eyes have a soft look in them. He smiles slightly and clears his throat as he looks away and sets the card down.
‘Damn it Sophie, your plan is working.’
“Okay, next. What’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent?”
You both burst out laughing at the change of mood. He shakes his head and genuinely looks embarrassed.
“No, absolutely not. Not goin’ there. Give me the damn bottle.”
You are still laughing as he takes the shot.
“Wow, not even a hint. Was it really that dirty?”
“Next question. What don’t you like about me?”
“Nothing.” you answer quickly, watching as his eyes snap up to yours. You curse yourself as you realize you let your thoughts get the best of you.
“Well, um. I mean, I can’t think of anything. Right now. Um, I don’t know you that well, I don’t think.”
He nods and sets the card down. Shit. You didn’t mean to offend him.
“Sorry. I think that’s the shot talking.”
“Yeah, you’ve only had one.”
You both laugh and you appreciate how it lifts the mood of the room.
“Alright. Um, would you ever kiss me?”
Eliot looks at you, a small look of discomfort on his face. His eyes soften, gazing at you.
“Are you going to drink? You can, you know.”
You laugh lightly to fill the uncomfortable silence in the room.
“Yeah, I would.”
“You would?” your heart starts beating faster.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I would.”
You stare at him, starting to smile.
“I think that’s the tequila talking for you.” you smirk.
“I don’t know, maybe.”
You both smile and you look down only to find that your cards are finished.
“Is that it?”
“Guess so. About time. Don’t know how many more shots or damn questions I could handle.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re getting pretty red, Spencer.”
He glares over at you as you bite your lip and hold back a smile. You grab the paper again.
“Congratulations on getting to know each other better. Now there is one last stage of today’s date. In a box in the bathroom, you’ll find accessories to use for your move night. You can eat the snacks throughout the apartment. Enjoy.”
Eliot stands and comes back with a box. You open it and the laughter makes its way out of you before you can stop it. Eliot frowns at you before he looks inside and he suddenly sighs and puts his face in his hands.
“Now you have found your matching onesies for tonight’s movie night. Enjoy your snacks and we hope you are comfortable. Again, we can watch you with the cameras so keep it PG-13.”
You laugh again as you pull them out. Sophie has picked one of your favorite animals and Eliot got a dinosaur onesie.
“Well, let’s go put these on, I guess.”
“They’re lucky I’ve been drinkin’ enough for this.” he grumbles before getting up and taking his onesie with him.
A few minutes later and you have both changed and picked a movie to watch together. All the snacks are on the coffee table and more pillows have been added to the couch. You don’t remember doing that.
“Do you think we’re livin’ up to their expectations?”
He looks funny holding his beer bottle with the top of the onesie over his head. He looks cute. How does he look cute? Oh gosh. You just shrug.
“Maybe. But we’re still here, so I guess.”
He nods slowly and takes another drink of his beer. 
You shiver as the room gets colder and cuddle closer into the pillows. Eliot notices and watches as you struggle to find warmth.
“Damn Hardison must have turned the air conditionin’ on.” he grumbles.
You glare at the cameras, knowing what they’re up to.
“Here.” Eliot hands you a shot and you frown over at him.
“It’ll warm you up. Plus, it’s no fair I’m more buzzed than you are.”
You roll your eyes but take the shot anyway. You clear your throat and he takes it from you.
“Come ‘ere.” he grumbles, patting the spot next to him on the couch.
“You do know what they’re doing, right?”
“Are you cold or not?” he asks, looking lazily over at you.
Sighing, you make your way over and you tense as his hand surrounds your shoulders. He finishes his beer and lays back again. You start the movie and find comfort in his warmth. He pulls a blanket over you and hands you a bag of your favorite snack.
“How-”
“Movie’s startin’ sweetheart.”
You smile and appreciate his thoughtfulness. After the movie is done, several empty bags and containers take up the coffee table. You both have a short discussion about the movie before you fall into silence again.
You glance at your phone, “Damn, it’s almost midnight.”
As if on cue, you yawn and look back at Eliot.
“You know, I never thought I would actually enjoy today. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Even if I had to wear these stupid things.”
You laugh and nod.
“Yeah, I had a great time. I hadn’t really talked one on one with you before. It was nice. Thank you for cooking. Thanks for not running out of here, too.”
You both laugh and his gaze turns serious.
“You know, I was bein’ serious about what I told you. I know Sophie isn’t one to do these things without a good reason to.”
He doesn’t have to tell you what he’s talking about for you to know.
“I know.”
His hand is on your thigh and you bite your lip.
“The question is would you?” he mumbles slowly. 
You only take a second to think before you gather all the courage inside of you and respond. All the months of you keeping your secrets and feelings inside suddenly come spilling out in one word.
“Yes.”
Eliot slowly leans forward. His eyes glance down to your lips and you both close your eyes as he gently kisses you. Your hand goes to his neck as his other hand pulls you closer. You’re so close to each other, and it’s better than you could have imagined. He pulls away and smiles down at you. 
“Never thought I would do it like this, but I’m still glad I did. I might not kill Hardison, after all.”
You both laugh softly before he kisses you again, even more gently. Eventually, you both pull away and end up falling asleep together in each other’s arms. In his embrace, it feels as though nothing can beat the feeling. You wonder why the hell you waited so long to make a move. You thought you would strangle Sophie after this little stunt of hers. But now all you want to do is hug her.
Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the team has been in the van for the past hour watching the developments.
“My system. My poor system! I’m sorry, baby!” Hardison cries out, leaning his head on the desk.
They all roll their eyes. Parker cheers and claps her hands, laughing.
“I promise I’ll take good care of it. What kind of games can I play?” she asks eagerly.
Sophie smirks over at Nate. He slowly looks over at her, a look of disappointment on his face.
“I hope you liked your gift.” she says.
“You bought me a bottle of whiskey.”
“I know, darling. And I hope you absolutely love it.”
Nate groans, leaning back and cursing why he ever thought this was a good idea.
Sophie had stolen love all right, and Nate had secretly never been prouder.
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