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#If nothing else. I survived far longer than anyone else would have in the same situation I reckon

raainy-daze · 1 year

Note

don't mind me requesting stuff

so what if there was a y/n character who was super surprised when anyone initiated physical contact because who would want to touch anyone like them? (their words)

and so donnie doesn't like physical contact, but the first hug after nearly dying just sends reader into a fucking chopping board. they are stiff as a brick and have their hands awkwardly at their side cause, again, why would anyone (especially someone as amazing as donnie) want to make any contact with them?

(gn!reader please)

You Survived! Now Have Emotions

rottmnt!donnie x gn!reader

summary: wow. explosions sure do just mess up your day, don’t they? oh well, you survived. you kind of have to explain your issues with touch to donnie now, though.

word count: 1609

warnings for maybe slightly ooc?? it’s 12:45 at night i don’t know how good it is okay

a/n: thanks for requesting! sorry this took so ridiculously long. good luck to everyone it applies to on thanksgiving family reunion hell!

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How were you not dead right now?

Hell, you weren’t even just not dead, you only had minor injuries. That was a lot better than you had hoped in the moment. You had plenty of scratches and bruises, but nothing was broken, you were sure of that much. You tested moving cautiously, moving one limb at a time before standing up. The worst damage was taken by your right leg. Sprained, maybe. Not bad enough to not be able towalk, though, thank god. You limped a bit, but hey, that still counted as walking.

There was one catch, though. When the battle was over, and you had fully assessed your injuries, you were alone. Completely, horribly alone. So, you set out, stumbling a bit on your bad leg, in search of your friends.

You called out each of their names, one at a time.

“April!” You’d been closest to her in the fight, towards the back. Why hadn’t she been knocked the same direction you had?

“Mikey!” He’d been the farthest from the explosion, you were pretty sure. If you were fine, surely he’d be uninjured.

“Leo?” Had you even seen him? Last you remembered, he had ported off somewhere, probably with some kind of idea that came too late.

“Raph?” If anyone would be hurt, it would be him, he was closest to the blast. God, you hoped he was fine. He’s tough, he wouldn’t be…? Right?

“Donnie…?” You didn’t even want to think about him, as your thoughts grew steadily darker. You were fine. You were fine. Why wouldn’t everyone else be?

You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

How far could that damn explosion have thrown you? Pretty far, apparently. You weren’t even entirely sure what had caused it. You must’ve been near something flammable, and not noticed in the heat of the fight.

For a moment, you considered that you might be going in the wrong direction, but that couldn’t be right. You could see clear signs of destruction, getting steadily more obvious as you made your way along.

“Guys…?” The longer you spent in your head, the more pessimistic your thoughts got. Your final call was pathetically weak. Your ankle hurt more the farther you walked. You had finally reached the scene of the carnage again. Surely an explosion like that would make any villain flee.

At first, your call wasn’t answered. You shut your eyes, exhausted. You might as well collapse, wait for the others to find you. Or the police, if they showed up soon.

“(Y/N)!”

So much for collapsing.

You turned towards the voice, searching desperately for its source. You found it, all right, right in the middle of this stupid battle site. You felt your energy immediately restore itself. “Donnie!”

He was standing on a pile of debris, right where the explosion had gone off. He didn’t seem to have taken any more damage than you had. You watched as Donnie scrambled down from his perch atop the rubble (which, you would later learn, had been an attempt at a lookout) and began running to greet you.

You smiled a rather tired, albeit relieved, smile, and raised a hand in greeting. You unfortunately were not expecting for Donnie to practically slam into you, pulling you into quite possibly the tightest hug you’d ever been in.

Your brain reacted not unlike a computer crashing. You went entirely stiff, not knowing how else you were meant to react. Time almost slowed down as several facts went through your head all at once.

Fact one: people touching you was not a normal occurrence. Why would it be? You weren’t the kind of person people would usually want to hug, or anything like that.

Fact two: Donnie was just about the least touchy-feely person you knew. You only ever saw him hug people in… well, in situations like this, you guessed.

Fact three: even if Donnie wasn’t so against touch most of the time, you wouldn’t expect something like this anyways. He was so great in almost every way, and you didn’t think you were anywhere near his level.

So, you shut down, with no understanding of what to do. Thankfully soon, Donnie let go of you, though you noticed his hands stayed hovering by your shoulders. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

And you found yourself back in reality, even as your thoughts stayed confusing each other. You felt something wet roll down your face. Oh, god, you were crying. You were crying.

Donnie was never exactly the go-to guy for feelings, so needless to say, neither of you were having a great time figuring out what was going on. “Oh, crap crap crap, please don’t cry-“

That’s the moment someone else chose to make an appearance. More specifically, April and Mikey. They were jogging up from the street opposite of where you’d come from. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified. On the one hand, they were alive! On the other hand, that was two more people to see you crying. Who likes people watching them crying?

So, you turned your face away, wiping away tears with your hands and trying to hold your sobs in, as they ran your way. They were both yelling, though you were having some trouble filtering it through your head. You hoped it wasn’t something important.

The next hour or so was a blur. Raph was okay. Well, he was alive and not in a coma, at least. He was definitely still worse for wear, though, which wasn’t all that surprise considering you found him heavily dazed in the same pile of rubble Donnie had climbed. At some point, Leo had ported back, yelling something about a solution to the problem which had already vanished. At least he was useful for getting everyone back to the lair without having to climb through the sewers.

That was where you sat now, on the edge of the bigger group. Everyone was treating each other’s injuries, and Mikey was explaining what had happened to Splinter alongside occasional amendments by the others. You had determined that your ankle was, in fact, sprained, and treated it best you could. You weren’t sure how you’d explain what happened to your parents, but you were sure you’d figure it out.

Every so often, you’d catch Donnie glancing at you, which you had only noticed due to you doing the same thing.

As everyone was caught up in stories and follow-up plans, Donnie got up from the first aid kit to sit next to you. The air around you just felt a little uncomfortable, and neither of you spoke for several moments.

“Is everything alright?” Donnie was the one to break the silence. He spoke in a low voice, so as not to draw attention from the others.

“Just peachy. I love getting into near death experiences.” Though phrased as a joke, your voice was flat. He tried setting a hand on your shoulder, only for you to flinch away. “Why are you doing that? And why did you hug me?”

“Well, I was worried about you.” He looked somewhat confused. “And I was happy that you were okay. And I thought that people liked to be touched, usually, so… (Y/N), did I do something wrong?”

“Well, yeah… no? I don’t know. I’m just… well, you’re so cool. And all that. I guess I just… don’t think I deserve it?”

“Excuse me?” If you thought Donnie was confused before, you hadn’t seen anything yet. He looked almost offended. “Deserve it? I’m sorry, who hurt you? Of course you deserve it.”

He continued in what was almost a whisper, as his brothers made some dramatic explosion noise (you think? None of them are great at explosion noises.)

“Look, (Y/N), I know that I don’t usually… you know, touch people, but if anyone deserves it, it’s you. You’re awesome, okay?”

You bit your tongue and turned away from him. You were not going to cry again, especially not now in a place where everyone would most definitely notice.

“Donnie!” Leo cut in. “Did I or did I not specifically say, ‘oh hey, I bet that thing’s going to blow up’?”

Your conversation was marked as ended (or at the very least, put off) as his brothers dragged him into bickering over the details of the day’s events. April rolled her eyes and came to sit with you two, so you resolved to pull yourself together for the time being. The rest of your time in the lair was spent talking things over with April, laying down your cover story to your families.

The incident wouldn’t be brought up again until a week later in the lab, where you thankfully didn’t need to worry about everyone watching you. You talked it over, and you explained your mindset more to Donnie.

After that, things continued as normal. If you were fine with it, Donnie would make a point to make some kind of contact every so often. Usually not full on hugs unless he was in a particularly good mood, but he’d try to have a hand on your shoulder, or maybe holding your own hand.

It didn’t go entirely unnoticed by the others. Every so often, one of his brothers (usually Leo) would make a remark about your special treatment, but that was it. You didn’t feel like talking about it with much anyone else, anyways.

Neither of you were great at touch. That was simply a given of life. But you tried your best, and maybe that was enough. You just hoped you’d never have to go through that again.

#tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donnie x reader #donnie x gn!reader

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vodika-vibes · 7 days

Note

Just because I know how much you love, Jango.

Can I request a Jango and whatever you wish. Write away... love oo

Let Her Be Mine

Summary: When Jango Fett was 14 years old, his people were slaughtered and he was sold into slavery. His cell mate on the slave ship was a small girl, younger than him, though she had been a slave for much longer. Jango’s biggest regret is not acting before she was sold. And then he runs into her again...and this time he’s not letting go.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 4134

Warnings: Slavery

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Okay, this is a labor of love that took me days to write. A big thanks to @daimyosprincess for helping me with a sentence that was far too wordy. And thank you for giving me such an open ended ask, lol. I kind of just ran with it.

Jango remembers the first time he met her with surprising clarity. He remembers the feel of chains around his wrists, the heavy slave collar wrapped around his neck, and the scent of unwashed people and fear all around him.

And he remembers her.

She was younger than him by a couple of years, though she looked much younger. The rags that she was wearing, designed for men much larger than her, hung on her small frame like a dress. And razor thin scars crisscrossed her body like some kind of twisted tattoo.

She didn’t have a name, she told him with a small smile. A peaceful smile, as though she had accepted her lot in life and was okay with it.

Jango named her Sen’ika.

A little bird in a little cage.

The slavers shoved him into the same cage as her, claiming that they were both so small that they could share. In truth, he didn’t mind. She deserved to be protected, and surely even he couldn’t kark that up.

His Sen’ika became his reason for surviving. He learned to bite his tongue when the slavers came through, learned to take the beatings from men who beat down on people smaller than them just to make themselves feel important. He learned the importance of listening, rather than just reacting.

And when things were so bad that he couldn’t handle it, his Sen’ika would take his hand and curl against his side, and tell him that tomorrow will be better because it couldn’t possibly be worse.

She was always right.

And on nights when the darkness of despair blotted out all the light, when even his Sen’ika struggled to cradle that fragile flower of hope, Jango would tell her what freedom tasted like.

He’d weave the most amazing stories of the planets that they’d visit and the people that they’d meet and the places that they’d see—

It helped. It gave him something to cling to, and it bolstered her waning spirits. And she would flash him the tiniest of smiles, and Jango would feel ten feet tall.

He couldn’t be that terrible of a person if someone as kind as his Sen’ika smiled at him like that.

And then the auction happened.

And then his Sen’ika was sold. Ripped from from his arms and clapped with heavy chains that weighed her down, as though she was a threat.

They clipped her wings so that she might never fly free.

And the last time he saw his Sen’ika, was when she was being forced into the back of a van with the other children that her new owner purchased.

Jango remained a slave for ten years. Ten long, dragging, years.

Ten years where he never stopped hoping that he might see his Sen’ika again.

Ten years where he clung to life just on the off chance that his Sen’ika might still be out there.

And when Jango escaped, he did so in the bloodiest way possible, slaughtering anyone who might have tried to stop him. And a part of him was glad that his Sen’ika wasn’t on board, because she deserved more than this.

It’s been several years since then, and Jango is now pushing thirty.

He’s a rather prolific Bounty Hunter, having elected to stay away from Mandalore in the hopes of finally tracking down his Sen’ika. If nothing else, all evidence points to her still being alive...even if he can’t find her.

And that’s when he’s approached by the Jedi.

Now, Jango Fett has no love for the Jedi, with very good reasons. Jedi and Mandalorians mix about as well as oil and water on a good day, and the last time Jango saw a Jedi he was leading the slaughter of the True Mandalorians.

So Jango is less than thrilled at the arrival of the Jedi.

Somehow he’s even less thrilled when the Jedi inform him that they are reaching out to him on behalf of the Senate. But his ship needs some work and credits are credits, so he agrees to listen to them while mentally tacking several additional zeros to the end of the number that he usually charges for a job.

“I am sure that you are aware of the uprising in the outer rim.” The Jedi begins, “The Senate has been trying to reach out to the person who is currently leading the Pirates, to come to an agreement.”

“And?” Jango asks, bored out of his mind.

“And the Jedi they sent to negotiate were told to leave and not come back.”

Jango chokes back a laugh with great difficulty, “I fail to see how this is my problem.”

“We would like you to go and speak with them on our behalf.” The Jedi replies, “We think that they might be more receptive to someone more like me.”

“You mean you think I might be able to make contact because I’m closer to pirate than I am to cop.” Jango says with a sharp smile.

“I...didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Yeah, alright. I’ll take the job. I want half my fee up front.” In truth, he was going to reach out to these pirates anyway, they’re known for freeing slaves, and he’s hoping that they’ll have a good clue as to finding his Sen’ika.

The Jedi inhales sharply, and Jango arches a brow. “Problem?”

“This is...quite a lot.” The Jedi replies calmly.

“I’m very good at what I do. But, if you’re not interested-”

“No! No! The fee is fine,” The long haired Jedi hastens to reassure, “And you’re quite sure that you’ll be able to get them to talk?”

“I’m sure I can get them to hear me out. Anything else is on them.”

“That will have to be good enough, I suppose.” The Jedi muses thoughtfully, “Oh. Where are my manners. My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

Jango blinks once. Twice. A third time.

“I beg your kriffing pardon?”

“Oh yes, did I not mention? I will be joining you on this.”

“You did not.” Jango says through clenched teeth, “You did say that the Pirates kicked the last Jedi out.”

“Well, yes. They did.” He smiles politely and Jango wants to punch him in the face. “But you can’t speak for the Republic. So I need to be there.”

Jango grinds his teeth in annoyance, “Do you have a ship, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“I do, in fact.” The other man says brightly. “I wouldn’t dream of trespassing on your ship, Mister Fett.”

Well, that’s something, at least.

“Fine. We’ll be leaving as soon as the credits are transferred to my account.” Jango says as he stands, “Pleasure doing business with the Republic.” And then he sweeps out of the dingy little bar to head back to his ship.

So much for him plans to search for his Sen’ika.

Whatever, the Jedi won’t be with him the whole time. Odds are he won’t even be allowed to land on Tatooine, which means he’ll be able to talk to them without being interrupted.

At least. He hopes so. If this Jedi ruins his one chance of getting usable data on where his Sen’ika is...Jango might actually kill him.

He makes the long trek back to his ship, he wasn’t kidding about leaving as soon as he got his payment. Though he fully expects the payment to take a few days. Since this is the government that he’s working with.

So, when he gets the initial credit transfer less than an hour later, Jango is genuinely surprised. Though, as he thinks more about it, he really shouldn’t be. The Republic is so eager to get ahead of this, that they’re willing to hire him, of all people, to help them deal with it.

“So,” He murmurs to the empty ship, “This is what a desperate Republic looks like.”

Three weeks later, Jango lands his ship in his assigned landing bay on Tatooine. He’s aware, vaguely, of the Jedi landing his ship only a few landing pads away, and he sighs.

He was kind of hoping that the Jedi would be barred from landing at all.

Jango pays the fee needed to keep his ship secured on this pad, and heads out of the spaceport, though he’s very quickly joined by the older man.

“Ah, Tatooine,” Qui-Gon says as he looks around at the city. “Have you ever been here before?”

“More than you, probably.” Jango replies, his eyes narrowing as people glance at them and whispers start spreading through the market. They’re not whispering about him, he’s been here many times and he’s never gotten this reaction before.

He glances at the man standing next to him.

The man clad in, obvious, Jedi robes.

And he sighs. So much for the more stealthy approach he was hoping for.

“Are you the representative from the Republic?” A woman, shorter than him and carrying an infant on her back, asks as she approaches the pair of men. She looks older than she actually is, if Jango had to guess.

“I am,” Qui-Gon said, “My name is Qui-Gon Ji-”

“I don’t care.” The woman interrupts, “You are a Jedi, yes? Your kind was told never to return to Tatooine.”

“This is true,” Qui-Gon flounders, “But my companion here is not authorized to speak for the Republic-”

“Then perhaps one of the Senators should have gotten out of their plush offices and come here themselves,” She interrupts again, and then she frowns, “Were it up to me, you’d be back on your ship and off my planet. But it isn’t.”

“You are to be our guide then?”

“I will guide you to the taxi stand and no further.” The woman says, “I have my own business I must attend to.”

The Jedi next to you, seeming unable to keep his mouth shut, just has to speak again. “Forgive me, but are you a slave for the new leader of Tatooine?”

The woman stiffens in offense, and Jango presses his hand against his helmet and shakes his head.

“Were you anyone else, and not a guest of our new Imperator-” She takes a deep breath and stalks away, “Follow, and stay close.”

The woman leads the men through the winding street of Mos Espa, until she stops by a taxi droid. She speaks to the droid and then stalks away, back to the market.

“Hm…” Jango sighs as Qui-Gon gazes after the woman thoughtfully, “Her child is very force sensitive.”

“If you think you can convince her to give him to you-” Jango says, sounding bored out of his mind.

“Ah...no. I think she might shoot me if I try.”

“Pity.”

“That she’d shoot me? Yes, I agree-”

“-that you won’t ask.” Jango interrupts, “Seeing you get shot would make this a slightly more interesting trip.”

Qui-Gon actually looks surprised at his words, hopefully it’ll keep him from talking overly much on the trip to the palace. Thought, Jango wouldn’t put money on it. The Jedi seems to like the sound of his own voice overly much.

And, true to his prediction, the older man started chatting with the Droid as soon as the speeder started moving. Not that the Droid was the chattiest of drivers. He’s a driver, not a tour guide after all.

Jabba the Hutt’s palace, ah no, it’s the Imperator’s palace now, looks just as it had the last time he was here. Worn down from age, with antenna sitting on the roof. The windows are open, though the heavy metal shutters are drawn low, to keep the twin suns from heating the building over much.

There are some difference too, though.

Jango’s fairly certain that those are solar panels attached on the sun facing side of the building. And it almost looks as though someone is trying to cultivate a cacti garden off to the side of the path.

That or the Imperator thinks that death by cacti is an appropriate punishment for interlopers.

Much to Jango’s surprise, they’re invited inside immediately, by a young twi’lek boy dressed much nicer than any twi’lek would have ever been allowed to dress while Jabba was in charge.

“You wait here.” The boy orders imperiously, before he turns and runs down the hall.

If the outside of the palace looks the same, the inside couldn’t be more different if they replaced the entire building. The formerly dimmed halls are well lit, and the walls, formerly covered in blood and other...unsavory...things, are now covered in tasteful tapestries.

Probably items that Jabba received as tribute over the years, Jango thinks with an amused smile as he steps away from the door and onto the new looking plush carpet that covers the hallway.

“I admit,” Qui-Gon murmurs, “This is not what I was expecting from someone called Imperator.”

“What, were you expecting slaves lining the halls or something?”

“...in a manner of speaking, yes.”

Jango takes a moment to remove his helmet, now that the twin suns aren’t beating down on him, “Are you karking stupid? These people free slaves. There aren’t any slaves on Tatooine anymore.”

“That...the reports the Jedi were given-” He’s cut off as a different child, this one a little Chiss girl, runs up. “Oh, hello.”

“The Imperator will see you in the throne room. He expects you both to keep your weapons sheathed while you are guests in our home.”

“Of course,” Jango agrees, “We wouldn’t dream of threatening the Lord of this place.”

The little girl nods, and focuses her attention on Qui-Gon, “This message is for you, Master Jedi.”

“I’m listening.”

“The Imperator is not happy that the Republic have ignored his wishes for no Jedi to trespass on his home, however, in the spirit of cooperation, he is willing to hear out what you have to say.”

“That is very magnanimous of the Imperator.”

“Yes,” The child agrees, “It is. Follow me please.”

The little girl leads them through the winding halls of the palace, and Jango takes the time to take in all of the changes. New coats of paint, flowers growing in pots, little mouse droids designed to travel the halls trailing perfume after them-

Jango much prefers this version, over the Jabba’s version of the same palace, which always smelled like blood and bile, even through his helmet.

The child stops in front of the throne room and pushes open the door, “Imperator, the Mando and the Jedi are here.” And then she moves to the side to let the two men into the room.

The Imperator is a Tholothian male, dressed in pirates armor. And, if Jango had to guess, he would easily be the same height as him, if not a little taller, though even with the armor, he’s much less broad and much more wiry.

Jango wouldn’t want to have to fight him hand to hand, that’s for sure. Which he knows that he’d win, it’d be a hard fought fight.

“Jango Fett,” The Imperator speaks with a crisp Coruscanti accent, which is rather jarring when compared to his more roguish appearance, “It’s always a pleasure to host a man of your caliber.”

Jango nods, once. Accepting the compliment for what it is.

“Master Jinn,” The Imperator’s voice goes cold, “Your presence is much less welcome in my home.”

“Yes, the Jedi apologizes for being unable to adhere to your request-”

“It was not a request, Master Jinn.” The Imperator interrupts, and the room descends into a, slightly awkward, silence before their host claps his hands together, “Now, I am willing to hear you out, however, not today.”

“Is there a reason that we can’t start negotiations today?” Qui-Gon asks.

“Yes. I don’t want to.”

And, well, that’s that.

“I have taken the liberty of preparing rooms for the both of you in my palace. Though, you will not be staying in the same part of the palace, I’m afraid.” The Imperator says, and he genuinely sounds grieved. Or he would if it wasn’t for the gleam in his eyes.

“You honor us,” Qui-Gon says politely.

“Indeed, I do. Master Jinn, you will be staying in the lower levels, it’s a bit cooler but also noisier. Jango, I have a room set up for you upstairs.”

“Thank you,” Jango replies.

The Imperator nods once, and there’s a look of mirth on his face before he waves his hand and the two children from earlier run into the room, “Please show our guests to their rooms.”

Jango falls into step behind the little twi’lek boy, who keeps glancing at him and giggling like he knows a secret. He’s not bothered, he remembers being a child, after all.

He’s also in a much better mood since he doesn’t have to spend anymore time with Qui-Gon Jinn.

“Have you heard a good joke, ad’ika?” Jango asks as the little boy glances at him and giggles again.

The child clamps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head, “We gotta surprise.” He whispers.

“A surprise? For me?”

“Uh-huh. But,” He leans in and lowers his voice, “It’s a secret! So-so...come on!”

The boy almost sprints up the stairs, though Jango follows at a more sedate pace, and he trails behind the boy until they stop in front of a door. There are plants sitting in planters on each side of the door.

“Here!” The boy presses a scrap of flimsy into his hand, “Here’s the door code!” And then he sprints off, giggling as he does so.

Well, Jango thinks to himself as he glances at the numbers on the scrap and starts keying them in, this is either the most obvious trap I’ve ever walked into, or it’s actually a surprise.

The door slides open and Jango steps into the room. And the first thing he notices is all of the green.

There are plants on every open surface. All sorts of plants from all over the galaxy.

The second thing he notices is that the vanity in the corner is covered in woman’s hair care products, and slowly his eyebrows raise. Surely the Imperator wouldn’t have given him a room that already belongs to someone, right.

Finally, he notices her. Dressed in loose, comfortable clothes, and kneeling next to a small table covered in succulents. And, at first he’s slightly bemused that he was shoved into another person’s room, and then he looks again.

And he realizes that he recognizes her.

He clears his throat, and she turns her head slightly, before she favors him with the warmest smile. “Jango.”

His helmet falls from his fingers, “Sen’ika.”

She stands, and she’s still so small and still so thin, and her skin is still covered in razor thin scars, “You remember me!”

“Of course. I never stopped looking for you.” Jango steps closer to her and reaches out, though he stops shy of actually touching her. Sen’ika doesn’t have any such qualms, as she takes his hand in both of hers and presses it against her cheek.

“I knew you wouldn’t.” She replies as she rubs her cheek against his gloved hand, “I knew that you’d find me eventually.”

Jango releases a shuddering breath and steps even closer into her space, before ripping his glove off and pressing his bare hand against her cheek, “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay. I forgive you.”

Jango takes a moment to tug off his other glove and presses his hand back against her cheek, “Just look at you,” He breathes out, “You’ve grown up.”

She presses her hands over his, and there are tears in her eyes, “So have you. You’re not that scrawny kid anymore.”

“Scrawny?” Jango asks with a laugh.

“Scrawny.” She agrees. Her smile doesn’t waver when she releases his hands and reaches out to cup his cheek, “How have you been?”

“Lonely.” Jango admits, “It’s been...a very lonely galaxy without you with me.” This is the first time he’s admitted it, though he could never lie to his Sen’ika. “How about you?”

She leans her head into his touch, “Lonely. The Imperator he’s...great. But he’s not really a friend. And his people don’t like me much.”

“How could they not like you?”

She shrugs, “They say I have stars in my eyes. That I’m not meant for…” She gestures vaguely to the room, “This.”

He laughs softly, “And what are you meant for, then?”

“Well,” She averts her gaze for a moment, “You once promised me that you’d show me the galaxy.”

Jango stares at her, surprised.

“If that offer is still open-” She adds, hesitantly.

“You’d leave this? To wander through the stars with me?”

“It sounds...romantic, when you put it like that.” She says softly, wistfully.

“You think so?”

Her smile is small, “Wandering through the stars with the man I’ve loved since he was a boy? Sounds like a fairy tale.”

“Love, huh?”

Her smile doesn’t waver, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. After all, I fell in love with a little girl who kept hope alive when I had none left.”

She looks surprised, “Oh. Really?”

“Really.” Slowly he leans in and presses his forehead against hers, “We don’t have to rush, we can take things slow. Especially since we’re going to be together from here on out.”

“Together, I like that.”

“Me too.” Jango closes his eyes and tries to draw her in closer, “As soon as I’m done with my job here, we can get you settled on my ship and then we can go wherever we want.”

“What’s your job here?” His Sen’ika asks as she lightly traces his face with gentle fingers.

“I was hired by the Republic to help open a Dialogue between them and the Imperator.” Jango replies.

“It won’t work.” Her answer is immediate.

“Yeah, I don’t think it will either. But credits are credits.”

She shakes her head, “The Imperator has a thing about the Republic and their weak stance on slavery.”

“I don’t blame him.”

She’s quiet for a very long moment, and then she sighs, “Jango. As soon as his army is large enough he intends to go to war with the Republic. You shouldn’t get involved.”

Jango pulls back and stares at her, “I see.” He scans her face for a moment, and then sighs, “Well, I did get half of the money up front, and there’s no love lost between me and the Republic.”

“Jango?”

“Pack what you need, Sen’ika. We’re leaving before we get any more involved in this.”

Her smile is almost blinding, “Give me a few minutes.”

He watches her dart around the room, shoving clothes and other items into her bag, and then she’s back by his side, “Okay, I’m ready. I’ll leave the plants to the kids.”

“Do we need to tell the Imperator that you’re leaving?”

“He knew that I would be going with you the moment you arrived on planet, Jango.” She says breathlessly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “No one is going to stop us.”

True to her words, not a single soul stopped them as they head through the palace and back to the taxi stand. And no one stopped them as they headed back to the spaceport. And no one stopped them when he started up his ship and flew through the pre-flight checks.

And no one stopped them as they left Tatooine’s atmosphere for greener pastures.

As they sit high in orbit over the desert planet, Jango watches his Sen’ika watch the stars around them, and a small smile crosses his lips. “So,” He starts, turning in his chair to allow her to sit on his lap, “Where do you want to go?”

“Um...someplace new.” Sen’ika replies as she lightly sits on his lap, her gaze locked on the open space outside his ship.

Jango chuckles, “Someplace new it is.” He lightly taps her chin, pulling her attention off of the openness of space and onto him. He flashes a small, mischievous, little smile and tugs her in to press his lips against hers in a quick, and very chaste kiss.

When he pulls away, she looks flustered and has her fingers pressed against her lips, “Was that okay?” He asks.

Shyly, she meets his gaze, and then she nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Good,” He wraps a secure arm around her waist, and then focuses his attention on his computer, “Someplace new….hm...I know. I have just the place.”

Six months later, The Imperator declares war on the Republic, aided by a growing number of formerly Republic Planets who were jaded by the inaction of the government they supported for so long.

But that’s a different story.

As for Jango Fett and his Sen’ika, they write themselves out of the story, content to wander the galaxy, so long as they can wander together.

#star wars #star wars legends #jango fett x reader #jango x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

The Queen’s Hand

(Part VII: Birthright)

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Warning: this chapter includes the birth of Rhaenyra’s daughter who unfortunately does not survive.

Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI

“This is treason and you know it.” Aemmia snaps, her cheeks flush from tears. Her eyes burning with the fire of the dragon.

“I understand that you are upset.” Aemond attempts to gentle his wife, “but you must compose yourself. This is not good for the baby.”

“It is too soon to know if I’m with child!”

“Helaena told me so.”

Aemmia sighs, looking away. Some consider Helaena mad, but Aemmia knows better. Viserys knew things he could not, same as her mother.

“Rhaenyra is the rightful heir. I intend to uphold her claim.” She says, with fierce determination.

“Aemmia, please.” Aemond catches her face in his hand. “I will no longer argue the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s claim. But the fact remains, my mother and grandsire have set this chain of succession in motion. I cannot stop it. I cannot make Rhaenyra Queen anymore than I can raise my father from the dead. If we do not accept the crown it will pass to Aegon.”

“Aegon cannot be found.” Aemmia steps away from his hold.

“They’ve not been looking very hard.”

“Why not?”

“Because they do not wish to find him.” Aemond confesses. “This is best for everyone. You and I on the throne, the coronation will be peaceful.”

“Aemond, I will not betray my family. If we send for Rhaenyra-”

“If Rhaenyra becomes queen, she will kill my family.”

“Why do you believe this?” Aemmia wonders, have Otto’s lies poisoned him so? “My aunt is not vindictive or cruel. Now she may forbade you from speaking ill against her children, but she would not harm you.”

“Her children have done it before,” Aemond reminds her, “and even you spoke against me.”

“You called them bastards.”

“Are they not?” He challenges.

“They are Targaryens,” Aemmia corrects him, “same as you and I.”

“Hmm.”

“It was you who attacked them.”

“Attacked them? Four against one.” Aemond huffs. “Yet none of them maimed.”

“You tried to kill Jace.”

“I was trying to defend myself.”

“As Lucerys was defending his brother.” She dares him to argue.

“Say what you will, dear wife. But if it were me who harmed one of her children this way, my father would have removed my eye himself and presented it to Rhaenyra on a platter.”

Aemmia reels back at this, “I cannot say if that is true. You knew a much different man than I.”

“Because he loved you.” Aemond says simply. “A privilege I was not afforded.”

“I-”

“When all is said and done it matters not. With us on the throne, we can ensure the safety of your family and mine. You will have the power to unfuck this as you see fit. I cannot give all you ask of me, but I can make you Queen.” Aemond pauses, “Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Her brow furrows.

“I despised you for years. Feeding into jealousy, unable to understand my father’s devotion to your mother and Rhaenyra’s children over me, his own son. But as I’ve come to know you, I see it a bit differently. We are not so different, two sides of the same coin. I…feel for you.”

“And I for you,” Aemmia breathes.

“I do not know if it is love, but I have never felt it for anyone else. I do not wish your family dead, I do not wish you to suffer. Allow me to do this for you.”

-———————————🌱———————————

“Y/N!”

The sound of her sister’s distressed cry sends the Princess scurrying to Rhaenyra’s rooms.

“Rhaenyra,” Y/N murmurs. She is in a state of undress, suited only for the birthing bed. Bent forward at the waist, gripping the door frame which overlooks the balcony. It is far too soon for her labors. “You must sit.”

“We are past that now.” Rhaenyra tells her. “This is happening.”

Y/N looks to the maester. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“I am afraid not, Princess.”

Rhaenyra reaches for her, “I need you.” Her voice is choked with pain.

Y/N crosses the room. Taking her sister’s hand and fussing about her endlessly. “I’m so sorry, Rhaenyra. I failed you.”

“Often times I felt the world has failed me, but never you, sister. Never have you failed me.” Rhaenyra gasps, clutching her belly.

“Let me help.” Y/N says, moving to knead the small of Rhaenyra’s back.

Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Daemon wishes to move immediately for the throne. He’s gone to madness.”

It’s been all of half an hour since the news arrived by raven. Alicent and Otto plan to use their absence to usurp Rhaenyra, forcing her own niece to take the crown.

“I know Aemmia and I love her like my own. She would not supplant me of her own free will. Whatever game Alicent is playing, I do not wish her to be caught in the cross fire. If Daemon moves it will be a blood bath, you know it as well as I.” Rhaenyra forces the words out between contractions.

“Rhaenyra, what would you have me do?” There’s blood, too much blood.

“You are the one meant to advise me.” Rhaenyra attempts a jest. “I have sent Jacaerys, whatever claim remains to me it is now his. I don’t not want any decision made while I’m abed.”

“I will send Harwin to back him,” Y/N suggests, “be sure Daemon is respectful of your wishes.”

“Harwin is an asset, but he holds little authority in court. Daemon trusts you, he may listen if you speak.”

“I do not wish to leave you this way.” Y/N confesses.

Rhaenyra reaches back, catching her sister’s hand. “It’s as mother always said, this is our battle field. We must learn to face it with a stiff upper lip. I will be alright until you return.”

Y/N nods, perhaps it is silly to worry. Rhaenyra has five children, but this is different. Still the Princess raises her chin, facing the council room with grace.

Harwin looks…perturbed to say the least. Daemon must be eating Jace alive.

“Might I ask exactly what is still up for discussion when your Queen has willed you wait for her? I assume my nephew, Jacaerys, was very clear.”

The room is silent for a long moment.

“Princess,” Lord Corlys, barely recovered from his injury in battle for the Step Stones, nods down to her hands.

Y/N follows his gaze, her mind spiraling with a grief so intense she has not yet felt it. She swallows, composing herself. Wiping her hands down the front of her dress to clean them; staining the material in her sister’s blood. “We are not to make any decisions in the absence of Rhaenyra.”

“We must make preparations, Y/N. War does not stop for a laboring Queen, I’m afraid. You will be most useful at my wife’s side.” Daemon tries to reason. However harsh his words, he does love Rhaenyra and wants her cared for in his absence.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra cries. The awful sound of it echoing off the walls.

“Clearly you are the one she wants.” Y/N insists. “I will take over as head of this proceeding.”

“You would stand against your own daughter?”

“Wouldn’t it be best to first rally our allies?” Y/N ignores his question. “Assuming we know who still stands with us.”

Daemon looks down at Y/N’s hands again. “What of Aemmia?”

“Whatever my daughter hath done is in the name of this family, and our rightful queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. Aemmia is strong. She would not be so easily won over by the Hightowers. She would however be smart enough to play their game,” Y/N looks him dead in the eye, “and win.”

Daemon’s jaw ticks, “come Jacaerys, I will teach you the true meaning of loyalty.”

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Let the seven bear witness! It was King Viserys’ dying wish, that his first born child, Y/N Targaryen’s daughter, Aemmia Targaryen-”

Aemond feels his wife’s fingers tighten around his, as if the name startled her. Aemmia Strong is no more, he squeezes back. You’re alright.

“And his true born son, Aemond Targaryen, should succeed him. It is your great fortune and honor to witness this today. A new King and Queen to guide our city.”

Aemmia is grateful when she is asked to kneel to the High Septon, for fear she may faint. Her knees hit the top stair harder than strictly necessary. She can’t go through with this.

‘But, there is new hope. With Aemmia and Aemond’s union, our houses might stand together once more.’

Her grandsire’s words ring in her ears. This will not unite them. It will break any bonds that hold them. I cannot do it.

“May the warrior give them courage.”

I miss you, grandsire.

“May the smith lend strength to their sword and shield.”

I’m sorry, Rhaenyra.

“May the father defend them in their need.”

I need you, father.

“May the crone lift her shining lamp and guide their way to wisdom.”

Forgive me, mother.

With that the High Septon is finished.

“Crown of Viserys, the peaceful. Passed down to the next generation.”

Aemmia’s head is light, the metal of her grandsire’s crown too cool against her skin. Even it knows, it does not belong.

‘Tonight I want you to see me as I am.’

If only he were here. Her grandsire did not wish this. He would never let it happen.

“The crown of the conqueror, passed down through generations.” Criston Cole crowns Aemond next. A clear sense of accomplishment about him.

As if this has not been cruel enough, they are now expected to stand. Aemmia hopes no one will notice the wobble in her stance. Turning out to face the masses.

Aemond presses a kiss to her temple. Tis done. Drawing his sword, he kneels, presenting the blade for her to wield. He looks up at her, “my Queen.”

Aemmia takes the hilt carefully. Lifting it from his outstretched hand to the sky.

“All hail, her grace.” The Septon announces, though confused by the lack of ceremony. “Aemmia Targaryen, first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm. Aemmia the Queen!”

The applause starts slow, but is ever building. Aemond stands beside her proudly now, she has done her part. Her hand gone limp in his, eyes glossed over, she has checked out. Though no one but he is the wiser.

Only the explosion from the entrance and rubble flying in all directions pulls her from it. There is a dragon, she can make out the shape of someone on it’s saddle, but she cannot say who.

As the dust settles, Aemmia spots Rhaenys; Rhaenys sees her. Their eyes locked as Meleys rears back. Aemmia’s fingers curl around Aemond’s outstretched forearm. Though his body would do little to shield her, it is the only protection he has to offer.

The roar that sounds will live forever in her mind, no fire joins it. This is not and execution, it’s a warning.

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Ahhh!” Rhaenyra’s head falls forward in defeat.

“Good,” Y/N says, “very good. You’re nearly there.”

“Princess,” one of Rhaenyra’s maids calls, “you should not do this alone. Let us help you.”

Rhaenyra says nothing, bearing down against the pressure in her abdomen.

“Once more,” Y/N encourages, prepared to catch the babe.

Syrax cries out in distress as Rhaenyra brings her sixth child into the world.

The infant, a girl, perfect and beautiful. Completely still. She is small, but appears healthy though she does not cry. Y/N turns the baby over, rubbing at her back. “Come on, little one.”

Rhaenyra looks to her sister.

“We must have the maester!”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Give her here.”

“She will be alright.”

Rhaenyra leans her forehead to her sister’s. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Y/N slides the baby into Rhaenyra’s arms.

“I should like to be alone now.”

“I cannot leave you.” Not like this, she shouldn’t be alone.

“Even you cannot shield me from this. I have lost a child, I must grieve.”

It isn’t fair. Y/N forces herself to her feet. Covered in blood and the aftermath of a newborn babe. Holding her composure out the door, down the hall. But the tears come, hot and unbidden. Scorching her cheeks.

She tears at the strings of her gown as she walks, letting it pool at her feet then stepping over it. Shedding it the way a snake might shed it’s skin. She is different now, forever changed.

“My darling.” Harwin greets her just beyond the door of their guest chambers.

“I-” Y/N puts a hand up between them. “I cannot be comforted.”

Harwin holds his stance, not moving toward her. “You must have a bath.”

Y/N shakes her head. “There is a war to be fought.”

“In your dressing gown?”

“I do not have armor.”

“We will get you some, when the time comes.”

“Do not coddle me.”

“I apologize, that was not my intent. I only want to be sure you’ve thought this out.”

“Thought it out?” Y/N forms her mouth slowly around each word. “The Hightowers have held our daughter against her will and forced her to commit high treason. The repercussions of which sent Rhaenyra into such a state of distress that she has lost her child.”

“Viserys would have wanted-”

“My father is not here! He’s gone. Dead.” The word burns it’s way from her throat. “He left me and he’s never coming back.”

“Y/N,” Harwin runs a hand over his face.

“If my father were alive, he would open the floodgates and rain hellfire upon them.”

“Look at me.” Harwin crosses the room, taking her face in hand.

“She’s all I have left of my mother.” Y/N shoves him away. “All I have left of him. I cannot lose Rhaenyra. I will protect her at any cost and no one will take her from me!”

“My love, you are not yourself.”

“No, you’re wrong.” Y/N insists. “This is who I am, Harwin. This is who I’ve always been.”

“I have known you some thirty eight years, married to you for over twenty of them. I know who you are, Y/N Targaryen. I know you and I love you. Therefore I will be the first to tell you when you are making a mistake.”

“That is the problem, Harwin.” Her chest heaves with the weight of it. “I’ve changed, I am different.”

“Push me away and reel me in as you wish, but I will not abandon you. When you die it will be with my slain body at your feet, my sword and shield in your hand. If this is the war we are fighting I will stand at your side. I am not your enemy. I’m only asking to weigh our options.”

Her defenses dissipate. “Your patience and understanding touches me deeply. I do apologize for taking my frustrations out on you, it will not happen again.”

Harwin softens at this, “you need not apologize for being human.”

“I do not see a way back from this.” Y/N admits. “They have gone too far.” She puts a hand to her aching heart.

———————————-🌱———————————-

It has been three days. Three days since the coronation. Aemmia has just changed into her nightgown when she hears rustling from the adjoining room of her apartment.

Aemond.

“Come to celebrate?” Aemmia shakes her head. “I am exhausted from the day’s affairs. I wish to sleep.”

Silence.

“Aemond?” Aemmia turns to farther investigate. There is someone there, a man. His hood draw up, covering the top portion of his face. “Show yourself.”

The cloak is pulled back, Aemmia squints into the dimly lit corner. He reminds her of someone…someone she used to know. But it couldn’t possibly be, “Laenor?” Now she is seeing ghosts.

The man takes a step toward her. “Ser Lynis will do.”

“It was you? All these years, the one my mother was writing from the Step Stones.”

He nods.

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Your mother wanted to come herself, badly.” Laenor explains, “but I had a better chance of getting through the passage ways into the castle than she did.”

“Are you…staying?” Say yes. “Or perhaps I could come with you?” Please.

“Not just yet. But we do not want you to think yourself forgotten. Your family will not abandon you here, Aemmia.”

“In all these years I have not forgotten you. It is so good to see you again, Uncle.”

Laenor opens his arms to her, “come.”

Aemmia runs, all but jumping into the familiar hold of the man who would put her up on his shoulders as a child. “Will you tell her- tell my mother I did not want this.”

“She knows.” Laenor assures her.

“And the crown,” Aemmia makes a run for it, “my grandsire would want Rhaenyra to have it. Our true Queen.”

Laenor wraps his hand around it, tucking it safely into his satchel. “Well done, sweetheart. You’ve made us all proud.”

“Will I see you again?” Aemmia asks.

“When the time is right.”

Part VIII

Taglist @evyiione @giulia2372 @bubblebuttwade @hotd-fanfic @leoramage @hyperfiaxed-freak @chonisbestmistake @poemfreak306

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judysxnd · 5 months

Note

Hello, I have an idea.

how about something cute, about pedro and the reader at the Beyoncé concert, and Pedro being a little jealous and possessive, because of all the attention the reader is drawing to herself.

aries men are extremely possessive and jealous. LOL

Thank uou

I saw the pictures and videos of Pedro at the concert, oh mamaaaa, perfectiooooooon

Also, happy new yeaaaaaar’s everyone!!

——————————————————————————

Septembre 1st. The calendar was marked. You had always dreamed about going to a Beyoncé concert. So you were beyond excited when you heard she was going on tour. The renaissance tour. You didn’t even hesitate a second when you heard about it, running to the website to by your ticket.

Fortunately, you weren’t the only fan in your close circle of friends, because, even closer, your boyfriend Pedro, is a huge fan too. So you were two behind the computer, rushing to get the tickets. Internet wasn’t going fast enough. You were glued to the screen, ready for anything. So that’s why after buying the tickets you were both dancing in the living room, screams of excitement leaving both yours mouths.

You couldn’t even sleep. You were living the moment in your head, preparing yourself, even though it was only next year. You were trying to think about an outfit for the concert. It’s silver and glitter, obviously. But, a dress? A top and a skirt? What kind of shoes? Heels? No way, you wouldn’t survive the evening. Sneakers for sure. You knew Pedro wouldn’t go that far and would stick to a traditional outfit, but you were all in.

Six months later, you learned that Sarah, Pedro’s best friend also bought tickets for the same date with two other friends. So now it was going to be a small group, and it only made your excitement grow more than anything. You also had your entire outfit ready (already). A cute crop top with thin straps and a tight skirt that arrived mid-thighs, all silver (obviously). With it, you decided to wear white sneakers, so you could dance and jump all night. And you decided to bring a silver cowboy hat. Make up? A think silver eyeliner, but nothing else.

And now the other six months were gone. Today was the day. You spent your day preparing yourself. Music blasting in the house (only Beyoncé’s), you straighten your hair, making it longer than before. You did the silver eye liner, with the help of Sarah. Pedro was simply chilling on the couch with his friends, singing along here and there. Sarah wasn’t going to go crazy on the outfit, she simply decided to have a silver coat. But you didn’t feel entirely alone. One of her friends also had a cowboy hat! It made you feel better.

Once you slipped in that tight and small outfit, you entered the living room where everyone was. Everyone whistled and screamed with joy to you: “hottie!” “I’m blind!” And such. Only Pedro didn’t say anything. You didn’t really understand his reaction. He clearly showed that he was happy, he seemed to love the outfit, but I don’t know, there was something. He finally clapped and complimented you afterwards. You decided not to pick up on it, and simply leave to the concert.

For the concert, you had bought like the best places. You were all up in front, and had a little space so you were not too crowded. All the way to your spot, you felt eyes on you, you heard people whistle. You were too excited and trying to see the stage that you didn’t pay attention to it. But Pedro did. He stayed up close to you, his arm on your shoulders, staring around at anyone who dared to even look at you.

He kept looking around, searching for anyone who would make the mistake to even try to look at you. It can easily get overwhelming. Being a celebrity you have to get used to having eyes on you 24/7, but sometimes it gets the best of you. You managed to get fully into the concert, your friends too, but you could that Pedro was tense next to you. You couldn't hear him sing, he was barely moving. When you turned around you were met with a very serious face, not even looking a the stage in front of you.

"Pedro?" You screamed, so that he could hear you over the loud music. He immediately turned, his eyes falling on you. "What's wrong?" The confused look in your eyes made him realise how low he went.

"Nothing" he shook his head, faking a smile. But come on, who was he fooling? You tilted your head, staring at him. His eyes never left yours. He leaned, talking in your ear. "I don't like all the people looking at you" You couldn't help but smile.

"We're at a Beyoncé concert, you really think they're looking at me?" You joked. Hearing your laugh in his ears calmed him a little more. He rolled his eyes.

"well they did whistle and all when we arrived" he added

"who said it wasn't for you too?" You tried to joke again. "Pedro. Who am I dating?" He gave you an unamused look. "Answer me" you said, standing in front of him.

"me" You smiled

"Yep I'm dating you. People can stare, whistle or whatever, but at the end of the day, you're my home". You put your arms around his neck, while his, instinctively went around your waist. He finally smiled. "C'm here" you said, so he would lean more into you to kiss him. "Better?" you tilted your head and smiled.

"Yes. Thank you cariño" You looked at each other for a few seconds, heart eyes for the both of you. You turned around, staying in Pedro's embrace, but facing the stage. You felt him relax under your touch. Now you both would enjoy the concert.

#fanfic #imagine #pedro pascal #oneshot #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic

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the-cookie-of-doom · 6 months

Note

hmm here's a prompt -- and no pressure to do this one if you don't want to!

porsche enlisting kim's help to find a gift for kinn. that's what porsche tells kim, anyway (he just wants to get to know kim a little better).

Anything for you, my friend! I have clinical in like an hour so I'm not going to finish this, so here's part 1 of Five Things Porsche Learns About Kim (bc ofc this is going to be a whole Thing)

When Porsche puts his mind to something, nothing can stop him. He's stubborn that way. Him and Porchay wouldn't have survived if he wasn't. Life has been throwing cheap shots at Porsche for his entire life; he's learned to roll with the punches and come up swinging, grinning all the while.

All that to say, he gets what he wants. And right now, he's decided what he wants, is a relationship with his little brother's boyfriend. Because there's nothing Porsche is more stubborn about than family, and that's what they are, now, whether he likes it or not.

Kimhan Theerapanyakul is about to learn the hard way that the Kittisawats are a package deal.

The first thing Porsche learns about Kim is that he's a squirrely little bastard. He weasels his phone number out of Chay - after finding out that Kinn didn't have it saved in his own phone, which will be a conversation for later - but Kim doesn't any answer any of the flurry of phone calls and texts that Porsche hurls his own way. Apparently, according to Porchay, Kim has memorized all the numbers of everyone important enough to be worth his time, and doesn't bother with anyone else.

What if someone has to borrow a phone? Porsche had asked.

Sucks to be them, Chay replied, with a silly smile that might mean he's kidding, or it might mean he knows exactly how ridiculous Kim is being, but still somehow likes him anyway. Porsche would prefer the former but he's almost certain it's the latter, and he's trying to figure out exactly why Chay would like him so much.

Because as far as Porsche can tell? Kim is more akin to a feral cat than anything else. Keeps his distance, sullenly watches Porsche anytime they happen to be in the same room, looking away only to scan for the nearest exit - which he takes at the earliest opportunity - and Porsche is certain Kim has actually hissed at him once. Probably not.

Since Kim won't answer unknown numbers, Porsche is forced to stoop to his level. Kinn's phone is of course out of the question, which only leaves one other person, at least only one Porsche can easily access, guaranteed to have it.

He's holding a struggling Porchay in a headlock while the phone dials. It only rings once.

"Hello, love," Kim greets, his voice warm and syrupy and so, so fond that Porsche has to gag, just to see the way his brother flushes.

"I'm sorry, Kim!" Porchay shouts. He's still struggling, digging his hands into Porsche's sides. "I tried to stop him!"

"Porsche." And there it is, that flat tone Porsche is used to.

"Hi, Kim, how's it going?" he asks casually.

"Goodbye.

"Wait, wait, wait!" It's no use. The line is already dead. Porsche releases his brother with a groan, and doesn't fight it when Chay snatches back his phone. "Why does he have to be so difficult?"

"Kim doesn't like being cornered, hia," Chay scolds him. "If you just talked to him like a normal person-"

"He won't let me! He keeps running!"

"You're intimidating!" Porsche doesn't believe that for a second. If Kinn wasn't intimated by him, no way his murderous little brother way. "Maybe you're coming on too strong? He probably think you're gonna kill him for, y'know..."

"No, I don't know." Porsche side-eyes Chay, who's no longer making eye contact. "Do I need to kill him?"

"No!"

"Should I want to?"

"Hia, No!" Chay throws his hands up. "See! This is why he won't talk to you! You're embarrassing."

"Good. Also, I don't care. I want to talk to him, and unless he wants me to lock you in your room and forbit you from seeing each other for the rest of your life, he better cooperate."

Chay lets out a sigh like the weight of all the world is bearing down on him. "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, sullen.

#cookie writes #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawat #porsche kittisawat

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lightlycareless · 11 months

Text

First, it hurts— Chapter XXXI

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of abuse (It’s Y/N reflecting on her relationship with Naoya most of the time) implications of infidelity (emotional, I suppose) fertility, and awkward interactions of two people that do not get along—and what other's think of it lol. This chapter is pretty light compared to others 😅

A/N: nothing much except... I'm back! I enjoyed that small birthday break heheh, thank you so much for your patience!!

Now, without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 32

Ao3 link.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Is a question that brings you an immeasurable amount of unsavory memories.

Beginning with Naoya's interposition.

He knew very well that by saying those words he'd be cornering you into a spot you would have no way to get out —at least not easily— effectively reminding you that he had you under his control, down to the smallest, insignificant details. In that matter, it was almost naïve to believe that today would end without further precedent after the doctor's visit. After all, the day was just beginning.

From there, the catapult of the actions that followed soon after. For some reason, perhaps wanting to avoid meeting anyone else, Naoya's past paramour is the first thing that comes to mind.

You'd like to say that you weren't affected in any shape or form by her existence and her role in Naoya's romantic life, but the fact that a woman who was no longer allegedly involved with him earned far more respect than you, his legitimate wife, hurt you more than you'd like to admit.

And that's without considering how you felt about his imprudent behavior, how Naoya allowed her to be beyond comfortable with him, followed by his unwanted instigation, intended to irk you into lashing at her for flirting with your husband, only to be angry when you didn't proceed as planned, derailing you into giving him a spoonful of your burning honesty, which lead you to the most painful moment of your life yet—One that made your heart sink, and your eyes water, just by even thinking of it.

Maybe if you'd fought harder, denied his invitation to get food, you wouldn't have bumped into his past lover, wouldn't have gotten into an argument with Naoya, and consequently, your survival wouldn't hand on a thread, one so delicate… that was to be broken simply for your ability to have children.

So no, all things considered, you did not want to go "get something to eat" with him.

You don't want to go through that same circle of hell just because he felt in dire need of a distraction. You didn't want to leave the estate in the first place, only doing so for the stated purposes of seeking the answer you needed relating to your health, the ones that the doctor was willing to professionally give anyways, and head back with this precious information to ease both the worries of those that genuinely cared for you, and your troubled mind.

Naoya was nothing but a step towards your goal, and now that that was done, you no longer need to pay attention to his demands…

But even when you already avoided what was to be the worst outcome, courtesy of his own father, it wasn’t enough to halt your husband from making the same decisions as before.

If anything, you hoped that the fear of repetition would’ve convinced him to halt the charade he was putting on with you, head straight back home, and go on with his life—but alas, that was not to happen, and it seems you’d have to take matters into your own hands.

"No, I’m not hungry. Thank you" is all that you say, diplomatically yet sternly as possible, to show that your answer was indisputable, as you continue towards the car, stopping when you are a few inches away from the door, eyes set on the handle waiting for him to unlock it.

"We still have the rest of the day" Naoya attempts to sway your decision, just as expected, but you react accordingly by ignoring his words and furthermore, denying him a reaction.

This stirs frustration inside him, but Ranta’s lingering presence in the back of his mind keeps him at bay. It’s true that he doesn't want to push you away, but having to avoid this specific possibility was, as stated before, far more difficult than he ever anticipated—partaking in a life of privileges made it possible.

Still, he’s proven to be quite the difficult man to break down once he’s set his mind onto something, and with previous preparation, he’ll attempt to make you reconsider his offer in a way that would’ve appeared relatable to you…

If he hadn't been so blind to his own mistakes.

"Come on, we've been locked in the estate for days, don't you want to do something different?” He needled “Besides, you heard the doctor, you have to eat more if you want to be healthier—and we both know that’s not going to happen with my vegetarian family. I, for once, been wanting to get a hold of some protein"

You hold back the urge to scoff, loudly at least.

Was that his attempt to get you to open up with him? Engage with you? By comparing himself with you, as if he were stuck in the estate for the same reason as you?!

Now that was worth all the humiliation in the world!

You wanted to laugh.

Naoya was not even remotely similar to your situation, he should know so since he was the one that made it possible! Yet, he refused (or perhaps couldn’t. Poor, ignorant Naoya) to see it.

You desired to confront him by asking whose fault that was, who was the one behind the fact that you were kept away from your family and friends, without any reasonable way to contact them, forcing to spend the rest of your days at the estate—and if that wasn’t enough, you were also limited within the availability of certain facilities.

It was his own damn fault that you didn’t want anything to do with him, and yet, he foolishly goes on by acting as if you were the one that decided to wake up one uneventful morning and just lose your marbles!

There was even a moment where you actually believed he’d gained a sliver of self awareness after you stood up against his father for his sake —something you’ll probably regret forever— thanks to the distance he’d kept from you.

But after remembering the manner in which he questioned your motives immediately after, his “caution” regarding his father’s untapped cruelty, instead of appreciating what you've done, and now, this… well, it’s safe to say you've long given up on that dream.

It's obvious that there will never be accountability on his part.

This his world, you were just unfortunate enough to be a part of it.

"I want to go eat with you" he insists once more after seconds go by and you have yet to answer, or even acknowledge him outside of watching his reflection on the car's glossy surface.

"I'll stay in the car. I’ll wait here while you go out and eat" you murmur back, the fingers from your right hand now gently clutching the handle, showing both your determination and urgency to leave.

The gesture catches Naoya’s attention, which was not able to leave your hand the first time he saw you pull the handle the first time, washing him over with a despicable current of emotions, starting with anxiety.

“I’m not leaving without you" he counters, powering through his emotions and taking a step closer towards you, which unwittingly causes you to frown and tense up. Maybe through the eyes of others this would’ve been a rather… moving gesture, somewhat romantic for a man to not want to leave without the companionship of their partner, feeling undeniably lonely without it.

Or even the determination of not giving up on them, showing how willing they are to go against all odds to stay by their side.

But for you, it was far from alluring—

It was horrifying.

Naoya was growing desperate, you could hear it in his voice… causing your survival instincts to kick in.

Shall you…. Hold your breath, and dive into the ocean of your tremors?

Is it worth suffering the physical strain of swimming against the tide, in hopes that it will be a quick venture, and before you know it, you’d be back with the people you care for?

Finally safe and away from him?

Or shall you take the higher gamble and run away?

You hate being pushed in these kinds of situations, but for a woman of your circumstances, what was there to do?

The last option is definitely worth considering for a change, but it was one that came with the most flaws: you had no money, knew nothing of this city, and if you took into consideration Naoya's technique, you'd be caught before you even took one step outside the building—you're not as impressive as your sister when it came to stamina, or strength as your brother, and with your now out-of-shape body… there was no way you could put up a fight against him.

Perhaps a call for help would be much better?

… No. It just circles back to the previous point.

Naoya will simply outwit you. He’s going to stop you as soon as he catches wind of your intentions, and you dread to even think what kind of punishment would follow.

Since your life is already on a deadline, the only thing left to do is make your life even more miserable, with the most obvious thing that comes to mind: hindering what little socializing you have with the rest of the estate—it was a short list of people in that realm, but important nonetheless.

You couldn’t permit that. It meant losing too much already. Thus, it was of the utmost necessity to keep a channel of communication —at least for your sanity.

You want to roll your eyes.

Could you really be considered his wife after describing what was to occur to you if you dared to go against him? Of course not.

What you just detailed was a slave, not a wife. Certainly not his wife, companion of the heir of the Zen'in clan….

There must be sin you haven’t accounted for to have your life go this wrongfully.

It's after revisiting all these points that you finally concede to his request—a decision that was already made for you as soon as you agreed to go to the doctor with him— releasing your grasp from the representative door of your freedom, and turning around to face him.

"Ok" you say, eyes briefly on him before landing to the ground, the sight that was to accompany you for the rest of the day so as to avoid him, while clenching your hands. "I'll go with you"

You're not sure of it, maybe it was a fraction of your imagination or you were starting to see things, but through the briefest of moments you were relocating your gaze somewhere else, you swear to have seen a smile on Naoya's face.

A mirage that rattles you down to your very core. A disgusting admittance of submission to his demands, trapped in a passage with no escape, just how you felt this marriage has always been, and will continue to be.

"The place we’re going to is at a walking distance, so I’ll just leave the car here" Naoya says immediately after —as if your consideration had any value towards his decisions— a hint of excitement behind his words. His golden eyes quickly dart to your face, longing to see your reaction.

It’s a habit of his since the beginning of the day, one that you battle with another habit of yours, which is to be your indifference.

At this, the heir's excitement rapidly diminishes and he can’t do anything else but press his lips together in a comforting gesture to push down his staggering disappointment.

"Let's go" Naoya then motions to the exit. And you, now too deep to back out, exhale whatever remains of your unwillingness and begin to follow him—down to the first floor of the building, out the parking lot and onto the city—all with the peculiar requirement of staying a few steps behind him.

He attempts to slow down with the intention of putting you in the front, or at least beside him, but whenever you seem to catch him doing so, you retaliate by slowing down, to the point where virtually neither of you are walking anymore.

The sudden cessation was both intriguing and embarrassing to him, which prompts Naoya to look back at you, pensive eyes wanting to ask if there was something wrong… but you never give him the opportunity for that since your attention remains glued the ground, as if it were the most interesting thing to be found in the streets of a city you’ve only been to once, ignoring him completely—as well as faulting to see the oddity of your actions.

This would be the first time Naoya would play the role of the “bigger person” and spare you unsolicited comments about what you’re doing and simply going on with his path.

He eventually stops at the corner of the street alongside the rest of a gathering crowd, presumably people that were finally heading to work or school, with you catching up just a few moments later.

The two wait for the light to change, observing how the counter goes on painfully unhurried, allowing cars to cross the street. It’s only until they begin to slow down that this impatience begins to lift, with the light blinking to yellow, and then red.

The surrounding pedestrians don’t hesitate to start walking as soon as the green figure appears on their designated traffic light, in fact, they do so with such urgency that engulfs both you and Naoya with apprehension, leading their minds to believe they were trapped in the middle of a growing, human stampede—where the only way out was by either stepping aside, or be carried away by it.

With this caution in mind, Naoya keeps a close eye on you, instinctively grabbing your hand as soon as he believes to have seen someone bump into you, tightly holding onto it while continuing to lead you across the road.

Unfortunately, even if you carried the same worries, you were not of the same mindset, so as soon as you felt his large hand inviting himself on your body once more, something inside you snapped. Bidding you to writhe and complain against his hold, attempts that grew stronger and stronger upon realizing he was not budging.

Adrenaline makes your heart pound heavily against your chest, echoing through your throat and into the ringing of your ears. This sentiment only pours into your brimming containment of frustration, a ticking bomb that goes off once you finally allow the words that had been circling your mind escape through your lips.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You seethed, and as if you’d been suddenly blessed with the extraordinary strength of your brother, you managed to harshly pull your arm in his opposite direction and free yourself from his grasp.

The sound of your voice is, although mostly deafened by the environment, still stands loud enough for those near you.

Sufficiently so, that for some the priority of arriving to their destination is halted, and replaced with awe and consternation they now looked at the conflicting couple with.

Their eyes and murmurs fell on your shoulders as a ton of bricks, which also forcefully snaps you out of rampaging trance and into the remembrance of the points you went through prior accepting Naoya’s request, as well as the damning actions that led you to your imminent death.

You were supposed to remain under the radar, quietly concede, but instead you’ve let your emotions get the best of you—with a crowd to act witness to, in a place that you were nothing but unfamiliar with, alone.

It was the same story as before, and your mind, which knows this all too well, swiftly begins to portray the way you envision Naoya reacting at your transgression. Depictions that intensify once you remember him to not be shy of an audience.

These thoughts are enough to drain the color of your face, as well as the strength of your voice, vision becoming blurry as you scurry to recover whatever was left to save.

"Na—Naoya—" you quavered, lifting your gaze from the ground and to his back, which you guessed would soon begin to shift, making way for his reddening gaze. You had to stop him before it came to that point, for your sake, for those back at the estate, for family! “I— I didn’t—”

"Let's move" But instead, that’s all that he says. Retracting his hand to the side as he pushes through the crowd, which was in the lower quantities now that most of them have already crossed to the other side "Were hindering the crosswalk"

He doesn't attempt to reach out to you after noticing the passerby’s reaction, and the thought stops crossing his mind. Still, remains close to you, attentive so as to not lose you in the crowd, continuing to guide you into the next destination, and all while he tries to deal with the agony of this scene.

The tone in which you referred to him at that particular moment is one he wishes to never hear again in his life. And not because it was to be considered rude, unladylike, a strike against his enormous ego (as noted by other relatives), or out of place as his wife; but rather… because it was nightmarish to experience it.

He'd seen your kindness, your gentleness, the soft spoken matter you've treated others—regardless if they were staff members or his relatives. Naoya has seen what your good nature is capable of, even when it pertains to his father, and yet… all that he ever gets is the dark side of your persona—the animosity, the hatred, the repulsion.

It’s not a stab he hasn’t received from you before, however, he doesn’t remember bleeding this much, nor can he figure out why he was suffering this much—yet to realize that your actions were nothing more than the consequences of his own doings, a slow comeuppance which briefly forces him to reflect on himself and ask what is wrong with me?

…

Only to conclude that it was his brother the one to sharpen your knife—an extension of just how close the two have gotten with one another, even if nothing intimate had occurred yet.

Back then, he would’ve thought of Naoaki as being nothing more than jealous of his own achievements, of his belongings—he’d always been that way, so it was only expected he’d continue playing the part.

But the more he thinks of it, the less it makes sense.

Because in what world would a man be jealous of something… he already has?

The walk seems to help cool down the flurry of emotions inside one another, enough to arrive at the place he intended to get a small bite from without any further precedent, but not enough to stop their inner thoughts from lingering behind to that moment: With you wondering if Naoya allowed this “incident” to slip his mind in favor of dealing with it later, while he kept on prodding open the wound your harsh words had inflicted on his heart, and on a much lower level, why nothing he keeps doing today seems to work for in his favor—certainly all had been far different from what Ranta had envisioned! Is there something he has yet to realize?

The restaurant that he decided to take you to was nothing more than a couple of blocks away, 3 to be precise, from the parking lot. Found between a clothing store and an electronics shop—a location that some might think odd due to its industry being far different from those surrounding it, as well as the nature of said establishment: a sushi restaurant.

At the awe this peculiar observation brings you, you don’t take long to indulge in the calming mundaneness of making up assumptions. Maybe the owner seized the place from a prior failed business, taking advantage of the location by offering something a bit more… alluring for those passing by.

From there, the other thing that intrigued you, although to a minimum since everything pertaining to this specific person was irrelevant to you, was how Naoya managed to find such a place. Considering he was either away most of the time with missions (you doubt he was deployed anywhere near his home, so when would he have time to indulge in the city?) as well as his arrogant behavior and the desire to treat everything nearby as beneath him—if it wasn’t expensive, then it wasn’t of his caliber.

Lavish wasn’t a word that you’d use to describe this place, at least… from an exterior perspective. The ragged posters of past promotions, the somewhat unkempt wooden doors, and the faint yellow tint of time on what you supposed was the menu were certainly not helping its case—you only knew it was open (and in business) due to the flashing “OPEN” sign beside the entrance.

Well, regardless of what led Naoya here soon faded into the background when it came to serving your own curiosity, which sparked once more when you found your way into the establishment, waiting by the entrance for a host to seat the pair in one of the tables available, giving you a brief moment to admire the decorations.

“Please, take a seat wherever you’d like! A waitress will be with you in a minute!” From all the way back, one of the cooks greets, head peeking just behind the bar, his face wearing a wide smile that was all inviting; a sentiment that you unfortunately did not share after quickly remembering who you were accompanied by, thanks to Naoya’s expressive comment of wanting a booth, highlighted as well by the fact that you two were the only customers there.

The two walk towards the booth and slide into it, sitting just across one another.

Whether that was intentional, or perhaps a miscalculation from Naoya’s part, who you were sure hoped you’d sit by his side, neither would know. A mystery to persist when a waitress eventually comes to the table, laying down a pair of menus on the surface and warmly welcoming them once more.

“Alright now—what can I get you to drink?” she asks with a smile.

“Green tea” Naoya is the first to respond, reaching over for a menu “Cold”

“And for you, miss?” The woman’s head swirls in your direction, her kind gesture is another that you unfortunately, do not replicate.

“...Just water with no ice, please” you murmur and with a quick nod, the woman leaves.

Your eyes follow her for a few seconds after her departure, trailing her up to the moment she arrives with the cook, seemingly sharing with him your table’s order as she grabs a few glasses from nearby.

You eventually return to the table, but unlike Naoya, you have no interest of skimming through the menu, even when you were borderline starving—you didn’t even get a chance to eat dinner the night before due to the strict fasting requirements to perform an accurate blood test—so it had been almost 12 hours since your last meal.

Yet, even with this strenuous condition, you refuse to indulge in your necessities, for you wanted to avoid anything that came from him, and subsequently, do something that could be interpreted as (greater) acceptance.

Either way, you should’ve known at this point that Naoya has an unnatural talent for figuring out what your mind is being troubled with, evident by the way he begins to fill the silence between the two with senseless chatter.

“I heard the nigiri here is particularly good.” Naoya suggests as he lowers the menu to both look at you as well as point at the many pictures of the dishes offered there—the nigiri in question. You don’t respond nor look up, eyes now fixed on your lap. After noticing this, and just like before, he purses his lips. He’s undoubtedly disappointed, yet he continues on “We can try different dishes, so if there’s something you want to—”

“I’m not hungry.” you reiterate, only lifting your gaze when the waitress comes back with a pair of cups—one filled with crystal clear water, and the other a slightly green tinted beverage. Your drinks.

“Here’s your drink” She says as she sets down Naoya’s glass first, and then yours. Her hand then reaches into her pocket and pulls out two white straws. “And some straws. Now, would you like to start with some appetizers?”

“What do you want?” Naoya hastily redirects the question onto you, a smart move on his part for he rightfully assumed you didn’t want to interact with him—maybe the waitress will offer a better outcome.

But you’d also prove to be one step ahead by shooting the question back to him.

“Whatever you want” you say, and those words lead to, yet again, provide the innocent outsiders a glimpse of the dark and heavy atmosphere that has been haunting the couple since their departure from the estate—the first sign of this coming into effect would be the subtle way in which the waitress swallows and holds her breath, darting glances between the two as she anxiously wait for any of them to either snap out of their awkward trance and order something, or dismiss her.

Since it looks like the latter isn’t going to happen anytime soon, the woman decides it was her role to intervene “I’ll give you more time” she says, giving a curt nod and beginning her way back to the kitchen. But before she’s able to do as much as take another step, Naoya speaks up.

“We’ll get an order of gyoza’s” he says, gesturing at the item on the menu “and edamame too”

“Of course, I’ll be right back with them” The woman doesn’t even bother to ask if they want something more as she gives him another bow and finally heads back to the kitchen.

“You have to eat something” Naoya says as soon as he deems the woman out of earshot—and even if she were, this was too important to ignore— leaning a bit forward to take a better look at your face, as well as show the seriousness of his words. “At least something”

You don’t respond, and the way your eyes remain low, even with his approach, sparks another conversation somewhere else…

“Just look at her face” Your waitress, who was named Akari as written in her tag, whispers to the only cook present in the kitchen “She hasn’t even looked at the menu, less at him!”

“Think they had a fight before arriving here?” The cook wonders as he goes over to the refrigerator, takes out a small package of edamame and pours it into a small black bowl.

“Definitely” Akari agrees “It’s evident she doesn’t want to be there. Whatever it was, I’m pretty sure it was his doing”

“Why are we even assuming he’s the reason behind her attitude? Besides, that’s a pretty harsh accusation, we don’t even know what kind of relationship they have ” “They both have rings on their ring finger, Hayate!!” She dramatically gestures at her ring finger “They’re married! Which I don’t know if it makes it better or worse”

“It makes it irrelevant for us” he sighs “Unless… well, they get into an argument here—if that happens, would it be right to call the cops?”

“I… wouldn’t go to that extreme” she muses, crossing her arms “I’d just ask you to kick them out though”

“Of course you would” He sighs “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t get that extreme—still, it’s undeniably you’re getting the short end of the stick here”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

“You get to serve them, I can’t even imagine how tedious it would be to work with customers like that—Thank god I’m just the cook”

“I mean, I’d be pissed too if I was brought to a sushi place so early in the morning to “make up” for whatever it is that happened—like, who comes to eat sushi so early in the morning?”

“Our boss, apparently”

The two share a chuckle, and the noise manages to catch your attention.

You lift your gaze towards them, and the sight that receives you is one that you can’t emotionally describe quite well. You’re torn in between being bothered by it, for you wanted the waitress to come back to overall rush your stay here, or feel envious, because you wished to partake in that kind of happiness as well—although that sentiment falters for a moment once you realize they were talking about you, judging by the way they went quiet as soon as you gaze crossed theirs.

Well, this just served to confirm what you already suspected, especially after the way you lashed out a few moments ago in the crosswalk—Naoya’s and your tumultuous relationship was becoming more and more apparent to everyone around, and you couldn’t feel anything but ashamed by it.

«It’ll be over soon, and then, it won’t matter» you attempt to console yourself «It’s just a matter of him eating, just… ignoring him, and before I know it I’ll be back with my staff and Naoaki»

Your eyes dart back to him, and his face seems to brighten up when he notices this.

“Y/N” The way he enunciates your name always made you feel… disgusted, if not resentful. You wished to condemn him for having the audacity to call you by your given name, but you instead, opt to save your energy for your survival. “I hope you at least try something, you’ve gone hours without eating, you must be starv—”

“I ate something before I left” you interject with a… well, half a life. Mariya did give you something small before leaving, so as to not leave your stomach completely empty, saying that it wouldn’t affect your results as much as many liked warn—it was still far from a meal… but you were appreciative of it nonetheless “I’m still full”

“What?” Naoya blinks “You ate something before the tests? You weren’t supposed to do that, I specifically ordered your staff to let you know! That means your results were probably incorrect!”

“Would it make any difference?” you murmur. You don’t know what it was, probably the way Naoya’s freaked out response irked you, but something inside you pushes you to respond—and by the way you continued on, no one would believe you were trying to remain undetected. “My cholesterol or sugar levels weren’t precisely the things the doctor intended to check”

Naoya tenses his jaw, keeping quiet. He’s not particularly fond of your snappy attitude, less when he had to admit that you were right.

“Still, you have to be careful, it’s for your own good”

“Mine? Or your clan’s?”

Naoya’s chest burns at the truth backfiring at his face once more—if there was one thing that he hated the most, it’s how much his clan intervened in his marriage with you.

But it was just one of the many agreements he had to obey if he was to become their leader and use their assets.

“Even if it was” he adds, replacing the harshness of your words with what he thinks is his truth, and perhaps… show you another perspective. “That’s not entirely true. You are my wife, and I care for you. I have to, as your husband”

“...you don’t have to” you refuted “it’s just as easy as letting me go”

“And for what would I do that?!” he unexpectedly rages, slamming his hands against the table. The items on the surface rattle, and both the waitress, the cook, and you are instinctively shaken to stare at him.

It’s not a mystery for him to understand why he had reacted in such a way—there were many insecurities flashing across his mind ever since he was demoted from all he held in life. You were the only thing that still remained, but even then, you were starting to slip through his fingers

Thus, for you to openly confess you want to leave angers him. However, this emotion fades into the background upon seeing you tremblingly drawing further and further into yourself, a sight that slowly cools the flames of his errors, leaving nothing but the burden of the following consequences if he doesn't mend his mistakes.

Naoya retracts his hands back under the table, clearing his throat by taking a sip of his drink before moving on. “It’s not easy”

You don’t respond, gaze on your lap.

“There’s too many… things to consider” he adds, as if trying to rekindle some understanding from you—but didn’t he just startle you a few seconds ago? And besides, whose fault was that?

There isn’t much room for conversation after that once the appetizers were finally delivered to your table.

Well, it’s not like there was much to discuss anyways; not when his intentions were already clear: he was just trying to save whatever he thought was left for him to control—no genuine intentions of getting along with you or even accepting his perpetrating role in your misfortune and giving you a solution… he just wants to save his face.

“Let’s not talk about that anymore. Eat” Naoya says, his attempt of moving forward from this tense situation as he grabs a pair of chopsticks the waitress brought along and picks up a gyoza for him “Try one”

“No, thank you” you shake your head. Your throat had gone dry after this interaction, but as appetizing as the glass of water seemed, you couldn’t dare to reach for it.

“Y/N. I’m not going to let you starve, I know you’re lying about eating something before coming” He says, and his tone is… somewhat condescending to you, as if he were treating you like a child.

Being in the mere presence of your husband was conflicting in all possible levels—you stood there, unable to fix your emotions to either be afraid of him, or angered.

“Remember that you have to eat more” he emphasizes. “I personally wouldn’t let this pass, since you won’t get these at the estate. Believe me, I tried”

Add incredulous to the list.

“I thank you for your generosity, Naoya-sama, but really, I’m not hungry”

In the usage of those honorifics, Naoya is… bewildered.

Even when the general purpose of them was to refer to said person with the highest regard, coming from you, at this particular moment, they felt… wrong, misplaced. As if intended to mock his unfortunate position, or emotionally distance yourself from him.

No. That couldn’t be it, at least for the first. He’s seen you be crass, but it was never with these topics—or so he assumes since you get along with those he considered inferior.

So instead, he simply concludes what his heart already knows to be true: you did this because you don’t want to relate to him… and for the nth time that day, he wonders how could this relate to his brother.

And in a similar nature as yours, he too has enough of holding back the distaste of a crowded marriage, and he isn’t able to stop himself from allowing his thoughts to finally escape his lips.

“Do you speak to Naoaki like that?” He asked. “Treat him like you treat me?”

“Excuse me?” you breathe, caught off guard by his sudden question, as well as the terror that his mentioning might implicate. Fearing such a thing, you remain speechless, hoping to avoid breaking the thin ice he’d seemed to plunge you into any further.

“I asked if you speak to my brother like that” he reiterates and you feel your tortured heart sink deeper into your stomach. His words, far from presenting a genuine interest, seem to be the beginning of a scolding which could only trail to something worse. With Naoya you can never be too sure, so wishing to control any damage from spreading any further , you respond.

“I speak to everyone in your house respectfully” is what you carefully say, hoping that this statement would be enough of an answer to sway the topic out of his mind, but with the rumors that had been circulating the two you doubt it’ll be the end of it. You just have to look back at how he threatened you the night you denied him to expect the worst.

The conversation eerily seems to end when he refocuses his attention back on eating, and subsequently, ordering more dishes. He stops trying to convince you to try anything out.

The rest of the time goes awfully slow for the two, apparently worse for Naoya who concludes that all of his efforts in this stage of Ranta’s plan had been for nothing. If anything, it seems he just pushed you further away from him.

Doubling down on that statement when he notices the way the waitress had begun to approach them, a slight edge of caution in her words, a hesitancy apparent by the way her hands trembled when serving him, all thanks to the pulsating fear of being in receiving end of another one of Naoya’s belittlement.

Realizing this endeavor was to end in nothing short of failure, your husband decides to call for the check and leave.

As he’s taking out his wallet, his mind inadvertently takes him to the moment Ranta was explaining to him how to proceed after leaving the doctor’s office.

“—Everyone likes a good place to eat. Remember that one sushi restaurant we went to during summer? You can take her there! The food is good, it’s close, and is open early so… be sure to order the favorites, I’m sure she’ll be tempted to try them—who doesn’t like sushi after all?”

«Well, even if she likes them, it didn’t work» Is what Naoya says to himself as he slides the same card he’s been using to pay all of his expenses into the terminal (thankfully it hasn’t been canceled, although he presumes it’ll only be the next course of action if he dares do something that further angers his family) before quickly typing his PIN into it.

Once the machine signals its approval, he removes the card from the slot and stashes it back into his wallet.

The couple leaves the restaurant empty handed. He won’t say he didn’t think of buying something for you to eat on later, but he rightfully assumes you’re not going to eat it anyways, so why waste money?

Believing the day to be done, you begin to head back to the parking lot. You really couldn’t get this done any faster, go back to the estate, and just… stay away from everything that might remind you of Naoya.

It was a shame that you had to go through those emotional turmoil with him, but that was now over, and now, your interest was solely on the reactions you’ll have from your staff after you tell them what happened…

A sight that will be postponed once more upon hearing Naoya call you, as well as the irritation sensation of his presence obnoxiously close to you.

This change of events sends a jolt of concern and irritation through your body as you stop on your track, disdainfully wondering what he would possibly want to bother you with now.

“Y/N” he says, taking steps towards you, which you reinstate by taking one away from him. Your response falters him for the moment, but not enough to stop his words, which only show his determination to complete whatever plan he had assembled with Ranta.

If he was to lose, he’d rather lose trying.

“I was thinking we could go on a walk, see the city”

“It’s too early” you immediately respond “Most of the stores aren’t even open”

“Some are” he corrects “I don’t know how the activity is in your area, but this city is quite lively during early hours of the day so there’s a lot of businesses working already”

«That wouldn’t be the first thing you don’t know about me» you think «Do you even know who you married?»

“I’m tired” you excuse “It’s been a long morning for me”

“It’s been for me too” he says, and you hold back the overwhelming urge to snap at him. Why must it always be a competition between the two?

But having done so twice, and seen a glimpse of his anger moments ago, you accept the fact that whatever it was that Naoya already set his mind to was to be considered the law, thus, you reluctantly agree once more to his request, turning around and gesturing him to guide the way, as well as letting him know you are not taking any pleasure in accompanying him by the stern look in your face.

“I just want a distraction” he says, another one of his attempts to strike a conversation with you. “Away from the estate, from the elders, don’t you want that too?”

“No” you respond curtly. Contrary to him… “I have too much work to do I can’t simply ignore”

When he was once unsure of your capability to mock someone's social ranking, he’s now confident that your words were nothing more than a direct jab at his unfortunate disposition.

He’s used to being the punching bag of his family when committing mistakes, shaming them, but different to training, this is something he’s never grown immune to—certainly less when it comes from someone… different.

But just as he’s done in the past, Naoya will bear through it. He’ll push through the agony your indifference brings to him, as if it were the pain of his father’s vigorous training, and hopefully reap the benefits of a job well done.

The two begin to walk, or more likely dragged, towards the avenue you quickly identified to be the main street of the city, but there was rarely any sightseeing on your part.

As before, your eyes are glued onto the pavement, distracting yourself by indulging in the childish game of not stepping over the lines, or looking up to the people before you so as to not bump into them.

Not getting to see this part of Kyoto is not something you think will bring you regret in the future, since you’d always wanted to explore the country with your family. Wasting this opportunity only meant that you were saving it for the right moment.

And even then, if you don’t ever get to see this part with them, it’s ok. Because after you're gone from the estate, you’ll never, ever come back.

These were to be the reasons as to why you further ignored Naoya and his unrequited commentary about the surrounding stores—rambles of what he thinks of them, as well as questioning if there was one you wanted to check one out… as if he were a tour guide of sorts.

Naoya had always been talkative, that much you could remember, but you never thought of him to be engaging with you, always placing all of the attention on him.

It must’ve been nothing more than attempting to fix the poor outlook others were starting to have about the two. To appear well-grounded, healthy in their eyes or perhaps, it’s his mind trying to create this world where he’s not a piece of shit and he actually gets along with you—the waitress’s startled look must’ve pushed him to that.

It must be nice to only have to worry about what others are thinking of you, you conclude, and you wish you could be that delusional—maybe his actions wouldn’t hurt you so much.

“No, baby, you mustn't bother them” Suddenly, a low yet fretting voice of a woman interrupts your thoughts. “They’re busy”

“But mama…” a smaller voice, presumably the child of the woman, responds “I want to!”

“Sweetie, we’re going to be late…”

Your gaze follows the direction of this conversation, and soon after, is welcomed with the sight of said woman and young girl.

The two seemed to be completely engulfed in their conversation, until by some reason, as if sensing your eyes, the young mother lifts her gaze towards you, staring at you for a few seconds before the child mimics her mother’s actions, wasting no second to seize this opportunity as her cue to rush into your direction, stopping only when she was less than two feet away from you.

Now you and Naoya are staring at her, dumbfounded, with you wondering if you’re going to have to step in to prevent the daughter from running further away from the mother, while Naoya alarmingly attempts to seek the reason behind their approach, did you know them? If so, then he had to act accordingly.

But you did not. Yet, that wasn’t enough to sway the little girl away from you, not even after receiving the astonished stares of two strangers was enough to intimidate her away from following her desires, mustering all the courage she could find—looking up to you with big round shiny brown eyes, blushing chubby cheeks, and a pout—to say what she wants to say.

“You’re very pretty, nee-san” the little girl eventually chips “I like the butterflies on your hair!”

And her words, while it took a while for you to process them, are the only ones that manage to bring out a smile from you that day, a response that doesn’t escape Naoya’s, nor the mother’s, sight, while they continue to watch the unfolding interaction.

“Oh, thank you” you say, a soft smile on your lips “You’re very sweet”

“Ah, I’m so sorry!” the mother breathes once she catches up to her daughter's side, taking the young child’s hand and apologetically bowing before the couple. “I told her to not bother you, you seemed in a hurry—”

“That’s not necessary! It’s ok” you chuckle, reassuringly dismissing her regret. The woman already looked as if she were having a rough time herself, probably due to her free-spirited daughter, the least you could do is ease her burdens. “Your daughter was just being nice”

“Mama… I want butterflies just like hers….” the girl whines, now facing her mother while slightly tugging at her arm as to underline her necessity.

The woman presses her lips together, considering whether to indulge her daughter or just leave. But just like any mother, she succumbs to the view of her child’s adorable puppy eyes.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where did you get those clips?” The woman asks. Even when she was deeply ashamed for the seeming imprudence of her daughter, she was still capable of sharing her same sentiment and admit that you were beyond beautifully dressed. As well as the peculiar young man that seemed to accompany you—dressed in a minimal, tailored head to toe black outfit. With this, she could only assume the two came from a rich background.

It’s no wonder why the mother didn’t want to interact with them in the first place , she was probably scared that the two were to be nothing more than the stereotypical snobs to her daughter!

Thankfully, your kindness showed that her preconceived notions were nothing but that, which became another reason to allow her daughter’s question.

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t know, since they were a wedding gift”

“Oh” The woman blinks, a deep shade of regret burning her cheeks at the reveal, worsening when catching sight of the rings on yours and Naoya’s hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were with your husband! Had I known I would’ve done a better job at controlling my daughter!”

“It’s fine, she’s just a kid” you shake your head, chuckling. “And her words were nothing but uplifting, really. Don’t worry about it”

“You’re very kind…” The woman sighs “Well, I won’t keep you two anymore, thank you and have a nice evening”

And with that, the mother and her child give you and your husband a quick bow before continuing on with their path, with the young girl asking her what a wedding gift was and wondering if she would be able to get one, presumably thinking that was the only way to get your same hair clips. The mother tells her that maybe when you’re older she’ll get one, already thinking if she could do a quick visit to a nearby accessory store, or maybe those 100 yen shops to get her something similar and quiet the first wave of many questions she knows she’ll be getting in a bit.

As their voices begin to fade into the distance, you begin to return to reality. The delightful interaction with the young girl and her glistening eyes of admiration slowly disappear from your mind, returning to the shackling sense of dread brought upon by your companion.

In a way, you were thankful for the little girl’s intervention, even if it were for just a moment, it brought you a glimpse of genuine happiness you were sure to not have for the rest of the day, serving you a shot of determination to make it through this difficult moment.

You eventually wonder if he, contrary to you, was annoyed at the young girl. The only example of him interacting with other kids were his cousins, and he never seemed to like them (nor speak to them), aside from thinking of them as less—and you’re not even going to start about how little he’s done to defend their right to their own life.

So it was safe to assume he was less than thrilled by this interruption.

«Well, at least he had the decency to remain quiet before them» you say as you retake your aimless path back on the streets of the city «but probably for nothing more than appearances»

You weren’t that off when it came to assuming Naoya’s reaction, however, he wasn’t affected by their imprudence, but rather, from being in awe at your kindness which he thought unavailable for the moment, to the analysis of the compliments given by the family.

He was never one to entertain the words of others that did not relate to him in any shape or form, thinking that their points of view were rather… unprepared, to not say ignorant, and out of touch.

But for this occasion, he had to agree with their words, for it was the same sentiment he shared upon seeing you at the estate before leaving. He always considered you beautiful, and the clothes his family had given you only highlighted this fact.

He doesn’t think there’s anyone that would look better in such lavish garments, and this train of thought leads him to remembrance of the last attire you wore when out.

Naoya never said it out loud, but he particularly liked how you looked in that yukata. There was something about the contrast between yellow and blue, and your adorable face, that made it impossible for him to stray his eyes from you.

It pains him now to remember how he couldn’t enjoy the view any longer, cut unwillingly short due to a woman he couldn’t even remember what was her name, as well as his father’s—

Naoya frowns. He doesn’t want that to happen. Not again.

He wants to start anew, compensate for that day and all that could’ve been.

After all, you’re his wife and he’s your husband. And he wants you to know that.

“Y/N” he says, hoping to find some semblance of your kindness still lingering behind, at least enough for you to respond. But even if you didn’t, the nostalgia forces Naoya to continue on “I… I also think you look pretty today”

Your gaze is focused into nothingness, unwilling to look up to him as the two continue walking.

“And you did back then, too. The last time we went out” your husband quietly adds “Even if I didn’t say it back then, I mean it now”

Suddenly, you halt. And your husband who had grown accustomed to your silent treatment unwittingly flinches at the abruptness of your motion, hastily focusing a worried glance on you, whose head slowly began to turn to see him.

He wasn’t sure of what to expect from his genuine approach, outside of his own experiences: a smile, a blush, or even the coy act of humbly denying his words…

But anger, and the appalling way it took a hold of your features, was not one of them.

Your now frowning eyes, tense jaw, and the overall afflicted look on your face seemed to be asking him if his words were meant to be taken seriously—and he wishes to say that they were, but this desire crashes with another thought he can’t seem pinpoint (he realizes he’s been stumbling into that dilemma far more often than he would like) outside of confusion, leading him to blindly charge into this situation, oblivious to the context his “compliment” was perceived with.

“Did I say something wrong…?”

You no longer hold the urge to scoff before looking away.

His self unawareness was already on immeasurable lengths, and yet, it just kept getting bigger by the day! How is it possible that someone so repetitive still continues to baffle you?

Even when you thought it couldn’t be any worse than what it was, he’s like a never ending matryoshka—more just seems to come out of him!

How… How could he comment such a thing about how you looked on the day you were sentenced to death?!

It’s now clear to you that the perception of that day was vastly different for the two— while that was the moment your life was officially ruined, to him, it was just another weekday.

Just thinking about that awful day, no matter how many times you did, always reopened the wound in your heart.

From the faint memory of the doctor, the medicine you were forced to take, to that damned yellow yukata… it was nothing but agony.

You even recalled a time you couldn’t even glance at your closet because you knew that garment was stored there, tainted with the vicious way your husband had dragged you across the estate, followed by your pleads, forced on your knees, for mercy towards your innocent staff… ending with you rushing back to your bedroom after Naobito sentenced you to death—careless if it was ripped, dirtied, or dampened even more with your tears as you locked yourself away from the world.

Eventually, you presume, after noticing such behavior, Mariya decided to act, and one day that infamous yukata was nowhere to be found.

There's no leads as to what happened to it, if it’s stored somewhere else, in a room your staff believes you’ll never stumble into, perhaps already reintroduced into the market after Hitomi fixed it, or even… thrown away.

Well, wherever it was, you were glad it was gone.

It might not mean much, but it gives you a cathartic peace of mind to not see it in your room anymore. Managing to take, even if just a little, the pain of that horrible day.

If only it was possible to do the same with your wedding ring…

Circling back to his words, it comes to no surprise to you that Naoya would think so highly of that garment. After all, wasn’t that the day that you were crudely reminded of was expected of you?

It was like a… commemoration of such advancement.

Yeah, that had to be it—Everything provided by them was nothing more than a collection of warnings and trophies… to remind you of who were the new owners of your life and their capabilities.

Unaware of the turmoil in your mind, Naoya continues to see you in astonishment, processing the sight that is slowly pushing him to retaliate, seeking to understand why you’d been so dismissive with all of his thoughtful words, but Ranta’s memory stops him yet again.

“She’s not going to be very perceptive at your attempts, but keep trying” He warned “You have to show her that you’re better than your brother!”

It's ironic to say that his best friend knew much more of you and your feelings than your own husband… which makes Naoya wonder just how much actually went down when he was away, as well as to why Ranta decided to leave those alleged details out.

But even with these observations Naoya was yet to find the reason behind your animosity—struggling to understand that Naoaki was only a symptom, not the sickness—or a way to slow down the rift growing between the two.

He's tempted to declaring this mission as an indisputable failure… that is, just by the corner of his eye, he manages to see you momentarily lift your gaze from the concrete floor and onto a nearby small rack filled to the brim of products, analyzing it for a few seconds before trailing it down the store from which it supposedly originated: a record shop.

With its windows plastered with posters, from either the latest releases, merch announcements, and best sellers, these were all things that were intended to attract any passerby into walking in, but had remained undetected to Naoya’s mind.

Yet, it allured you, enough to snap you out of your tunnel vision of determined apathy towards him—and it’s with this new advancement that Naoya regains hope, as well as curiosity to find out what managed to catch your attention in the first place, which he pushes by heading towards the store.

He naturally expects you to do the same, even with your slight rejection, but unfortunately, it does not happen, which prompts him to stop and look back at you.

Naoya might not have the best of social skills, but he was still able to understand there was something else bothering you, aside from his words, that prevented you from following him, judging by the hesitant look on your face.

If your previous reaction wasn’t intriguing enough, this for sure was.

“I wanted to check something” is what he says as soon as his eyes land on yours, hoping to nudge you into the right direction. "It's going to be quick"

And after a few seconds of your consideration, that seems to do the trick. Lightly biting your lip, you push down the eerie sensation his sudden interest granted you, and you finally walk just right behind Naoya and into the establishment.

The first thing that catches their attention upon entering is the amount of album covers, from all kinds of artists and groups, decorating every inch on the walls. If the windows were not enough to show what they were offering, then this would.

Another subject of interest was the unforeseen size of the store.

If they hadn’t stepped inside, they would’ve never guessed the business continued on to the sides, as if taking the space of two establishments, with a set of stairs that hinted at a second floor.

From there, the shelves found across the floor, filled with cd’s and vinyl’s alphabetically organized for the customers to look through at their discretion—just as the one that caught your interest outside.

The couple thought to be alone, that is until at the far end of the room, to the left and just besides the stairs, a cash register was to be found, attended by a young man —presumably a part-time student, assumed by the fact that he looked not that older than you— made his presence known by dejectedly welcoming the couple into the store—a greeting that by some reason, went unanswered from both.

The silence engulfing the two is… suffocating—has been since they left the estate. However, contrary to the waitress, the young worker doesn’t seem to mind nor care as long as they don’t bother him more than necessary. It’s now evident that he doesn’t particularly strive to work there out of the goodness of his heart.

“Is there something you were looking for in particular?” The employee asks, stepping closer to the two—he might be uninterested, but there are still cameras to ensure he’s working.

“No” Naoya responds firmly. “We’re just looking”

“Well, if there’s something you need help with, don’t hesitate to reach out to me” he says before returning to his previous post immediately after.

From there, nothing seems to happen.

You don’t move, you don’t reach over to look at the albums, and you certainly do not talk. It’s almost as if this was his idea to begin with, and not the other way around.

Naoya is in dire need of a change from the constant demeanor you’re harboring towards him. There must be a reason why this store caught your attention, far from the other flashy stores he thought you’d be interested in.

And as the analytical man he is, a solution ultimately crosses his mind.

Perhaps (definitely) you’re not doing much simply because he’s present. Maybe, if he were to step away, you’ll be prompted to act on your own, and then, the reason behind your interest will unveil itself.

And that’s exactly what he ends up doing.

“I’ll go check upstairs, stay here” he casts as bait, and without time to waste, he hastily heads towards the stairs and onto the second floor.

But of course, he doesn’t intend to stay there. If there was a way for him to see what you were doing from his position perhaps he would’ve, but that isn’t the case; so after waiting out a few seconds to convincingly make you believe he was gone, Naoya tip-toes back down the stairs, stopping midway when he gets a clear glimpse of you, and observe if you’ve done anything new.

Which… you haven’t, not until you come to terms with an internal debate, considering whether or not to rummage through the discs, choosing the latter when you walk towards the other room —Naoya closely following you— and onto the many shelves, specifically those containing vinyl’s, to browse through them.

Your husband is discreet, presence undetectable, all while keeping a close eye on you.

He watches the nimble work of your hands riffle through the albums, separating them just enough to see the cover and decide whether you want to take it out to get a better look, or move onto the next one—he doesn’t distinguish a particular order on your decisions when you finally take one out, seemingly doing so by the eye-catchiness of the cover, although another mystery steps in, one that seeks to find out why you’d settled for vinyls instead of cd’s, since most were out of fashion and were only around for collectors to grab.

Was this a hobby? If so, he understands having them. He had some himself, but he can’t recall you ever talking about music in particular.

Would this be something you were previously starting to explore? Try out something new, contrasting from what’s usually found in the mundane home of the Zen’in?

Naoya certainly doesn’t think you’re finding interest in the boring books from his library, even when Ranta informed him you were there once, or even his father’s old records, so he presumes that must be it.

Well, if everything goes as planned, he’s confident he can share a bit of his own collection with you. Naoya has a rather impressive one that he harbored through many years, it’s definitely bound to—

“Um, is… uh, is everything ok?” The same employee from before, who had limited himself to simply observing the couple he already thought weird as soon as they set foot in the store, approaches, swiftly cutting through his thoughts.

As stated before, the young man didn’t ask that question out of the goodness of his customer service heart, he only did so because he was getting a bit freaked out by the way Naoya was intently staring at the young woman whom he thought had come along with him.

His behavior led him to believe otherwise, thus prompting him to step in.

But Naoya, who didn’t see how he was being perceived (not now, not ever) was all but annoyed by this distraction, evident by the way his head darts to glance at him, angered, setting him to be the unwilling victim of all the frustrations he’s been holding in.

“What?!” he breathes “Can’t you see I’m busy??”

“Well—I—” the man flinches. “I was just…”

“Asking? I see” Naoya gives him a mocking smile “Clearly, I’m looking at my wife?”

“Wife?” The employee blinks, perplexed. First of all, what kind of weirdo stares at their wife like that? And secondly, now that he knows that, he feels sorry for you.

In the end, he’s glad he doesn’t know them. He can only imagine how embarrassing it must be to hang out with them, or for you in that case, to be constantly caught in the middle of your husband’s buffoonery…

Unless you were the same, of course, which would make sense because you were purportedly married to him.

Well, that isn't his problem to ruminate on, and once the man understands that this is beyond his grasp, asides from not finding any real harm (if Naoya were saying the truth), decides to step away and go back to the register and finish inputting into the system whatever new product they got that day overnight.

Your husband is quick to jump back to his previous behavior, critically so, for he was worried this unforeseen interaction had alerted you of his whereabouts—dissipating the tension out of his shoulders with a sigh upon realizing you hadn’t.

However, you had stopped skimming through the albums, because your attention was now solely set on one of them, eyes fixed at the cover before turning it around and reading through the song list.

The way you stare at it with the highest of attention, before moving into another equally intriguing album per your discernment ignites a bigger flame of curiosity inside Naoya—and now, he genuinely wants to know the fascination behind your particular selection, as well as from the one album you can’t seem to keep your eyes from.

Determining you’d lowered your guard, he takes the following step by approaching you, all while silently pleading this will finally be the moment you’ll open up to him.

“Do you like that artist?” He asks, and caught off guard by his sudden return, you instinctively flinch and slam the album back into its place, a noise that catches the attention of the poor worker who can’t seem to catch a break and glance at two, wondering whether something had fallen off the walls—only to be sharply dismissed by Naoya.

You quickly return your hands to the side, as if trying to hide the fact that you were invested in your surroundings, letting your guard down for a second, when it was something you could not afford to do— you’re not safe yet.

Still, even when your conscience is telling you to do otherwise, your wistful gaze can’t sway away from the album you’ve just discarded. A sight enough to motivate your husband into ignoring your stinging reaction and pursuing the significance you’ve placed on it.

“I want to know” he reaffirms, now eyeing the same spot as you do “It looked… interesting”

You’re having your own doubts at this precise moment. More so because you don’t want to partake in conversation with a person that never did, and never will, cared for you, less of something so important to you.

But just as it happened to him, there’s something inside you that prompts you to do so. Urges you to indulge in the emotional significance that these particular albums bring you… perhaps due to the absence of those that this reminded you of, wanting nothing more than to bask in it and forget all that torments you.

So, you do. Against your better judgment, to regret in the future —that’s something that you’ll have to deal with later— carefully grasping the first album that caught your attention and pulling it out.

“Who are they?” Naoya asks once he gets a better look at the cover since they don’t seem familiar at all.

All that he can make out of it are the words of the album’s title, or what he presumes to be the title anyways, with each word accompanied by a portrait of young women whom he rightfully guesses to be the members of said group. Evidently, all foreign.

“They’re a group called the Spice Girls” you inform. “They’re English, but they were still pretty big back in the day.”

“I can… see that” Naoya raises an eyebrow, now analyzing the members.

He doesn’t think of any of them as particularly attractive, nor does he ever remember hearing about them. Well, he doesn’t listen to much that isn’t anime, or praises for him either way.

“Do you like them?” he continues.

“Not as much as Ren did” you add, and the memory of his fanaticism makes your lips curve upwards, a gesture that you’re quick to subdue as soon as you remembered whom you were with. “He… bought all of their records as soon as they were available. He liked them so much that he actually learned english”

You remember growing up listening to their songs, but that was nothing compared to your brother.

He was such an avid fan, to the point he would obsess over each and every piece of merchandise he could get his hands on. Ren owned all the VHS’ of their concerts, all of the albums, singles, posters and clothing—even the dolls. The only thing left was to attend a concert itself. Either way, he would have it all, which makes one wonder how did he even get the money for all that?

But his admiration didn’t end there. It continued on by affecting his personal life, starting by nicknaming you and Hinata with the same names the press had given them once they became famous.

Hinata was quick to decide, she was to be Sporty due to her fascination with training and whatnot. And she… Well, she didn’t really care. She actually liked the name for a while, until Gojo decided to mock her with it, or change it to what he considered to be a more accurate one: Scary. But even then, she didn’t find it in her heart to ask Gojo to stop calling her that because she knew how much Ren liked the group.

From there, Ren didn’t have to think that hard on who he wanted to be either, and that was to be Ginger, his favorite. He liked her assertive personality (as well as considering her to be the prettiest), which heavily influenced his behavior in his early years, preaching about girl power whenever he could, and even painting a streak of his hair blonde just so he could look like her…

So one could only imagine how inconsolable he was when her departure was announced, uncontrollably sobbing and wailing, spiraling deep into his sadness, to the point where he even refused to go to school.

Your mother managed to stop him from committing such an act, of course, doing her best to comfort him even though she knew she had no power to change what’s already written, still, that didn’t stop her from trying, or him from crying at school for that matter.

And finally, you. Another decision that was equally as easy as your predecessors due to your circumstances.

“Which one were you?” Naoya asks, and you sigh.

“Baby, because I was the youngest”

“And which one’s that?” He raises an eyebrow.

“The blonde one, this one” you say, pointing to the blonde girl posing in front of the “P”

“You don’t look like her.” he comments.

“I never said I did.” you frown.

“Right…” he frowns too “Well, did you at least like that nickname?”

His interest seems to be more of an interrogation rather than a conversation, but too deep into this rabbit hole, you concede.

“No. I always liked Posh better” The one you considered to be the cool one, now pointing to the brunette on the “S” “But it doesn’t matter, it’s was just a nickname”

It felt weird to admit that, out loud at least, since you’ve never done so with your brother before.

Well, it had been so long ago… it really doesn’t matter anymore. Ren had outgrown them either way.

“Well, you can still like it or not.” he says.

«How… ironic» you think. «Since when does my opinion matter to him?»

And with this new information, Naoya is… Well, he won’t say that he’s fascinated by the group. They seemed average at best. You certainly didn’t fit the mold when it came to be compared to them, you being much better of course.

And Ren didn’t have weight in his mind either, although it was kind of funny to hear that the man that was considered to be a monster in the physical sense of the word, used to endlessly obsesses for a girl group. No different from those that do the same over idols nowadays. Naoya ironically states that he could never.

Nonetheless, there was still a sense of sadness entwined with your voice when you spoke of these things, as if there was something deeper, bigger—more influential than you were letting on.

His assumptions grow stronger when he sees you return the album back into its place and reach out for the second album you were observing afterwards, the one you slammed back into place, and your eyes dim.

This one was of an entirely different person, someone he vaguely remembers seeing somewhere— but can’t put his finger on where just yet.

“Did your brother like him too?” He pursues these observations.

“No” you pause, nostalgically looking at the album in your hand; none other than Michael Jackson’s Thriller. “My mother did”

“Oh” Naoya muses, and he notes that this is the first time you mentioned her.

Now that he thinks about it… he doesn’t remember seeing her at the wedding, or even being mentioned. He’s heard rumors of her of course, but never… official statements, nor did he seek to find an answer. Thus, there’s only one safe assumption to make as to her whereabouts.

“I guess you heard a lot of music when growing up, hm?” he says, moving on from the topic.

That, you did.

Music was to be considered… highly influential in your life. The closest example is how you learned to speak what little you know of English thanks to your brother’s fanaticism.

But even then, that would still be miniscule compared to the impact it had on you in the bigger picture—because it also defined your existence.

After all, it's how your parents met.

#series: first it hurts—#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x your #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader

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ultfan · 23 days

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just finished writing komaeda's bio for his carrd! jfc i wasn't intending it to get so long. but if you don't read it all i do want to quote this bit, as it is one of my favorites:

komaeda was different from his fellow despairs. his motives for joining ultimate despair were not based in the same infatuation for junko enoshima the others had— not based in the same need to drown himself in despair. rather, he joined so that he could see it rise— only to come crashing down. komaeda believed that despair was nothing in the face of hope… and that ultimate despair, including junko enoshima, would eventually face utter defeat. in joining ultimate despair, in working with the girl he loved and hated more than anyone else in the world, he would be able to cultivate that great hope. a hope like no other. the ultimate hope that could wipe out every last trace of despair in the world. during the tragedy there was no one quite like komaeda. he never actively did anything… not unless he was told to. he was willing to do what his fellow despairs asked of them— receive their orders, receive their abuse. but he contributed to the tragedy in his own way, independent of the other despairs. in short: komaeda was a force of nature. a natural disaster. a ticking bomb that could go off at any time, hidden away under the guise of a generally pleasant young man. in order to avoid tragic events— to avoid the despair of having those he cared about being taken away from him— he had started avoiding people. but now that was no longer an issue. he was here to drag out all of the worlds despair to the surface. and so, there was no issue if he found himself getting closely involved with other people. refugee groups, resistances— all those innocent people… all those people trying to fight against ultimate despair and bring hope back to the world. he would befriend them. he would join them, get invested in their fight, get invested in their struggle to survive. and his bad luck would send tornados through their camps— cause buildings to collapse on their leaders— cause tragedy after tragedy to wipe them out. but komaeda, while briefly despaired by each loss, would quickly get over it. they didn't survive because their hope was weak. far too weak to overcome ultimate despair. they clearly weren't the people he was searching for. luckily, he would survive all the incidents. and he'd benefit greatly from them— gaining supplies, intel, access to places he shouldn't. the rainbow of fortune shined upon him at the end of every storm. and he shared that fortune with ultimate despair, only further increasing their power.

#this is my absolute favorite way to think about komaeda during the tragedy #it just makes sm sense #♡₊˚ ☘️・₊✧ » ooc : post ─ 𝘏𝘖𝘓��𝘌𝘙 𝘖𝘍 𝘒𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘌𝘋𝘈 𝘏𝘖𝘛 𝘛𝘈𝘒𝘌𝘚. ❞#♡₊˚ ☘️・₊✧ » ic : study ─ 𝘏𝘖𝘗𝘌 𝘚𝘗𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘚 𝘌𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘕𝘈𝘓 𝘍𝘙𝘖𝘔 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘈𝘕 𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘛. ❞

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laststandx3 · 9 months

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I think there’s a case for “heather could have stopped tozer from joining the mutiny,” a big part of why he joined seems to be that hickey could use his grief over heather to convince him that crozier wasn’t looking out for the marines

Exactly!!! very real case!! this why i'm here screaming about it in polls.

Because Heather was THAT important for Tozer than after he died (in an horrific way) Tozer wasn't the same man anymore.

And of course Hickey took advantage of that grief, but what if we have the same story and the only thing we change is that Heather survives? There's still a monster hunting them, there's still the arctic cold around them, there's still people that burned alive at carnivale.

If Heather is there with Tozer after Carnivale there are still point that one can make against Crozier's leadership. There is still a base for a mutiny. To try and save your skin because so far the captain hasn't capitaned much.

Personally I think both Tozer and Heather would have joined the mutiny. And this comes from the fact that they're really close and that we actually see Tozer advocating (in a way) for the marines before Hickey got any chance to even think of a mutiny.

and let's assume it wasn't Heather the last victim of the Tuunbaq. It was another man. There are already dead marines who don't really belong in the expedition.

Tozer is making the Heather is strong speech, yes but he's also pointing out how none of them choose to be there. It's a vent out of fear for his life, for his close friends life. but it's based on a belief he already had. They had no choice, that they had no extra pay, that they were the first line, first to cut down (an acceptable sacrifice because their job as put them there)

If Tozer had these beliefs before the mutiny there's no reason that someone very close to him wouldn't share them.

And Hickey overhears it and that is why he can get Tozer in the mutiny, because they have the some common knowledge that command isn't looking out for you.

Now an extra because I'm obsessed with scenes nobody talks about:

When Sir John visits the marines waiting for the Tuunbaq. You can say whatever you want about sir John but the one thing he was good at was approaching the men. He's always kind, constructive and positive. He's was a man of politics after all. So when he visits the marines he brings them booze, makes jokes and compliments them on their cleverness of using the rats as bait. They take a picture for posterity and like a good politician now that he showed up and did nothing he can go back to the safety and warmth of his ship. Franklin doesn't want to freeze his ass any longer. Already about to shake hands. Then Tozer stops him : Then sit with us Captain, why don't you? Perhaps it can be you who fires the shot that will convince it [Tuunbaq]

Heather: At least be here to see it felled

script dialogue. that tells us that Franklin gets touched by the offer, it leaves us no indication on how to understand Tozer's offer. So when he invites Franklin to stay, my interpretation is that he does it out of being a little annoyed at his boss. Have you seen how Franklin moves around? He has the pose of a man who's never lift a finger in his life, can you imagine him firing a weapon? can you imagine him firing the striking shot? You can't tell me that Tozer invitation is genuine praise for his captain. And then Heather who sees that Tozer aimed to high with Franklin's vanity reframes it a little. (have you ever told a lie with your bestie and they sort of adjust your version of the story?) This is why I think that Tozer and Heather share at least the core idea that pranking your boss it's a good thing to do there's a gap from the marines and anyone else there. They are technically the ONLY ones who give Franklin's authority a lesser weight. You can't imagine this little prank made by anyone else. To everyone else the captain is THE authority and they would never ever imagine that authority wouldn't see thought you. But Tozer and Heather do. they don't owe Franklin/command anything because they're not there looking for glory, the country, or an hawaian vacation. They're there because they got assigned to the job. And they do feel the gap between them and everyone else, and when there's an us and them than it's enough seed to start a mutiny.

#this is my very not short explanation of why i think both tozer and heather would join the mutiny #heather had one line and oh man he did stayed silly!#anyway since we're in the tozer week (it's every week you can't miss it) i'm advocating for a heather day #solomon tozer #bill heather #the terror #thanks anon bc i really really wanted to share my thoughts on this #i'll love every input on the topic #character analysis #analysis of a scene made of 2 sentence but that made tozer and heather my favorite prankster duo in the arctic instantly #you guys can tell me if i'm wrong #but the terror really is an office comedy #ask

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spiderrrling · 2 years

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can you do a reader that loves to cook so she makes eddie a homemade meal 🥺 maybe after he survives the upside down/demobats and is hiding out/resting up. they don’t know each other really well so he’s surprised by her kindness and concern. rest is up to you! fluff, smut, anything!

This is a really cute concept, as someone who loves food I appreciate this very much, please find attached a slightly altered version that includes cookies and a very soft and concerned Eddie

Summary - somehow you and your rag tag crew make it back through to Hawkins, but when you struggle to sleep you decide to bake some cookies and get some unexpected company, would take place around the first half of episode 8

Warnings - none in particular, just the general stranger things warnings

Masterlist - Taglist - 3K follower celebration

The past three days had been filled with nothing but stupid mistakes and one life or death situation after another. Your first mistake? You had let Dustin and Max drag you along on their hunt for repeat senior Eddie Munson.

But that was only the first mistake of many to come, you had gotten into Steve's car as he drove to Reefer Ricks address, you had helped hide away a man wrongfully accused of murder. You had willingly jumped after Nancy into Lovers Lake, that mistake nearly cost you your life.

A man wrongfully accused of multiple homicides, that you were convinced he was not guilty of. He also happened to be the person you had just the tiniest little crush on.

The only positive that had come out of all of this? Eddie Munson had actually spoken to you, on more than one occasion. Granted it was far from a setting you would have preferred it in, but all the same you had still gotten to talk to him. He had the most calming effect on you, even being a wanted man who had been dragged through hell the past couple of days he was still laughing, still cracking jokes.

His presence in this entire big mess you had gotten yourself into was comforting.

Defying what felt like all odds you and your group had made it back through the gate, and Nancy was at least alive despite her encounter with the otherworldly demon that Dustin had called Vecna.

You and your rag tag group were hiding out in the Mayfield’s trailer, not sure of what was to come next. Deciding it was best to try and get some sleep while you could. The younger members of the group were fast asleep in Max’s room. You had settled for the couch, but your body refused to let you sleep.

Whenever you closed your eyes your entire body froze and your blood ran cold. Pictures of the upside down flashed before your eyes, the bats, Steve’s injuries, Nancy being possessed. It was all too much for you to handle. And while your body wanted nothing more than to rest there was no way your mind would let you.

That is when you finally decided you were going to be making one really good choice. Raiding the Mayfield’s kitchen and cooking up whatever you could find. And it was when your eyes landed on the bag of chocolate chips you knew you were about to make the best choice.

Trying your best to be quiet so as to not wake the others you started the process of baking a batch of cookies, something you all desperately could use. Your body went into an almost autopilot like state, your mind drifting off as you let your body do the work for you.

You were sitting on the floor in front of the oven as he entered the trailer, your eyes so fixed on the pastries in the oven that you didn’t hear him enter.

“What are you doing?” You jumped when you heard the voice, not expecting anyone else to be awake. Turning around Eddie Munson was standing behind you in the tiny kitchen. His hair was a mess, still slightly wet from the dip in the lake, and his eyes were dark and heavy with sleep deprivation. “Sorry- didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice dipped as he apologised.

It was clear Eddie hadn’t gotten any sleep either, he smelled ever so slightly of cigarette smoke and he was no longer wearing his leather jacket.

“Cookies.” You wished you could manage a couple more words, but your entire mind was simply empty. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, and there was almost something gentle in his eyes as he asked. You simply shook your head in response.

“Mind if I sit?” Eddie said as he was already sitting down next to you. He didn’t really care for your response, he just so badly did not want to be alone right now. “Not at all.” You laughed quietly.

“Why’d you bake the cookies?”

“I needed something to do, I couldn’t just sit still.” You started to explain, and you noticed how he was looking directly at you, his dark brown eyes meeting yours. “Besides I suppose it’s something we could all use.”

“Hey I won’t say no to a cookie right now, that is for sure.”

You sat there for a couple of minutes, simply looking into the oven and appreciating the heat that was radiating off it. Both of you were illuminated by the small yellow oven light.

“Shirt looks good on you.” Eddie said and broke the silence that had been hanging between you.

You were wearing his shirt, yours had been halfway ripped apart by the demo bats, tearing your old shirt to nothing more than rags. And when you had gotten back through the gate he had offered you one of his. It was a concert t-shirt from a band you didn’t know, the shirt was many sizes too large and smelled of cheap laundry detergent. “Thanks.” You whispered back.

Had you been in any other situation you would have blushed and become flustered at just the idea of wearing one of Eddie’s shirts. But there you were, sitting on the Mayfield’s kitchen floor in one of his shirts, being complimented by the person you had been crushing on forever and you could barely muster forward a smile.

The situation was ridiculous and impossible, and you knew that. Yet there you both were, sitting so close but there was still a very clear distance between you.

You wrapped your arms around you, feeling another shiver run down the length of your spine. Ever since getting back you hadn’t been able to get warm, it was as if a part of you was permanently frozen.

“Why are you sitting on the floor? Afraid your baked treats will run away if you don’t keep an eye on them?”

“It’s warm, comforting.”

“Cold?” Eddie asked as he noticed you shivering and he reached for one of your hands. “Jesus you’re freezing.” He held your hand sandwiched between his trying to warm you up. His hands were softer than you expected considering all of his years of playing guitar.

“Come here.” Eddie helped pull you to your feet and ushered you over to the couch, quickly wrapping a blanket around you before sitting next to you, taking your hand in his once more.

Your heart was fluttering in your chest, sitting there having your hands warmed up by Eddie. A surreal moment you never could have anticipated even in your wildest dreams. But as you were enjoying the moment and finally starting to relax into his touch, the timer for the cookies started to beep and it ripped both of you from the trance you had been captured in.

But before you could reat Eddie had let go of your hand and jumped to his feet “Let me.” He chuckled and grabbed an oven mitt to pull the cookies out of the oven and left them to rest, but not before he picked one up off the tray. Cursing quietly to himself as he accidentally touched the hot metal plate and you couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself.

Eddie slumped down next to you and broke the cookie in half, offering you the other piece which you gladly took. His hand found yours again almost instinctively and this time he laced your fingers together.

“Cheers.” Eddie smiled widely and held up his half and you clinked your piece against his. “Cheers.”

“What’s so funny?” There seemed to be genuine concern in Eddie’s voice.

“A week ago you didn’t even know my name, and now you’re sitting here sharing a cookie with me and holding my hand, it’s kind of ridiculous if you think about it.”

“A week ago I was living happily not knowing there was an alternate dark version of Hawkins filled with demons and ghouls.” Eddie nodded gently, the past couple of days had been insane. “But I did know your name.”

“You did?”

“I would have been stupid not to.”

At this point you couldn’t tell if this was actually happening, or if you had passed out earlier and this was another one of your delirious dreams.

“Hey if we make it through this-” Eddie started speaking and your eyes came up to meet his brown ones. “Would you mind if I asked you out? I’m going to need more of these cookies.”

Mutuals - @uglypastels @catastrofhe

Tag list - @pastel-abyss-x @fayetheenthusiasttt @obi-wanakenobi @starbemo @chloebeansack @a-villain-vying-for-attention @meganjm @prettytoxix @magicalxdaydream @ghoulsandgraveyards @munchabunch @kaydencegilr0y @eateraa @satorix @xbreezymeadowsx @hunnybunimdun @eddiemunsfuturewife

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chidoroki · 9 months

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182 Days of TPN - Day 122

Chapter 122: "True Feelings"

I love how the morning is all calm and quiet til we see Emma start to panic about something, so naturally we become a little worried as well, only for the unease to dissipate into nothing as we learn that she was just scared that she slept longer than intended. It's a fun little misdirect and the way the manga stresses that this is the first time in her entire life Emma didn't wake up on time is hilarious. It's okay honey, it's only 9am. Poor girl has been through so much that she needed those extra couple hours of rest, especially after all the excitement from the day before.

Oliver could've definitely used the extra sleep too after all the drama with the losing the shelter & the bunker dads, but he's such a sweetheart for keeping watch and I'm sure Lucas would be proud of him.

Vincent comes off as intimidating here but once we learn in a couple chapters that he's as big of a Norman fan as anyone else in paradise then this moment loses most of the tension. He's just genuinely upset that he didn't get to see that new side of his precious leader. And this is random, but I'm pretty sure it was that bottom panel of Norman at the desk where I noticed he was left handed for the first time.

Well, thankfully he's not wrong about there being any bloodshed for us. A select few get injured of course but they all miraculously survive their injuries.. somehow. Oh, and there's also a secret third reason he's not gonna share with anyone yet.

Aaahh balcony scene, my beloved. (apologizing now for rambling on about it. but literally unavoidable. can't help it. love RE way too much.) Something that only came to mind is how I love that Ray waited until this moment to confront Emma about her bluff. He could've pointed it out the moment he noticed while their whole family was in the same room but that would've made things awkward and added extra pressure to Emma. He also didn't ask about it during the paradise tour, dinner or their late night with Norman since the heavy topic would've definitely brought the mood down and Ray knows better than anyone that Emma deserves a moment to just forget about the world and be happy. So the fact he waited until they had a moment alone to address Emma's concerns and allow her to talk freely without any one else around to judge her is real sweet of him.

Due to the anime skipping over several volumes and cutting out an endless amount of moments I was most looking forward to seeing, I'm beyond happy we got this scene at all. I don't mind the different location or some tiny dialogue changes either as there are bits and pieces of this scene that I simply love how the anime handled it, like having Ray come seek her out because he already knows something's troubling her and the way his face remains hidden to us until Emma admits she's not exactly thrilled with Norman's plan.

One of the rare occasions where Emma's master actor skills kinda falter. Partly because of the serious nature of the conversation but also due to Ray knowing her so well. He's been attentive towards her mood since the previous day anyways so there's no fooling him here.

I'm so happy that he calls her out on this and wants her to be honest. He could've very ignored his suspicions about Emma's feelings or convinced her to accept Norman's idea since it would be easier as the majority of their family already agrees with it, but Ray cares for her far too much and respects her opinions. It's thanks to her they've made it this far after all.

Of course one of the big advantages the anime has is actually being able to hear the emotion in their voices, but there's also little things I enjoyed such as the shadow falling over Emma's face here. I also mentioned this who knows how many times before, but the dub did wonderfully with this scene too. There's nothing wrong with Ray's original line here, but hearing him say "Give me a break. It's me you're talking to, remember?" instead is perfect for them. Ray telling her to drop the act and be honest with him because she knows she can trust him and that she doesn't ever have to hide her ideals or emotions around him.. it's so sweet?? And the fact that she knows all this and is so appreciative of him makes me squeal like an idiot every time.

It makes me sad to hear that she believes she's in the wrong here for not siding with everyone else, especially when it's completely normal to not want violence and wipe out an entire different species, ya know? And I hate how so many people call Emma soft or dislike her simply because she's against Norman's plan. It would be so out of character for her if she did agree with the annihilation right away. I mean, just look back at how she handled her chat with Leuvis in ch87 saying, "I do hate you. I can't forgive you. But that's a different issue." No matter the danger to herself or her family, she will always try to find a way to resolve the issue before resorting to fighting. Hell, the anime had her attempt some small talk-no-jutsu to Isabella in ep8 and the manga is gonna do it again when she confronts Peter during the GF raid later. There's many moments but it's to be expected when she's a protagonist in a shonen manga. Wouldn't be right if the series solely followed Norman's plan when she's the lead character either.

Let me hug her let me hug her let me hug her please oh my goodness let me hug her. I don't like seeing our sunshine child going through big time stress but her voice actresses nail the emotion in this scene. Aside from all the warm and fuzzy RE feelings and taking a deeper look into Emma's mind, I love how this chapter finally brings up some big questions that really lead you to pause and think about the whole demon vs human divide.

I dunno about everyone else, but I certainly didn't care much about the demons in danger of the annihilation up until Emma started laying out the similarities between us and them. The poachers from GP, the Queen and the other regent families are horrible of course and I don't think I'll ever show sympathy towards them (aside from Leuvis because at least he's a good villain) but those lower ranking ones out in villages are just living innocent, normal lives. They certainly don't deserve to be wiped out simply because they exist and look different than the children, especially when they haven't even caused our cast any trouble.

The village demons might just be a bunch of npcs that readers and/or the children won't care too much about either, but surely minds start to waiver when Emma brings up Sonju & Mujika again. (In a weird kinda way, this moment reminds me of Deca Dence, mainly how I personally didn't care for the extermination of all the gadolls til I remembered Pipe was one of them, then proceeded to panic. y'all should give that a watch btw. Natsume gives very strong Emma vibes. hence why I watched it in the first place. & her time spent with Kaburagi reminds me of Yuugo.) Also, not too important, but I love how Ray is shaded so dark in many of these panels. I can't come up with a clever reason for the intense shadows he's given compared to Emma but yeah. Nice.

I'm sure as hell glad I first started reading the manga a couple chapters after this one because I would've definitely lost my mind waiting a week just to hear Ray's answer.

Favorite panel/moment:

You thought it was gonna be something RE related, but it is actually HIM! Zack! My boy! (I imagine Zack offered to carry Ray as well despite him just waking up, but he probably politely declined.)

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

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scribe-of-maat · 1 year

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Ranking EVERY Demigod PJatO Introduced

We know literally nothing about this kid except Percy thinks he's one of the most troublesome Ares kids. Would've been interested to see him actually do anything but since that never happens, at the very bottom of the list he sits.

We know slightly more about Castor than Mark, which is why he's only slightly higher than him. I really think Castor had potential to be interesting; Percy describes him and his brother as pretty capable fighters but we don't even find out this dude's name until AFTER he dies.

Phoebe actually gets characterization - she's pretty tough but a poor judge of character. If she'd actually gotten to go on the joint campers and Hunters quest she'd easily have ranked higher, but she basically disappears from the narrative until it's time for Rick to kill her off, and since we don't care about her, she gets this spot.

I doubt this'll be TOO controversial, but even though Jake seems like a pretty standup guy, he's just SO. BORING. He's Charles Beckendorf's replacement once that mainstay gets hit by the Black Dude Dies First trope but he's just kind of here to be shown up by every other Hephaestus kid who gets introduced. The only particularly interesting thing about him is that he's recently been Dumbledore'd.

This guy only recently got the barest amount of characterization in The Tower of Nero. He seems to be your typical Athena kid, so he's only really here because he still exists in the narrative and could potentially be more interesting in the future now that's he's been Dumbledore'd in The Sun and the Star.

Compared to everyone else so far, we know QUITE a lot about Sherman, surprisingly. He's incredibly rowdy, probably the meanest Ares kid now that Mark and Clarisse are gone and he's got a girlfriend so clearly he's not all bad. But still, the only actual pagetime Sherman's makes him out to be a typical Ares kid, so we'll have to see if there's anything more interesting there.

Pollux is another low-scoring character we know quite a bit about. He feels bad about his brother's death, he's a good fighter and he's got to be pretty capable all around to have survived to adulthood as a demigod (he's 18 in The Last Olympian). But Pollux seems to only exist as a way to humanize Dionysus. There's substance here, but as he hasn't reappeared, and in the canon of the series he's pretty much aged out of godly camping, he'll likely never return to the limelight to get any more love.

Here it is. The nuclear hot take. The Sun and the Star was the death knell for Will's character in my eyes. If Oshiro had opted to make Will the deuteragonist a la Sadie, he'd be much, much higher as we'd have been forced to see things from his perspective for longer than a few paragraphs every chapter and thusly they would have had to actually make him interesting. As it stands, Will has thousands more words dedicated to him than anyone else this low... but it's regarding his relationship, NOT him as a character. 400 pages later and we barely know anything about him other than he likes kissing Nico and enjoys being a living accessory to his boyfriend. He's just not interesting.

Next up is the second of the four named Apollo campers introduced to us in TLO. Austin is pretty interchangeable with the next rank on the list, but we know exactly as much about Austin as we do about Will (you KNOW it's true) but Austin is younger and thusly might actually get to be interesting in a future book if Will ever ages out.

The third named Apollo camper TLO gave us. Kayla outranks Will and Austin because we know exactly as much about each of them but she was the first one to canonize the long-held fanon that gods can obviously have children with mortals of the same sex because duh. I LOVED this development because it blows the doors off of what we know about the world. Imagine having two dads in 1890s Camp Half-Blood? Also she's younger than Will and has a longer time to potentially become interesting in her own right.

What little we see of Katie is - say it with me now - interesting. Extremely so. She's got a rivalry against the Stolls (for a very stupid reason, but hey) and she isn't afraid of voicing her opinions even if it may be the cause of discord. You get the feeling that she's a victim of Rick's laissez-faire attitude toward his canon since she's shown up since Miranda took over the Head Counselorship so who knows what's going on with our girl.

Michael is the fourth Apollo kid introduced in The Last Olympian. Obviously we know he amounts to another Cabin Seven camper offered up on the pyre of Rick wanting there to be stakes. We know very little about Michael canonically. We know he's short, which is kind of cool because that's rarely seen in YA guys his age, we know he's pretty mature, willing to give up his spoils so Clarisse will actually fight in the war with them, and dude is about that life to the end.

Lee quite literally came out of nowhere in The Battle of the Labyrinth, and the guy had so much potential to be an incredibly fun character. He's shown to be courageous enough to lead his own missions and isn't even afraid of dragons, can stand side-by-side with Clarisse of all people and is, obviously, an amazing archer. But of course he's only introduced to be killed off and give BotL some stakes. We may have been robbed, but for a glorious moment we were rich.

Chris is a minor character but is easily one of the most fleshed-out and developed characters in the entire PJatO series, and we barely see him! Doomed to madness by investigating the Labyrinth, he's rescued and eventually becomes Clarisse's beau. There's so much potential for intriguing exploration of this guy but even though he's definitely left godly camping behind there's plenty of depth here.

We're roughly halfway through the list, and here's Luke nearly bringing up the rear. I think Luke's biggest minus in my eyes is that he feels perfunctory as an antagonist. The coolest thing about him is his betrayal of Percy at the end of TLT for the prophecy twist. Luke fails on so many levels for me: he's not menacing, because he never beats Percy in combat when it matters and it's revealed he's actually afraid of Percy. He's not an obstacle to Percabeth because he's a literal adult the entire series and a bunch of people have to die before he learns one of the biggest evildoers in Greek myths is... a bad guy. Backbiter's awesome, though.

If Bianca hadn't been fridged, she could've gone to so many more places as a character. After being parentified since she was Elementary School-aged, her making an incredibly selfish decision for her own sake was sooo delicious. Ultimately, and sadly, she was the prototype for Jason in that her only real lasting impression on the story was the effect her death had on other characters.

Nico's powerful. He's traumatized. But for me, it was his friendship with Percy and his finding his own way as a young, untrained half-blood that was his most interesting point in time. Nico was Percy who turned his back on Camp Half-Blood at a time when it was most crucial to him, and as Nico became more and more open and bonded more and more, his character has been in this sort of weird position, where sometimes the narrative treats him like he's edgy and other times he's got a Damian Wayne coming-out-of-his-shell sort of rapport with whoever he happens to be speaking with at the time.

Silena's biggest downside is that we barely get any time between the reveal that she's a traitor and her death. The whole time she's pretty much a nice Aphrodite kid we know her as and basically nothing else. Still, there's a very interesting story there if we ever get to have it explored. She had to have been tortured on the inside for years. I do dislike how it's implied she was attracted to Luke, though.

One half of the most fun duo in the original series. Connor loses points for me because he acts like his funny bone broke the moment his brother went off to college in the sequel series. If Rick wanted to pass the torch to Alice and Julia he could've been a bit less blatant about it. But still, Connor is a quintessential Hermes kid and oozes personality.

Rick's adherence to a seasonal timetable is easily why Thalia loses out for me. We jump from her being resurrected in the final pages of SoM to her simply being One Of The Gang by the opening of TC. Obviously she gets a whole book to have her character shown off to us, and she's pretty cool, but Thalia's character is frozen as Lieutenant of Artemis for the foreseeable future.

His death hits the hardest in the series. He was a heroic character the entire time who didn't die in the same book he was introduced, and even though he was a victim of Black Dude Dies First AND The Worf Effect, everyone remembers his sacrifice. Plus, if you read the companion books, it's obvious Percy and Beckendorf are much closer than the limited timeframe of the books show. After all, Beckendorf knew about Percy's crush on Annabeth; the ONLY person aside from maybe Grover up until the end of TLO.

Travis is one of the most fully-realized demigods we're introduced to in the series. Like his brother, he's an incredibly capable half-blood, skilled with the gifts his godly parentage imbues him with, a good fighter in his own right, an amazing sense of humor with being the life of the party AND he was no doubt all of that in his personal life on top of being smart enough to get into college.

Wise Girl herself. You may be surprised that she isn't number one or two on this list, but I still like her a lot. Annabeth is a unparalleled in her resourcefulness and ingenuity even if she's one of the least powerful demigods that we follow. She gets to shine so effectively because we can count on her to carve out things for herself rather than needing contrived reasons for someone who can hit harder to get out of her way first.

Percy is an amazing character. Funny, strong, friendly, you couldn't find a better hero than him. We spend so much time in his head, feeling things the way he does, seeing things the he does, you can't dislike this guy. But yeah, he's not my favorite. Honestly, it may be overexposure. As more and more novels, our plot armored, untouchable ultimate good guy shows up more and more often. With there being fewer and fewer places for his character to go, it becomes less and less interesting to see him.

Number Two is Clarisse. I'll never forget being in Middle School and reading The Lightning Thief and seeing that Percy's bully was a girl. As a young teen non-reader, this was mind-blowing. Clarisse was COOL. And my favorite, most unexpected part of The Sea of Monsters was the quest actually being hers. She was such a well-rounded character, even if her choice to let Kronos take over the world over unseen "disrespect" felt INCREDIBLY contrived, I still love her.

My favorite demigod introduced in the PJatO era is Ethan Nakamura. Everything I loved about Chris I adore in Ethan. This guy had so much story to him and is one of the only characters who you could write a book series parallel to Percy's series about and have it be gripping. Ethan's never presented as a serious challenge martially to Percy so he avoids that particular pitfall of Luke, and he's a sharper example of the gods' being uncaring causing their kids to turn against them. He's just another demigod with no grander purpose fighting on the wrong side.

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iyliss · 6 months

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thanks. do you know the connection between being traumatized and needing more power for saiou in s4? like before mizuchi got kidnapped since it was to manipulate him? what was he going to use that power for (destinymaxxing)?

P.S. i was confoused when mizuchi said saiou would be happier if he had no powers/ became a normal human in 171? wasnt the problem that people were scared of them???//

Explaining Saiou's behavior in s4 is a little messy but also incredibly interesting to me so sorry in advance for how long will it take...

The first thing I'd like to point out is that I don't really think Saiou is right in claiming people were scared just for his power. Given how Judai and Johan were treated (bad, but still better), and that Saiou and Mizuchi both have social struggle beyond the use of their power, I think there is more to their isolation than just a general rejection. It's hard to tell if they have horrible social skills because of the isolation, or if they were isolated because of their inability to communicate but still. I don't think it was as simple as "power = evil" to every adult around them.

And yet Saiou seems to believe it was their power alone, that if they weren't there they would be accepted. At the same time, it protected and maybe saved them. I'm not sure Saiou could have gone far if he hadn't met Edo, and even then how would two young kids survive alone... Except their powers also furthered that isolation. When he says "I saw people and their heart as cards", he can mean many thing, but one of them is that he ends up only seeing reality through the filter of his predictions and people as the cards moving around on the table. Also I like the idea that the more he uses his power, the harder it is for him to connect to the present time.

At the same time, it's a struggle between safety and freedom. Knowing the future mean he can have a little bit of hope, and protection, especially in a world where they can't rely on anyone. It also mean his future is set in stone and he has no choice to follow his own prediction.

This is the setting for Saiou's desire to no longer have his power. He thinks that, without them, he'll be able to properly view people as people and connect to them like they do with one another, while not having the binds of a fore-told future.

Except he can't really just return to having a normal life like that. As I said, it's likely his isolation was caused by something else than just powers. And even then it's impossible to repair so much damage in little time, if at all. And then: Mizuchi is kidnapped. Something Saiou could have seen and maybe prevented if he had his powers. Not only is the hope he had about a normal life without them crushed, but he realize the safety he lost. So, if he can't have the "normal life" he wished for, he can at least get powers again so he doesn't have to live in fear. It's not about what he use them for, but about having something to hold onto.

In a way, it's similar to dependency/toxic cycles built through traumatic situation. Telling the future hurts Saiou in many ways, but it's the only thing that kept him going for a long time. He eventually has to break free of it, but it leaves him alone and scared without the one thing that brought him a sense of safety.

And overall, I love taking that duel as a general display of reaction to PTSD. Without talking about Judai, Saiou has only been out of danger for about a year (before that it was either the light, poverty, possibly abuse, who knows what else). This whole time he hoped that, once the danger is out, he'll be able to be happy and at peace. But he can't truly feel safe without the binds he has grown used to, and he can't see how to repair all that it destroyed. So, he wants to go back to what he knows even if it hurts himself and others.

Actually I'm not sure it helped but I hope it gave a little sense to Saiou's behavior in s4. (And thank you for the ask nothing brings me joy like having an excuse to spend way too long talking about Saiou ♥).

#yugioh gx #gx #saiou takuma #sartorius kumar #long post

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burnwater13 · 8 months

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Grogu wondered how Morgan Elsbeth managed to get something like a beskar spear. Those things didn’t grow on trees or anything else either. Hopefully it had been made from ore stolen from Mandalore, as opposed to being made of stolen Mandalorian armor. But he wouldn’t put that past her.

Grogu just didn’t understand how some people looked at what another person had and said, ‘Wow. That’s pretty. I want that. Give it to me. No? Well, then I’ll just take it from you. There. That wasn’t so bad, now was it? Ha, ha, ha.” Inevitably the person who had the thing originally was now on the ground and in pain or feeling pretty humiliated.

Grogu wasn’t sure which one was worse. Sure, he’d stubbed his toes more than once and the pain from that was pretty bad. But that time he went to Jedi lessons and didn’t have his coverall on because someone had taken it from him… well… being laughed at by all the other younglings was pretty painful too.

Now the person who took his coverall didn’t mean to humiliate him. Not at all. That was the only good thing about the whole mess. They were really doing him a favor. He’d been in the arboretum, hiding, and then when he did the chores the masters assigned to him for being good at hiding, he was covered in… well… fertilizer. And not the kind that smelled good, if that even existed. The bad kind. The really stinky kind.

So the Jedi knight who tended the plants in the arboretum offered to clean it for him, when she saw him trudging around with the fertilizer, which was her job most days. Grogu had been very grateful and stripped it right off. He wasn’t embarrassed then because he was still wearing his first layer and Tam wasn’t an eleven year old youngling who was going to giggle and point. Nope. Far from it.

Then she had given his access to one of Master Yoda’s spare floaty chairs so he could get back to his dorm and change into a fresh set of coveralls. (He did have another set which was nice.) So he set right off. He wanted to get there before anyone spotted him and he had to explain what happened. Jedi were really good at getting you to tell them the complete story and not just the ‘I got fertilizer on my coveralls’ part of the story.

That was going great until Master Drallig popped out of no where and called to him. Grogu had groaned, because Master Drallig was not going to be amused once he saw Grogu in Master Yoda’s floaty chair. He’d been mistaken for the great Jedi Master more than once by people and it never ended well. This time was no different from that one.

Grogu stopped the chair and Master Drallig strode over complaining about his padawan.

“Master Yoda, I just can’t have Sebastian being studied this way. The medical staff refuse to release him. Would you please authorize it? I wouldn’t ask, but the boy is causing them even more trouble than he causes me and I think its’ for the greater good.”

Grogu giggled at that. He couldn’t help himself. He’d heard the stories about Seb Ta’low that Ian told him. Ian often said he wished to be just like Seb. Considering how much trouble they both were, Grogu didn’t doubt that, he just doubted the ability of the Jedi Order to survive it.

Well, that giggle gave away that Master Drallig wasn’t talking to Master Yoda. The next thing he knew Grogu was on the floor, walking as quickly as he could toward his dorm, knowing that his five minute trip had become fifteen minutes long, at least. Longer if he had to dodge other masters. Master Drallig had the floaty chair and was muttering about padawans and younglings and what the Temple was coming to, in a very dark, annoyed voice.

Grogu managed to get back to the dorm without anyone seeing him, but when he went to retrieve his other set of coveralls, they were gone. Someone had taken them! He could tolerate that once, but not twice in the same day. He did something he never did. He had a bit of temper tantrum.

Now when people who don’t use the Force have a temper tantrum nothing much happens. They yell, they cry, they maybe throw themselves around a little. But they don’t throw everything in the whole dorm room around… which was exactly what he did. And before he could even think of fixing it, the rest of the younglings came back from their games period and stood in stunned amazement at the wreck that was their dormitory.

“Youngling Grogu, I take it this is your handiwork?” Master Windu asked very softly.

Why did he have to be the Master who was helping with the younglings that day?!

Grogu nodded his head.

“I see. You will return everything as it was and tomorrow you will come to the assembly and apologize to the students and masters for your behavior. Just as you are. If you can do this in your first layer, you can do that in it as well. There are better ways to deal with frustration and you will have to learn them sooner, rather than later.”

Grogu simply nodded his head and began to clean up the room. The other younglings just stood around and watched him. He knew it was his responsibility to fix what he had done. He knew that Master Windu was treating him fairly. He just wished he hadn’t been wearing his Diggle and Daggle, the Fish that fish themed first layer.

He’d never thought of the Force being a bully, but it had certainly helped him bully himself into being humiliated and he hoped he’d never forget how that felt.

Now, he just had to help the Mandalorian get that beskar spear back without anyone finding out that he still had the Diggle and Daggle first layer and that they, much like the beskar the spear was made from, had stood the test of time, no matter what happened all around them.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #beskar

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vodika-vibes · 9 months

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Shadow Squad: The Forgotten Vod'e pt 3

Riff meets Go for the first time. The Squad arrives on Coruscant, and Riff sees Fox for the first time in years, and he's not thrilled. tagging: @kiss-anon and @starrrgazingbunny

The Pit - 0800 hours

"Again."

Riff ground his teeth, but he pushed his exhaustion away as the droids he was training against reset to the beginning of the training regimen. He slid into his starting stance, and adjusted his grip on his hunting knife. This 'training' was meant to be a punishment. A means to prove to Riff, and the other Cadets, that the trainers knew best.

However, Riff was going into hour three with this training, and while he was battered and bruised, none of the droids had managed to harm him in any serious way.

Riff was winning.

"You will learn, Cadet." The trainer said in a dispassionate voice, "We will continue the lesson until you do."

Riff wiped some sweat off his brow and focused his attention on the droids, allowing the rest of the world to fall away. He would not allow this to break him. He was going to lead his vod'e to freedom.

"Begin the lesson,"

Riff moved.

*********

"You're a big one, aren't you?" The Trainer glanced at one of the pilots, "Are you sure this one is meant for us?"

"Yup. He's clumsy and couldn't think his way out of a wet paper bag," The pilot rolled his eyes, "He was slated for Tech work."

Both adults focused their attention on Go, who tried really hard to not fidget, and failed, judging by the contemptuous look that both men shot him. "Maybe he'll live longer than some of the others," The trainer said scornfully, "But I doubt it."

"Honestly, I don't know how you dead with so many fuck ups," The pilot said blandly as he unloaded the rest of the Cadets, "But, not my job. See you in a week."

The trainer waved the pilot away, and then focused his attention on the cadets gathered before him, malice oozing out of his every pore. "There's far too many of you," He said, gleefully, "Let's thin the flock a little."

What happened next, Go would remember for the rest of his life. The Trainer moved, and shot one of the cadets right in the temple, spraying the room in his blood.

There was no place for them to go. No place for them to run.

They were trapped.

Go watched, silent and trembling, as the trainer went through and shot every other cadet. Right up until he reached Go. "Hm...You're an even number, but I'm going to leave you alive anyway. I'm going to call you Lucky." And then he shot the next two cadets, to make up for keeping Go alive.

Of the 30 cadets Go arrived at the pit with, only 15 remained.

And then, and only then, the Trainer smiled at them like a benevolent uncle, and told them to follow him into the Pit.

The fifteen remaining kids were shoved into the same room, and told to remain there until someone came to tell them what to do, and then he left the room, slamming the door behind him. And it was only then that Go noticed that the door couldn't be opened from the inside.

Go stared at the shut door, a feeling of helplessness nearly overwhelming him. Surely he was meant for more than dying in some asshole's blood sport. Right?

*********

"There was a new shipment of Vod'e today," Grain's voice was quiet as he gently patched up the deep gash over Riff's eye, "The didn't notice me, or else I wouldn't have been allowed to see-"

"See what?" Riff asked, focusing his attention on his brother.

Grain ducked his head, "Trainer Lon, the mean one with the missing eye, he killed every other cadet after they got off the transport." Grain's hands tightened around the bottle of antiseptic that Riff stole for him, "And then he shoved all fifteen of them into the hot room."

Riff grimaced. The hot room was nothing short of torture. Anyone with lung issues would likely die before the end of the day, and even the sturdiest of vod'e wouldn't survive longer than three days in that room.

"You're going to help them, right?" Grain asked, his voice hushed.

"Of course," Riff replied immediately. His gaze was distant, a clear sign that he was already planning. "But, odds are, I won't be able to free them until tomorrow." He sounded guilty about it, too. But the fact was that for the first 24 hours, no one would be able to get near the Hot room without getting shot.

"Then that gives me time to make sure that you're patched up more than you are now," Grain replied seriously as he pulled a bottle of bacta out from under his bed.

"Where'd you get that?"

Grain grinned at him, "I took it when no one was looking."

"Good job, Grain." Riff replied, looking startled, "I didn't think you would be willing to start stealing stuff for at least a couple of weeks."

"You're a bad influence." Grain grumbled, his face coloring slightly pink.

Riff just laughed.

***********

Go was beginning to think that it would have been better to stay in the sealed room. He had been in there for about three hours before the door opened and a different man separated him from his vod'e.

And now he was alone with a man who looked at him like Go was worth less than the tiles he was standing on.

The man circled him. "I was informed that you're clumsy." He said in a deceptively quiet voice, "This is an obstacle course. You're going to run it until I tell you to stop. Every obstacle you fail, cadet, will earn you a whipping. So don't fail."

"Y-yes, sir."

"Start moving."

Go realized, almost immediately, that the course was designed for him to fail. And within 30 minutes, Go was a bleeding mess. His shirt had been ripped to shreds from the whip, and his back felt like it was being ripped open by sharp knives.

"What's wrong, Cadet. Surely a simple obstacle course isn't beyond you?" The Trainer circled Go like a predator, "It's a very. Simple. Course."

It wasn't. Isn't. Go wasn't sure that it was even possible to finish any obstacles. He was pretty sure he had been set up to fail.

He flinched as the whip cracked again, sure that he was going to feel even more pain, but instead he felt nothing. Go slowly lifted his head, and stared, stunned, as a vod'e stood in front of him.

His arm was outstretched, and the whip was wrapped around his arm.

The trainer looked surprised, and then furious, "CC-1106. You are not supposed to be in here."

Go trembled as he slowly got to his feet. A CC? That made sense, actually. Everyone had heard about how one of the Command batch had been decommissioned. But that had been months ago.

He shifted to get a better look at the vod. He was shorter than Go, and not quite as broad. And he was covered in thin scars. But his chin was lifted, and he met the trainer's eyes evenly, and completely unafraid.

Go was suddenly reminded as to why the Command Batch was so well respected.

"No. I'm not." The Commander said evenly, as he managed to rip the whip out of the trainer's hands. He didn't say anything else, and Go was shocked to see the trainer back down.

"You will be punished for this, CC-1106." He threatened, trying to make himself seem bigger.

"Try it." The Commander bared his teeth, and Go remembered that the rumor was that this Commander murdered a man with his bare hands.

With that thought in mind, Go was much less surprised when the trainer ran off. He scurried, really, out of the room with his tail between his legs.

"Can you walk?" Go blinked, and suddenly the Commander was standing next to him, looking him over with concerned eyes.

"I could have handled it." Go said.

The Commander regarded him through solemn eyes, "I'm sure you could have. But that doesn't mean you should have to."

"Won't it just get worse?" Go asked, his hands were shaking. When did that start?

The Commander smiled, a small thing that settled the cold dread that had been growing in Go's heart, "Don't you fret about that. I'll take care of it." He paused, "I'm Riff."

"Go. My Batchmates call me Go."

"Well then. It's nice to meet you, Go." Riff turned on his heel and tossed the whip to the side, "Follow me. I have a vod medic who will patch you up, while I get the rest of the new arrivals out of the Hot Room."

Go trailed after him, feeling kind of numb. He wasn't sure anything would ever be alright ever again. But, for now, he was willing to put his faith in his Commander.

***********

Five Years Later

"This is Coruscant?" Go asked, sharing a look with Xyn after they stepped off the ship on the landing platform.

"Pretty as a picture, isn't it?" Kote asked.

"He's being sarcastic, right?" Dorian asked Riff as he squinted at the smog filled sky, "How is all of this pollution not killing everyone?"

"Maybe the people of Coruscant evolved to need the pollution to live," Grain joked as he clapped Dorian on the shoulder.

"That's statically impossible." Xyn said, "Right?" He pulled out a datapad, "Let me check-"

"Way to go, Doc." Go said sarcastically, "Come on, vod. He was joking."

Grain shook his head, "Enjoy your reunion with your brothers, Commander. I'll make sure they get settled."

"Thanks Grain." Riff replied, and then he focused his attention on Kote, "So. Fox."

"He said he's in the Corrie barracks," Kote replied, motioning for Riff to follow him, "It's separate from the rest of the barracks, simply because they mostly work in the senate."

Riff hummed thoughtfully, "Shit posting, but someone has to do it, I guess."

Kote frowned, "The Corries are seen as having the easiest posting."

"I suppose I can see how people would think that." Riff allowed, "What do you think?"

"I think the Corries are wilting away and no one cares enough to see it." Kote said, "And Fox won't talk to us!" He burst out, "He won't even talk to Wolffe about what's bothering him!"

"We'll figure it out, Kote." Riff promised, "Lead the way."

The Corrie barracks were clean, Riff noticed as he entered the building following Kote. Unnaturally clean, actually. The same kind of clean that the rooms in The Pit had.

Sharp eyes, honed from years of having to pay attention to the vod'e around him, sharpened even more. Flickering over the vod'e they walked passed. And Riff did not like what he was seeing.

Faded, chipped, paint on their armor. Vod'e would wouldn't meet Kote's gaze, though they looked at Riff with some wary curiosity. There were a handful of vod'e who clearly had dried blood on their armor, and if Riff had to guess, it was probably their own.

All in all, the Corrie Barracks made something cold and angry settle deep in his gut.

"Riff? Is everything alright?" Kote asked, as he stopped in front of a worn looking door. There was a look of concern on his face, "You look...angry."

"I'm furious, Kote." Riff replied pleasantly, "Let's go see Fox."

Kote looked even more concerned, and swept his gaze around the hallway, but he didn't see anything to be overly concerned about. "Alright...this is Fox's room." He knocked and then pushed the door open, "Hey Fox! I'm here."

Fox looked up from his desk and scowled at Kote, "I'm busy, Kote."

"Yeah, but I brought a friend." Kote motioned to Riff, who stepped into the room and carefully kicked the door shut behind him.

Riff looked at Fox. Really looked at him. And he scowled.

Dark circles. Greying hair. A fading bruise on his temple. Lines of exhaustion on his face. And he was too thin.

Riff crossed the room in three long steps and immediately carded his fingers though Fox's hair, "Oh, vod'ika." He sighed out, "You've had such a hard time of it, haven't you?"

Fox stared at Riff. And then he shuddered and leaned into Riff's touch, "I'm really glad you're here, ori'vod." Riff made a comforting noise, and moved to crouch next to him.

"Kote, why don't you go and collect the rest of our batchmates." Riff instructed, not looking away from Fox, who looked one kind word away from collapsing into Riff.

"Uh...alright." Kote looked between them, and then he left the room.

The door shut with a quiet click, and Riff smiled at Fox, something cold and dangerous sliding across his face, "Oh, baby brother. Tell me who hurt you and how can I help?"

Fox stared at him, and then let out a laugh that was more like a sob, and he collapsed against Riff. "I'll tell you what I know. But you're going to need to take to my men too."

"How long will it take Kote to collect everyone?" Riff asked.

"An hour, depending on what Ponds is doing."

"Then we'd best get started."

#star wars #tcw #clone oc #Shadow Squad

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chaos-and-recover · 1 year

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ngl Children of Ruin flew right over my head bc I am really stupid I guess and shouldn't have attempted to read sci-fi. I did not read Children of Time so maybe that's why. Everyone kept saying it would click by the time I finished but it didn't. Spoilers ahead beware: like I understand we are meant to read the pov of alien beings that are octopuses or spiders, and that being too tech advanced causes issues. The whole "going on an adventure" that everyone says made their jaw drop just flew over my head. Could you explain it maybe? Obviously beneath a read more for spoilers. It's been bothering me. I don't know if I'm trying to see it as more profound than it is and I'm mistaking them being like "oh nooo" as philosophically relevant or if I'm oversimplifying it so that something with plot twisting symbolic stuff about life is a simple "oh crap" idk like I said maybe sci-fi is above my IQ

TBH I haven't read Children of Time yet because for some reason there's a really long wait for it in my library system, but wasn't for Children of Ruin. I'd had them both on my Saved list for like a year and requested both at the same time and CoR came in first; I'm still waiting on CoT.

ANYWAY.

Spoilers below for Adrian Tchaikovsky's Children of Ruin below, if you plan to read that ever (if you like sci fi I recommend it, I'm not usually into sci fi and fuckin loved it)

"We're going on an adventure!" is just utterly terrifying because it's what the organism/parasite/whatever-the-fuck is on Nod that destroys everything says when it takes over a new host. To me it's a mix of wonder and horror because this thing genuinely does just want to explore and learn and see more of the universe than just its home planet (hence why it's so frustrated at the end when it's still been stuck on Nod/in the orbitals/on Damascus for thousands of years and didn't get its adventure) but to do that it's taking over some other being. The way it's introduced with the first infection with Lortisse is so well done because first he starts slipping in "we" in his speech and then there's the narration about him being unable to stop smiling even though it's physically painful and then he says "We're going on an adventure" and that's when he's fully and completely not him anymore.

And then it repeats with Baltiel, when everyone else dies and he escapes Nod and contacts Senkovi to warn him and say they can have no more contact just in case and you think maybe he's ok? But then Senkovi is like "ok so then why are you coming this way" and he's just like "We're going on an adventure!" That one has the added horror because at that point as far as Senkovi knows, he's now the last surviving human anywhere in the entire universe.

tl;dr it's basically just an intensely disturbing line, delivered in an optimistic and upbeat way but if you were to hear it as a character in the novel it means the person saying it to you is no longer your friend/partner/crewmate.

(Also, I don't think getting or enjoying sci fi is a matter of IQ, really just a matter of taste and maybe experience. If you don't read a lot of it there are a lot of tropes and concepts that won't necessarily make sense but I think the very best sci fi can explain things, especially the technology and physics and science-y side, in a way that you might not understand but can still see the internal logic. It needs to have its own rules and stick to them, or anyone is just gonna be utterly lost. But it's also a matter of taste! Just like any genre, it's just not for everyone, and that's cool too. It can be the best written novel of all time with a solid story, flawless logic and science, and sometimes you're just not gonna like it, or it's not gonna click with you, and there's nothing wrong with that)

#children of ruin #adrian tchaikovsky

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spicedjams

yen is my mum

vuotanelprofondo-blog

•Erica•

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MyDiYTrip

ankikolex

o snap what b the news!