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builtbybrokenbells · 6 months

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Gold Dust Woman | xiii

Gold Dust Woman finally learns how to pick up the pieces and go home.

Read part twelve here

Listen while reading: unknown/nth - Hozier (listened to this and cried the entire time I wrote this 🤭)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: ANGST, sadness, crying, breakups, feelings of regret/heartbreak, sad jake, swearing, smoking, some fluff! Sorry if I miss any!

only one more left after this one 😁 buckle up for the last bit of the ride (I was going to wait till the poll ended but I could NOT wait any longer. I’m so excited to finish up this piece as it’s been my main focus for so long. also lightly edited. my apologies 🫶🏻) as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

Another city, another show. You were so caught up in the whirlwind of your life that you seemed to have forgotten what home truly was. Hotels were more familiar than you thought they ever could be, and you craved for a moment alone in your own house despite previously hating the emptiness that screamed from the walls. The show the night before went by without a hitch, and the weight of your decision was sitting heavy on your shoulders. You knew what you had to do, you just hadn’t yet gotten the chance to do it. After the concert came to a close, you were all too tired to even think about managing a night at the bar. You drove to the city over which you would be playing for tonight, and checked into the hotel rooms with no intent on leaving until the next morning. Dylan had fallen asleep in your bed with you, mid conversation about the high points of the night.

When you woke, she was still deep in slumber in her jeans and hoodie, neglecting blankets and pillows completely. You crawled from the mattress, a headache lingering but making a promise to leave as long as you had a sip of coffee. You showered, did your makeup, and dressed all before she even made a shift in her position. You opted to leave her there to catch up on her sleep, knowing that out of anyone, she deserved it most. You thought maybe the early morning would be the best time to execute your plan; not many were awake, and you might be able to reach Sam’s room without interception from anyone else. You knew that if you had to see any sad eyes or wistful faces, you would crack and crumble to the ground before you could even get to your destination. You slipped onto the patio attached to your room before making the leap to end the race, needing a moment to collect your thoughts before the inevitable end.

You sat on a flimsy deck chair, a cigarette smouldering between your fingers as you gazed out at the city. Despite your own drowsiness still existing, the world was awake and begging you to join it. Cars passed, honking angrily at pedestrians and other drivers in hopes it would make them hurry. The sun was bright, casting a glow over the ground that made even the busiest of streets seem inviting. Sidewalks bustled, and shops were decorated with neon signs inviting potential customers inside. You wondered if when the pain passed, you could resume some semblance of normalcy that you had been craving for so long. Then, you wondered if normal would be better than your previous sense of the word with Sam by your side, taking on the world with you. As excited as you were to find out, your hands still shook with anxiety for the future.

You were not doubting your certainty of loving Sam; you knew that to be true in every sense of the phrase, and you had known it long before your revelation in the bathroom the night before. Loving Sam was one of the easiest things you had ever done, and you knew that regret for picking him was implausible. Sam had an iron grip on your heart from the minute you met him, and he showed no signs of letting go. What you were doubting was your ability to choose the right path, and your willingness to let go of Jake. As much as you loved Sam, you knew you felt it for him, too, and you were not prepared to accept that you would never have Jake again. As much as love terrified you, letting go was also high on your list of fears. But, as they say, when one door closes another one opens, and this was not a grievous end as much as it was the next chapter of your life.

You loved Jake completely, and so much so that when you thought about it for too long it made your chest ache and your head spin. He did not lack anything in the slightest, but your driving force was justified by the fact he was just too similar to you. You shared the fear of intimacy as well as commitment, and you both struggled with vulnerability and communication. Because of that, the emotions housed between you were often volatile and difficult to navigate. You were a self-assured hot headed person who needed someone to ground you, and you feared that Jake would feed into that side of you because he housed so many of the same traits. So, it was not a lack of love causing you to walk away; it was simply because you knew you had the same ability to hurt him as you did love him, just as he did for you. Loving someone means taking risks, but a risk that large could be fatal, and you were not willing to sacrifice him or yourself at the hands of pleasure.

You thought for so long that your cigarette burnt to an end before you had the chance to enjoy it, and the sun had slightly shifted positions in the sky. Now, it was shining directly on you, illuminating the extent of your sins and showcasing it to anyone who cared to watch. No matter what the right decision was, hurt was inevitable, and you all but paved the way for it to be. It was only right for you to play the game in which you thought it should be, because dragging it out any further would only be torture for everyone involved. You tossed the cigarette to the ground, not even a cherry falling out to reminisce on the fire it used to have. You felt the same, discarded and out of place as your flame slowly flickered away. Your only hope was that after the day was through, you would begin to shine brighter than ever before.

When you went back inside, Dylan was still snoring peacefully with no sign of stirring anytime soon. You chuckled at the sight, grabbing a blanket that had been pushed to the foot of the bed and gently throwing it on top of her. You stepped towards the door, letting your hand rest on the knob as you gave yourself a pep talk. You knew what needed to be done, but had doubts about your strength to do so. Underneath your hard and confident exterior, you were nothing but a mess of cowardly second-guesses and insecure assumptions. You feared that once you stepped outside, any sense you had talked into yourself would flee and never return. With a deep breath, you swung the door open and stepped outside. The silence was astounding, and it seemed to be loud enough to deafen you. The sheer emptiness of the hallway was overwhelming, and it felt like it was slowly paralyzing you as it encouraged you to run circles.

With an unsteady nature, you stepped forward in the direction of Sam’s room. You made it halfway, then had to stop and reconvene your thoughts. “Why is this so fucking hard?” You whispered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. You leaned back against the wall, inhaling deeply in hopes that it would aid you in your search for confidence. You ran your palms across the fabric of your jeans, the scratchy material sending a shiver down your spine and regulating your body. “Okay, y/n. You can do this. It’s not that hard. Just knock on his door, and take it from there.” You whispered, knowing that if anyone were to see the state you were in they might have genuine concerns about your mental well being.

Just as you were about to continue on your journey, a door swung open just ahead of you. You snapped your head up, looking in the direction of the noise as a genuine fear flooded you. It looked like Sam’s door, which only prompted you to want to run. After a few seconds, a body stepped into view, and almost all of your nerves calmed. “Oh, hey, Aaron.” You sighed, laughing at your own foolishness.

“Y/n!” His eyes lit up as if he’d won a grand prize by finding you in the hallway. “I was just coming to get you. Makes my job easy.”

“Oh, me? No, actually, I-I have something I have to-“

“I think you’re going to want to come with me.” He chuckled as he walked towards you. He held out his arm, beckoning you away from the wall.

“No, Aaron, I have something really important to do, and-“

“This is more important, I promise you.” He said, waiting for you to join him. You watched him, hesitation clear in your face as you looked between him and Sam’s door. When he raised an expecting eyebrow at you, you let out a sigh that trailed off with a groan, slumping your shoulders as you walked to join him. “I will make up for whatever I’m taking you away from, but I really think you’ll be happy to come with me.”

“Whatever you say,” you sing-songed, letting him guide you towards the elevator. You both disappeared behind the doors, leaving Sam’s room as nothing but a memory as you were transported down to the first floor. “So, what’s this about?”

“It’s a surprise.” He chuckled. “I’m just thankful you were awake so I didn’t have to fight with you.”

“Come on, Aaron. You can’t drag me away from my very important things and not even tell me what it’s about.” You complained, tapping your foot against the ground as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, how about this: I’ll tell you what we’re doing if you tell me what you were doing that was so important.” Your movements paused as you racked your brain for an answer. There was no way you were willing to tell him the true intent of your journey, and the elevator dinged before you could come up with an excuse. “That’s what I thought.” He laughed, walking out without another word. You let out a huff of annoyance as you followed behind him, but you could not argue with his clear advantage over the conversation. He led you into the lobby of the hotel, making sure you were close behind him in case you had any inkling to turn away. The room was oddly quiet for a morning; nobody seemed to be waiting impatiently to check out, nor did the staff seem hassled with work.

When you made it to the front doors, Aaron greeted the bodies that were waiting for you. You could not see past him, so who was there would come as a surprise once he stepped out of the way. When the doors swung open and your manager stepped forward to exit, your heart sunk and your stomach churned. Jake was looking down at his phone, sunglasses on and wearing what looked to be the clothes he slept in the night before. When you woke that morning, Jake was not the first brother you had hoped to have an interaction with, nor was he the one you had the courage to face. You barely had enough nerve to walk towards Sam’s room, and you knew you would not have the strength to maintain any kind of normalcy with Jake.

“Didn’t know you were coming along.” Jake smiled, joining you by the side, but his excitement did not seem to match his words. He knew you were coming, and he had been shaking with anticipation since finding out about it. This was not your idea of a worthwhile trip, not because you did not want to see Jake, but because you wanted to see him so badly that it made your chest ache. You did not know if you would make it through the day without cracking under his pressure, and you knew if you did let him back in, you would only be breaking his heart even further.

“Guess everyone’s full of surprises this morning.” You tried to smile, but it came out with more similarity to a grimace rather than anything welcoming. “Not even sure why I’m here.”

“He didn’t tell you?” You shook your head, avoiding looking over at him for as long as you could. When you felt his hand grace your lower back, you nearly jumped out of your skin. “Trust me, you’ll be happy you came.” He said, tightening his grip ever so slightly. You had to fight every molecule in your body to not give in to the touch, to lean into him and forget every single thing you had sworn to that morning, but you persevered. Even if it was with great difficulty, you still considered it as an accomplishment.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You breathed, climbing into the backseat of the vehicle they had waiting for you. He slid in beside you, closing the door gently and locking you into seclusion with him once more.

“Have I ever lied to you, Gold Dust Woman?” He asked, looking over at you. You caught his eye for the first time that morning, feeling the breath catch in your throat.

“Not yet, Jacob.” Out of all the times you wished you could be alone with him, you never once thought you would wish you could get away from him. You looked out of the tinted window, mindlessly drumming your fingers against your leg in a clear show of anxiety.

“You seem tense.” He noted, inching closer without even realizing it.

“Oh, just tired.” You lied, hoping it would ease his worry enough to give you some more time to collect yourself.

“You know you can’t lie to me, Gold Dust Woman.” He said, sneaking his hand towards you and settling it on top of your own. You closed your eyes, revealing in the intimacy that would not last long. You hated knowing that you would have to put the moment to an end even if you were enjoying it so much. No matter if you still wanted Jake, you knew that all the conclusions you had drawn were correct and of grave importance. The longer you let the dance continue, the worse the situation would end. You had hurt him enough to know that you no longer had any right to be selfish, even if you so badly wanted to.

But, delaying the inevitable had always been your area of expertise, and for simplicity’s sake, you thought it alright to do it one last time.

“Can we just… can we just be friends, today? Co-workers?” You asked, avoiding looking at his face. You knew the pain that stemmed from your words was evident and quick to surface. “Yesterday was just… it was a lot for me, and I think I just need to sort my thoughts out before jumping right back into it.”

“Friends…” he deliberated, slowly releasing his hold on your hand. “Did you just friend-zone me?” He asked, almost laughing at the incredulity of the question.

“Just for today, Jacob.” You assured him. Even if it was a lie, you knew it was for the best. Your intent was to get both of you through whatever Aaron had planned for you, and then deal with your personal matters afterwards. If you were to break the news to him so bluntly and so soon, recovery would not be possible in the near future.

“Just for today,” he pondered, looking out the window. “Don’t think we’ve ever been good at being friends, sweetheart, but for you, I’ll try my best.” And he was right. Jake had been much less of a friend than any of the other boys. For a long time, he was an active participant of the party lifestyle that was so accessible in your home, and he grew into an acquaintance. Neither of you were fond of the bonding process, and fell into routine of knowing each other while remaining strangers. Within the months leading up to his confessional session in your bedroom, you had managed to bridge the gap between stranger and friend. You were caught alone more often, sharing secret hangouts away from the others to avoid jealousy or confusion, usually filled with shared music and drunken fun. It was never anything serious, or so you thought. Now, thinking back to the few days you spent with him as a ‘friend’, it was clear to you that Jake was trying to tell you he loved you without actually needing to say the words.

You felt even worse recalling his silent show of adoration, because you realized you had always been doing the same thing to him as Sam had done to you, yet he never seemed broken or bent out of shape because of it. Jake had grown familiar with the idea of loss, but he had not let it get in his way. Friends was never in his itinerary, but when it came to making you happy, he would sacrifice everything including his own life. “So let’s try for a day,” you said, more intrigued by the idea. “Even if we suck at it, it’s worth a shot, right?” He looked back at you, thrilled that you had finally found the strength to look in his direction. He gave you a small smile, not pleased about the idea, but curious as to what it would be like. “Can you spend an entire day not trying to get me into bed?” He chuckled, holding your gaze as he thought of a response.

“That would be the ultimate test of willpower, but I suppose I could try. Do you think you can spend the whole day rejecting me if I can’t?” It was your turn to laugh, finding the nature of the conversation easygoing and comforting. You missed laughing with Jake, and you hoped that after the day was through, you would still be able to laugh with him again.

“I think I can manage.” You nodded.

“Alright, Gold Dust Woman. Friends for a day.” He said, extending his hand towards you. You grabbed it, shaking it with a little bit of force. You felt guilty knowing that he was ultimately agreeing to the loss of you, but you were enjoying the happiness too much to break his heart.

“Friends for a day, Jacob.” You reiterated, dropping your hand back to his side. The rest of the car ride was silent, both of you wondering how you would be able to separate love from your relationship. It was a daunting task, but you were both too stubborn to admit you would not be able to do it. When the car rolled to a stop in front of the venue you were supposed to play at later in the evening, you were confused as to why you needed to be here so soon.

You broke out into the day, squinting at the stinging sunlight in your eyes. You waited for Aaron to join you so you knew where you were headed. He guided you into the back entrance of the building where you immediately noticed a crowd of people much to large for so early in the day. You bit your tongue instead of inquiring about your curiosity, knowing that you would find out why you were there in only a few moments. Jake immediately found himself busy with a crowd of people who were stationed outside of his dressing room, and Aaron guided you towards your own. He had a smile stuck on his face, clearly excited to see your reaction to the news of what you would be doing. When you peered inside your room, Rachel, your stylist, was sitting inside and on her phone to pass the time. “About time you got here,” she said, looking up with a smile. “I was beginning to think that you would never show up.”

“I’m here,” you laughed, giving a small wave to serve as a greeting.

“Sit,” she ordered, directing you towards the wardrobe chair. You did as you were told, taking post in the seat as she grabbed some items from her suitcase of supplies. “We’re going to spend a lot of time together today.” She said as she ran her fingers through your hair.

“Don’t we spend lots of time together already?” You asked with a small smirk on your face.

“Today’s a special day,” she informed you, turning your chair so she could see your face. “Did nobody tell you why you’re here?”

“No, and I’m assuming by now that nobody will.” You didn’t mean to sound so annoyed, but after being pulled away from Sam so early in the morning with no good reason as to why, you couldn’t help but feel slightly put off. She laughed at your comment as your personality showed through and as usual, it didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“You look better today. Brighter, more relaxed. You sleep good last night.” Her comments hit you like a truck. You knew the last two weeks your appearance had been lacking, so run down by the exhausting back and forth you had found yourself in. Running without a destination was tiresome and pointless, but now that the finish line was in sight, you could not lie and say that you did not feel better just by seeing it. You had your energy back, and your mind was finally calmed down just by knowing that you had a real chance at happiness. Until it was in your grasp, though, you refused to accept that this was the end. Your hesitancy to accept finality was not because of doubt in your decision, but because you knew the brothers too well to think they would let this go without a last word.

“Yeah, we did sleep really good last night.” You said, closing your eyes as she began applying makeup to your face. “Think the tour life is just catching up to me.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, dusting eyeshadow over your eyes. “Or the Kiszka life, maybe?” You peeked at her through the eye she wasn’t focused on, surprised that she made such a bold comment.

“Well, they do say that you shouldn’t fall in love with your coworkers.” You said, closing your eye again. With how public your ordeal had been made, you couldn’t even find it within yourself to be upset that she was commenting on it.

“Especially not two of them.” You both shared a laugh, finding it easier to joke about it than make it into a conversation. “Don’t let them steal your shine, Gold Dust Woman. They may be special, but not as special as you.”

“I’m trying,” you assured her. Within a few moments, she was finished with your makeup and pointed you towards an outfit she had picked out for you. She allowed you to change before pinning everything in place, and only took a few moments to do your hair. “Casual today?” You asked, looking the mirror as she worked on the waves in your hair.

“Simple, but beautiful.” She said, spraying on hairspray as she continued. She styled your bangs, making sure they would stay in place before stepping away to take a look at the finished product. “What do you think?” She asked, waiting for an answer. You looked to the mirror, dawning over the detail of your makeup. It was so well done that you could barely tell you were wearing any. Your hair was perfectly in place, and your clothes matched the look effortlessly.

“Very 70’s,” you noted, looking down at the bellbottom jeans. The tank top you were wearing was very low cut, one half a burnt orange and the other a rustic brown. The fabric was connected just under your breastbone with a large gem, and the shirt settled just around your rib cage. She threw a leather jacket your way with a smile and shrug of her shoulders.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s a great thing.” You corrected, throwing the tan coloured jacket over your shoulders.

“Then it’s showtime.” She smiled, ushering you to stand. She guided you into the hallway where groups of people were standing with cameras and sound equipment. You looked back over your shoulder at her, nervous about what was to come next. Between a cluster of bodies, you caught sight of a familiar head of hair. You felt relief flood through you, knowing that whatever Aaron was putting you up to, Jake would be there to do it with you.

He looked around, noticing you almost as soon as you emerged from your dressing room. He broke off the conversation he was stuck in, and pushed through the crowd to join you. When he was fully in your line of sight, you felt like you had been punched in the stomach from his beauty alone. He was dressed in an all white suit, a flash of his chest showing and the lower button of his shirt loose. He had a ring on his finger, a chain around his neck, and a smile on his face that matched the ethereal aura he possessed. You managed a smile to match his despite your anxiety, comforted by his familiarity and always happy to be in his company.

He joined you by your side, clearly itching to wrap an arm around you, but stuck his hand in his pocket instead. He was always open for a challenge, and if being a friend was the subject at hand, he would try his absolute best to achieve the desired outcome. “You know what we’re doing, yet?” He asked, looking down at you. Even if he was adamant on complying with (in his opinion) your ridiculous request, he could not hide the pure adoration he held for you in his eyes. It was hard to ignore, even when you weren’t looking for it, and the strength in which he felt for you nearly sent you to your knees. On top of trying to force yourself out of love with him, you had to try not to punish yourself for the choices you made. Breaking his heart was never something you intended, but it was something you both knew was a possibility.

“Dressing up and taking pictures? That’s usually all you guys do.”

“Ha,” he rolled his eyes, mocking your weak insult. “You’re so clever, you know.”

“I try.” You grinned. He was trying to ease your mind with humour, and it was working. The longer you laughed with him, the less you thought about anything else.

“Pictures will definitely be involved, but not necessarily the focus of the day.” He said, giving you a hint in hopes you would figure it out on your own. You looked around, thinking hard as your eyes gazed at the bodies in view.

“An interview?”

“There you go, sweetheart.” He nodded.

“Like, a real interview?” You asked again, the reality setting in. “For like, a magazine?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, chuckling at your excitement.

“They actually want to interview me, too?”

“Of course they do,” he said, finally reaching out and placing a friendly hand on your upper back. It did not strike you as romantic, rather just a friend sharing your elation. “I meant it when I said that you were meant for this, y/n.” Your heart warmed at his soft smile, and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrap your arm around him, too. It was not laced with any implication, much less like any other touch you shared with him previously. Instead, it was just a physical show of your appreciation for each other. Even if you were not going to end up with Jake, you knew that you had a wicked respect for him as a person and never wanted to see a lifetime without him in it. Even if you were in love with him now, you knew he had the ability to be the best friend you had ever had, and you were holding on to that knowledge to get you through the rest of the battle.

Aaron stepped towards you two, happy to see the comfortable dynamic the two of you were engaged in. He had a small fear of you two not wanting to try and get along for the occasion, especially since the last few weeks he had seen nothing but the two of you ignoring each other. “Alright, are you guys ready?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Jake nodded.

“They’re going to take some pictures first, then the two of you are going to sit and answer some questions. That sound good?”

“Together?” You asked. Aaron nodded. “Okay, sounds good.” The manager gave you both a smile, then nodded his head down the hallway as if to tell you to follow him. When he took off in a fast walk, you both followed suit without any further questions. He lead you down to a nearby room that had been cleared and set up with loads of photography equipment. There was couches off to the side, and beside the white screen for the photography background, both of your guitars were set in stands, clearly polished and shined for the occasion. “They look awfully pretty together, don’t they?” You asked, looking over at Jake. He gave a small chuckle, slowly nodding his head at your words.

“Yeah, they do.” He replied, looking off at the distance but not necessarily at the guitars in question. A sad smile crossed your lips, but you didn’t let it linger. Before you had a chance to move on from the minor hurt, a photographer was quick to join you in the room.

“Alright,” she said, looking between you both. “Let’s get some individual shots, then some together. Mr. Kiszka, we’ll do yours first, if that’s okay.”

“After you, Mr. Kiszka,” you noted, a laugh stuck in your throat. You stepped to the side, allowing him to take the centre of attention. It wasn’t long before she was positioning him and snapping pictures. Some of them on his lonesome, but mostly of him with his SG. You were thankful for Jake’s growing collection; after the tragic loss of his SG due to the altercation between him and Sam, he at least had a backup to play for the meantime. You couldn’t hide your smile as he posed, finding yourself lost in the small details of his face. Even if you knew that a relationship with Jake was not in your future, you couldn’t deny his blinding beauty. His presence took up all of the space in the room, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to complain. You didn’t mind living in Jake’s shadow for the day, as a guitarist and as a person, because he deserved the attention. His talent and his personality was well deserving of recognition, and you were happy to witness it first hand.

“You’re up,” Jake said, placing his guitar back on the stand.

“Okay.” You nodded, making a move to stand in his previous position. You tried to relax yourself as much as you could, lowering your shoulders and putting on a blinding smile. The flash from the camera was overwhelming every time it went off, but you tried your best to not let it bother you. She took a few pictures of you in different positions, getting your best angles before asking you to grab your guitar. You did so, carefully holding it in your hands and positioning it as she asked you to. Eventually, she asked Jake to join you. He grabbed his SG, waiting for her to direct him further. She stepped forward, guiding him towards you and placing you back to back. She helped you position your arms to show off the instruments before taking a step back to see if she needed to change anything.

You were standing, leaning against each other as you held your guitars upright, slightly turned to face the camera. She took a few with no smiles, and a few with. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t thrilled about the outcome; she showed you both the product of her work, and you had fallen in love with the last picture. You were both standing in the same position, guitars shining brightly under the studio lighting, and you had smiles on your faces so large that you would never be able to guess there was any turmoil beneath the surface. Your eyes were glistening with the joy of being with each other. Despite the impending heartache, you had to stop and appreciate the moment of warmth. It was a memory you would long remember, likely until the end of your time, and the fondness would be solely accredited to Jake.

“Can we get a copy of that one?” Jake asked, feeling the exact same as you did about the picture.

“I can edit it before I send it, if you’d rather me do that.” She offered, but he was already shaking his head before she finished speaking.

“No, that’s okay.” He said, looking to you in hopes you agreed.

“Yeah, just like that is fine.” You nodded.

“Alright, sounds good to me. I’ll get started, and the interviewer will be here in a few minutes.” She said, smiling at the two of you. “Thanks, guys.”

“Thank you,” you said, head still spinning at the idea of being plastered on a magazine. Jake placed a gentle hand on your back once more and guided you towards the couches as the photographer left the room.

“See, that wasn’t bad.” He offered, taking a seat first. You sat down behind him, shaking your head.

“It was so cool.” You tried to hide your own gushing about the situation, but it was evident in your features. He laughed at your face, unable to hide his feelings for you as he did so. He settled back on the couch, fighting every urge to touch you in hopes that you might give in first. You settled back, too, also finding it difficult to keep your hands off him. You hoped that once the truth was spoken and the storm had passed, the desire to be with him would somehow disappear.

A few moments later, a young woman stepped in, different from the one who took your pictures. Behind her, there was a crew of people with audio equipment who would take care of the filming. She moved to greet you, shaking both of your hands and introducing herself. She settled on the chair beside the couch, pulling out a clipboard from her bag. “Alright, I won’t take up too much of your time. We just wanted to ask a few questions for the next issue of Guitar World. This tour is the talk of the town, and Gold Dust Woman is one of the biggest up and coming bands around.” She smiled at you as she finished her statement. You thought you were going to choke on your own shock, your heart racing and your eyes widening as you tried to process what she was saying. You had no idea the interview was for ‘Guitar World’, and you had no idea that you had gained enough popularity for such a prestigious magazine to know you by name. “They’re going to film, just so I have the interview on record to write the article later, so don’t mind them.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jake smiled, eyes lingering on the interviewer for a second too long. You noticed, shamed at the rush of jealousy you felt flood your body. You had no right to feel such things about him anymore, and you needed to get yourself out of that headspace as soon as possible.

“So, if you guys are ready, we can get started.” She offered. You both gave a nod, not finding any argument for the statement. “Perfect.” She said, settling back in her chair and giving a thumbs up to the staff running the filming. One they gave her the go-ahead, she started slow, getting you both to state your names and your band’s names. After that, she jumped right into the bulk of the questions. She started with Jake, asking a few simple things about their new album and their plans for the future. She noted the Grammy nomination they had received very recently, and inquired about his excitement on the topic. Eventually, she turned to you and began her deep dive into your musical career. “So, y/n, you and your band seemed to come out of nowhere; have you been a band for long, or is this something new for you?”

“Well, we’ve been a band for quite some time now, but we mostly played at local bars and restaurants around home. We’ve always been fond of the idea of doing something more, but never really had the chance to do it until now.”

“That’s fantastic,” she noted, making sure you knew she was listening. “Now, ‘Gold Dust Woman’, is that a play on the infamous Fleetwood Mac song, or does it mean something more to you?”

“I suppose both,” you chuckled. “I’ve always been a huge fan of their music, and Stevie Nicks in particular, but I was actually given the nickname a while back by a very important person to me. When we agreed to tour with Greta, we hadn’t really talked about an official name. I brought up the idea and they all seemed to love it. From there it was history, I guess.”

“So it’s almost like you get to carry a part of that person with you wherever you go?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, unable to hide the smile that was forming. “I owe a lot to that person, even outside of music, too. They helped me get to where I am today, and I couldn’t think of a better way to thank them for it.” You tried not to look over at Jake, wanting to avoid any sneaking suspicions from the public that it was him you were talking about.

“How has touring been so far for you? You said this was your first time?”

“Yeah, it is. It’s been fantastic so far. Seeing the world, spending time with my best friends and doing the things we love most… I couldn’t have asked for better.”

“Do you have any plans for an album for yourself?” She inquired.

“We definitely talk about it, but we don’t really have a label or anything of the sorts. I’m actually a recording artist when I’m not on stage, so if we do something, I can see it just being a private event for us.”

“I think now you’ll have labels fighting for you; the energy you have on stage is electric, and I don’t need to mention the talent, because that’s just a given.” You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush at her statement.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to ease your nerves as you spoke. “That’s the dream, really. Music has always been a passion, and to think we have a shot at doing it full time is absolutely mind blowing.”

“I think we’re all wondering about your relationship with Greta. Have you been friends for long, or only in the recent months?”

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been friends for years, now. It’s been really cool touring with friends, because even when we’re exhausted, the work still doesn’t feel like work. Just like a little family living life together.” She smiled at the statement, nodding along with your words. Then, she turned her attention to Jake.

“What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Oh, me?” Jake asked. “I agree wholeheartedly. Given the opportunity to work so closely with such fantastic people has been nothing short of remarkable. They’re all very passionate about their work, and they have proven to us beyond anything we ever expected that they were meant for that stage. It’s been an honour to work so closely with them, and if I could have it my way, I’d tour with them for the rest of our careers.” You looked over at him, a small blush dusting your cheeks at his kind words.

“You guys really seem to fit together in terms of visuals; has there been any hardships along the way? I know that sometimes everything might not be as perfect as it seems.” After a moment, he gave a slow shake of his head.

“No, not that I can think of. The benefit of working with people who you connect with on a higher level is that even when we struggle and all of our ideas seem to clash, we always come out stronger.” He said, confident in his answer. “I can’t speak for the future, but so far, it’s been delightful and almost cathartic in a way to connect with people who live and feel the same way about life as we do.”

“Awesome,” she grinned. “And of course, this might be a loaded question, but from one musician’s perspective on another, what is your opinion on Gold Dust Woman?” He drew in a long breath, leaning his head back for a moment as he thought about his answer. Eventually, he looked over at you while he collected his thoughts, then looked back at the interviewer.

“I think that they embody the spirit of what music used to be, and in todays age, that’s incredibly hard to find. As a musician, I have so much respect for their work and the energy they put into it and as a guitarist, I feel like there is so much that I learn from her all of the time. It’s wonderful to share a love for something so beautiful, especially when it’s something we can teach each other more about every day. I’m grateful for her talent and all of the ideas that she brings to the table, because watching her work her magic on that fretboard has inspired me to work harder with mine.”

“You seem quite fond of her,” she noted. Jake let out a small laugh, nodding his head.

“Yeah, you could say that. She’s more than my colleague; she’s my best friend. Family, even. I mean look at her up on that stage when she performs. It’s like she’s the modern day Stevie Nicks. I hear it in her voice, in the passion and the love for music, but it see it in her eyes and her heart. She’s got this aura that follows her around wherever she goes. It screams rock and roll, and power, and all of the other wonderful things that come with it. No matter who you are, I think it’s hard not to admire her when she’s doing what she loves most. And aside from the talent, she’s just a great person, and I can confidently speak for all of us when I say that it’s been an incredibly inspiring experience to be able to work with her.”

You could not seem to tear your eyes away from him as he spoke, your throat constricting and your eyes threatening tears. You had never heard words from Jake that were quite like the ones he spoke, then. They were full of truth and more profound than anything you had ever heard before. You never would have believed someone could speak about you with such admiration, and the fact that he was willing to admit it to the world was overwhelming. You had to pry your eyes away from him, feeling yourself falling in love all over again despite knowing that you couldn’t have him like that, anymore. You had made your decision, and you had to stick with it. It was the only way you would make it out alive.

“How do you feel on that subject?” She asked you, pulling you out of the trance you were stuck in.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you shrugged. “I mean, Jake is a phenomenal guitarist and working so closely with someone who can create magic with an instrument has been enlightening and encouraging. Despite popular belief, it’s never been a deterrent for me to work with someone who is so skilled. If anything, it’s been a huge benefit, and I find everything he does it’s very influential. When I feel like I should give up, I can look to him and find the inspiration to keep going. He teaches me just as much about music as I have for him, and as a musician, I envy the talent he has. I hope that I continue to have the opportunity to grow and play alongside of him, and that I can continue to know him as a person. We owe our success as a band to Greta, but I owe my success as a guitarist to him.” You could feel him staring, but you did your best to fight the pressure to look back.

“My final question for you guys is quite a simple one; we couldn’t call ourselves a guitar magazine if we didn’t ask the most important question of all. What guitars do you both play?” You both laughed at the simple nature of the inquiry, looking to each other to see who wanted to go first.

“I have a 61’ Gibson SG. Although, back when they first produced the line of guitars, they sold them under the name Les Paul. It’s my go to, and my pride and joy. I have a few other ones I use, but that guitar is definitely my number one.”

“I mainly use my 57’ reissue. It’s a Les Paul Gold Top style, and it’s been my tried and true since I started writing music.”

“Alright,” she grinned. “Thank you both so much, it’s been a pleasure speaking with you. I hope to talk again sometime, and I hope that the rest of the tour brings just as much happiness as the first half has seemed to. Maybe next time we see each other, you’ll have a new record for us to fawn over.” She told you.

“Thank you so much.” You said, reaching out to shake her hand. Jake did the same, and the both of you settled back in your seat as the crew filed out of the room. You let out a long sigh, heart still pounding in your chest. When the room was empty aside from the pair of you, you finally turned to look at him. “Did you mean all of that?”

“Of course I did, Gold Dust Woman.” He whispered. “Did you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, feeling the sting of heartbreak begin to make its appearance once again. You had no idea how to let him go after he said such beautiful things about you. He checked the clock on the wall, noting the time of day before he spoke again.

“Did you want to grab some lunch before soundcheck?” He asked. “As friends, of course.” He added, making sure you were aware he was still adhering to the agreement.

“That sounds like fun.” You agreed, almost wishing that you did not agree to be friends for the day. The longer you spent with him, the more your morals seemed to disappear.

“I’ll go get changed, then we can go?” You nodded, unable to speak any more words without either ending things forever or professing undying love for him, and neither seemed like an option you wanted for yourself. Without any other conversation, he stood and left you on your lonesome.

You leaned back into the cushions of the couch, praying that they would swallow you whole and hopefully end your incessant misery. You knew that going out with Jake would only worsen your predicament, but you couldn’t seem to refuse the offer. Much like the beginning, he was irresistible in his charm and impossible to forget. You weren’t even sure if the devil or the angel was behind the decision, and you didn’t seem to care enough. Whether good or bad, you were bound to enjoy the experience anyway. If you had to leave him, you would at least have one good memory to end the experience with. You settled your shaking hands, satiating your thoughts with empty promises to yourself as you stood. You knew that in no way was entertaining any further relationship with Jake the right thing to do, but you were just too much of a coward to confess it.

You walked into the hallway, almost immediately running into Aaron. He gave you a pat on the back and a few words of gratitude for your cooperation. You made it a note to genuinely thank him later on once the turmoil in your heart had settled. You walked towards Jake’s dressing room, waiting patiently for him to finish up. You did not have to wait for long, because within a few moments, his door swung open and he was back in your company dressed in his regular clothes. He had a pair of sunglasses settled low on his nose and a lazy smile on his lips. It only took a few seconds for sandalwood to choke you and your sin to catch up in time for the kill.

Wordlessly, you walked out of the back door of the venue. You headed in the direction of the street in search of somewhere to eat. The sidewalks were barren in contrast to the cars passing by, and you only had to walk for a short while before you came across a strip of buildings. There were a few local shops, but your eyes landed on a coffee shop that peaked your interest so much that you couldn’t bother to see what else the town had to offer. Jake noticed your expression, not needing to ask if that’s where you wanted to go. When it came to caffeinated beverages, you were always the first in line. He led the way to the front door, opening it for you and allowing you to go inside.

The vibe in the air was immediately calming and the smell of coffee filled your nose. You let out an audible sigh of relief just knowing that you would have one in your hand soon enough. Jake stood beside you in line, silent but relaxed as you both looked over the menus. “What do you want to eat?” He asked, turning his head to look over at you.

“I think the ham and cheddar looks good,” you noted before looking to the next board. “Oh, they have soup!” You exclaimed, keeping your voice quiet. He had to laugh at the glee you felt for such a simple idea. Before you could say anything else, he took a step towards the cashier. You followed behind him, but clearly didn’t need to aid him in ordering. He listed off your coffee, the sandwich and your favourite soup out of the list they were offering. He ordered for himself and paid before you could even think to grab your wallet. “You didn’t have to do that, Jake.”

“I know, I wanted to.” He assured you, moving down the line to wait for the order. When everything was ready, you both carried the items to a secluded booth in the corner. When you sat down, silence became you once more as if it were your destiny to have so much to say but be unable to speak it. You were so wound up with anxiety that you found it difficult to begin eating. Instead, you sipped at your coffee and found yourself delighted at the taste. Once again, he proved to you his ability to remember the details that nobody else cared to look for. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he noted, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He was occupied with the screen only for a moment before you felt your own vibrate. You grabbed it, checking the message he had sent you. There was an attachment, and when you clicked on it you felt a whole new wave of shame wash over you. It was the picture the two of you had gotten together during the photoshoot. “She emailed it to me during the interview. Figured you might want it too.”

“I do, thank you.” You muttered, never letting your eyes move from the photograph. It was an infinite reminder of the elation the two of you felt when around each other, and it would forever haunt you because you knew you had to let it go.

“Speak your truth, Gold Dust Woman.” He said, taking a bite of his own food.

“What do you mean?” You asked, cracking the lid of the disposable soup container.

“Something is on your mind.”

“No, I’m okay.” You shook your head, another punch of guilt thrown when you saw he had somehow also known what your favourite soup was. He seemed to know everything about you without you ever needing to speak the words, and it seemed like every higher power had intent to punish you, and they were doing their job splendidly.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you can’t lie to me, y/n.” You looked up to meet his eye, immediately crushed under the weight of his stare. You had to correct your previous thought; it was not the picture that would haunt you for a lifetime, but rather him as a whole. How strange it felt to be haunted by someone was still alive, but that was exactly how it felt to be in his presence in that moment.

“What do you want me to say, Jake?”

“Anything,” he pleaded, although not blatantly apparent in his desperation for an answer. “You didn’t ask me to be friends for a day because you can’t make a decision; you asked me to be friends today because you already have, and it’s not me.”

“No, Jake.” You shook your head hoping he would see reason. You hated that he could decode every lie and half-truth that came out of your mouth before you even spoke it. “It’s not like that,” it was like that, but you were nowhere near ready to profess it.

“Then what is it, sweetheart?” His voice was not condescending, nor angry. It was inquisitive, like he just needed to know what the truth was.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, closing your eyes to block out the tears that were begging to be shed. “I know that it hurts, but I don’t know where it hurts. It doesn’t stop, and I don’t think it ever will. And I know that we suck at being friends, because I’ve spent the entire day falling more in love with you than I ever was before. You get on camera, and you say those sweet things that nobody else has ever thought about me, and you look at me like I’m the best thing to walk this earth, but I’m not, Jake. I’m far from it, and you need to realize that, too.”

“So that’s your plan? You want me to stop loving you so you don’t have to pull away, first?” He knew, and he knew from the minute he saw you. You couldn’t back down and you couldn’t run away. He had you cornered, and you felt like you were going to snap under the pressure. “If so, that’s never going to happen, angel. I’ve loved you quietly for years, and I can keep loving you quietly while I hope you come back. Falling out of love with you has never been an option, so I’ll learn to live with it, even if it hurts.”

“And I’ll love you forever, even if it hurts.” You said, a grimace taking hold on your lips. “I can’t figure out how to stop loving you.”

“Then why are you trying if you haven’t made up your mind?” You looked up, tears blurring your vision as they landed on his face. He had locked you into stalemate yet again. You wished that you didn’t have to feel it anymore, but you felt everything. The pain sprinkled with regret, the shame mixed with sadness, and the love coated with desire. You felt everything for him, but you knew you shouldn’t. It was a terrible game to play, the one in which you tried to differentiate between right and wrong, especially when it came to him. From the very beginning, the rights felt wrong with Jake and the wrongs felt right. When in his company, you had no idea how to draw the line between needs and wants, and you had no idea how to implement any sort of morality when he was more powerful than any sin or holy force. “You can say the words, y/n. I can take it.”

“I don’t want to.” You shook your head.

“You have to.” He said, defeat clear in his face. He had lost, and he needed to hear you say it in order to begin to heal from the wounds.

“Jake,” you sighed, hands shaking as you reached for your coffee cup “don’t do this, now. That’s not why I came here with you.”

“Maybe it’s why I came, y/n.” He offered the idea, knowing that you hadn’t yet thought of that possibility. “I love you, and you know that, but if I’m not what you want anymore, I need to learn how to be your friend. It’s going to suck, but it’s something I have to do, and I have to start now if I’m ever going to be able to do it.”

“I love you,” you whispered, biting the inside of your lip to stop the tears from falling.

“But you love him more.” He said, watching your face to try and understand if he was reading the situation right. “It’s okay, angel.”

“It’s never been about that,” you shook your head. “It’s not about loving someone more, or even wanting someone more. It’s just been about what feels right, and what you and I have been doing is fantastic, but it’s just as hard as it is good. I don’t know if I can do that for the rest of my life.” Your heart ached for him, and the pain that was clear in his eyes. He had no fight left in him, and neither did you. It was a horrible thing to say, but it was the truth. You and Jake had been no stranger to struggle, and perhaps the complications lied within the lust that so often overshadowed your emotional need. You had forgone the emotional connection in hopes that sex would solve it for you, but the truth of the matter was that you both had no idea how to love one another despite feeling it so strongly. The good days were great, but the bad days were horrible. Days of ignoring each other, the name calling and yelling all pointed straight to failure.

You knew you could love Jake forever, but the work that you would need to do was extensive, and the idea alone sounded exhausting. He was worth the work, but the knowledge that heartbreak was still such a huge possibility if you chose him was a major deterrent. It was not a lack of love that was driving you away, rather just your fear getting in the way once more. If it were any normal type of pain, you would be able to see past it, but heartbreak over Jake was entirely new type of pain that was worse than any other.

“That’s okay, Gold Dust Woman.” He assured you, but you saw a glisten of tears in his eye. It was gutting, and you had to look away to stop yourself from crying, too. “We tried our best, and that’s what matters.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover the quiver in his voice, but you noticed it more than you heard the words he was saying. “No matter if you’re with me or not, you are the fire that burns in my heart, y/n. It has been a privilege to love you, and I really hope that maybe I’ll get the chance to love you again someday.”

“Jake,” you pleaded for him to stop. Your heart could not take the weight of his grief, and you were certain if he continued, you would succumb to the temptation of loving him.

“I get to speak my mind, too.” He defended himself. “I love you so much, y/n. More than I ever thought I could, and I’m happy if you’re happy. Loving you has never been a selfish thing for me; I do it even knowing that it could hurt me, because your happiness is above everything else. I’m just grateful to have spent time with you at all.”

“I love you, Jake.” You said, reaching out for his hand that was resting on the table. “I keep thinking that things would be easier if we did this the right way, but there is no right way, and it hurts no matter what I do. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s okay that this wasn’t for us, but it kills me. I wanted it for us so badly, but sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“I know, angel.” He said, running his thumb over the back of your hand. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“Can we… just wait until we’re back at the venue? One last date, in love and happy.” You asked, but it was more like begging. You could bear the weight of the separation yet, and you would do anything to delay the inevitable.

“You don’t look very happy, baby.” He said, reaching across the table and swiping a tear away with his free hand. You closed your eyes, fighting back a sob as he held your face in his hand.

“I’m with you, so of course I am.” You breathed, but more tears fell just from speaking the lie of happiness.

“Come on, beautiful. Look at me.” He said, voice so quiet that it barely broke through the air of misery. You did as he wanted, eyes opening only to be met with his own saddened face. “Dates are supposed to be fun, there’s no need for tears.” His comfort served little purpose, because there was one falling down his own cheek as he tried to calm you. You lifted your hand, settling it atop of the one he had on your cheek. You managed a small smile through the mess of tears, uncaring for the public display of emotion.

“You’re right,” you sniffled, nodding your head. You wiped your face clean, taking a breath to calm yourself down. “Dates are meant to be fun.”

“So much for friends,” he chuckled, wiping his own cheek free of tears.

“I told you, we sucked at it anyway.”

“We did.” He agreed. “Destined to be lovers, stuck being friends.” He attempted to make the joke, but the reality of his words was harsh. You took another drink of coffee, hoping the beverage would warm your soul and give you the energy to make it through the day.

You both got lost in small chatter, ignoring the outside world and choosing to remain in the little comfortable bubble you had created in the cafe. Inside, nothing could hurt. At that table, you were free to love each other forever and never have to worry about stopping. Outside, the cold world would put an end to the relationship you had worked so hard to save. You wished you could stay in the cafe until the end of time, with Jake and away from any other worldly trouble, but it was just not plausible. Eventually, when both of your phones began to ring, you knew you had to move on and let go. Letting go was the hardest part of living, but you knew you had to face it sooner or later. You could only hope that when the storm cleared you could both move on and better yourselves from the mistakes you had made with each other, but the thought of learning from your mistakes with Jake only to use the lessons with another was sickening. As much as you knew that you needed to, letting him walk away was terrifying, and the thought of him loving another was gut wrenching.

When it came time to leave, you both were dragging your feet walking out the door. With his hand in yours, you began the slowest walk of your life, using a snails pace to avoid the inevitable end that came with your arrival. The building came into view like a grim foreshadowing of the future. Before your reached the door, you had to stop him in hopes of savouring one more moment of peace. You turned to face him, hand still resting in his own as you tried to catch his eye. His gaze seemed glued to the ground, fearful of looking up at you in case you caught sight of his weakness. “I love you, Jake.” You whispered, snaking your arm around his neck. He pulled you into him by your hip, so close to your face that your noses were brushing together.

“You could take any type of love, multiply by a million, and you still would only have a glimpse of how I feel about you.” Your heart was shattered, all of the pieces lying sharp in your chest and stabbing into you with every breath you took. You leaned forward, kissing him softly as a show of affection, but also as an apology for the pain you caused. For a few beautiful seconds the world seemed right, but as always, it had to come to and end. He placed another soft kiss to your lips, just like rubbing salt in a wound. “I’ll always be here, Gold Dust Woman. If you ever change your mind… I’m here.”

“You’ve always been too good for this world, Jake. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be more for you.” He shook his head, face still unbearably close to your own.

“You are everything, angel.” He corrected, not willing to accept any slander towards you. “In another world, you and I are happy together. Just because it’s not this one doesn’t mean that you aren’t enough for me. Maybe you’re just too much, and I don’t know how to appreciate all of it yet.” He leaned up and pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment too long. He had to force himself away from you, knowing that it was doing nothing but hurting you both more. “Thank you for everything, y/n. These last few months have been so amazing, and it’s all because of you.”

“Thank you, Jake. You have no idea how much you’ve done for me.” He gave a tight lipped smile and a curt nod, knowing he shouldn’t continue feeding into the conversation, but wanting it more than anything.

“Here’s to being friends, Gold Dust Woman.”

“To being friends,” you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears begging to make a return. You both let your stare linger for a moment longer before you eventually took a step towards the building. He watched you walk away, desperate for you to stay but unable to muster the courage to say it. He knew the most amicable thing was to let you go, but it was horrendous for him knowing that once you walked through that door, you would never be his again.

You nearly broke down the door with the strength you used to open it, tears flooding your cheeks once again as you walked towards your dressing room. As you stepped inside, you managed to stop your sobs just enough to catch your breath. Unfortunately for you, it was not enough to evade the questions of the person who took post in your room, waiting for your return.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” You looked up, shock and sadness written all over you with no way to hide it. As if the universe was playing a trick, another violent lesson after your months of nothing but learning, Sam was sat on your couch, looking up at you with major concern.

“Fuck, Sam.” You swore, wiping your face free of the mascara stains. “You scared me.” That was not what you truly wanted to say; in fact, you wanted to send him away and cry in solitude, to tend to your wounds without an audience, but you thought that maybe his comfort was exactly what you needed. The rainbow shining after the storm, sitting on your couch waiting for you just to prove that life could still be beautiful despite the pain.

“Sorry, Princess. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head, taking a step towards him. “It’s okay, I’m okay, everything is okay.” You promised, but you were trying to convince yourself of the fact more than anything else. “I’m glad you’re here, I’ve been trying to find the time to talk to you all day.” You chuckled, shaking your head at the days events.

“Well, I’m here now.” He assured you, standing to meet you. He reached out, drawing you in to him with an open arm and an invitation. You gravitated towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He responded with the same energy, holding you tightly and revelling in the warmth of your touch. You settled your head on his chest, taking a deep breath to relax your mind. In his arms, it felt like the war was over; you had won, and it was time to go home and rest. “Oh, I got you a coffee. I heard you were here early this morning, so I figured you didn’t have time to stop and grab one for yourself.” He said, pulling back from you only slightly. Your heart warmed at his words, comforted by the idea of him thinking of you.

“Thank you, Sammy.” You smiled, already feeling the pain begin to melt away.

“Oh, and congratulations on the interview.” He grinned, reaching behind him to grab the cup sitting on the table. “I know we’re supposed to be keeping our distance, but I just had to come and see you. Being on the cover of Guitar World is a huge deal, and I’m so happy for you.”

“It’s okay, I’m happy you’re here.” You assured him, feeling your heart speed as you prepared to confess all of the things you had been waiting to tell him.

“Me, too.” He smiled, handing you the coffee that was still hot. “I’m always happy to see you.” You closed your eyes, letting the cup warm your hands as you mustered the courage to speak. Before you said a word, you brought the lid to your lips and took a long sip of the beverage. As you swallowed it down, you almost grimaced at the taste, immediately looking down at the lid. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t remember how you liked it, so I got some cream and sugar on the side.” He said, suddenly recalling the bag of items that was also laying on the table.

You felt frozen, your eyes stuck on the lid marked with nothing but a big, bold red flag. The blood drained from your face, leaving you pale while dread seeped in to take its place. The interaction, although small, spoke louder than anything had before. A flash of memories took over you, recalling all of the coffee cups presented to you from Jake in the past, all marked with hearts and smiles, and the exact order that you would have had if you bought it yourself. You thought you might be sick, your stomach churning with unease and anxiety as you continued to stare down at the cup in your hands. The interaction was earth-shattering, making it obvious to you of one horrific thing; Sam knew you, and that was true, but just not enough. After months of dates at cafe’s and restaurants, he couldn’t seem to remember the simplest of things, and for some reason, the fact was abhorrent for you to choke down.

Sam knew you, but he did not know you as well as Jake did, and after all of this time, he was still not the one for you.

You had spent so much of your life wishing that Sam would notice you, that he would suddenly become the person you had always hoped he could be, but it was all too much to ask of him. All of those months ago, the euphoria of finally hearing that he cared about you the same as you felt about him seemed to overshadow the reality of the situation. Your love for Sam had clouded your judgement in the worst way possible, so much so that you had put him in a pedestal and opted to ignore every flaw and red flag, just so you could continue viewing him as this perfect person you had created in your mind. If Sam wanted you so badly, he would have cared enough to notice how bad you wanted him. He would have taken the step, crushed the fear of rejection and loss so he could have his chance to be with you, but he did not. He waited until the very last second to speak, until you were emotionally vulnerable and unable to see the difference. Sam loved you, and you loved him, but it was never enough to make the difference. If Sam was meant to be with you, the universe would have allowed it long before now, and it never would have sacrificed Jake in the process.

As much as you hoped Sam was the one, he was not, and your former self wept for the person you wished he could be. You were such a fool for Sam that you disregarded every warning the higher powers had been trying to show you. Jake making his move on you that night was not a cruel trick, nor a joke made by the universe to laugh at your struggle. It was a sign and even more so, a reminder that if Sam was meant to be yours, he would be. It was the universe begging for you to move on, to actually see the world you had been missing out on due to your blind loyalty to someone who refused to notice you. Jake approached you that night because he loved you wholly and selflessly, the same way you had been loving his brother. He took the chance despite knowing you were foolishly in love with someone else, and he did it with strength and courage, even if he knew he was bound to lose sooner or later.

Choosing Sam was not a way to avoid heartbreak; it was only the beginning of a lifelong struggle with what-if’s. Sam had the opportunity to love you for years, but never managed to take the leap. Jake loved you so much and so quietly that it killed him, and when he finally understood he couldn’t just stop loving you, he found the courage to confess despite his own fear of vulnerability. By choosing Sam, you would only be admitting to your inability to grow and change, and you wouldn’t be facing up to any fears that you had been trying so hard to conquer. Loving Jake had risk, but real love always did, and he was more than worth the risk. If you truly grew as much as you believed you did, you would have recognized that your fear was for good reason, but nothing close to what you previously thought it was; you weren’t scared of Jake breaking your heart, you were afraid of losing the only person in the world you had ever genuinely loved with every single part of you. It was not a fear of hurt, rather a fear of failure, but in that moment, you knew you loved Jake enough to make anything work. Failure wasn’t an option, because you would die before losing him.

As you sat, staring at the coffee in your hands, you challenged every single thing you had ever believed in. When you looked up at Sam, you knew that you had made a mistake. Sam was not your person, and he never would be, but you had already broken the heart that had sacrificed everything for you. With little hope and little faith, you knew you had to right your wrongs one last time, to atone for the sins you had been recklessly committing for weeks. You had already broken two hearts, and now you had to break a third before ever having a chance at peace. You knew you had to, but the struggle lied within finding the strength to do so. Your only solace was in the idea that you may still be able to salvage the relationship with Jake, and that after so much heartbreak, you might actually be able to mend two back together.

It was time to pick up the pieces and go home, and home was a person, this time, and not the one you previously thought it to be. Jake had always been home to you even if you failed to realize it, and your only hope was that home still had his heart open to you. If not, you wondered if you had the right words to get Jake to find room in his life again for a Gold Dust Woman, because his Gold Dust Woman was more than ready to love him for the rest of her life.

pale shadow of a woman, black widow, pale shadow of a dragon, dust woman

haven’t i always said that it’s not over until it’s over? ;)

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld @gretavansara @jaketlove @laneygvf @freefallthoughts @psychedelicsprinkles @idontwannabeherenow @joshysgirl @sanguinebats @objectsinspvce @klarxtr @sinarainbows @jakesmustache @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @profitofthedune

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altocat · 5 months

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i saw that you also said you love to talk about other characters, not just sephiroth, so i thought i'd ask: what are your favorite things/traits/moments etc of all of the playable characters we've had across the compilation of 7? i feel like i can talk about all the characters forever :)

Ooh yeah! This will be fun. Okay!

Cloud: Cloud is the most relatable character to me, and probably my favorite if we're being honest. I relate strongly to his identity issues, and I love when he tries to act tough while concealing a softer nature. My personal favorite scene with him is the flashback where he realizes that he was stronger than Sephiroth this whole time, throwing Sephiroth down the pit. It's a powerful moment, probably Cloud's single greatest moment in the entire series.

Tifa: Tifa is literal perfection. She looks like a tough tomboy and yet she's also one of the kindest people ever. She's maternal, loyal, supportive, and devoted to a fault. The team would be lost without her. She's the glue that holds everyone together. An absolute queen. My favorite moment with her is Under the Highwind, regardless of her relationship with Cloud being romantic or platonic.

Barret: Barret's got a heart of gold. He's always part of my main party when playing the OG. A great comrade and an even GREATER father. His relationship with Marlene is beautiful and so warm and wholesome. Barret also spits some iconic quotes over the course of the game, as well as some hard truths. My favorite scene with him, naturally, is his encounter with Dyne. The line "my hands are too stained to carry her anymore" gets me to cry no matter how many times I play.

Aerith: Aerith is the biggest hero of FFVII next to Cloud. She's the one who ultimately saves the day, and all through her sacrifice. I'm not even gonna talk about my favorite moment with her because...you guys already know the scene. It's the single most famous scene in gaming history. Aerith has a playful, occasionally chaotic edge to her personality that she hides behind a sweet smile. I absolutely adore that about her. She's so full of love and so full of selflessness, but she also loves to tease people. Also an absolute queen.

Red XIII: Nanaki is a cat btw. I have always seen him as a cat. That's my controversial opinion on him lmao. Also him howling for Seto makes me ugly cry every single time without fail. I appreciate that Nanaki seems occasionally stoic and serious, but then has kind of a childlike or immature fear or insecurity about something. There's that duality to him that ties to the other characters in a sense. Anyway, I love him. He is a very good boy.

Cid: Cid took a while to grow on me initially. He's pretty rough around the edges. But my favorite moment with him happens in the last third where he sorta becomes the de facto leader of the group with Cloud gone. And I like that he seems to have reconciled with Shera as well. Honestly, he's just kind of a badass and really cool at what he does. Also he gets to go to space. Good for him tbh.

Cait Sith: This one is hard because there's always a debate as to how much of a character Cait Sith actually IS. It's Reed puppeting a machine/doll basically. How much of Cait Sith has a mind of his own? Regardless, Cait Sith isn't my fave. He's a spy, after all. But he makes up for it in the end, even if he kinda fades into the background. Reed is honestly more of an interesting character overall. I can't name any specific favorite moments with Cait Sith specifically. But also he's a small Scottish cat. And that's rad.

Vincent: This edgy boi. Also not one of my faves, but he's grown a lot more on me over time. He wins for always having the coolest voice in the entire group. And I really like the scene where he reunites with Lucrecia. Vincent is kind of gruff and understated at times compared to the rest of the cast. But he has a gentle side as well, and one hell of a cool backstory. Also I love monsters and gothic imagery in general.

Yuffie: Yuffie is...my least favorite main character. I don't hate her. I've just never been a fan of the "spunky loudmouth child" trope. With that said, I'm sure the Remake trilogy will breathe new life into her and add some extra appeal for me. I like what I've seen so far. And Yuffie's bluntness and playfulness can be cute from time to time.

Zack: Counting him because of Crisis Core. He's probably my third favorite character. His death is the saddest scene in the entire compilation imo. He's a character who is wholly encompassed by love, who deals with a LOT of pain, and who proves to be better and worthier than most people put together. Like Aerith, he sacrifices everything. And also like Aerith, his legacy will live on forever.

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #barret wallace #aerith gainsborough #red xiii #yuffie kisaragi #zack fair #vincent valentine #cait sith #cid highwind

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plateauofmemories · 18 days

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Anyway after watching like, half of the KHIII cutscenes last Friday I feel even more confident that they prioritized the game making emotional sense over having it make like. Logical sense. At all.

Almost any given scene feels good and true and emotionally resonant in itself, but trying to take any of the together gets nonsensical.

Like, what is the plot - Xehanort is trying to recreate the Ancient Keyblade War to forge the χ-blade and summon Kingdom Hearts. Sure. Cool. How are we going to do that? By gathering 13 Seekers of Darkness and 7 Guardians of Light to clash? Okay, then why is True Org XIII like, actively trying to disrupt Sora + co's attempts to gather their 7? Why is MX so like, triumphant in 3D when he points out two in Mickey's count belong to him? Like, if you need them to have a full team to achieve your goal, don't you... Want them to fill out their ranks? Why drown Aqua in darkness, you need them to get Aqua.

Okay, but maybe you don't want them to get their 7 because you'd rather get the princesses of heart and use them as your 7! And you don't want them raining on your parade. Except everybody is definitely describing that as the backup plan in KHIII. So. Y'know.

But what about the 13 Seekers of Darkness? We're gonna make a bunch of people Xehanort! Which, when done to Terra and almost done to Sora seems to be a process that totally subsumes the host's personality/consciousness (or at least should - Terra still being able to resist is what causes Xehanort all those problems!); the cast for KHIII, however, seems to basically be themselves but with yellow eyes. So maybe we decided we don't need to do all that.

Except when Larxene is dying, she makes some comment like "becoming that old geezer's heart tank? No thanks.". This gives us a look into her feelings/character! But also like, girl, we are in the Keyblade Graveyard barreling towards the endgame at top speed. What the fuck do you mean "becoming"? You're not already?? We are making the goddamn χ-blade right now.

Xigbar actively complains about finding a 13th vessel multiple times. They have two backups on deck.

Like.

More than one iron in the fire and a plan for every eventuality but also no one seems to know which iron is the priority and which eventuality we are supposed to be actively aiming for.

And I'd guess that's probably because each featured draft of the plot worked to showcase some of the characters' finales while cutting out others and they just. Decided to get everybody in, fuck whatever happens to the plot.

#plateau is khposting #the most egregious but also least annoying example of this to me is like. the riku replica #like i cannot think of a watsonian reason that mx would want the riku replica as a vessel esp since it will cost effort and resources #but like. the people care 👏 about 👏 repliku 👏 so he's gotta be there #and i feel like. they don't even try to give a justification? maybe i'm forgetting something #but i think it's just like. he's here bitch what are you gonna do about it?#like damn. nothing. no worries 👍

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cookinguptales · 1 year

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wwdits tarot: death

Sorry for the late posting tonight! I……. forgot. lmao

It’s time for probably the most misunderstood card of the entire deck, to the point where it’s almost a cliche when you’re talking about tarot.

XIII. Death.

Now… Death isn’t about literal death, most of the time. It is about the death of the now. It is a card about change, but unlike Wheel of Fortune, there’s a very real sense that you need to get rid of what you currently have so you can have something new. You must abandon attachments that are no longer serving you and reach out to something better.

Death, as a card, is death in the sense of autumnal foliage. Leaves die, yes, but only to protect the tree during the coming winter. And then new leaves can grow in their place. It is a necessary death to make room for new life, y’know? Like many deities associated with death, this card is largely about the death of the current and the death of the self — but not necessarily a permanent death that signifies the end.

When this card comes up in a reading, it’s usually actually a sign of opportunity. It tells us that change is inevitable and often uncomfortable, but it will give us the opportunity to grow and change and experience new things that will make our lives better in the long run.

With all that in mind, you’ll probably understand why I’m not just being too literal when I tell you that I’ve chosen Colin Robinson.

Yes, Colin is the only one of our main cast who’s died in a meaningful way. (Like… I mean, they’re almost all dead, but not dead-dead. Not head-crushing dead.) And when he died, the cast all had to grapple with their grief in very disparate ways.

But like Death the card, Colin Robinson’s death was an opportunity for change and rebirth. He managed to come back as a wholly new person, bringing up a lot of questions about nature and nurture and the essence of change.

I’ve always thought that Colin Robinson’s journey was interesting because it did bring up such questions about meaningful change. Like… he did read his journals and revert back to his former self, but he seemed intrinsically changed by his experience as Laszlo’s son. He could never grow up into anything but what he was, but he got to have a childhood blessedly free of all the things that seemed to burden him as an adult.

As an adult, Colin Robinson always seemed to have trouble with his own existence. Sure, he liked draining people, but you could tell it bothered him, that he had to drain his loved ones even when he didn’t want to. It bothered him that no one wanted to be around him.

When he was reborn as a child, suddenly, he didn’t have that problem anymore. Everyone wanted to be around him. Laszlo, Guillermo, and Sean all became quasi-father figures and he had adoring audiences at the club.

It’s… debatable, honestly, whether young energy vampires just feed in different ways (being annoying, demanding attention, breaking things, being loud, etc.) or if that’s uh. Just how children behave. But either way, this did give Colin Robinson a second chance at creating these meaningful interpersonal relationships.

That’s why it was so sad, in a way, to see familiar patterns playing out with him. Having difficulty making friends his age, starting to hurt people just to feed on them, etc. And then, in the end, he largely returned to who he’d been.

But did he always have to? It’s hard to say whether this was the first time Colin Robinson had been through this cycle of death and rebirth. He didn’t remember a life before the one he was living in the first three seasons, but it’s possible that this was just the first time he’d left notes for himself.

(And if it was the first time — why now? Who knows!)

It’s just interesting that Baby Colin seems to be so thoroughly a symbol for the inevitability of change, but also an intangible sense of self that you can’t escape from.

Like Colin, Death is about change while retaining who you are. It’s not a literal death, so you are who you are before you changed. Just… a different version of yourself. Maybe a better one, if you’re lucky.

I’m so curious to see if our Colin Robinson will also find himself permanently changed by his period of rebirth. His humming Rap Tap On Wood does seem to imply that no one can be wholly unchanged by a parent’s somewhat dubious love, even if they are an energy vampire.

Either way, I do think he makes a fantastic Death. His very existence seems to predicate on a need to be reborn once a century, and the husk of his old body is very literally discarded to make way for a new one that seems to feed on attention until it can grow into a brand-new adult form. Death is all about abandoning attachments that are well past their expiration date, and. Well. I guess an entire body could qualify.

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose, I suppose.

Anyway. Imagery.

In the Rider-Smith-Waite tarot, Death rides on a pale horse wearing armor that shows the invulnerability of death. Around him, people from all walks of life fall to his feet. There is no one who can escape Death or the change that it brings.

Death’s pale horse really does seem to be a very key part of this iconography, so — what the hell, Colin Robinson. You can keep the horse.

So our Colin Robinson will be riding on a horse, but — I think a reversal could be fun. Instead of death being all bones, his pale horse will be. So Colin will be riding on a horse made of bones, his armor of corporate casual on his back. His eyes glow blue, and those around him are falling as he drains them dry.

And standing there next to him, one hand stroking the skeletal horse’s side, is Baby Colin surveying all that one day he must become.

(Baby, you would’ve loved the puppet in War Horse.)

wwdits tarot masterpost

#wwdits meta #wwdits #wwdits tarot #colin robinson

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todayimgonnaplay · 10 months

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Today I'm gonna play: Final Fantasy XIII-2

This is my first post! I don't have a format on how I'm going to discuss games, so I'm just going to rant out whatever comes to mind I guess! I'm putting an apostrophe for terms exclusive to the game and will detail them at the end.

I've recently finished FF13, which...wasn't the most enjoyable FF I've played. Although its level design was linear, and the characters can be a little tropey, I had more issues with the lack of party customization that only gets unlocked later on in the game, and the general difficulty as well as its expensive economy, it had some very impressive art direction and music that still holds up to this day! I've jumped on to its sequel to see how it fares.

I'm currently on episode 4, and I've seen some nice improvements so far! The Paradigm Shift* system is a lot faster and responsive, and the game allows you to do Preemptive Strikes* which gives you an advantage with the Stagger Bar*, as well as grant Haste* temporarily which is a nice tactical advantage. Your additional party members now consist of up to 3 monsters you capture and equip, who each have their own paradigm class. Overall this makes the combat very fun and customizable!

The first game also constantly focused on combat. This time, I'm seeing puzzle segments, which are somewhat confusing, and some options to dress up monsters you catch. Not perfect systems, but it's nice to see some downtime. I do find the Mog Throw* funny though.

Levels this time are larger and non-linear, giving more replayability as well as a sense of exploration. This exploration is linked to the main story too, so it doesn't feel too much like a chore. I'd say it's somewhat of an improvement.

The graphics are still the same, but I'm enjoying one area in particular for its futuristic aesthetic, so it still has some nice artistic direction going on. I would say the character designs are a hit or miss compared to the first game. Serah's outfit in XIII-2 seems...odd despite looking more battle-ready. Her gloves and weapon are the only pluses, but it looks like they're more keen on showing more skin for some reason (with her having a swimsuit outfit too apparently). Noel on the other hand has a more appealing design! His head gives me Squall Leonhart vibes but with the hair grown a little.

I also like the characterization more than the first game. Noel is really smart and capable, and even shows a side of impatience so he's not perfect. Serah is also interesting as she journeys from being a girl that couldn't do anything to being a courageous heroine. The duo's dynamics are more pleasing to watch compared to where the first game had a larger cast that was constantly at odds with each other but awkwardly come together at some point.

The story is also easier to follow as there's not a lot of weird terminology anymore that doesn't explain itself. Even though it's about time travel, I haven't seen anything crazy yet.

One detail I really like is that it reminds you of previous events. Every time you get back into the game, it has a ''story so far'' segment that pops up before entering a world to catch you up to speed, and for those that have not played 13, there's a whole summary section available in the menu. This may be annoying for people who have been continuously playing the game (like me) and don't need to be reminded, but there are times where we drop a game because life happens, or another game catches our attention and we wander off to playing that. But having a reminder is a nice touch for a positive experience. Perhaps this feature could have a toggled off option in the settings.

One detail I dislike is the pacing of the extra dialogue that plays in the overworld. The first game paced this well, but this sequel seems to have longer dialogue that could potentially pressure you to stop and listen if you want to hear the extra details, otherwise interacting with anything else risks you from skipping them. Grand Theft Auto also has this issue, when you're driving during a story mission and you cannot hit the destination marker yet because the characters are still talking. The only solution I can see to amending this would be to allow the player to see/hear the next dialogue by pressing a button. NEO: The World Ends With You has (non-voiced) dialogue pop up in the overworld, which you can interact with to see the rest of it while still on the go.

Overall, I'm looking forward to what the rest of the game has in store! The music is as great, if not even better than the first! I have listened to some of the tracks long before getting on this game, but I've heard some new ones that are absolute bangers! 13 made me a fan of Masashi Hamauzu, but 13-2 is now making me a fan of Naoshi Mizuta too! I'm gonna put a link to my current favourite track.

Terms exclusive to the game: Paradigm shift - Strategic set of roles your characters can have which you can switch around during combat. Preemptive strike - Allows you to strike an enemy first to gain an advantage. Similar to Player Advantage/Ambush in the Persona/Shin Megami Tensei games. Stagger bar - A gauge the player fillswhen fighting (best by casting magic) which allows the enemy to be vulernable to more damage Haste - An effect (or spell) common in FF games that makes you act faster Mog Throw - An ability that allows you to throw Mog (Moogle, a creature in FF games) to inaccessible/far places and give you treasure in return

youtube

#game analysis #ff13 2 #final fantasy xiii 2 #Youtube

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ultraericthered · 1 year

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Kingdom Hearts - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 22, 23, 25, 26, 27.

1. Axel/Roxas (ew), Terra/Ven (even worse), and Eraqus/Xehanort (I do get why it *would* be shipped given recent canon but I'm sorry, the bald old fucker straight up cold-bloodedly murdered his BF without one iota of remorse, and I refuse to forget and forgive.) 2. Obviously Sora/Riku (unless there's a polycule with Kairi and others involved), but I also feel this for Roxas/Xion and Riku/Namine. 3. I think I might've back in 2019, when KH3 was new. 4. The pedo ships I mentioned in 1. 5. Kind of with Sora/Riku, but that typical immature yaoi fangirl stuff was actually a MILD turnoff compared to the actual queerbaiting that the actual canon went on to do with them. 7. Virtually EVERYTHING in the KH series I left behind. 9. The Foretellers and Yozora, the harbingers of unsalvagable doom for the franchise. 10. Melody of Memory. Yeah, I didn't think getting worse than Dream Drop Distance was possible, but they fucking went there and it sealed the franchise’s coffin shut. 11. Some of the more secondary Disney characters like Jiminy Cricket and Pete aren't particularly popular in the fandom, but I love them. Also, Ariel and the whole cast of Atlantica (save for maybe King Triton, KH2 did sort of ruin him.) 12. I think I like and appreciate BBS 0.2 more than most, even if Mickey's appearance sent it totally off the rails. 13. Game canon!Xion is like a lump of clay who was molded pretty well in her debut game but is just a total nonentity elsewhere. (Manga!Xion, meanwhile, is a goddess tier force of nature unto herself and so she needs to be the template than any good fanon Xion needs to use and derive from.) 14. The KH faithful are all in an abusive or at least masochistic relationship with Nomura and his work, and I pity them. 15. Shiro Amano is 10 times the writer for KH material than Tomoco Kanemaki, Masaru Oka, and Tetsuya Nomura will ever be, and that is the straight up TRUTH. 16. The entire direction of the franchise following the game we know as Birth By Sleep's release. 17. See above, and even before that point I did whole posts about how I'd change 358/2 Days, fix some lesser points in the original three games (the climax fallout in KH1, Riku’s mode in CoM, the second go-round of worlds in KH2), and further expand Organization XIII's presence in KH2 FM. 19. The canon purists who actually like and accept what been done to the series narrative and insist that it all makes sense when played and looked at chronologically even when no, it does not. 22. Post-3D Riku, Post358/2 Days Roxas, Lea, and the young versions of Eraqus and Xehanort (who aren't even particularly pleasant characters as men to begin with!) 23. Kairi, I guess? I dislike the iteration of her character we have now, but I'd still defend her in KH1 and KH2 from anyone who for whatever reason thinks she was worthless and unlikable even back then. 25. Nooooooo, too easy. It's too easy. 26. Xion, 'cause she'd not feel limited by gender. 27. Luxu. With the direction canon took his character in, he's one where any relationship he could ever had is doomed to not last and he will know only heartbreak and heartache forever.

#Disney #Kingdom Hearts #Salty Ask List #opinion #meme

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ellitx · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3: Song of the Ancients

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to _01ki_

word count: 3k

If someone would ask Venti what happened, he’ll simply give a smile and say it’s nothing. But in this situation, one can feel the uncanny and dangerous aura surrounding him. It’s either they know not to press any further or they’re too naive to understand what’s going on.

It’s unusual for the happy-go-lucky bard to be silent, there’s no doubt about that. His eyes scanned the grass and see if there’s anything out of place there. Something that might be left behind.

In the old ruins of the former city of freedom, there was nothing for his mind to hang onto. There was no familiar sight of you, no sound of your breathing other than the howling of the air. Only the heart beating in his chest stopped him from becoming frozen like Snezhnaya’s landscapes.

When he twirled around to at least see the tracks you have left, there were none. The only way to navigate you was by the sun, birds, and winds.

He bit the inside of his cheek, drawing out blood unwittingly. The taste of iron meeting his tongue brought him out of his mind. He swayed his head and knelt down, feeling the meadow with his fingers.

Calm down, she couldn’t have gone that far.

Right, there’s no need to panic. Maybe you have started wandering the place out of curiosity and see what has changed. He remembered he marked you with Anemo last night, he could try it to track you.

His fingers twirled and called the winds if there would be any signs of your presence nearby. Expecting a response, only silence greeted him.

No gust of the Mondstadt breeze came by to answer him.

He clenched his fists so hard that nails cut into his skin as his brows dug on his front. He called the gales once more and this time he waited a little bit longer. A minute passed, then five minutes and there was still nothing.

In the grip of silent panic, his eyes dilated and his heart began to race. He hoisted himself up from the ground and looked around in sheer distress. Emerald optics meandered everywhere like the wings of a hummingbird.

How could this be? I swear the mark should still remain on her, the effect should last for more than a day.

Venti’s eyes caught the sight of a small orb laying not so far away from where he was standing. He jogged to where the said item was and grabbed it hastily.

It’s the emblem hanging on your dress.

A slight crack can be seen from it. This was his chance if he can see if there would be any anemo marks lingering. He hopes it would. He can’t bring himself to the thought of losing you, let alone letting you wander with dangerous monsters hidden here.

Once again, he used his powers to summon the winds to look for you. Each second that passed by seemed like an hour, and each time they elapsed the more he tightly grips on the insignia.

It didn’t really faze him when the sharp glass cut his skin. What did was the fact there was no response and it reminded him you’re missing. He shouldn’t have left you. He blamed himself for this.

His pulse raced and breathed heavily, almost as if he would burst. He narrowed his eyes at the insignia and threw it to the ground making it shatter into pieces. Not like you would need that anyway, he can just give you an Anemo Vision and he’ll gladly offer it to you if you asked.

It’s better if you hide the identity of being the former Anemo Archon’s daughter. A certain member of the Four Winds will not be so delighted to know about your existence. He opened his palm and silently watched the blood ooze out from his skin, slightly wincing at the stinging sensation.

Venti carelessly wiped it off using his cape and made headway in his search for you. Where could you be in this time and place that are only filled with nothing but ruins? He hardly remembers what this city used to look like before.

Ah, if only you would sing or just talk or anything that’ll allow him to hear your voice, he can definitely find you with ease. His breathing turned shaky and scanned the area if he could see your familiar silhouette.

Not good. [Name], where are you?

Every step he takes, the more the winds are getting colder, sharper, and stronger. Those poor anemo slimes ran away from him in fear, yet some were unfortunate they were struck by the sharp tip of the arrow causing them to burst.

His slender fingers pressed onto the skin of his forearms, nails biting on the layer of fine dust, drawing marks of cuts. How many times had he hurt himself already? He didn’t bother counting it, what matters is finding you as soon as possible.

And lo and behold, they’ve finally heard his urgent calls and wishes of you. He can hear your voice from a distance that is filled with melodious tunes. He searched for where the source of your singing might be coming from.

His eyes brightened up and now he was brimming with hope. It was hypnotizing, almost like he was enamored by your angelic song. He continued to run and run until it was getting louder and louder.

The edges of his lips tugged upwards so widely and he knew he was getting closer. Your voice was smooth and clear and quiet yet powerful. Soothing, in a way. Just the way he loves it. It was the promise of tomorrow, a new hope. It’s so beautiful, he wished that you wouldn’t stop.

He pumped his legs, gaining momentum with each push. At last, he finally found you with your back facing him, but his smile faltered when he saw your hand was caressing the snout of his dear dragon friend.

Turbulence and skepticism were written all over his face.

“Dvalin…?” Since when did he arrive here? He could’ve known he’s back if he saw him flying from the sky, yet why is he not aware of this unannounced sojourn? Your calm and gentle song was put to an end when you made clear of his familiar voice. You turned your head and faced the bard in wonderment.

“Oh, Venti. I didn’t see you there.” You put down your hand and watched him approach the dragon. He petted Dvalin and lightly asked, “When did you come?” He can feel the dragon’s breathing and so he backed away and stood next to you.

“Not too long ago,” Your eyes widened in surprise seeing a dragon talk right in front of you. It was really astonishing for you how you’ve missed so many things in the past years. Your shoulders tensed when his blue flamed eyes were cast towards you.

“Her song… is she the one you’ve always been waiting for?” Venti’s entire body jerked to a standstill unexpectedly. He closed his eyes and smiled as he pulled you close to him.

“Yes. You’ve been wanting to see her as well, right?” You can sense his grip on your waist was put under a little pressure. Observing his hand, you saw how bloody it was that it already stained your white dress.

“Well anyway, it’s good to see you again— huh?” The bard arched his brow when you took his hand and looked at it. “What happened to you? Your hand… it has so many gashes.”

Carefully handling his wounded palm, you looked around the area if you could find any familiar leaves and flowers that could cure and prevent it from infecting any further. Venti’s posture relaxed, softened, marveling at your heedfulness and concern that is only for him.

Maybe this could be a good opportunity for him to get close to you. You always worry about him and treat him every time he’s injured. Normal thoughts barely formed in his mind before they were replaced with the melancholy longing and fantasies of what could be if he were only brave enough to tell you.

The sunshine had no meaning for him unless he could be with you. He daydreamed about every feature of your face, he recalled every way he had never seen you tied your hair and just let it flow freely. He had logged all of your quirky mannerisms to his brain.

Some call it bewitched; Venti calls it love. For there is an emptiness in the freedom of being alone and liberty in being caught by your divine spell. And so when he sees in your eyes the feelings of his heart, it’s like you’ve been connected with him as one.

And if it isn’t some kind of magic you cast on him, then he can’t say what it is.

He leaned forward and nuzzled between your shoulder and neck, whining your name. You yelped in surprise when he lightly bit your skin and sent you featherlight kisses on it.

A slow smile crept up to his face when you square your shoulders in coyness. “Maybe kissing it would heal me?” His breathing tickled your ear as he whispered so closely with a hint of sensuality, almost like it was only for you to be heard.

You puffed your cheeks at his words and slapped his back only for you to earn a chuckle. “I’m being serious,” you groaned. Venti crooned and buried his face deeply, swaying your bodies together.

His gaze faltered to Dvalin who silently watched both of you indifferently. “No need to fret, love. I can simply heal these away in no time.” It was his first time calling you such sweet names. Though, he does hope you wouldn’t mind if he continues giving you more lovely epithets just to see your reaction.

Seeing you fidgety and flustered really made him want to keep you all for himself and attack you with his love; yearning, longing, and adoration. He wanted to show these to you and he knows— he knows very well you also felt the same for him.

The dragon was quiet, that he noticed. The way he looked at both of them made Venti feel uneasy for some reason. “Barbat—“

“Oh! Were you perhaps yearning for her song as well, Dvalin?” The bard immediately queried the wyvern with a smile, however, it sunk and was replaced with an apologetic demeanor. “Maybe [Name] could entertain you later? She’s not yet accustomed here.”

“I’ll show her around first.” His other hand went down to your back and dragged you as he led onwards. Bewilderment was written all over your face when Venti started drawing you away from the blue creature. “Huh? Venti, what about—“

“My hand? No worries, I know a place where we can treat it.” You looked back to the dragon and dubiously allowed him to lead you. It caused your heart to twinge in guilt departing from the dragon friend you have recently been familiar with will be left all alone here.

You watched your feet take steps across the grassy land, your bare feet next to the shined leather shoes of the bard. Venti lightly swayed your arms back and forth together with his legs carrying him quickly to their final destination whilst he hums a tune.

Your stroll ended and you were in front of a pristine lake. A wave of nostalgia washed over you seeing the familiar lagoon. “It brings back memories, right?” Venti started and neared the body of water along with you.

You nodded in affirmation, quite speechless and surprise this was the only area left unscathed. You knelt down on both knees and draped your hand over the liquid, rippling from the slightest of your touch.

It shone like millions of diamonds when each ray of the sun hit the surface. You’ve spotted there were no signs of fish or goose swimming around. It was quite odd though you just brush it off and ignore it.

Venti sat next to you and obliged when you motioned for him to wash his bloodied hand. The water is cold, nothing he can do about that. You took his injured palm while your other hand cupped the water and wash it over to remove the bloodstains.

Drips of red fell down and slowly died out once the pure and clear lake dissolved it. Before you could tear a portion of your dress, he had already stopped you from doing it by grabbing your wrist.

“This should be good enough.” You pressed your lips to a thin line, his words not really assuring your worries. He laughed at your adorable face and squeezed your cheeks playfully. Heaving a sigh in defeat, you leaned against him and propped your head on his shoulder.

You keep an eye on his hand carefully and observe a teal mist surrounding it. The scars started to close up and his skin was clean from stains and wounds as if his palm wasn’t even injured in the first place.

You clasped it with yours and let the tip of your fingers graze over like a fragile diamond. “Can you still kiss it for me?” Venti asked innocently and peered at you pleadingly.

You hummed in thought then smiled, continuing to draw figures around it before entwining your fingers together closely. Venti puckered his lips and whined when you didn’t respond.

Were you teasing him? It made him nervous yet excited at the same time. You notice how his throat bobbed so obviously like he was struggling to gulp down. You were pushing his buttons when your fingers trailed over his arm. He’s captivated by your charms once more and oh how he loves your approach.

You held up his hand close to your lips and gave it a light peck. “There.” You beamed, smiling sweetly at him. You saw the shock registered on Venti’s face before he could hide it. A small smile played on your lips.

It wasn’t what you said though, your words were like vanilla pudding, sweet in their ordinary sort of way, it was the richness of your tone— luxurious and warm. Aside from that, your kiss surprised him the most. He didn’t get that a lot and receiving it from you was like a blessing.

He wriggled himself from you and laid his head on your lap, searching for a comfortable spot until he relaxed against you. And just as he expected, you removed the hair tie from his braided hair and ran a hand through his hair. It’s amazing how you still remember and know what he wants.

Your voice softly echoed in the vast land, singing the previous song he heard before. So sweet, so angelic. His eyelids started to droop, letting himself get lost in your melodic tunes and drift off to wonderland.

—

The lyrics swam through his cerebral cortex like a wakeful dream, the voice relaxing him, enabling the song to call to his entire being. Your singing could never be something superfluous to him, it is medicine delivered in the most divine way.

Before he was awake, a hum saunters in his dream. The gentle tones of you. The humming began to fade until his mind figured out the melody. He had heard so many ballads and sang them before yet this is something he has never encountered in his life.

His eyes gently opened, and there you are wearing your usual sweet smiles. His lips tugged at the sight of your delicate features and caressed your cheek tenderly.

“Your voice... It’s so beautiful. I can listen to it all day.”

There's a kind of blushing that shows the soul, a sort of compliment to the eyes and the delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, that the smile and shyness come from some deep emotion... and that's a beautiful thing, that's something real.

“I’ve never heard of that song before. Did you compose it yourself?” Your friend asked as he enjoys himself laying on your lap as a pillow. “Not really. My mother always sings this to me.” You answered and resumed playing with his dark hair.

The sound of bell chiming made your head turn to look down at the small wisp wiggling against you. “Oh, did I wake you up?” You questioned while patting its small head.

It shook its head and cuddled on your soft hands letting out a happy ring. “Seems like he loves your song as well.” The bard remarked and lifted himself, stretching his arms to relieve the cramps.

The wind wisp settled himself on your shoulder and twirled joyfully. “I can’t fully comprehend what the lyrics are though. It’s almost…gibberish b-but beautiful nonetheless!” The young male quickly remarked, not wanting to offend you and your song.

You played with the little creature before turning to him. “Ah that. It’s because it’s a forgotten language.” All in all, you weren’t really insulted by his words, rather it amused you.

Not many people know about the ancient and forgotten language, and you yourself don’t even know what the lyrics mean. The words are stuck inside your head like a broken gramophone together with the tune.

“I really like it. It sounds so enchanting especially with your voice.” He commented and grinned at you. A small blush formed on your cheeks and averted your gaze away from him.

Your cheeks are as round as your face. They’re always rosy as if you’re shy all the time, which isn’t a lie at all. There has been only one time when he’d actually seen you ashamed. Not only your cheeks, but he can see clearly the tips of your ears burning red.

He hadn’t known you feel more than you express, until then, when you turn to hide in the most gentle way. What happens next he's going to want to remember for a long time, so while his gaze is soft he doesn't drop his eyes for a moment.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fanfictions #genshin impact venti x reader #genshin impact venti #venti #genshin impact reader insert #yandere #tw yandere #elliwrites #Illusory Sense #yandere genshin #venti genshin impact

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding XIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XI - - - - Part XII - - - - Part XIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Plo Koon woke to find himself chained in a dark room.

Somewhere behind him he could hear steady dripping; it was uncertain if that was deliberate or not.

He strained to discern anything in the dim light, but the walls of his prison refused to form into anything recognizable.

Cautiously, the trapped Master cast his senses out, only to find them reflected back at odd angles. He decided to wait before attempting to push any further past what his captor wished him to see.

Time passed strangely, but sooner than expected there was the sound of a pressurized airlock opening and, distantly, a raging ocean.

The airlock cycled through its rotation and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out of the amorphous shadows looking...decidedly worse for the wear.

Plo ached at the sight. His normally carefully maintained beard was a scraggly mess. His robes hung tattered and bloodied. Of particular concern was how dry he looked, skin cracked and bleeding for want of water. The figure standing before him with a dead-eyed glare resembled less an accomplished Jedi Master and more the wretched husk of one.

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan's shade hissed. The chains around the Kel Dooran tightened.

Well, however he might view himself and others...at least he’s willing to fight to defend what remains? At the bare minimum he’s not acting intentionally self destructive...

“Good Morning, Obi-Wan. I am a Jedi Master and your friend. I have been attempting to reach you through your rather impressive shielding. I must say, you’ve done a remarkable job confining me in this mental construct, its been sometime since anyone has managed to get the best of me in this arena.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Don’t try and flatter me, you barely fought back. You could easily have forced your way anywhere, but for some reason you let me corral you, presumably to try and gain my trust. Now answer my question. Your presence is very much light so I doubt you’re Sidious or...Vader. I could be wrong obviously, but i can’t see either of themselves putting this much effort into that sort of mask...just tell me who you are, and why you’re with them.”

“I am Master Plo Koon, a High Council Member, and I am not unknown to you” he elaborated without hesitation. “I am glad that you can identify that I am a light force user. Can you not sense familiarity within my force presence, even so far within your domain?”

Obi-Wan reared back and the dripping noise in the corner stopped.

“It’s a trick. We might be in my head but that doesn’t mean I’m surrendering any of my thoughts to you,” Obi-Wan snarled. “I felt Plo Koon’s death, he was one of the first...and even if he somehow survived he would never work with the Sith to invade my mind. Never.”

“Obi-Wan. Listen to me. Please. I am not dead. I am not working with the Sith. I was brought in to reach you because no other method was working. You are in the healing halls at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.” Plo spoke calmly, but implacably, “We believe you have either experienced a uniquely detailed vision, or a run in with a dark-sider. Whatever has happened, I can feel the lingering impression of unsafety. But here and now, you are not in any immediate physical danger. There must be something I can do to convince you of your present physical location.”

“A uniquely detailed vision, huh? ha!” Obi-Wan replied, gesturing wildly. “Ha! You expect me to believe that what, the last four years of my life were a detailed prophecy? Why?”

“You...believe you have lived years beyond the rest of us. I take it the- what you remember has been dangerous enough to warrant maintaining abnormally tight control over your mental walls, precluding simply reaching out to ascertain the truth yourself.”

“Clearly my control wasn’t enough if you’re in here.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I do apologize for the intrusion, but we’ve already used every other tool at our disposal to reach you. I repeat, is there anything that can be done to convince you that you are, from your perspective, ‘in the past’. You are a High Council member with a grandpadawan. It’s been two years since the start of the clone wars. You recently finished an extended clean up of the Mon Cala sector after your victory.”

Obi-Wan stared at him curiously. “If I set a test and you fail, will you agree to dispense with the pretenses?”

Plo-Koon hesitated. “Perhaps I’m making this deal in bad faith, as I am know I am Plo-Koon, and that everything I have said is the truth... but I swear that if you somehow prove that neither of those things are true and I am secretly working for a sith lord, I will...reveal that.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Best I’m going to get, I suppose.”

The chains holding Plo-Koon loosened. Before he could respond, there was a hurtling rising sensation that he struggled not to fight against. After a disorienting moment, he found himself in his own body, feeling vaguely seasick. Obi-Wan blinked awake, apparently unfazed by the precautionary bonds holding him in place. Master Aerdo’s gaze flicked between them intensely. Plo-Koon held up a clawed hand to forestall any interruption while the two gained their bearings.

Obi-Wan spoke first:

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation”

“...What?” Koon replied, honestly confused.

“Cihynglo was a renowned Kashykian Jedi, her mediations are, well i suppose were considered a quintessential example of High Republic cosmic poetry.”

“I’m familiar with Cihynglo- my master used to speak of her fondly.” Plo Koon said slowly. “Though I can’t say I’m familiar with her Fourth Mediation.”

“Hmm. Yes, well her poetry in the last few decades of her life got increasingly, well, esoteric. While most of her work was widely translated and distributed, she requested that those who wished to read her fourth Meditations do so in person, so as to experience without dilution the full calligraphy and artwork that accompanied her words. She only ever produced two copies. Any guesses where they were kept?”

Obi-Wan’s voice started out in the steady tones of a born lecturer, only to grow bitter towards the end.

“Is one in the temple?” Master Koon asked.

“Yes, one was held in the Master’s wing of the temple archives. The other was housed in a place of honor in The White Forest’s Great Tree of Knowledge. Considering both libraries were reduced to ash in the first month of the Empire, it is quite impossible, even for the Emperor, to find a copy.”

His vague attempt at a smirk quickly fell flat.

“I was privileged enough to be granted time to begin reading it once, but, alas, an emergency situation in the intergalactic war you created meant that I had to run off mid-sonnet. Bring me that book, let me hold it, read it, and I will believe that I somehow unlocked the secret of time-travel while overdosing on Spice.”

Obi-Wan paused, catching his breath. “In the next fifteen minutes, please. Any more than that and you might try tracking down the few surviving Wookie scholars.” Koon flipped open his comm. “Master Nu, I have an urgent request.”

“Nu here, go on,” came the response.

“This may sound strange, but it is crucial that Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation be brought to the healing halls, room seven. Within the next 15 minutes.”

“You do understand you’re talking about a physical book, not a flimsi-stack or a holocron. It’s not meant to leave a climate-controlled room.”

“I promise you, I would not ask if it weren’t life or death. Please Jocasta, I’ll explain later.”

“I’ll be there in 10. It had better be one durned good explanation.”

Obi-Wan looked bemused. ”You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“I am glad you were able to come up with a test you found meaningful. Remember, you have friends here, regardless of whether you experienced subjective time travel or an incredibly detailed vision.”

They waited a little longer. Obi-Wan critically examined Master Aerdo.

“I’m a Senior Soul Healer” they offered at the non-verbal prompting.

“How interesting.” Obi-Wan remarked dryly.

They sat in awkward silence for another minute.

They were all equally trained in suppressing fidgets, coughs, or other nervous tics, which made the wait that slightest bit more unbearable, each second nearly imperceptible from the one before.

Eventually the sound of heavy boots moving at speed approached.

Master Nu strode in, gently cradling a great burden. The book gleamed large and vital in the light of its stasis wrap. Her eyes widened at they took in Obi-Wan, still cuffed to the bed.

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation, as asked for. I trust you have an excellent explanation for how a book of poetry is a matter of life or death.”

“I’m hoping that it will convince our friend Master Kenobi that I am who I claim to be and we are where I claim we are.” Koon gently pulled the book from her grasp and reverently placed it on Obi-Wan’s lap. Obi-Wan stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Obi-Wan, I’m going to uncuff you now. I trust that you will use your freedom to examine our ‘proof.’ We will physically intercede if you make any attempts at self harm.”

Master Nu gasped. “Then the temple rumors...I don’t understand.”

Obi Wan picked up the book as if he was afraid it might bite him. With an irritated snort, he opened brusquely to the middle, and began carelessly flipping ahead.

Master Nu started forward, offended, but Plo Koon held her back. “Please Master Nu, patience-”

Finally Obi-Wan seemed to reach the page he was looking for and stopped. “..And still the rain fell like blood of the womb” he murmured. “That...I tried to think of how the line ended but I...”

Everyone watched as the book shook in Obi-Wan's grasp. He turned the page, gasping slightly and murmuring as he read. “This is...a little gross, but oddly touching. I certainly would not have come up with it myself...but its so clearly...” They watched his react, eyes darting wildly and brow furrowing in confusion.

Several pages later he dropped the book abruptly.

“This is impossible,” he gasped.

Nu darted forward, carefully snatching it from his lap, "I am endeavoring to practice tolerance, but how is destroying an irreplaceable piece of literature supposed to help anyone?!” she snapped

“I admit I wondered that myself, but when I imagined what harm the Sith could do with some of the archive’s more practical works, I understood your decision to torch the collection” Obi-Wan responded dreamily. “I suppose the more beautific works would likely have been destroyed anyway...”

“Torch the archives? I would never.”

“But you did,” Obi-Wan insisted feverishly. “I found your message when we searching for survivors. There were so many bodies piled at the archive door that I was almost hopeful that they had managed to...but I suppose they held out just long enough for you to complete your task.”

Nu backed away slowly. “That sounds like quite the disturbing vision, Master Kenobi.”

“It wasn’t just a vision, it was my life. It-visions don’t last years!” he said, finally growing hysterical. “I remember everything! That gods-awful mission to Cato Nemodia! Getting takeout food with Anakin! The smell of burning flesh in the creche! Singing to Luke! The last year of the war! All of you! You crying after Dooku’s death,” he added gesturing wildly at the archivist. “It was so awkward! You were embarrassed! You told me that for some stupid reason you had ‘held out hope’ it was all an insane uncover mission, that he wasn’t really- Three years alone in the desert! I remember three years of living on fucking Tatooine, how could that possibly be a vision!”

“I...hadn’t told anyone that,” Nu whispered with a hint of alarm. She glanced at Plo Koon, daring him to comment. “I know its very much unlikely at this point, and by any measure, he’s taken things too far, but he’s gone on such long shadow missions in the past...” she looked away.

“Oh, Jocasta...” Plo sighed.

“Master Kenobi. I cannot explain how you came to have such detailed knowledge of the future,” Aerdo said, drawing focus back to the bewildered Obi-Wan, who had shifted into a defensive crouch on the bed. “But I do know one reasonably sure fire way to establish that this, us, is the present. Open yourself up to the force, please, just let yourself listen to what it has to say.

“I...want to, of course I want to believe- but the idea that I’m here- it’s, if you’re real than you can’t possibly understand, its too good to be true.” Obi-Wan responded brokenly.

“I know things have been clouded of late, but, if nothing else trust in the force to not lie to you.” Plo-Koon urged. “If you keep closing yourself off like this, how can you possibly learn if things are better than you think”

Obi-Wan collapsed from his crouch, knees folding underneath.

“If I am...even if I am in the past... Sideous might be watching...i didn’t- i don’t know the extent of his gaze- even if...” he trailed off.

“If it makes you feel safer, you are of course free to again raise your shields to whatever extent you feel necessary once you have verified your reality.” Aerdo replied smoothly.

Obi-Wan looked warily at the three Jedi in the room.“I...” he started, trying to articulate the swelling hope and fear only to find himself at a loss for words.

Aerdo shot him a reassuring smile, “If you don’t feel ready right now, that’s perfectly understandable. We’re very happy you’re willing to reach out as much as you have already. Would you like to pause this discussion for now so we can find you something to eat? I believe a simple broth is a customary first post-bacta meal, but if you have any special requests I’ll do what I can.”

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath, dropping his head into his hands. “I- I need to know, don’t I?” he mumbled. “Force help me...you win.” He took one last, searching look at the faces of his fellow Jedi before closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the force.

He opened a small hole in his mental barricades and tentatively allowed his thoughts to drip out. Tentatively, he trickled over the bank of Plo Koon’s being (expecting a frigid burn) only to find a warm and heartbreakingly familiar pool of tempered kindness.

He ran, slightly faster now, over the other Jedi presences in the room. Having finished his course without encountering any dark undertow, he ebbed back. There was an indistinct impression of something heavy giving way.

Obi-Wan’s Shields Fell Like A Dam Beneath a Tidal Wave -

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #time travel #starwars #star wars fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #fix-it

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nobodies-png · 3 years

Note

Okay. So this is like, the funniest prompt that I found, wrote a bit for, and forgot about. I wrote it for a different fandom, and then thought "Organization XIII would be funny for this..." Org. XIII is turned into children and now the Reader has to (make sure they don't die) take care of them. Ages like... 4-9 because that's when children are the funniest. Do what you will with it

ngl im a sucker for old cliche prompts like these, every fandom has at least an au for this specific setting or some kindergarden au lolol

anyway here’s some HCs as to how they’d act and stuff !

Xemnas :

One of the oldest kids, but you don’t really know what to make of him. You were expecting Xemnas to still lead the rest, scare them into submission with a simple glare or something - turns out he’s rather timid. Barely speaks, you get the feeling he’s ignoring you on purpose, just makes a lot of faces and noises to indicate what he’s feeling.

Somewhat clingy too, but unlike Demyx and Xigbar who want to get your attention through any means possible, Xemnas just grabs onto the hem of your shirt and follows you everywhere in silence. Doesn’t cause much trouble, but he doesn’t help you keep the others in check either, a true neutral I guess.

Sometimes, he will just disappear and show up whenever you least expect him. Loves to climb and sit on tall places. Spaces out a lot. Compared to the rest, you can probably leave him to his own devices, as long as he’s not left alone with Xigbar or Larxene.

Xigbar :

Actually the oldest, but pretty annoying and high maintenance. If he got on your nerves as his regular self, then you’re in for a fucking ride - this Xigbar is here to cause problems on purpose. He likes to talk, a lot. And it’s sucks because it’s usually endless and mindless chatter or pointing out everything that he sees.

If he starts to get bored, he’ll scurry off to bother someone else, but it usually ends with someone crying or hurt. Don’t even bother keeping him on a leash, the bastard is too smart to be contained.

Xigbar is one of those kids that can be extremely useful if you get him on your side, as he has no problem snitching and ratting out the others. The best way to keep him from losing his other eye or gouging out someone else’s is to bribe or trick him into helping you (just know that he can also be bribed by the other kids, Xigbar WILL betray you).

Xaldin :

You expected Zexion to be the loner type, but turns out it’s Xaldin - he’ll always be on his own or avoiding the others, usually around the kitchen since you’ve banned everyone from going in there until they return to normal (not that they listen to you, but oh well).

Xaldin is pretty much like those kids who hate being treated like kids and who pretend to be above the rest. While he might seem calm, it’s really easy to get him riled up, a simple “I bet you can’t do this or that” and he’s off to prove himself.

Oddly enough, he gets jealous easily - if you give Roxas a cookie or whatever for behaving, then you GOTTA give Xaldin one too or else he’ll throw a fit. The best thing you can do with him is be honest and confess that you need him to chill the fuck out and Not Die :tm: while you take care of the others, he’ll feel all grown up because you told him the truth and will calmly stay in his room.

Vexen :

One of the oldest kids, the stereotypical kid who only has ONE interest and won’t shut the fuck up about it, which is cute but not everyone has the patience to sit through a 6 hour talk about dinosaurs. You never expected this baby Vexen to be so into dinosaurs out of all things. Of course, just because he only talks about them, doesn’t mean he’s not curious about all that shiny lab equipment.

You can’t keep him distracted with dinosaur books all day, he still has the heart and mind of a scientist ! Because he’s a very obvious nerd, he’s the target for a lot of members in the organization, namely Larxene - and when Vexen gets flustered or frustrated, he freezes up. Literally. He WILL freeze the entire room too.

Your best bet is to pair him up with Zexion or Xion, since they’ll gladly sit down to listen and learn. The three will gladly stay locked up in the library learning and reading. You just gotta hope Vexen doesn’t instantly crush Zexion and Xion’s dreams by ruining their fairytales with facts and logic.

Lexaeus :

Also one of the older kids and the tallest too. This Lexaeus is just as stoic and intimidating as the original, but apparently he’s also very sensitive. Everytime he speaks to you it sounds like he might be about to cry. But he looks fine ? So you really don’t know what to do about him.

Either way, Lexaeus is also very helpful and responsible, so you can trust him to watch over the rowdy kids and keep them relatively safe, just try not to pair him with the suuuper loud ones.

Probably the type to take the blame and responsibility for any pranks gone wrong under his watch, even if you fully know there’s no way he’s responsible. Lexaeus is the epitome of “I just want everyone to get along”. Somehow, he’s very gentle with the others (as gentle as one can be when straight up dragging Xigbar out of the ventilation system) but he’ll break any toys and other items given to him.

Zexion :

Zexion is very very small, so you can probably understand the stress he’s going through, surrounded by these animals. Like Xemnas and Demyx, he’d be pretty clingy but he wouldn’t be able to follow you around or cling to you with all the others pushing and fighting around.

So you can either just carry him on your shoulders or leave him with Lexaeus or Vexen as mentioned before. If not, Zexion will wander and either fall asleep in the Grey Area or find the library on his own.

Not a problematic child, really. Zexion lacks the energy and the feralness to join any shenanigans - he's also smart enough to know that he’ll be better off listening to you and staying clear out of safety hazards. Though there’s always the chance of other members taking advantage of Zexion’s naive and curious nature.

Saix :

You were expecting him to be a tiny version of his regular self, bitter and strict. Surprisingly, he’s way more fun as a kid, glued to Axel by the hip too. They’re the duo you should look out for - Axel is the one who gets them in trouble and Saix is the one who makes sure you never notice they were behind it all.

The one with a TERRIBLE temper right after waking up. Saix won’t hesitate to bite and claw anyone who tries to wake him up, even Axel knows better than to try. If it’s nap time, let him go, don’t even try to stop him. Don’t let anyone else near him.

Other than that ? A very nice kid in general, he feels a sense of responsibility when it comes to the younger members, so he’ll be the one to keep Axel in check whenever Zexion, Roxas or Xion are around. As for the older ones ? They’re on their own.

Axel :

Axel is the first one to say “fuck” and it spreads like wildfire. So if you start hearing a bunch of kids swear at the top of their lungs, you know who caused it. You’ll also know because you’ll find him laughing and wheezing on the ground.

Somewhat naive, if you tell him he can’t say “invertebrae” because it’s a swear world, he’ll believe you. But SURPRISINGLY he’s very aware of how dangerous his fire powers are - like, Axel wants to cause trouble on purpose, but he doesn’t really want anything to escalate and get anyone actually hurt. Unless it’s Vexen. If it’s Vexen, then it’s fine by him.

You might hear “Y/N, LOOK” before seeing Axel in the kitchen casting fucking Firaga on a bag of Totinos or something. He and Demyx somehow keep getting targeted by the Dusks, who love to play pranks on them.

Demyx :

Most likely to eat food off the ground, or anything shiny and colorful, really. He has the exact same vibes as the little brother who likes to follow people he thinks are cool to try and impress them, just to be considered a cool kid too.

Demyx is very clingy but also a sneaky kid, he can easily cry his heart out so you’ll pay attention and protect him from people he’s pissed off. This is literally why most of the kids don’t like to be around him, cause he’s THAT kid who will ruin everyone’s funs by calling the responsible adult if he gets upset.

Instead of being musically inclined, Demyx just makes a lot of noise - constant loud humming, blowing raspberries, stomping his feet or tapping/hitting things, repeating funny noises or phrases he picks up. Probably has an old ass iPod or an MP3 you can distract him with.

Luxord :

DO YOU KNOW THOSE LITTLE KIDS WHO ARE SMARTASSES ? The ones who act like they know the mysteries of the world and give you a look of superiority because you clearly don’t know what tubby custard really is ? Yeah, that’s Luxord.

Full of fun facts that he LOVES to brag about, but most of them are fake and he’s none the wiser. You cannot correct him either because it’ll be like telling an 8 year old that Santa isn’t real. Thankfully, you don’t HAVE to correct him because that’s what Xaldin is for.

Most likely to steal Xigbar’s eyepatch for himself and somehow convince everyone else that it was HIS eyepatch in the first place. How ? We don’t know, we just don’t know. Also Luxord might just steal little trinkets from everyone and stash them under his bed like the little creacher he is. If you can’t find your keys, you know who’s got em.

Marluxia :

A natural big brother figure. Very understanding too, even if you’ve heard from Larxene that he’s tired of everyone pulling his hair and that he might shave it all off just so they all stop. Yeah, there’s some lingering resentment in there. He’s 50/50 on being a little bastard and an angel.

Marluxia volunteers to help you take care of the other kids, mostly because he likes bossing others around and because he also likes reading books to Zexion and Xion so they fall asleep.

LOVES to leave trails of petals and flowers wherever he goes, but REFUSES to clean up. Always seen with Larxene - Marluxia is also lowkey competitive so he sees the Axel + Saix duo as rivals. In what, exactly ? Who knows. VERY picky with food too. Actually, just very picky and petty in general.

Larxene :

The one kid who develops a personal vendetta against you from day 1. Larxene DESPISES being told what to do, so if you’re constantly telling her not to do this, to do that and whatever, she will make your life a living hell and do the opposite out of spite.

You didn’t hear this from me, but Larxene is GENUINELY upset that she keeps accidentally zapping people whenever she plays with them. It’s really hard for her to apologize too, so you’ll have to step in a lot to de-escalate the situation.

Larxene sticks forks in outlets JUST to scare others, since she cannot get hurt at all by electricity. She just seems to enjoy making others afraid.

Roxas :

One of the youngest, Roxas doesn’t KNOW what “using your indoor voice” means, he’s either DEAD quiet or SCREAMING about how he’d like to have ice cream as a treat, please and thank you. It’s really fucking funny to see honestly. Just make sure he doesn’t sneak up on you and scare you shitless.

The type who gets dragged into shenanigans rather than cause them - he’s a very neutral and calm kid otherwise. The worst thing he can do is just steal everyone’s dessert or something because of that intense sweet tooth he’s got.

A lot of the older kids LOVE trying to get him and Xion to laugh, because Roxas has this permanent poker face AND because they both have really funny snort giggle laughs.

Xion :

Also one of the youngest, very sweet, patient and polite ! Xion also tends to be very clingy, always needing to hold hands with someone whenever she walks around Castle Oblivion. No one has the heart to tell her no, either.

Can get VERY VERY irritating and angry when someone tries to make fun of her or Roxas. Like a little hurricane of puppies - Xion won’t stop pestering all the meanies until she’s received a proper apology. If she somehow ends up hurting someone, she’ll insist on making up too.

Xion also tends to copy people she likes, similar to Demyx. You might catch her imitating your movements or way of speaking, or even copying the Dusks’ movements - but just make sure she doesn’t see you, Xion will explode out of embarrassment.

#KH headcanons #reader insert #organization xiii #xemnas #xigbar #xaldin #vexen #lexaeus #zexion #saix #axel #demyx #luxord #marluxia #larxene #roxas #xion #writing for xemnas and xigbar hurts a lot more now that KHUX is over

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

By the king’s hand 🐍 XIII

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence, trauma, allusions to torture, mentions of suicide.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You struggle with the past, present, and future.

Note: So now that the holiday rush is over and my province is in lockdown, I can write so yay? But also, stress anew hahaha. Anyways, I’m enjoying it so it’s not too bad. :D

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your stomach curdled as you walked between the guards. For whatever foolish reason, you’d assumed Loki would accompany you. And even more foolish, you were disappointed when he did not. He was king and had much more pressing matters; his usual excuse. As true as it was, you were still irked by your task.

Your thick winter wool had been replaced by your former satin. The gown was not so sultry as before but it offered little protection against the chill of the palace corridors. You were allowed a cape woven in the king’s green, though the hood was to be kept up until you reached your destination. As before, you were the royal shame.

The further you descended, the more your nerves stormed. You remembered your first journey to the dungeons; the night felt long ago. Like many of your memories, it had faded since your time with the prince and his heartless accomplice. It was fragments but still sent a shiver through you. You could, at least, recall, the fear, the anger, the helplessness of your time in the capital.

Your slippers whispered over the stone floor as the gaoler showed you past the cell doors. The stink of unwashed bodies mingled with that of stale blood. There were coughs, some murmuring, and the occasional maddened shout from down the row. The cell you’d been left to was empty and open as you strode by and you refused to look within. It was at the next, that you were stopped and the thick key was shoved in the slot.

You touched your stomach, a thoughtless habit forming as each day saw you a little rounder. Your middle could still be hidden beneath loose fabric. Birger said not yet halfway through your time; maybe for months and with over a month of deprivation, you weren’t so big as you could be.

The door opened and the shriek of the hinges made you tremor. One prison to the next. You were no different than those locked behind these doors. You were kept and controlled. You had no voice, no will, no wants. You only did what was needed to survive.

One of the guards entered first as the gaoler stood with arms crossed beside the door. You heard a scramble within and you were ushered through by the other armored man. He grabbed a stool from against the far wall before he followed. You pushed your hood down and closed the cloak around your body as the frigid air nipped at your gown.

Gilla was dragged away from the wall where she huddled. She didn’t struggle as the guard brought her to sit at the center of the cell and the other planted the stool behind you. You sat and your hand dropped away from your stomach. Her hair was dirty and her face smeared with tears and grime. She was terrified and sniffled quietly as she blinked away the fog of her imprisonment. Your name on her brittle lips made your heart knot.

You recalled what Loki said and cleared your throat. This girl was not your friend.

“Gilla,” you said flatly.

“Have you come to save me?” She clutched her hands. “They found you! Oh, I’m so happy you’re safe--”

“And do you know who took me away?” You challenged. She shook her head in confusion. “So the man you sold yourself to never mentioned me. You never spoke in those times he came to you? Were you so easy to roll over to him?”

“The prince? Oh, if you send for him, surely he can get me out--”

“Do you have no idea why you’re here?” You sneered, “Even if the prince could, do you think he would save a peasant?”

“The king… the king took you from the dungeons…” she batted her lashes.

“He did and what did he make of me but a prisoner elsewhere,” you looked away from her.

“I don’t… understand,” she lowered her chin. “I don’t know why they’ve brought me here.”

“Well, you best think on it and figure it out. The prince cannot help you for he is a criminal himself.” You looked down at her. How had that little girl you’d grown up with become this? How had you come to this point? “He plotted against the king, surely you must’ve known.”

“How could I?” She babbled as her tears began to fall. “He never spoke to me of such things. He only wanted… love.”

“Love?” You scoffed and stopped yourself from laughing at her naivety. “Do you truly believe these noble men could feel anything for us but the basest desires? That their favour is little more than fodder for their egos? That they delight in our degradation rather than our pleasure?”

“Thor was always kind--”

“Thor used you.” You insisted. A lump rose in your throat. “As he did me. He… as he gave you jewels you have no use for, he got his use off me. He would have worn me until I was dead.” You inhaled and quelled the flurry of emotion inside. “But you never truly cared for more than your own self, eh?”

“What? I… we’re friends.”

“Are we?” You bit down. “I remember my time down here.” You looked around. “I remember how I was even dumber than you. To have begged the king to spare me. You left me behind that night and I was locked up like some animal. Whipped like some braying donkey.” Your mouth was bitter as you spoke, “Bred like a mutt. And when you saw me, still alive, what could think of but the silks and the gold and the crown?”

“I didn’t--”

“You must’ve been so worried for me to have fallen into the prince’s arm’s so easily,” You snorted.

“We all thought you’d run.” She squeaked.

“Oh? Yes then, I suppose it was easy to forget about me.”

“I never did. I…”

“This is the last favour you will have from me, Gilla.” You declared. “And I pray you are smart enough to accept it.”

She blinked, confused, and quivered as she stared back at you.

“Do not lean on your ignorance. The prince is a traitor and you laid with him. Who would believe that in all your time together, he never mentioned his intent against his brother?”

“He didn’t--”

“Listen to me.” You hissed. “The prince will be brought to trial for his crimes, but a whore like you can be cast away and forgotten by all. If you did abet him in his offenses, you will be dealt a cold steely justice. You will not be afforded the same hearing or the same grace as his highness. You are just another commoner fed to the jaws of the rich and their squabbles.”

“But I don’t know anything.”

“Think. Hard.” You stood as you snarled, “And perhaps by the time the inquisitors come to you, you will recall.”

“But--But I--”

“If it had been you that night, I wouldn’t have left you behind. Even if it was your stupidity which led us to trespass. I would have stuck by you.” Your chest tightened as you spoke, “I wouldn’t have abandoned you but I realise now, Gilla, that you never did care for anybody but you.”

“I love you, I do.” She pleaded.

“No,” you uttered, “I don’t think you do, but I did love you, my friend.”

“Please…” She sobbed.

“I will not see you again, I expect,” you said as the guard retrieved the stool, “So let us part without hatred. Take this last generosity from me and save yourself. Perhaps you might live to learn from it.”

“I didn’t know he… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe you,” you backed away. “You’re not sorry for me, only sorry for yourself.” You turned and bent your head. “Goodbye, Gilla.”

You strode through the door and the guards followed, signaling the gaoler to lock up behind them. You raised your hand and bit into your knuckle as you were overcome with despair. Your old life was over. The last remnant of your former existence was extinguished.

It was your final surrender. You belonged to the king completely. Your body, your mind, your child; every part of you was his.

🐍

You returned to the chambers exhausted. Those days, you were always tired. You hung your cloak and stood by the fire to warm your numb fingertips. You undressed quietly and retired to the bedchamber. You sat in your shift before the hearth and watched the embers beneath the tent of logs.

You thought of the baker’s daughter and that first day you’d met her. She had been sweet, once. When had she grown so… greedy? How could one raised in simplicity come to want what she had never known? You closed your eyes and refused to cry. She would not break you; if nothing else had, she could not.

You floated in a haze as the orange glow of the fire shone against your eyelids. There was much yet to worry for. Would the king’s men arrest the prince before he could evade them? Would the kingdom overcome the rent caused by the royal siblings? Would your child survive the months before you?

Hours passed and you did not move. You stayed as you were, held by the moment. A taste of solace you hadn’t known in ages. No anxiety of your tormentors’ return, no fear of what was to happen in the next instant. It was just you and the hearth; you and your child in what could be the only peace you had together.

When at last you were disturbed by the gentle open and close of the door in the next chamber, you still remained. You listened to the king as he moved around and sensed his shadow as he appeared in the door frame behind you. He was quiet as he neared.

He said nothing, as if he believed you were asleep. You knew he didn’t but he let you think so. You listened to the rustle of his clothing as he shed each layer. As stubborn as he was, as much as he insisted nothing had changed, something had. You were both afraid of it but would not admit it.

You felt a tug at the bottom of the blanket spread over your legs. You tried to ignore it, thinking perhaps he had passed too closely. A rush of air flew up below the wool Loki’s fingertips tickled your ankle. You opened your eyes and looked down at him as he reached below your shift.

“Your majesty,” you yawned and shifted but he caught your knees and kept them apart. “What--”

He hushed you with a soft his and dipped his head below the blanket. You braced the arms of the chair as your body went rigid. He wore only his undershorts as he bent and plied kisses to your thighs in a torturous trail towards your pelvis. You grasped his head as he rolled your shift higher and higher and his breath grazed your cunt.

“My king,” you begged. You were trembling. You knew you could not stop him.

He ignored you still and kneaded your thighs as he pushed closer. His hands slid up your sides as he nuzzled the patch of hair between your legs and you gasped. You weren’t ready. You never truly were. His tongue surprised you as it flicked along your folds and he purred. He cupped your tender breasts as he delved into you, your core alight at his command.

He dragged his tongue along your bud and lingered on it, teasing it with small swirls and hungry suckles. Your arms flew back to grip the back of the chair and he rubbed his thumbs over your nipples as they stood out beneath your shift. He groaned as he lapped you up. His gentleness was disarming though he remained as adamant as ever.

“Please,” you begged as your body responded against your want. “Please…”

He purred and kept on, his head moving against your bunched up skirt and bobbing beneath the blanket. You arched in your seat, unable to resist the bloom deep inside. You felt the release and suddenly you needed it. All your stress, all your fear, anger, and hurt, bundled up and brewed inside you as ecstasy muted them.

You cried out as every muscle in your body tensed and eased in a split second. You moved your pelvis against Loki’s mouth as you rode out your climax and he didn’t relent until you were limp and breathless. He sat back on his heels and let the blanket drop to your feet. His hair was tangled and askew, his lips glistening as he grinned at you.

He rested his hands on your thighs and came closer so that he leaned against the front of the chair.

“My brother has been arrested,” he said.

Your lashes fluttered and you nodded, speechless. He bent and the tip of his long nose met your stomach. He slid his arms to hug you as he turned and pressed his ear to your middle. You froze as you watched him, as if he was listening for the stirring of his child. You were startled by his tameness. He kissed your stomach as he drew back to look at you again.

“I need you.” He murmured, “I ache. Badly.”

You felt the stone set in your skull. Ever as you were, his plaything. You knew his meaning; it never differed. And he never asked, only demanded,

He took your hand and stood. He pulled you up and you let him. You hadn’t the strength to deny him. There was no denying him. You didn’t want that Loki; cold and callous. So you would cede to his needs and hope they were met quickly.

He let you go as you neared the bed. He rolled down his shorts and his desire stood up before him. He lowered himself across the mattress and beckoned to you. You lowered your eyes and chewed your lip to keep from showing the turmoil raging inside you. You lifted your shift over your head and dropped it.

He guided you over him and stroked his cock as he did. He pressed his tip along your folds, his hand on your hip as he urged you down. You sank to his hilt and he sighed. He stilled you and looked at the joining of your bodies. The silence enshrined you and you closed your eyes. He took your hands and placed them on his chest.

He gripped your waist and moved you atop him. Slowly so that your clit rubbed against him. You hated how good it felt, hated that you couldn’t stop, hated that he was being so… nice. You dug your nails into his flesh and sped up. He held you tighter and forced you to slow. You grunted and opened your eyes, frowning down at him.

“No,” he spoke at last, “Not like that.”

You shook your head. When had he ever wanted anything but hard, fast pleasure. You pulled your hands from him and he forced them back as they were. You struggled with him for only a moment as he squeezed your wrists in warning.

“Slow,” he bid as he stared into your eyes.

His hands returned to your sides and he rocked you again. You shuttered as the tide began to roll inside of you, swelling as it grew. You moaned as you began to quake. Loki’s deliberate stride had you confused. His pace matched your pleasure, quickening only as your voice rose louder.

You came again. You twitched atop him and he moved you as your wits left you entirely. His own voice filled your ears and his thick breaths intermingled with his lurid groans. His hand snaked around to your back and the other spread over your stomach. He stilled you and tilted his hips into you over and over from below.

He exclaimed as his orgasm struck him and impaled you entirely. He slowed and eased you down against him. He embraced you as he laid you over his chest and cradled your head as his chin rested against your head.

What was that? You wondered as your heart raced with his. His petered out but you couldn’t help as your mind struggled against your body.

When you calmed enough to move. His arms fell away and you parted from him, his seed spilling down your thighs. You fell back on the mattress, your flesh still buzzing. You couldn’t look at him. Why would he do that? Like that?

You were his whore, he’d told you time and again. You rolled onto your side, your back to him and crossed your arms. He ran his fingers along your spine.

“Are you unwell?” He asked.

You didn’t answer. Why would he even ask that? Your eyes tingled and you fought to hold back your tears. He was just torturing you. That’s all this was.

“Speak to me, mouse,” he grabbed your shoulder and forced you flat on your back.

You gritted your teeth and stared at the ceiling. “Why?”

“I was gentle…” He said, his voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes, why?” You repeated.

“I…” He paused and the silence was thick as it choked you.

“When your wife arrives, what will she think of me, your whore, and the bastard inside of me?” You spat.

He sat up and leaned on his arm as he watched you. You refused to look at him.

“I’ll deal with my wife.” He said, “And I’ll deal with you. Don’t forget yourself, mouse.”

You scoffed and tried to turn away from him again. He held you down and let out a long breath. His hand came up to frame your face. “I am heartened, mouse, that you do remain so stubborn.”

🐍

Sleep did not come easy that night. Not to you. Loki was hardly bothered as he snored beside you. His arm was across you as if to remind you of his power over you. Your thoughts strayed back to all your worries. Gilla, Thor, the man beside you, the child in your stomach.

Your life was not your own. It had never been. As you thought, you realised you had only ever been used by others. You had only ever been a footnote to someone else’s will. You had nothing, not even your own body, your own mind.

You slowly slipped from beneath Loki’s arm. Your thighs were sticky still with his cum and you were sickened by the sensation. You stood and went to the bath chamber and cleaned yourself with the cold water of the basin. You saw yourself in the looking glass. You looked hollow; you felt it.

You went back to the bedroom and covered yourself with the silken robe allotted you. You bent, awkwardly, to feed a log to the ashes and stirred it until you found ember. As the flame began to lick at the pale bark, you stood with a groan and passed into the front chamber.

You wandered around the space; it was smaller than the king’s former residence. You neared the table placed against the wall and stared at the peculiar object left atop it. Careless, you thought as you pulled the leather-sheathed dagger towards you. Or deliberate?

Loki had a wife coming and brother to be tried. You were trouble for both. He was ever a trickster, ever deceptive, and perhaps, you had been dumb enough to believe him. Again. He didn’t want you back, didn’t want a bastard to muddy his inheritance; he’d only wanted a reason to be rid of Thor. Surely, he was so intent on keeping you hidden so that none would notice if you were gone.

Had you been foolish enough to think he felt anything towards you but the need to sate his own lust? That he had any loyalty to you beyond a warm cunt? That you had any place here once he married? That your child would be welcomed as anything but a nuisance?

You sat and freed the dagger from its cover. You held the blade up in the dim and felt its sharp edge with your fingertip. It sliced easily into your flesh. You turned it in your hand and thought of bringing it to your throat or plunging it deep in your chest. Your eyes welled and at last, the dam was broken.

You cried into your palm as your other hand gripped the dagger. You trembled and peered down at your stomach. Would he care? If he found you in a river of your own blood? It would be a favour to all.

You wept until your eyes were swollen and your throat was hoarse. You were a coward. Why couldn’t you just do it? What did you have to live for?

“Mouse,” Loki’s voice was cautious. “What are you… give me the knife, mouse.”

You dropped the blade and flinched as it bounced between your feet. You shook your head and mopped up the last of your tears from your cheeks. Loki neared slowly and bent to lift the dagger. He took the sheath and replaced it on the silver. His jaw squared as you avoided his gaze.

“What were you thinking to do with this?” He growled.

“Nothing,” you croaked. “I was only curious.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He hissed. “Whatever you were thinking, I don’t want it to ever cross your mind again. Understood?”

You nodded and hung your head. He moved away from you and opened the chest atop the side table. He tossed the dagger within and locked it.

“I told you. It is treason to spill king’s blood.” He stomped back to you. “Death cannot save you from my wrath.”

“I didn’t--”

“You thought to.” He snarled. “Get up.”

“Your majesty--”

“I will not tell you twice.” He barked.

You stood and he seized your arm. He turned you and marched you back into the bedchamber. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and you expected him to tear open the robe. You expected the same as he had been. You were certain he would be atop you in an instant.

But he passed you and went to the cloak hung beside your own. He fished around the pocket sewn into the lining and took out a bundle. He returned to you and held out the folded linen, bound with a length of hide lace. You frowned and he dropped it into your lap.

“Go on,” he loomed over you.

Your hands shook and you pulled free the bow looped atop the bundle. You unfolded the linen and revealed a pair of green booties, winding snakes sewn into the soles and golden ribbons woven along the top. They were small, meant for an infant. You cradled them in your hands as your throat tightened.

“My mother sewed them,” he said. “I found them after she died. I had almost forgotten them before I moved from my own chambers.” He sat beside you heavily. “I don’t know what else to do with them.”

You peeked over at him. You lowered them back to the linen and set them aside. “They’re meant for a prince.” You muttered.

“No, only for my child,” he said, “Prince or no.” His cheek twitched and he stared at the carpet, “Don’t make me hide them again. I couldn’t bear it.”

You were quiet. You’d never seen him so vulnerable. Angry, annoyed, longing… but never so solemn. Despite all your loathing for him, your heart squeezed. You took his hand, he winced, but let you move it. You put it to your stomach.

“It is my child, too,” you said softly. “I couldn’t…”

He nodded and pressed his palm firmly to your midriff. You sat, silently, the crackle of the fire the only noise. Loki did not move, nor did you. A wordless pact forged between you. The child would live. It had to.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #fic #dark fic #loki x reader #dark!fic #series #thor #au #medieval au #mcu #marvel #by the king's hand #king!loki

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mmikmmik2 · 3 years

Note

If you were to sort the Infinity Train cast(s) into the Major Arcana a la the Persona games, which Arcana would you give everyone?

anon I had SOOOOO much fun thinking about this, thank you so much for sending me this. I sorted all the major characters, plus a few other entries, based on a mix of Arcana symbolism, Persona series character archetypes, and general vibes. I came up with answers I feel pretty good about for all but four of the Arcana. (Was really tempted to say Strength is every human character who doesn't board the train because they can handle their problems on their own lol.) This is going to be a long-winded post, so I thought I’d post just the list as an image (which hopefully won’t be too blurry!) rather than wrestle with Tumblr formatting trying to make a short list, and put a big text wall under the readmore talking more about my picks.

If this list does end up illegible, the same info is under the readmore as text! Plus some characters for Magician, Strength, Justice, and Death that I didn’t want to add to the “official” list because they’re more based on headcanon. (Although my reasoning for some of the “official” picks is pretty weak lol.)

One-One as 0. The Fool

Oh my gosh, what am I?

IT is great at fleshing out character backstories and families, so One-One at the beginning of S1 is one of the few characters who really feels like a blank slate. He's got a lot of his baggage back by the end of the season, and I think One and One-One are more similar than they seem at first glance, but S1 does seem to have been very formative for One-One and how he thinks about what he's supposed to be doing and how he relates to other people. So it does kind of feel like his fool's journey.

Alrick Timmens as I. The Magician

The magician begins the journey... by beefing it on a dirt bike, dying, and sending his wife flying off the deep end. Rip.

Alrick was an engineer like Amelia, so I could see him suiting some of the themes of the Magician, like conscious thought and manifesting ideas. His apparent playfulness and insecurity are similar to the Magician characters in Persona.

Kez as II. The High Priestess

“We can’t make this decision for you, Kez.” “You know what to do.”

I thought really hard about making Kez the Magician because just like every Magician since Persona 3, she's dumb, horny, and insecure dlkjasfdkl

(and also her showing up at the start of the story arc and being helpful but also super needy is very Magician)

But the idea of "intuition" really does suit Kez. Sometimes her intuition is as bad as her conscious reasoning, but I think that's a lot because she's so confused about what happened with Jeremy, and Morgan making Kez feel like she did a bad thing by helping him.

Tuba as III. The Empress

She made me feel like I was warm all the time.

Tuba's a mom. Sorry, this one's not that deep, haha.

Simon Laurent as IV. The Emperor

Highest number! I'm the leader now.

Simon has a lot of issues, but the one that felt the most prominent to me was his unhealthy relationship with power, authority, dominance, and rules. Another quote I considered using here was what he said in Grace's memory of meeting Amelia: "I never thought I'd get to see the Conductor with my own eyes. He's perfect! Everything finally makes sense again." In his emotional crisis, he thought everything could be fixed just by the existence of a huge, scary, powerful, male authority figure, even if they weren't doing anything helpful or informative.

Atticus as V. The Hierophant

I like to think that our stones are sturdy and handsome, like the Corgis that crafted them.

Atticus is a figure of traditional authority who deeply loves the history, society, and culture of his people. He often provides spiritual wisdom and encourages Tulip to get out of her own head and engage with the world around her. Also in Persona, Hiero is the Dad Arcana so it's very funny to me (a) to make the little dog be Hiero and (b) that the little dog really does have the strongest Wholesome Dad Energy of the whole cast.

Jesse Cosay as VI. The Lovers

Don't tell me what to do. I'm not going to be a part of anything like this, on or off the train.

This was my first and easiest pick lol, Jesse is sooooo Lovers. Like, the focus on choice and personal values and relationships? Yep, that's Jesse. It works on an "actual meaning of the Arcana" level and a "vibes with the Persona characters" level lol... popular, upbeat, and having such an identity crisis.

Lake as VII. The Chariot

I'm my own person, who is getting off this train!

I don't know if Chariot captures all the ways Lake grew over the course of S2, but I feel like they had the most externally focused conflict of all the IT characters, which suits Chariot. They've been fighting to stake out their personhood from start to finish, and they took action and used their willpower to achieve that goal. Also they have at least a little jock energy which is a prereq for Chariot tbh.

Frank as VIII. Strength

I dunno, I kinda imagine him as a simple man and easily underestimated, but with a lot of heart. The Cat may say they're keeping things casual but I don't think she'd take him with her on her private vacation unless he had some kind of inner toughness that would let him stand toe-to-toe with her.

Morgan as IX. The Hermit

I need to be alone right now. Kez... maybe... we can talk later.

I like that Morgan embodies toxic self-isolation and stonewalling and rejection, but that she seems to be moving towards the positive aspects of Hermit and taking some time to calm down and process and think. I like it when characters can embody the best and worst of their Arcana.

Tulip Olsen as X. The Wheel of Fortune

We have to adapt to the changes in our lives. It's the only way things can get better.

Tulip has a lot of themes and conflicts, but this one is a clear standout as the most important. I also like it for Tulip because, while she has to handle a lot of difficult and even traumatic situations, some of the change that challenges her isn't as unambiguously bad as e.g. the death of a loved one. It really is just change itself she's struggling with, and that's Fortune babey. Also, from the perspective of the train itself and lots of other characters, by reversing Amelia and One-One's positions again and changing how One-One administrates the train, Tulip is the one giving the wheel a spin. That's fun.

Lucy as XI. Justice

One of my friends once described the Justice characters in Persona as "the ones the player character is ultimately accountable towards", and I like to think of Lucy as kind of being that for Grace (...since Hazel has excused herself). Lucy is the Apex kid we see Grace interact with the most, the first Apex kid Grace admitted to herself that she had harmed (see Grace very briefly showing distress and then regret when Jesse points the harpoons at his face and she stops him), and the first person to confront Grace when she came home in The New Apex.

Min-Gi Park as XII. The Hanged Man

I don't know if we'll sell a single album, but we'll figure that out as we go.

Min-Gi sacrifices his "realistic", "sensible" goals for a more personally (spiritually, even?) enriching life that's beyond his control and outside of the expected norm. Like the Hanged Man, who dangles foolishly upside-down, but as a deliberate choice and in a state of serenity and enlightenment. I also think this arcana suits a reading of Min-Gi's character development as starting off going slower as a way to stall and live in denial, but then going slower with deliberation. Compare his arrogant insistence on refusing to act in The Astro Queue Car to his patience and care in The Castle Car and The Train to Nowhere.

Jeremy as XIII. Death

This isn't about the death of his family - I'm thinking of his reluctance to admit his number was going down. He cared about Morgan and Kez, and it's possible both that he may have really wanted to stay with them despite his exit and that that might even have been a healthy choice - they're real ass people with feelings and everything, not holodeck characters. But I also think Jeremy was using his life with them to avoid moving on out of that fog (because it was hard and it hurt and he didn't want to think about what that would mean for him and Morgan) and Morgan was enabling him.

Ryan Akagi as XIV. Temperance

Maybe the experience is the point. I wasn't just rushing you. I was rushing myself.

I think this one speaks for itself. Also, the other quote I considered putting here, from The Art Gallery Car: "You told me I can't appreciate the song without taking in the rest of the album. I need the whole package."

The Cat as XV. The Devil

I always do the right thing.

Honestly, this is one I really wasn't sure about. The Cat isn't a great pick for a lot of the meanings of Devil. She is definitely consumed by material comforts, and the short-term rewards of ignoring her issues at a long-term cost, though. This is more of a "vibes with Persona characters with this arcana" pick... Devil characters tend to start off being somewhat exploitative or even antagonistic towards the player character, and gradually showing a more conflicted and genuine side.

Amelia Hughes as XVI. The Tower

There's a hole in the universe where Alrick used to be.

Amelia's life is defined by catastrophe and upheaval - both those she's suffered and those she's inflicted on others.

Hazel as XVII. The Star

I'm going to keep loving you like you're still here.

When I think of "The Star" as a small but inextinguishable light in the darkness, Hazel seems like the obvious choice. Although we left her deeply wounded, I think she still has a flicker of her hope, faith, and purpose.

Grace Monroe as XVIII. The Moon

But it's unfair for me to tell you how to understand yourself. I mean, I don't even fully understand me.

Grace is probably the most complex and dynamic character on the show and hence one of the most difficult to place. I considered Empress, Strength, Devil, and Judgement for her... I think ultimately, lies and illusions are the most unifying theme of her character arc. Also, from a Persona angle, her pursuit of status out of a lack of true self-worth reminds me of Ai and Mishima.

Alan Dracula as XIX. The Sun

Brought together by the majesty of a superpowered deer!

I'm sorry dkjasfklads this is largely because I thought it was funny to have this completely inexpressive dead-eyed deer as Sun akfk but also... like... it kind of works okay!!! Think about the genuine joy and comfort and positivity he brings to Lake and Jesse (and me)!

The New Apex as XX. Judgement

"Then what are we gonna be?" "Guess we'll have to figure it out?"

This is kind of a Persona mythology gag again because of Judgement being a group social link near the end of the narratives of P3 and P4, when the protagonists have pierced through the lies and actually figured out who the villain of their game is and are ready to really start making progress.

0 as XI. The World

Ah, train does it again!

It's an ending and the completion of a journey, but also the beginning of a new one. And the world is literally what the passengers receive at the end of their train journey. Welcome home.

#infinity train #infinity train spoilers #protagonists of IT #Anonymous

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winterune · 3 years

Text

Happy 46th birthday Kamiya Hiroshi-san! | 28.01.2021

Alright I’m back to posting birthday celebration/top seiyuu roles stuffs (or at least for Kamiyan’s birthday). My last Kamiyan birthday post was in 2019, so let’s revamp my list now.

#1: Takashi Natsume - Natsume Yuujinchou

Soft Kamiyan is best Kamiyan. I’m sorry, but I guess I just love soft characters. I think I’ve gushed more than enough how much I love Natsume Yuujinchou, Natsume Takashi, and of course his small buta neko companion/self-proclaimed guardian. So here it is, Soft Kamiyan’s best cinnamon roll boi Natsume as my #1 favorite Kamiyan role (heck, my #1 favorite character, series, and performance ever). My heart expands three thousand times every time I hear Natsume speak.

#2: Kakushi Gotou - Kakushigoto

I’ll be honest. This is the reason why I’m coming back to making these posts lol. I just finished watching Kakushigoto and I am in love with it!!! Definitely one of the hidden gems of 2020. A story about a single father who’s trying to raise his daughter while hiding the nature of his job. And Kamiyan nailed Gotou. From his dramatic performance when he’s on the job to the soft and caring side when he’s with his daughter. Everything was just perfect. Hearing Gotou just feels so natural.

#3: Izaya Orihara - Durarara!!

The heartless little bastard that was probably the first Kamiyan role that stole my heart. Again, Kamiyan gave Izaya life. Still one of my favorite Kamiyan roles to this day. It makes one wonder how this is the same man who voices soft Natsume. Speaking of, I remember thinking ‘I know this voice!’ when Kamiyan used his Natsume voice as Nakura in episode 2 I think

#4: Yato - Noragami

Season 3 when lol but well in all seriousness, Kamiyan as Yato is just amazing. He showed a wider range of emotion in Aragoto after we learn about his past as the God of Calamity, his desire to be the God of Fortune, and finally seeing him with Father for the first time. Just imagine how animated and voiced Yato will kill me if they ever decide to make a season 3 T-T

#5: Koyomi Araragi - Monogatari series

It’s a talent in and of itself to be able to voice a wide range of characters and make each and every one of them memorable. Though he’s that type of seiyuu whose voice is very recognizable, I never get bored. Koyomi is one such case, and I just love him so much. (Speaking of Monogatari, I have yet to see Arakawa Under The Bridge and Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei. Huh, so Kamiyan worked with Akiyuki Shinbou in three series, whereas he worked with Omori Takahiro in two - NatsuYuu and Durarara, one of which is still ongoing)

Well, seems like my top 5 still hasn’t changed (except for one) xD But really though, four of the five are indisputable, they probably won’t be dropping out of the list any time soon. It is funny how many of my favorite main characters were voiced by Kamiya Hiroshi. Whereas I usually associate a seiyuu with their popular characters, I never do so with Kamiyan. Somehow, he feels low-profile yet he manages to score big roles that end up being famous and/or iconic. His characters always feel so natural to me.

Honorable Mentions

HM1: Kusuo Saiki - Saiki Kusuo no Psi-nan

Don’t you just love when Kamiyan voices characters who talk a lot? I know I do, lol. There was Araragi, and then Saiki. I remember him talking in the DGS radio about when he got the role. He wasn’t actually too keen on it xD but hey I love him as Saiki lol

HM2: Levi Ackerman - Shingeki no Kyojin

To be honest, I’m not much of a fan of Kamiyan’s Levi. I love Levi, not a fan of his voice lol. But I still gotta put him on this list. Because, well, one of his most popular roles to date? Yeah, lol. I said how Kamiyan’s voice is usually recognizable. That’s not quite the case with Levi. I still can’t find any trace of his voice whenever I hear Levi speak that you’d wonder how is it possible that the man behind Levi is also the one behind characters like Natsume, Yato, Izaya lol. Sometimes it feels like he had to force his voice to go that deep.

HM3: Choromatsu - Osomatsu-san

Yeah I don’t follow Osomatsu-san, even though I want to. All my favorite A-list casts, but the comedy is just not my cup of tea ^^;; Still, I do love seeing some episodes, and the series is quite the phenomenon, so I’m gonna put him on the list.

HM4: Tieria Erde - Mobile Suits Gundam 00

Seriously, there are a lot of other characters I want to put here. Like Ao no Exorcist’s Mephisto Pheles (Kamiyan was awesome here) or BSD’s Edogawa Ranpo (minor, but eh, still a popular series), but neither (not the characters or the series) are a favorite, so I’m going with Tieria Erde from Gundam 00. I’m not a Gundam fan. Not in the sense that I watched all series. But I do love mecha and even though Gundam 00 is more of a spin-off from the bigger Gundam narrative, I loved it. Great casts, enjoyable story. I guess this was before Kamiyan grew famous? Still, I did love Tieria, especially in the second season. That deadpan character who occasionally show emotion.

HM5: Machina Kunagiri - Final Fantasy Type-0

I never played the game, tbh, but I wanted to mention him in the list because, well, Final Fantasy (and I’ve always been fascinated with Type-0′s lore). I wish Square would cast him in a mainline game. Well, he was casted as a minor role in FFX, but seeing Square’s trend of casting A-list seiyuu’s as their main characters, one could dream, right? To be fair, 7R mainly used their original cast from back in the 2000s and the main XV cast was decided also in mid 2000 (back from when it was still Versus XIII, though they changed Gladiolus’s seiyuu). I do wish they’d cast Kamiyan as, even if not a main character, a major supporting character. He’s not even in XIV when XIV has a lot of famous seiyuus in it.

well, that’s my list for now. I realize that many of my favorite Kamiyan roles are from recurring series. When I first made the list two years ago, I was surprised by how few roles I can list, because apparently all my favorites are from long ongoing series or ones that spawn many seasons. Look at NatsuYuu, Osomatsu, Monogatari, and SnK lol. No wonder it always feels like I hear Kamiyan every season xD

#kamiya hiroshi #hiroshi kamiya #natsume yuujinchou #noragami #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #monogatari series #kakushigoto #durarara #durarara!!#final fantasy #final fantasy type 0 #osomatsu san #saiki kusuo no psi nan #gundam 00 #mobile suits gundam 00 #seiyuu #seiyuu musings

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florbelles · 3 years

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13~17 for Lyra and John?

thank you legend, i am once again sorry for my response time on this rip

xiii. what is their go-to for making a partner feel loved?

— this is something that's actually incredibly difficult for her; the enormity of it is something that nothing feels adequate to express. while she's very physically demonstrative, one of her greatest fears — particularly after he's gone — is that she never expressed it the right way, that he never understood, not really. she desperately hopes he does. she tells him, a thousand times, she is sorry for the way she is, even knowing that he loves her for it, even knowing that he knows what he chose. ( he did, of course, he tells her as much, but it still haunts her ).

she tries to makes him feel loved by what makes her feel loved; making sure he knows she sees him, understands him, accepts him completely and unconditionally. he doesn't need to be anyone else for her; he doesn't need to prove anything to her. she shows him she loves him by letting him simply be, by proving with time that she isn’t going anywhere, that she’s all in.

she shows him love the only ways she knows how. she's most comfortable expressing herself with her body, that she can give him, that she can do and do well ( sexually, yes, of course, but perhaps more pertinently — neither of them have an uncomplicated relationship or history with sex, elaborated on below under xv — with nonsexual signs of affection — running her thumb over his, nuzzling him when she comes up behind him, pressing her lips to his neck ). she’s always touching him if she’s near him. she’s extremely affectionate, both physically and verbally, especially in the mornings and at night when they’re lying limbs-twined.

the simplest answer is, however, synonymous with the answer to xv below; she expresses her love through her trust and willingness to render herself wholly vulnerable. she expresses it through quiet, subtle intimacies that might not be immediately evident to anyone who doesn’t know her ( it’s been stated many times before, but to lyra, the use of a first name and familiar language is the greatest sign of intimacy she can verbally give — her enemies are darling, her husband is john ). “hi, john” is her “i love you;” “i’m so glad it’s you” is her “i love you.”

xiv. what makes them feel loved? would they build up the courage to ask for it?

— the small efforts he makes to meet her at her level. when he says “you love me.” when he manages to drag his ass out of bed for her in the morning to watch the sunrise even though they’re on two hours and he needs his beauty sleep. she doesn't expect accommodation. she doesn't expect anything. one of her most prevailing thoughts early in their relationship is that it would have been enough for him to simply see and understand her; she would not have asked him not to hate her, she does not ask him not to forsake her, but he chose not to. he gave her acceptance. he gave her love. she would never in a thousand years ask for it.

for john, it’s that she lights up when she's around him — is truly simply that happy just to see him and be near him without needing or expecting anything from him, which isn’t something he’s necessarily had in his life from figures who aren’t obligated either by familial bonds or being his subordinates. she could not disguise it even if she wished. he will always make her flush. he will always make her stomach drop and her teeth flash and her eyes gleam. it is simply the way it is: it is incredibly fortunate they are not seen together by anyone outside of the project, because they would have known immediately. ( they do know immediately, when the time comes, before the end of everything ).

xv. what, for them, constitutes a level of intimacy that they would only rarely share with someone? this can be physical, emotional, etc.

— vulnerability, both emotional and physical.* quite literally, he is the only partner she's ever had that she has slept with, excepting some of her earliest girlfriends, generally bunkmates at school ( “i have never slept with a man in all my life!” is a favored gag of hers ). he is also the only partner with whom she hasn't kept her shoes or knives or some means of defense on her person ( john would argue the post-coital teeth and scratch marks he permanently wears make her true defenselessness sat any given time debatable, but it's the thought that counts! ).

( * for the sake of simplicity, this excludes all intimacy in relation to the project; while it’s obviously a major part of their relationship and a shared cause/belief system that deepens their bond, it’s complicated by the fact she would have joined the project and undergone those processes with or without him, whether or not they were lovers )

physical intimacy is, at first glance, something that is decisively not something only rarely shared, given that they both have hundreds of past sexual partners; they both have a complicated past with sex and their own respective baggage. john obviously has a history of self-medication and addiction that’s bound up with his demons and self-loathing; for lyra it's never been a particular vice — she has absolutely also used it to self-medicate in the past, usually as a way to blow off steam when her blood is running hot in a potentially more lethal direction, but it’s never been an instrument of self-destruction — an d is instead primarily is burdened with the fact that she used her sexuality to seduce targets; it's something she weaponized and exploited, so there are always going to be certain situations or circumstances she dislikes seeing john in ( she's reluctant to the prospect of restraining or binding him, for example, since she would use restraints on men she seduced with the intention of intimidating or killing them ). they both have associations they don't want to spill over onto the other.

having said that, the fact of that allows them a type of intimacy that might not be immediately evident to anyone else; she makes sure he knows he doesn't have to fuck her to hold her, he doesn't need to use his body to have that familiarity with her ( given that this is previously unexplored territory for the both of them, her saying so goes over about as well as can be expected — pardon him, he didn’t realize sex with him was such a fucking chore, sorry he is so sexually revolting, don’t do him any favors! — but they get there ).

sex is obviously still a big part of their relationship, and not one that john particularly feels the need to repent, since they’re married in all but name almost immediately and are married in fact within six weeks and otherwise has little difficulty john-justifying ( johnstifying, if you will ) it to himself ( she’s been entrusted to me, i’m bringing her closer to the project, she’s meant for me anyway, god brought her to me, this isn’t lust, she said so herself, this is a sanctioned union ), and she immediately casts off any notions of seducing or manipulating him as means of insinuating herself into the project’s protection ( it’s for this reason she stalls joining; she intends to right away, she believes joseph and desperately wants to believe that this is the reason and purpose for everything in her life up to this point, done both by and to her, but she flatly refuses until she can prove her complete commitment and good faith upfront, an opportunity afforded to her by the camera crew’s fortuitous arrival ) — this is also why she cuts off their first encounter and flees the ranch. she will never use her sexuality against him. in that sense, sex as a form of intimacy is reserved for each other.

( this is, in fact, how she knows she loves him; for all of her extensive sexual history, she has never actually wanted someone — not just release with them, not just a physical attraction to them — she is in fact unsettled on whether or not she is attracted to john physically; he's the most beautiful creature alive to her, but that's because he's him, she loves his nose because it's his nose, she loves his eyes because they're his eyes, his skin because it’s his skin — but actually him. she knew she had to have him. )

xvi. if they had the ability to just spend free time with their partner, what would they do? would they go out or stay inside?

— stay in ( not necessarily literally within the confines of their home, but within their own space ). lyra will probably coax him outside at some point because she doesn't feel right if she's indoors all day, regardless of the weather — no, the first seven years of the collapse are not looking well for her, thank you — but they won't necessarily stray from each other's companionship. if it's a day off, joseph is probably giving them space ( this is also his day off from their shared existence, how wonderful to be able to attend to the rest of the flock without worrying about what problems they're causing on purpose ), so while they'll occasionally have the company of one of their family members, it's more likely to simply be the two of them, possibly with the company of some of their closest inner-circle ( shaggy, holly, shaggy’s brother matthew, a few of their select chosen who are assigned to the ranch ) in the evening if lyra decides she wants a bonfire. otherwise, they take full advantage of their ability to absolutely nothing but laze around and talk and make love.

xvii. under what circumstances would they want to be left alone by their partner?

— this almost never happens, since they’re more inclined towards separation anxiety than a need for space, but lyra is the most likely to want it when she needs to sort out her mental state or let her fuse burn down ( like the time she locked herself in the shower to cry for an hour because he loved her or if they’re in an especially heated argument and she needs to clear her head before she says or does something she’ll regret). she rarely does so, however; she’s aware that from his perspective her walking out on him, no matter how temporary or how rationally he knows she’s coming back, exacerbates his angst and triggers his insecurities.

#i'm so sorry i thought i had this scheduled for earlier today but. no #answered #amistrio #oc: lyra fairbanks #x: from eden

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anobscurename · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XIII — masterlist

concept: a celebratory trip to the hamptons results in an altercation the first night you're there. the slowest of slow burns. part fourteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader // chris evans x respect women juice

word count: 2,8k

warnings: tw:sexual harrassment (drunken creeps are creepy), homophobic slurs (they're also assholes), angst

author's note: this one goes out to @fangirlovestuff as promised :) the next part will be coming shortly! we on some double upload weirdness, to make up for my disappearance basically the whole of yesterday

"Um, no... Really, I couldn't."

Lily pouted. Even when she pouted, she was beautiful. "Why not?"

"I don't want to intrude, really, you guys go and have fun. It's the Hamptons after all."

"But everyone's coming! Please?"

"I don't know..."

"For Chris? Would you do it for Chris?"

You cast a tentative glance to the man in question, currently in the midst of a tug-of-war with Dodger, barely paying your conversation any attention. If only they knew you'd do anything for Chris. "He is the worst bargaining chip you could've ever even thought of using."

"How about for me?" She jokingly batted her long, long lashes, an enchanting smile gracing her lips. "I won't take no for an answer, and Sebastian will be there."

"Sebastian?" You rolled your eyes at the suggestive arch of her brows. They were under the impression you and Sebastian were involved, somehow. You picked subconsciously at the scars on the palm of your hand, entirely healed and almost faded into nothing now.

"It would mean so much to us. You're such a big part of Chris' life, one of his best friends, and–"

"Alright!" You snapped. Quickly masking your irritation with a laugh, you repeated yourself, softer this time. "Alright, I'll come."

She clapped happily, giving no indication of having been taken aback or even mildly offended at you having practically yelled at her. Guilt pitted yourself in your stomach. You wanted to dislike her, but not only was she exceptionally beautiful, she was also incredibly nice. Beyond nice. Serial killers weren't even that nice. And it wasn't her fault that she was basically Jesus trapped in the body of a supermodel, and it wasn't her fault for Chris loving her – because honestly, it wasn't hard loving her – it was just that it was so fucking difficult at times when people kept calling you his friend. Chris' friend.

It would be so much easier to hate someone deserving of it, but you just couldn't. Because both of them were so beautiful and... nice.

Perfectly matched in every way you and Chris were not.

So you decided to go to the Hamptons beach house because why not?

What's the worse that could happen?

———————

This was the worse that could happen.

You had arrived at beach house Anthony had rented a little later that day, when the sun was making it's slow decent to kiss the horizon.

And the frenzy to all get ready to go out was nothing short of chaotic.

You were tired from the plane, and irritated from having been sat – with little to no form of escape – in the same row as Chris and Lily. It wasn't necessarily a long flight, but a second felt like hours when you put yourself through that kind of agony.

But you'd made up your mind after the gala to get over this little crush on Chris. Nothing good was going to come of it, and you tried to spare yourself further heartache and broken glass.

Easier said than done.

Anthony and Sebastian did not mirror your mood. On the contrary, they were still riding the high of finally wrapping the filming on Falcon and The Winter Soldier, and this was their celebration weekend. And they were going all out for it.

The house was lavish, no expense spared. And when you'd arrived, Anthony had opened his suitcase right in the kitchen, and began stocking the fridge with the champagne he'd packed in there, cushioned by his clothes.

You had briefly wondered why he had brought such a large suitcase for such a short trip, but as you watched the fifth bottle disappear into the icebox, your questions were answered.

"Why the long face?"

Anthony didn't even have to look at you to know you were standing there, bags having been dropped off in your room before joining him.

"Do I really have to come out tonight?" You whined. You hated how bratty you sounded, but you would much rather stay in the house alone for the night than go out with Chrily. You knew Sebastian and Anthony would be there too – Scarlett was also supposed to come, but she had other duties to attend to, being a mother – but you knew no matter how great they were at making you feel better, you would spend most of the night moody and brooding. And you didn't want to ruin their night with your personal issues.

You were being selfless for selfish reasons.

"Is that even a question?" Anthony was mid-stock with the final bottle of champagne when he looked at you. The inside of the fridge looked like a Moët & Chandon ad, with Anthony Mackie as the ambassador. "You're coming out if it kills me."

"But why?" You groaned.

"Because everything is more fun with you there, and besides... It wouldn't feel like a celebration without our best girl."

"Fine. I'll come," you rolled your eyes, turning to head out. "Need to shower first."

And then you heard the champagne bottle shake, the cork popping and suddenly, you were drenched in a spray of Moët. Over the sound of frothing bubbles, Anthony called out to you. "No need!"

And that was why – despite scrubbing your skin almost raw and lathering your hair to the point of chemical burn – you sat there, on the barstool, smelling faintly like expensive alcohol.

"I hate you," you muttered under your breath to Anthony as you and him had taken it upon yourselves to get the next round of drinks for the table.

He chuckled, struggling to grab a bartender's attention. "No, you don't."

"You're right, I don't. I'll always love you. But that doesn't mean I have to like you right now."

"Love me, huh?" Anthony arched a brow. "Now, was that so hard to say?"

"What?"

"It's not me you should be saying that to. You know that."

You knew what he meant, and a heavy sigh vacated your lungs. "You know it's not the same. You're family. With him... It's different."

"I think this is the first time you've ever admitted it out loud."

And it dawned on you that he was right. You had never let yourself properly admit it, even inwardly. The words had maybe flowed from the tip of your pen onto the pale pages of your journal – the only catharsis you found lately – but you never read those entries back, abandoning them to be lost in a sea of random thoughts, forgotten.

It didn't give you a sense of relief, saying the words. Not even slightly. If anything, they filled you up with dread.

"Don't," you rolled your eyes. "I'm over it. Or at least I'm getting there."

"Hey," he shrugged in placation. "Relax. It's not my confession to make."

Being an ex-cocktail waitress had its perks as you made your way back to the table, slipping easily past people with the tray of shots you had retrieved. You were speedy and efficient, even in your heels.

Anthony, on the other hand...

Beer bottles slotted between each finger, he was having much more difficulty getting by. And once you'd set the shots down at the table, not a drop spilled, Anthony's shirt was spattered with beer, hands slick with it.

As you plopped into the seat beside Sebastian, making him shift over in the booth to make more room for Anthony, he gave you a strained smile.

"I don't know how the fuck you put up with them," Seb whispered to you. "They're so lovey-dovey, it's unbearable."

"Just grin and bear it," you whispered back.

"What are you two giggling about over there?" Chris grinned from across the booth. It wasn't a very convincing grin, but you didn't dwell on it. No more allowing Christopher Robert Evans to occupy your mind.

"Just how Mackie would make a terrible waiter," you shrugged, sending the man in question a quick cheeky smirk.

"Oh, haha, very funny," he flicked some beer at you from his soaked fingertips. "I'd make a fabulous waitress and you know that."

You shied away from the alcohol droplets, laughing. "No! Not again!"

Chris took in his appearance. "Jesus, Ant. Is there even any beer left for us? Or are you wearing it all?"

"Wow, you're all hilarious," he rolled his eyes, finally dropping into the booth. "I didn't know I was out with a bunch of comedians tonight. Did I walk onto a sitcom set? Is this a sketch? Whose turn is it next? Seb? Lily?"

You all took turns making jokes and taking jibes at Anthony's lacklustre bottle service, which was only put to rest once the Falcon actor huffed and proclaimed that "you could all go get your own damned drinks."

As the night wore on, you found yourself gravitating towards the dancefloor. Honestly, you just couldn't be in the booth anymore. You knew getting over him was going to be a slow process, but some part of you had hoped that it would be an immediate and simple thing: just falling out of your pathetic little crush.

But it really wasn't, and so you were on the dancefloor. Regrettably alone. Chris and Lily were still in the booth, and the other couple – Anthony and Seb – were absolutely enthralled by a vintage pinball machine lurking in the back of the bar.

Every now and then, you would hear one whoop for joy as they beat the other's high score, only for the competitive nature of their activity to take over for another redemption round.

As you lost yourself in the music, it wasn't long before you attracted the attention of a drunken creep. You didn't use that term lightly, but this one was truly deserving.

You had felt eyes on you, and immediately found who they belonged to. Just to be polite, you had smiled at him, before continuing your dancing.

And then, taking it as an invitation, he sidled up to you, and clammy hands slithered over your waist, pulling your back to him with a strong, commanding grip. Your stomach lurched, uncomfortable with the fast rising intensity of the situation.

"You look so fuckin' good tonight, baby," he slurred into your ear, swaying on his feet. Alcohol was thick on his breath, and it filled your head with nausea. "Just wanna take you home and fuck you better than anyone ever has..."

You turned around to tell him to fuck off, and that was when that strong slithering grip was in your hair, tugging you to slimy liquored lips in a teeth clashing kiss. Your stomach roiled at the taste, and while he was distracted, you shoved him away from you with as much strength as he could muster.

He stumbled back a few steps, but he had returned to his senses long enough to right himself and soon he was stalking towards you again.

You knew his type. If his clothes and accessories were any indication, he was an arrogant rich kid – the tan telling you he was a Hamptons regular. He was your age, and every bit as entitled as his wealth would suggest.

"Get away from me." It wasn't a request, it was a command.

And he didn't like it. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you to him. You struggled against him, desperately clawing for your freedom. Panic was slowly rising.

"You little bitch," he spat.

"Is there a problem here?"

It was Chris. He had seen the unravelling altercation from the booth, and had promptly come to your aid.

You wondered how long he'd been there for, what he'd overheard. His next words gave you your answer.

"I think the lady said to leave her alone."

The guy didn't even look at him, instead keeping his slabbering gaze on you. "Stay out of this."

Chris wasn't having it. Having eyed up the situation – that whiteknuckled grip on you – Chris clapped a strong – if not a little threatening – hand on the stranger's shoulder. He ripped the guy off of you, and with his other hand, he pulled you behind him protectively.

Your relief, however, was shortlived at the bite of Chris' next suggestion. "Look, buddy, maybe you should take a hint."

"Don't touch me, faggot," he slapped Chris' arm away. "I took the hint. She looked at me, she smiled at me. Look at what she's wearing! She's practically begging to be fucked."

That was the last straw for Chris.

Not only had he made the unforgivable transgression of groping you – and not just you, specifically, but any woman – but this man had crossed the line with the homophobic slur. To do that in front of Chris, being who he was, was tantamount to a death sentence.

And you could feel it as he seethed, fury boiling in his blood.

"You're lookin' at me, now. I'm smilin'." And he was, but it wasn't one you'd ever seen before. It was tight, and it was malicious. "Oh, look at what you're wearin'. Gets me a bit hard, if I'm being honest. Do you like that? Do you like me telling you how hard I'm gonna fuck you with this big cock? No? Then keep your fuckin' hands to yourself and well away from her before I break them."

You knew Chris well enough to know the threat was empty. He was a pacifist – regularly attending lessons in Buddhist teachings when he could. But the other guy didn't know that, and the throb of the muscle in the grit of Chris' jaw was very convincing. So convincing, in fact, you were even a little scared of him in that moment.

The guy tilted his head to address you, trying to make himself seem bigger. "Who even is this joker, your boyfriend?"

"Don't speak to her," Chris snarled. "You're speaking to me now. And as a matter of fact, I am. So fuck off."

What the guy did next shouldn't have been surprising. He was clearly not thinking straight. And if he hadn't done it, Chris effectively calling you his girlfriend might've had more of an impact.

But he took a swing at Chris – and although Chris never started fights, he sure as fuck ended them.

Easily blocking the attack, and in three quick movements, Chris had the other guy's arms locked behind his back. You knew, if he wanted, Chris could pop both of this guy's arms out of their sockets. And if Chris was anyone else, he might have. He was angry enough to do it.

"Let it go," came his scathing whisper.

Of course the other guy struggled. He struggled and yelled out curses, slurs, anything his alcohol addled mind could come up with.

It was enough to draw the attention of the owner of the establishment.

"Oi," she yelled. A severe no-shit type woman had come out of the back room to brace her arms against the bar, fixing you all with a withering look. "The three of you. Out."

The commotion had also been enough to draw the attention of the others, and you were on your way out – still protectively clutched to Chris' side by his musclebound arm – when they'd made it to you.

"What happened?" Seb panted.

"Just some asshole picking a fight," Chris explained, rage still colouring his voice. "Could you guys do me a favour?"

"Sure, man," Anthony said. "Whatever you need."

"I'm going to take {your name} back. Could you tell Lily when she gets out of the bathroom that we got kicked out and I'll be waiting for her at home?"

"If you just wait for her, we can all go home together," Seb suggested, already backing up a little to get his jacket from the booth.

Chris shook his head. "I need time to cool off. I don't want her seeing me like this."

"I'm really sorry for ruining your night, guys," you said, your voice small.

They were quick to assure you you hadn't. It didn't lessen the guilt, though.

"You guys enjoy," Chris said as you both hovered by the door. "We'll make up for tonight at the beach tomorrow."

———————

"I can fight my own battles."

It was the first words either of you had spoken since you'd gotten back to the house. The drive was done in deafening silence, and you felt compelled to finally break it.

"I know you can," Chris sighed. He hadn't been expecting a thanks, but he'd at least been expecting something more than that admonishment. "Better than anyone. But you shouldn't have to."

"I had it handled."

"My point is, you shouldn't have to handle this shit. No one should."

He had come with you all the way to your bedroom door, and you both stood, divided by the frame.

His brow was furrowed, thinking. And then: "Are you angry with me?"

"No," you smiled sadly.

The double meaning laced with your next words would serve to haunt both of you the remainder of the night.

"I just want you to know that you don't have to fight for me. I'm fine on my own."

#dina writes #chris evans/you #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #ocean eyes #anthony mackie #sebastian stan

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