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f4nrir · 11 months

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Selcouth Chapter 3

steven grant x reader x marc spector

note: this took me such a long time to finish as I decided to change up a few things. I still have a few ideas for this series so I may continue it. for now, I'm going to focus on one-shots and/or headcanons. feel free to correct me if how I portrayed DID is incorrect, I’d like to be educated as much as possible.

cw: fluff, mentions of DID, slight angst, subtle flirting, kissing

Summary: After the night in the library, things take a turn for the better. word count: 4.1k

An hour had gone by and it was getting late, so you spoke up and reminded him of the time. Steven nodded in response, closing his notebook and swiftly putting it back in his backpack. The tension was horrible, it felt like there was a wall that suddenly built in between you two. On the other hand, Steven seemed to be just fine and didn’t think much of it.

You stood up and pushed in your chair, still embarrassed about what happened. Mumbling a goodbye, you attempted to walk away but Steven grabbed a hold of your hand. He stopped you before you were able to leave and you turned around to face him, his face having an expression of a lost puppy. You hate how much of an effect that has on you, it never fails to make you melt.

“Are you alright?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with concern. It made your stomach tie into a knot, his cluelessness made the urges come back and you wanted to kiss him again. But you couldn’t.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” you abruptly pulled away, walking in the opposite direction so you couldn’t see the expression on his face. ‘I feel bad..’ you murmured to yourself and gave in, taking a glance behind you and Steven stood there as he watched you walk away. You felt your heartache as you’d never seen him so crushed.

As you walked home, you mentally beat yourself up for hurting him and running away from the problem. You couldn’t handle the thought of losing the one person who means the world to you and ruining what you had. Sure, you and Steven were incredibly close and crossed the lines a few times but never pursued anything. Maybe it was platonic on his behalf and was able to differentiate platonic feelings.

Steven made his way back to his flat, pondering what he had done wrong. He unlocked the door, sitting down to do his usual routine of removing his shoes. “Steven.. Did you not notice what was happening?” Marc asked with a tone in his voice as if he was disappointed. Steven looked up at the mirror, looking dumbfounded. “What?”

Marc sighed and put his face in his palm, shaking his head in slight frustration. Even Steven’s cluelessness rubbed on him, sensing that you noticed it too. Throughout the months you and Steven have spent time together, Marc was also falling for you too. Steven knew he felt something, although he was much more oblivious and didn’t think of it as anything. Some of the gestures Steven would do were actually through Marc’s control as he wanted to be selfish, to be able to do things for you and love you in his secret ways. Whether it’d be offering Steven’s arm as you cross the street or carrying your bags for you when you go out, Marc is willing to do it all.

“Steven, he was trying to kiss us— you. he was trying to make a move..” he murmured, slightly lowering his head down and Steven looked up at the mirror.

“What?” he said, putting his face into his hands and sighing in frustration, wondering as to how he didn’t notice. You must’ve felt embarrassed and that thought alone was enough to make his stomach churn, as he did not want to make you feel anything bad at all.

“Marc.. we can’t. You know that, we don’t know how he’d react to us.” Steven sighed and Marc looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, his whole demeanor changing.

“WE have known him for a while now Steven! I don’t want to be kept a secret anymore. We have been waiting for this to happen and even if we won’t have romantic relations with him, I want to know him for myself. I want to be able to be around him as myself.. Steven, we have to tell him.” Marc pleaded, making Steven sigh and look back at the mirror.

“Marc I’m scared..” he admitted, taking a breath before continuing, “He is the kindest person we’ve ever met and I don’t want to lose him. But I am tired, I want to rest and let my guard down around him as well”.

“Tell him, please,” Marc begged one last time and Steven took in a deep breath, caving in. “I will.”

A few days have gone by and you haven’t spoken to Steven or seen him around. Although it was spring break and it made sense to be busy, it worried you as he would always let you know beforehand. The last time you saw him was when you both studied at the library and you wondered if it had something to do with that. The guilt set in and you took in a shaky breath, trying not to get too lost in your thoughts. You were taking a stroll downtown, looking at different shops that caught your interest. You found yourself lost in the bookstore, mesmerized by the different novels that were in stock. The comic book section had also caught your eye, debating whether or not you wanted to buy another issue but realized you had plenty at home.

As you left the store you were in, you saw a familiar figure walk past you. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint it but his presence felt familiar and you looked over at him, deciding to follow behind. He was wearing a cap and a gray button-up that was unbuttoned, being used for layering for the black shirt underneath.

You wanted to keep a safe distance between you two as you didn’t want to seem like a creep, just in case you didn’t know him. He then walked into a shop, a steakhouse to be exact, and you stood outside for a minute. You contemplated whether or not to go in as for one, this wasn’t Steven. He doesn’t even eat meat and two, you already seemed suspicious. Snapping out of your thoughts, you glanced up at the window and made eye contact with him as he sat down. It was Steven, or so you thought. He immediately got up and rushed out of the store, trying to get away as quickly as he could.

“Steven! Wait, Steven!” you called out and followed him, immediately being able to catch up. You swiftly grabbed his arm, stopping him right in his tracks, and made him look at you.

He seemed different. His posture was straightened and he carried himself as if he was more confident yet reserved. Steven avoided eye contact with you and tried to get himself away from your grasp.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in almost a week, are you alright?” you asked, your concern growing as each second passed. “I’m fine,” he replied coldly and it didn’t seem like him at all. Steven would reply in a bubbly tone even if he was upset and right now he had an American accent. It's as if he changed himself all of a sudden.

“I just wanted to check up on you...” you replied, awkwardly letting go of the grip you had on his arm. He immediately pulled away and walked off, not bothering to chase him since it seemed as if he needed some space.

“Marc.. why would you do that!” Steven exclaimed through the reflection of the window that Marc would walk by.

“Listen, I freaked out and I wasn’t thinking clearly— Call him when we get home,” he murmured to himself and Steven sighed, disappearing as Marc exited downtown and made his way to their flat.

After the interaction with Steven, you quickly left to go back to your apartment. You felt horrible as if you messed up that badly on that one evening in the library. You wanted to ask questions, you wanted to be mad but you knew that wouldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even look at you. It’s as if he changed in a week, he wasn’t the same person you knew and fell in love with. You also found it odd that his accent changed, and it made you wonder if he had been pretending to be someone else this whole time.

You plopped down on your bed and opened up a comic book, trying to distract your mind from what happened today. Until you felt your phone buzzing, looking at it in confusion as you didn’t expect anyone to call you today. You then picked up your phone and saw the caller ID, it was Steven. You took a deep breath before you answered, “Hello? Are you alright?” you asked.

“Hi, yes I’m fine. Do you mind coming over? I have to talk to you about something if that’s alright?” Steven’s accent was back and he spoke softly, just like the boy you fell in love with. At first, you wanted to say no but you didn’t want to mess it up even further. You replied with a quick “Okay” and hung up after he said thank you.

You raced down the streets of London, trying to get to Steven’s flat as soon as possible. You felt pathetic for giving in so easily after how he treated you earlier that day. Answers. That’s all you wanted, was to be given answers and not be left out in the dark anymore. You had a lot of questions to ask him but mostly wondered why he invited you to come out of nowhere.

Deciding to save the questions for later, you turned the corner to where Steven’s building is located and rushed to the elevator. The anxiety began to kick in as you felt anxious to find out the truth and you weren’t ready to hear what he had to say. What if..? You shook your head and cleared your throat, wiped the sweat off your forehead, and walked out of the elevator when it reached his floor with a “ding”.

“Steven?” you softly called out for him, knocking gently yet loud enough so that he could hear it. You heard shuffling and rummaging through the door, raising your eyebrows in concern yet confusion.

“Oh, bollocks! Coming!” he explained and you suppressed a giggle as you heard him stumble, knowing that he almost tripped over as there was a loud “thud” that meant he caught himself.

Steven opened the door and you were greeted with his usual charming smile. You glanced up at his eyes and they looked at you softly, as if he held in a lot of guilt for what had happened. He moved to the side to let you in and you stepped through the door, realizing this was the first time you’d seen his flat. It was cozy and there were lots of books lying around. Quite spacious too... And he had a fish? That’s so adorable.

He closed the door and followed closely behind you, glancing at which direction you were looking towards.

“I’m sorry,” he piped up and you turned around to look at him, seeing his shoulders drop and his head hung low. “I never meant to hurt you, I just had something going on..” you cut him off by pulling him into a loving hug, holding him close to you. Steven buried his face into your shoulder and you felt him slowly weep in your arms. You rubbed his back in response, doing your best to comfort him.

He repeated incoherent words, all you could make out was “I’m sorry” and you hushed him, leading him to his bed to sit him down. There was a pile of sand that surrounded his bed, which you found quite odd and restraints were hanging on the posts. You didn’t want to think about what that could potentially mean, as you felt slight jealousy erupt from within.

You held him there and rocked him back and forth, rubbing his back gently as you tried to calm him down. It hurt to see him this way and he clung to you, satisfied with the fact he trusts you.

“Steven, talk to me. What’s going on?” you asked, gently trying to lift his head and have him look up at you. He obliged and slowly looked up, the sight of it breaking your heart. His eyes were red and his face was flushed. Tears kept coming out and you wiped them away, mumbling “It's okay, I’m here” over and over again to comfort him.

“I need to tell you something and I..I’ve been putting it off, thinking you’re going to judge me. I’m sorry..” he stammered and began fidgeting with his hands. You were slightly anxious, not knowing what this could be. You gave him a nod, signaling that it’s okay to keep going and you’re still listening to him.

“Uh.. for starters, when you saw me out there... That wasn’t me.” he paused for a minute, pursed his lips together, and spoke again, “I have this condition, it’s DID, dissociative identity disorder.”

You looked at him, your gaze softening up. You could never judge him, especially for something like this.

“I...I’m an alter, the one you met is Marc. The host.” his hands began shaking and you immediately took them in your own, gently caressing them, “Something happened back in his childhood and that’s how I was created... I’m different, we’re both different"

“So.. you avoided me because of that?” you asked and you cupped his face, making him look at you. Steven took in a deep breath and nodded, tears starting to formulate in his eyes once again.

“Yeah— Listen, I’m still me.. just expect to see someone else at random points of the day,” he began to stumble upon his own words, frantically trying to explain himself. You then brought his face closer to yours to have him look at you, trying to calm him down. “I love you, Steven. All of you”.

“You love me?” he asked, with slight confusion and curiosity. He couldn’t believe that you loved him that much, as this was the first time he was receiving proper care from someone else.

“I do, all of you” you replied and began closing the space between you two, your faces only an inch away from each other. You whispered, “May I?”

“Please,” he mumbled and you closed up the space between you both, kissing him. His lips felt soft against yours and you moved in synchrony. Your hand made its way to the back of his nape, pulling him close to you and he hummed in response against your lips. After a good minute or two, you both pulled away to catch your breath and looked at each other. The way Steven’s eyes lit up and his pupils dilated, made you feel some sort of contentment that he knew the truth and so did you.

You took his hands and held them together, gently playing with them as you soothed his nerves. You figured that was something hard to confess to someone, scared of the judgment you’d face because of it. “Steven..” you began to speak, causing the other to look up at you, “you don’t ever have to worry about this. I will never judge you, and I want to do more research to educate myself further. Or you can tell me about it.” saying this caused him to tear up, making your own eyes well up in tears. You then began whispering soft affirmations to him and gently cupped his face with both hands, using your thumbs to wipe away his tears. He immediately leaned into your touch, looking up at you with those beautiful brown doe eyes that you love. You kissed him once again, just to reassure him and ease his mind.

“Thank you... This truly means a lot to me– To us..” The sudden change in the accent made your head tilt but did not question it as this could be something you’d need to get used to. You figured you were talking to Marc and judging by his body language, you were right. Marc sat up straight with his shoulders tensed as if he needed to keep his guard up. However, his gaze on you differed from the rest of his demeanor; he looked at you with love and care.

“Hey, I’m Marc– I’m sorry for earlier..” the way he spoke was low and it felt quite intimidating as you were used to Steven’s bubbly tone. It was clear that he spoke from his chest as the sound was thick and stern, yet soft and loving.

“I understand, Marc. It’s nice to meet you.” you carefully grabbed his hand, not wanting to startle him just in case as you were not aware of his reactions. Marc stiffened to the touch but softened up, as soon as he felt your touch. Your skin felt soft yet rough and that alone felt comforting to him.

He brought the back of your hand up to his lips, peppering it in kisses along with your knuckles. “Thank you for understanding and loving us.. regardless of our condition."

“Of course— This changes nothing. Although I want to get to know you more, that’s all” you beamed and he gave you a shy smile, noticing how flushed his face got.

“Sure. First, would you like a drink?” he asked and he stood up from the bed, making his way to the kitchen. You followed behind him as he brought two cups out, realizing he already knew what you liked to drink when you and Steven would go out.

“Just the usual” you sarcastically replied and rolled your eyes, earning a laugh from Marc. You felt your stomach turn, as his voice sounded lovely but hearing his laughter did it for you even further. You then stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his shoulder. This made Marc stop in his tracks for a few seconds but continued, humming in contentment.

“Marc, I want my turn later.” Steven huffed from a nearby mirror and he laughed to himself, nodding his head in agreement. You didn’t question it though, as you figured he might’ve been communicating with the other since he glanced over at the mirror.

When he finished, he handed you your drink and led you both to the table to talk. “Thank you for remembering, even if it’s simple.” you placed your cup down after taking a sip and he smiled at you. “Of course, I paid attention to a lot of details you gave Steven, or us for the past several months of knowing you.”

This made you feel important to him because he took the time to remember details about you, even if they are minor. For the rest of the evening, the both of you talked and opened up about each other’s past and got to know one another even further. Even though he knew you, he wanted to connect with you on a different level. And you did. It felt refreshing to be around Marc, he and Steven were completely different yet the same. You found comfort in this and you can easily tell them apart, accepting them just for how they are. This deepened the connection you had with the boys as you further talked, not realizing that it got late. You glanced up at the clock and it read midnight and you yawned as you leaned back onto your chair.

“It’s late, do you want to sleep here?” he asked as he put away the cups and you looked around, their bed calling out for you as it looked so comfortable to be in. The thought of cuddling up with Marc at this time of night made you feel excited.

“If you’d let me, yes..” you mumbled and Marc grinned, being happy with your decision. He then began fluffing up the pillows, trying his best to make the pillows look presentable. You walked over and sat down, removing your sweatshirt and your pants. You were only left in your shirt and boxers, unable to sleep with any more layers regardless of how cold it was. Marc watched you remove your layers and he stared at your back in awe, as your shirt pressed against your muscles which exposed your build. He gulped, mentally tracing the bumps and memorizing how broad your shoulders were.

You slightly turned your head and through your peripheral vision, you noticed Marc was staring at you like a hawk in the night. “Like what you see?” you playfully teased him and he turned away, slightly embarrassed you saw that. You pulled the cover back and got in bed, Marc following you right after. You propped your arm up, leaning your head against the palm of your hand to look at him. He gave you a soft smile and did the same thing, pulling the covers over his shoulder right after.

“What is that... Is that some kinky thing or–” You pointed at the cuffs that were tied to the bedpost and he pursed his lips together, eyes widened. “Oh, that uh... So. At night Steven would “sleepwalk” although that was just me taking control.” he then pointed at the sand on the floor next to you, “hence why he put sand to track whether or not he left. And the door is taped for extra measures. It’s been years since it happened, just never thought to get rid of it. Just an inside joke, I suppose.”

You nodded and asked, “Was he not aware of your presence?” he shook his head, “It’s complicated. Remember that other stuff I told you when I was younger? He just never came to his senses. So it's a bit fresh..” Marc then laid down, staring up at the ceiling and you looked over at him. You felt bad as if you just reopened a wound that had been taking its time to heal. You laid on your back as well, motioning for him to come lay in your arms. At first, he hesitated but gave in as he could use that comfort. Marc nestled his face into the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breath against it. You soothed him by rubbing his back and running your fingers through his dark curls.

“You’re safe here Marc... I’ve got you both,” you whispered against his temple and placed a kiss on it right after. You continued to hold him as the both of you drifted off to sleep, contentment filling your hearts.

Hours had gone by and you groaned, slowly opening your eyes and the grogginess hit you. You looked at your phone to check the time and it was only 9am, it was a decent time although the sleep you had gotten felt like it wasn’t enough. However, the time you spent with Marc was worth it. You turned over to face the other man and to your surprise, you were greeted with a smile as he was already up.

“Good morning..” It was Steven. You lifted your body slightly to be able to kiss him on his nose, then immediately buried your face back into the soft sheets. Steven gently rubbed your back, placing soft kisses on your temple and down your back. You leaned into this touch and murmured incoherent words under your breath, earning a chuckle from the other. You slowly felt your body drift back to unconsciousness, as Steven’s words began fading out of your hearing. Until you had heard him say, “We’d like you to be our boyfriend.”

You immediately opened an eye, lifting your head off of the sheets, and looked at him with one eye closed and the other twitching in response. He let out a laugh by accident from watching your reaction and he cleared his throat right after, not wanting to make you feel embarrassed even if it was funny.

“Are you serious?”, you asked, and sat up as Steven moved closer to you. “Or are you just trying to get me to wake up?” you pushed his face away gently and he giggled, placing a kiss on your palm as you did that.

“No, this is real. Although the setting isn’t as romantic, we’d love you to be ours.. please. If you’d like.” he took your hands into his and caressed it gently. He then put it up to his lips and began kissing it all over, making you smile and you placed a kiss on his forehead in return.

“Oh Steven, of course. I’ve been wanting this for so long. I would love to be.” You gently placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you, engulfing him in a sweet kiss. He pulled your body closer to him and wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close.

“I love you” he murmured against your lips and you pulled away as you rested your forehead against his.

“I love you.”

#— zeppelin’s files 📁#marc spector x male reader #steven grant x male reader #male reader #mlm writing #mlm fluff #moon knight x reader #steven grant x m!reader #steven grant x male reader x marc spector #marvel #fluff

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cooloddball · 3 years

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I woke up to see a lot of people saying that they no longer believe in cockles because of the Gish zoom reunion and a very long ask on the same. I was skeptical to watch it at first but some very nice people @green-blue-heller and @thegandy told me it was an amazing panel. Well, ladies, the peer pressure worked and I watched it. I have to say, that panel was the most adorable zoom panel they've had together. It was 20 minutes of pure joy and serotonin boost on my pant. So thank you.

Now back to the panel. I watched this video from the official Gish YouTube account so that's what I'll be referring to. I don't know if there are any other videos but well, let's go.

Let me be honest, waiting for the ceremony to begin, I was nervous. These two are total chaos together so I was already suffering from second-hand embarrassment way before it began.

Jensen being an old man who doesn’t understand technology will never not be funny to me because this guy has been in Hollywood since he was 18 and you would think he would know how to operate a camera.

What’s happening with your face, ‘I can’t.” who taught you that lingo, Jensen? It’s very hip.

Misha pretending not to know that he had that filter on, yeah sure Jan.

Jensen’s excitement when he saw Misha’s face. Can someone please look at me like that? I mean I don’t have big beautiful blue eyes like Misha but still—c’mon.

Is it just me or was it more like they were flirting while talking about the whole "how’s filming going?"

Mish saying, “Early on you were worried that you gonna have to act professional.” Is it just me or does this sound like pillow talk?

They look so happy to be together again even if it's not in person.

Misha knows Jensen won’t go back to the States until June. How do you know Misha?

Misha calling Jensen Buddy?Man?Dude? Is it just me or is Misha trying way too hard to call Jensen all the dude-bro names that he can come up with?

The look Jensen has on his face when talking about JJ’s birthday

Jensen is so handsome.

Why was the conversation about Jensen technically being a Canadian so funny? is it an inside joke that we missed or? Misha is literally just saying that Jensen is technically a Canadian having lived there for almost 20 years.

Their conversation flows very naturally. It’s not forced or anything.

Jensen hulking out. Yum. I'm looking respectively, please.

"It's like hat head on your face."

The hat head comment is followed by Misha saying, "jensen, I miss you so much, man"

And Jensen saying, "you too brother" then immediately segues to talking about texting Jared and how they all can’t all wait to be together. Not weird at all. Also, is it just me or does Misha look kinda ‘not happy about that? Not in a bad way but maybe he wanted Jensen to say he misses him too?

Misha knows Jensen stoic about showing emotion. Yeah, they know each other well. Misha calling out Jensen for not showing emotion- performing masculinity and Jensen agreeing.

The silent disco moment was lit.

Are they moving closer to the camera?

Also, Misha showing a sliver of skin. Yes show your man your titties on main Misha why don’t you?

Also, Jensen pretending not to know who Jewel is when they clearly know each other. He was even and has even been on her show with Dee. See, this is how he acts. This is to all the people who say he and Misha are not friends because he doesn't know anything about his organizations. That's just how he is. He likes playing coy and grumpy.

Why did Misha specifically ask if his [Jensen's] family was still Colorado?

In regard to Jewel? He could’ve just said “she’s from Colorado too” It’s either,

he wanted people to know where Jensen’s family was which doesn’t make sense, or

he wanted us to know that he didn’t know where they are which is also weird like guys you don't have to try so hard to prove you don't know each other's whereabouts.

They are so in sync even on a zoom call. What do they say about old habits? Keep moving closer why don't you?

That hand sign Jensen did. Did Misha teach him that? Misha does that sign a lot.

Beard grooming regimen. Yes, Jensen come through for the beard growers. Thank you Misha for that question btw.

When Charlie said Jensen uses a horse brush on his beard.

Misha is so cute guys. Wtf? Also his eyes. Misha’s nose crinkles when he laughs and Jensen’s eye crinkles when he laughs.

Jensen talking about his beard was freaking hilarious.

When Misha is showing his greys Jensen keeps moving closer to the screen as if he will see better or touch it the closer he gets to the screen.

"See this is what happens when I don't see you for the better part of the year." So it means you have seen him between May last year and May this year, right? Tell us more.

What does for the better part of a year mean?

It means more than half. The better part of a year could be used to describe a period of seven to eleven months. It's typically used to give emphasis to how long something took. Like many idioms (keep an eye on something, face me, smell a rat) it isn't literal.

Misha saying he’s going grey because he is incredibly stressed out for not seeing Jensen for a while. That laugh and the awkward pause after Misha said that. And Jensen agreeing

Misha, you know about the album. This is just marketing for your husband’s album. We saw you liked that post of the album post so don't play coy now.

Jensen asking Misha where he is? Okay, hear me out. This is weird because when they organized the zoom, they had to talk about Time zones, right? So, why wouldn’t he know where Misha is?- performing masculinity, again.

Jensen camped in Ojai and calls it a special place. Reminds me of how they talked about the Vatican being magical when a priest conducted a mass for just the two of them under the Lucifer and Micahel mural.

Misha wants to go to Marfa really badly. Did your husband share those gorgeous photos with you? Jensen please put them up. We wanna see. And take your husband to Marfa once you are back home.

Love you, my friend. Misha finally said he loves him back, live on video.

Wait, Misha is trying to end the conversation but Jensen keeps on interrupting so he can linger on. Hmm..

I swear Jensen said okay babe. The way his lips moved to form the /b/ sound. He said it people.

Jensen stop lingering.

Why did Jensen say he’s going to sit on the couch for the rest of the day? Did he want Misha to tell him to join them for the hunt?

Misha is texting Jensen right? Because his whole demeanor changed when Jensen left and got this serious look on his face. You can clearly see it's like he received a text right after Jensen logged off and he had to respond.

Charlie is so cute.

Overall, I think this panel was sweet and flirty, and fun. Jensen calling Misha brother had the same effect as Misha calling him man/dude/my friend. Did people expect Jensen to call him sweetheart throughout the panel when clearly this was an event that people who are not even in the spn fandom are watching from all over the world? C'mon. But in the end, he called him babe so there's that.

I'm also happy that they didn't talk about the show because it shows their friendship is more than just about that shit show (affectionate) that was spn.

#cockles #cockles gish reunion 2021 #i think this panel was neat and wonderful #i couldn't stop smiling #i don't know what people were expecting ti happen but i was not disappointed #gish fest

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chateautae · 3 years

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flirt | pjm. (m)

➵ summary : park jimin is a notorious flirt, but so are you. when you both meet at a party after weeks of back and forth, it’s a matter of time before somebody gives in

➵ pairing : jimin x reader

➵ genre : college!au, sexual tension, smut, pwp

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 4k

➵ warnings : super suggestive flirting, alcohol consumption (both parties able to consent), swearing, light dom and sub themes, soft dom!jimin, brat!reader, little bit of brat-handling, dirty talk, praising but also degradation? it’s hot i promise, use of slut, slight body worshipping, mentions of oral, jimin is hot and yes that’s a warning in itself, breast play, unprotected sex, penetrative + rough sex, bit of angsty sex, creampie cause i seem to not like it any other way

➵ a/n : and my first jimin fic is here!! dear god i love this boy to the moon and back so i got a bit carried with him lmao, hopefully this isn’t terrible cause i still need to edit it but your support and feedback are always appreciated!! <3

2 hours.

2 hours since you first came to this party. You’ve bumped into at least a hundred people, danced your legs numb, God knew how many and what concoction of drinks were inebriating your system and still, you hadn’t seen Park Jimin the whole night.

The only reason you even dragged yourself to this party was because of him. You were initially bailing on the annual ‘one-last-hurrah-before-midterms’ party because you, like everyone else here had midterms haunting them Monday. It was Friday night and as the ever diligent student, you were planning to study over the weekend.

Though your nagging best friend Hoseok had other plans, threatening you to come with every piece of dirt he had on you until he finally sprinkled Jimin’s name into the mix. You couldn’t lie, it was the only reason you decided to hell with your education, wiggled into a barely-there dress and waltzed in with Hoseok ready to take the night on.

But when you hadn’t seen Jimin at all, you were left annoyed, pissed off and with a headache raking your brain.

Seeing him was a selfish desire, one you’d develop after realizing you had met your match when you first encountered Jimin. You were always fairly notorious for your flirtatious habits and touchiness, a sort of trademark of yours and the same was always said about a ‘Park Jimin’ unknown to you, sometimes described to be an even bigger flirt.

It automatically intrigued you, curious of what kind of rival you secretly harbored until one day, you chanced upon Hoseok who just so happened to be with Jimin.

At first, you didn't think Jimin could be a daring flirt. He had this sweet smile and disciplined way of speaking that screamed innocent to you, his mannerisms and demeanor shy and introverted. He didn’t make big moves and so you wrote him off as just that.

But it wasn’t until you started seeing him outside your class’ building, alone, and multiple times after that, enough for you to realize he was anything but shy or innocent.

You ended up observing that a) he was sex on legs, b) easily flipped between the persona of an angel and a demon and c) anything he did could seem flirting.

You two hit it off without a hitch, your flirtatious tendencies meeting to form a relationship of mutual interest. It was clear as day, both your actions almost always held some sort of unknown intentions behind them, your every saying a double meaning.

It became the norm between you two, anytime you met turning into a conversation riddled with innuendos, suggestive lip-biting or eyes that couldn’t help but wander. And you weren't stupid, you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You two were dangerous, testing the limits of either’s control, hoping someone would give in and only left disappointed when nobody did.

So when Hoseok mentioned this party, and graciously added Park Jimin’s name to it, you knew this was your chance. A party with buzzing bodies, loud music and copious amounts of alcohol was bound to set him off, especially if you were dressed scandalously and felt bolder with liquid courage pumping through your system.

But it’d been 2 hours, and you hadn’t seen him all night. You were taking another shot in the kitchen, sulking by yourself and reflecting on the fact that you’d been duped by Hoseok. This party became useless to you, a mere waste of your time as you quickly discarded your cup and began stomping out of the kitchen.

You ventured further into the house to look for Hoseok’s 5’10 ass, tell him he’s the worst best friend for lying to you and that you were leaving this disappointment of a party.

You stepped around people mindfully, dodging them until you rammed smack dab into someone’s back, scrambling for an apology before looking at the unaffected victim.

Park fucking Jimin.

“Y/N!” Jimin beamed, holding a drink in his hand as he smiled widely.

“Jimin, hey! I thought you didn’t come tonight.” You attempted biting back your smile from finally finding him, shouting over the bass of the music as you met him on the dance floor.

“I just ran late. You know me, of course I’d be here!” Jimin raised his drink to his plump lips and sipped, stepping side-to-side in rhythm with the music.

You couldn’t make him out that well, the disco lights of whatever lights system the only means of seeing him in the dark, but you swear the smirky grin on his face as he scanned you over wasn’t just a figment of your imagination, ecstatic that you already seemed to be reeling him in. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, I already had-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as someone’s raging body stumbled into yours suddenly, sending you off balance until Jimin reached out for you cautiously.

“Woah, easy there.” Jimin’s arms quickly held you, flashing a scolding look at the person who bumped into you and pulling you towards himself. “Are you here with someone tonight?”

“Yeah, Hoseok! I was looking for him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I.. wasn’t having fun, so I wanted to leave with him.” You swiftly masked the real truth, your voice becoming less of a shout as Jimin encased you, just a few centimeters between your bodies as you peered up at him, cheeks flushed with heat and alcohol.

“Leave with him? Damn, didn’t know you two were like that.” Jimin flashed you a suggestive look, raising his eyebrows.

“Shut up, you know we’re just best friends.” You both erupted into a fit of chuckles as you hit his chest, your hand smacking against his jacket and now that you were close, registered what a meal he looked like tonight; ripped black jeans, plain white t-shirt underneath a distressed jean jacket, all pulled together sexily by his tousled hair, small hoop earrings and a Chanel necklace decorating his neck.

Dear God, how many times you’ve ached to kiss that pretty, pretty neck.

You internally groaned, habitually drawing closer to him as you enjoyed the warmth of his body, nostrils filling with the familiar scent of his intoxicating cologne.

“So I hear you wanna have some fun.” Jimin perked up, eyes amused and hands smoothing over your sides slowly after faltering from your arms.

“Are you suggesting I’ll have fun with you?”

“Of course, gorgeous, but up to you how we do that.” Jimin stepped dangerously closer to you as his voice lowered, your face tucked into his chest as his body blocked other people from touching you.

Excitement shot to your center at his use of a pet name, a common occurrence during your exchanges though his choices of which always an added thrill.

“And what if I just want to leave and eat at a diner instead?”

“Then I’d definitely take you, food and you? A win in my book.”

You cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Adding me to the mix suddenly makes it a win? I’m not the one on the menu, Park.”

Jimin’s eyes seem to blow out, leaning down as his plushy lips ghosted your ear as he spoke, tone darkened, “We can change that, princess.”

A thrill shot throughout your body, hyper aware of his lips mere inches from your face as your heart began to race, turning towards him expectantly.

You began advancing slowly to decrease the gap between your mouths, feeling him inch forward in response, letting him hover just above your lips for a tease before you stopped, “I’d like to see you try, Park.”

Then you abruptly turned out of his hold and walked away, making it through a few people into a hallway, allowing yourself to breathe. You loved teasing Jimin, it was an incredibly entertaining pass time but dear God, did it knock the fucking wind out of you.

You were mentally recuperating from the fact that he almost let you kiss him, distracted as you stepped away until someone suddenly snatched your arm and pinned you against the nearest wall. You were honestly shocked to see Jimin, surprised he actually took your bait and stayed on your trail to stop you. His dancing eyes held nothing but greed, evident even in the darkness of the party.

“You know just how to test people, don’t you?” Jimin warned as he narrowed his dangerous eyes at you, holding your hot-skinned wrists against the cool wall.

“Of course I do, it makes things fun and last time I checked,” You brought your face to his and left only an inch between you two, “that’s just what I want.”

Jimin visibly grew less tamed, glancing down towards your lips as he tried breathing controllably, “Careful what you wish for, princess. It might come true.”

“And if that’s what I want?” You titled your head expectantly, licking your lips as you watched Jimin bite his own. He eyed you the whole time, making it a statement to drink you in every inch of you.

You could smell the alcohol on him, assuming liquor was the only driving force behind his actions but then contemplated his level-headedness, his coherent speech and clear judgment in this moment.

Jimin was choosing to chase after you, choosing to not let you go after weeks of incessant back and fourth and you knew you were finally getting closer to exactly what you wanted.

Park Jimin giving in.

“You’re fucking hot.” Jimin commented, eyes eating you up hungrily.

“You’re hotter.” You grinned and leaned back against the wall, cleavage unintentionally popping out for him and Jimin’s look immediately shifted, bringing his body closer against yours.

“You look submissive as hell right now, is that what you like? To be dominated?”

“Only if you like to dominate.”

Jimin could feel the reigns on his control snapping, biting down to contain his raw desire to fuck you. He’s been holding himself back, knowing you seemed willing on your end of the interactions but never wanting to take the leap in case it was all just an act.

But as he watched you go along with his every comment, staring back at him with the same devious eyes and practically offering yourself to him in his hold, he knew you weren’t acting at all.

“You talk a big game, but can you put your money where your mouth is?” Jimin leaned his hips against yours, ensuring you could feel his growing hardness.

“My mouth can do a lot of fucking things, Park.” You jutted your hips into his.

Jimin shut his eyes frustratedly before he re-opened them, a downright obsidian colour taking them over.

“Go the fuck upstairs.”

“Wh-”

“I said, go the fuck upstairs.” Jimin demanded, looking at you with conviction so searing you in fact did become submissive.

“W-which room-” You didn’t complete your question as Jimin’s deft hands encased you and lifted you off the ground, bridal-style.

“Jimin-!” You exclaimed.

“Say another word and I’ll make sure you feel me in your throat.”

You immediately swallowed your mouth shut as Jimin cluthed you to him, core alighting with desire as he carried you up the stairs. Jimin arrived at the second floor and rushed towards the first room with an ajar door, shutting it with your feet after entering.

He made towards the bed and practically threw you onto it, stepping away to lock the door before leaning against it, arms crossed and serious.

“You sure you want this?” His voice came out considerate, no haste or pressure.

“Yes, Jimin.”

“You’re completely sure?”

You nodded incessantly.

“I need your words, Y/N.”

“Yes.” You affirmed, unintentionally becoming submissive as you awaited him, and Jimin couldn't resist you, not any longer. He made towards your smaller figure on the bed and immediately crashed his lips onto yours, knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned over you, splaying you onto the bed.

He held your wrists against the sheets, kissing you open as his plump lips worked tirelessly against your mouth. He continued to swallow you, opening up to catch all of you as he sank further downwards to feel your body arch into his.

His wet tongue glided over your lips and you welcomed him in lightspeed, letting his muscle entangle with yours hastily and you instantly loved the taste of him.

Jimin’s kisses began deepening, exploring your mouth like he was dehydrated and your mouth was fresh water. His thigh began pressing against your core and you moaned into his mouth as Jimin disconnected from you, panting for air.

“Don’t fucking do that.” He voiced frustratedly, his full lips swollen and pink as he tried to contain himself.

“Do what?”

“Fucking moan, it does shit to me.”

“Sucks for you, I’m responsive as fuck.” You snipped as his sudden confession made you hot, squishing your thighs together. Jimin took notice and he flashed a look at your core.

“Responsive, huh?” Jimin let go of your wrist, sliding his hand down your body before pressing his fingers to your heat through your dress. You instantly gasped, arching as you felt your walls clench around absolutely nothing.

“J-Jimin.” you warned him weakly.

“Mm?” Jimin paid no attention as he lowered himself to your neck and began kissing, tonguing, sucking at a spot that had you cowering and squirming underneath him.

You groaned as your free hand tangled into his hair, hugging him to your neck as you basked in the glory of his plush lips devouring you. He was laving and nibbling at your skin, continuously kissing the area of your carotid all while rubbing his hand against your clothed cunt. Jimin began rutting his body against yours, the tip of his cock prodding you the more he moved.

“Fuck you, Jimin. This isn’t fair.” You moaned breathlessly

“As fair as it gets, princess. You wanted to see my try, yeah?” Jimin suddenly stopped his movements on your core and slid his hand up your bare thigh, only to shift your stained panties to the side and glide his fingers all over your bare pussy. You gasped Jimin’s name and tugged at his hair harshly, the alcohol hazing everything over with sensitivity and trying to sustain the sheer amount of pleasure he was rewarding you.

“N-nothing’s fair about this.”

Jimin smoothed the pads of his fingers over your slick core, eliciting your incessant gasps, “Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.”

He was leaving purple marks all along your neck and chest, moving down to the valley of your breasts and you whined headily, hating that he had such an advantage in this position.

You immediately grew bold enough to push him off by his chest, detaching him as Jimin looked at you confused. “Y/N, what the fu-” was all Jimin could get out before you stood up and gripped his cock through his pants, his breath immediately hitching. He looked at you with surprised eyes, growing weaker in your hold as you walked him back against a vanity in the room.

You had no clue who this room belonged to, but you could care less when you were minutes away from getting fucked by Park Jimin.

He let out breathy little moans as you palmed him, shutting his eyes in bliss as he turned harder by the second, leaning back against the counter. You planted your lips to his neck and mouthed fervently, making sure you embellished his skin with your desire for him. “F-fuck. Y/N, this isn’t fair.”

“Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.” You mocked him and began rubbing at his shaft, sucking hickies onto his pretty neck and licking over the areas your teeth grazed. Jimin continued groaning, hugging you close to him as he fisted his hands against your body, trying everything to cherish the pleasure he felt.

The person he’s been desiring ever since he heard about you, his every nerve thrilled by your ability to counter him, match his energy of constant flirting and testing the waters, venturing further than him sometimes.

You were just so tempting and Jimin wanted every last bit of you.

That sentiment increased when he felt your hands snake towards the belt of his jeans, unbuckling harshly with need so apparent he wanted nothing but to stuff your walls, now.

“No, fuck off, getting inside you first.” Jimin denied your hands, capturing them in his hold.

You instantly whined, “But Jimin, want you to fuck my face.” You pouted into his neck, kissing along his collar bones as you rutted against him.

“Fucking God, I’m destroying you for that.” Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and switched the positions, shoving you against the vanity, your ass on the edge of the counter as Jimin stood in between your spread out legs, lips meeting yours again.

Jimin lifted the skirt of your dress up and over your backside, pooling around your waist as his hands slid over your fleshy thighs to the band of your panties. He pulled only to snap them back against your skin, the contact making you gasp.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing these?”

“And why the fuck are you still wearing clothes?” You chastised, hands greedily shoving his jacket off him even with your mouth attached to his.

Jimin didn’t allow the action to compromise your kiss either, practically ripping his jacket off and breathing hard against you as he threw it away. He then pulled his t-shirt over himself, revealing his toned, lean body underneath and only leaving his Chanel necklace hanging over his bare chest. You licked your lips at the sight of his smooth and pretty body, the outline of his abs like a work of art.

You reached out to touch him, his face and skin flushed with lust as he watched you. “You’re so hot, Jimin, so pretty.” You praised, eyes ogling him.

Jimin smirked proudly before speaking, “Your turn.”

He searched for the zipper of your dress and unzipped hastily, peeling away the top to reveal your naked breasts and now it was his turn to ogle at you.

“Fuck me, you’re prettier.” He huffed out, eyes blown out entirely.

“Probably not as pretty as your cock, let me suck.” You pouted playfully and pulled him closer to you with the back of your shins, hands greedily feeling up his bare chest.

“Only good girls get to suck my dick.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you’re a fucking brat and a half.” Jimin started kneading your breasts, licking his lips as he watched you spread your legs wider for him and lean your head back out of pure bliss.

“I am not a brat, you just fucking take 10 years to get it on.” You snapped back, moaning in between at the way he groped your breasts, rolling the buds of your nipples with his fingertips.

“Sorry I was a fucking gentleman, didn’t know you were such a cock-hungry slut.” Jimin bit as he planted his thick lips to your perched nipple, eliciting curses from you as his tongue began swirling around, sucking teasingly.

“You just can’t fuck, isn’t it? All bark and no bite?”

Jimin scoffed darkly at that, sucking harder on your sensitive nipples before letting go with a pop. “I’ll fucking break you is why I kept holding off, you’ll regret this, princess.”

“Break me then, Jimin, please. Fuck me like you say you will, I need you.” Your arousal became unbearable as you grew hornier, rocking your hips against him for friction while he laved at either of your nipples.

“I will, baby. Get these off and I’ll fuck you so good.” Jimin tugged at your panties and you lifted your ass for him to discard them.

You unhooked Jimin’s belt and shoved into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans down until you finally freed his leaking length, thick and throbbing to be treated.

What you always thought was right, his cock was pretty just like him. You graciously pumped him, spreading his pre-cum over the head as you watched him lean his head back, kissing under his jaw.

“So pretty, Jimin, just like you.”

Jimin stopped caring about any and everything and instantly grabbed one of your legs, spreading you wide open for him and situated himself before your entrance.

He brought a hand over yours pumping his member and moved you quicker against his hot flesh, looking down at the lewd scene and your pretty pussy aching for him.

“Look at you soaking, baby, so much prettier.”

You moaned needily, the back of your shins urging Jimin closer to you again as you whined. “Jimin..”

“Raw?” he breathed impatiently.

“Fuck yes, birth control.”

Jimin didn’t even take a millisecond before he was pushing against your hole, placing the hand that was pumping his member now against your pelvic bone, pressing down to feel himself sink inside of you.

You instantly careened, moaning out so loud that if there wasn’t music blaring in the house, everyone would know how stuffed Jimin made you feel.

“Fuck-Jimin! Stop doing that, it feels too fucking good..!” You nearly cried, the pressure of Jimin’s hand making you feel any and every ridge, vein and hardness of his thick cock, your walls drinking him in.

“Fuck you, this is what you get.” Jimin blurted as he buried himself to the hilt, groaning satisfyingly at your warm walls hugging him before plunging to make out with you.

Jimin began fucking you with conviction, determination to drive you insane for him as he spread you open. He thrusted fast and hard from the get-go, neglecting to set a pace knowing how much of a cock-loving brat you were. His thumb resting just above your clit dipped down to lightly play with your bud, tease it, all the while licking into your mouth and thrusting into you.

You gasped hard, so much that Jimin’s name was the only thing coherent within them and he swallowed all your sounds with his lips. Your body was on fire at the drag of his cock, shocked at how wet you were when he hadn’t even fingered or eaten you out, his cock doing all the work, leaving you only thinking of Park Jimin’s sheer power.

You wanted all of him so badly, wanted him to ruin you, destroy you like he said he would, fuck you open like he always insinuated he would.

“Jimin, please, harder! Fuck me like the brat I am, teach me a fucking lesson.”

“Princess likes it hard, huh? Want me to fuck this pussy up? Make it all mine?” Jimin’s words were so filthy they had you clutching onto him tightly, arousal gushing from you as Jimin impaled you harder, snapping into you.

His thumb continued its onslaught, your walls convulsing to his every stroke as you gripped his shoulders and kissed him, biting his plushy bottom lip as he fucked you harder.

“Mm, Jimin, fuck!” Your tits bounced as he pounded into you, taking his every thrust like a champ and he damn well shook the entire vanity, continuously drilling your hole as he gave no room for mercy. Your hands snaked into his hair and tugged, making him groan in approval and he only pushed you open wider in response.

“You pretty brat, look at you getting what you want. Fucked like the cock-loving princess you are.” Jimin breathed against your mouth, his skin slicking with sweat as he worked tirelessly against your opening, battering your pussy with an unforgiving speed.

“You would’ve gotten your dick sucked, but apparently-” you shuddered breathily, “I w-wasn’t a good girl.” You felt weak from his repeated onslaught, the bubbling pleasure in your gut keeping you going.

“Yeah, so fucking behave and maybe I’ll let you choke on my dick.”

“Y-you stop playing games and maybe I’ll let you eat my pussy.”

Jimin only ticked his head to the side as he chuckled darkly, starting to propel his thick cock into your gut and raging at your clit so roughly, you gasped as you carved your pleasure into his skin. Jimin did the same as he bore his fingers into you, a hand squeezing your thigh harshly as he held your leg and your walls fluttered around him, moans growing higher in pitch.

“Jimin! I’m gonna-“ you didn’t even complete your sentence as your walls clamped around him, orgasm washing over you so quickly you barely realized it came. You clenched him like a vice and panted hard against his mouth, Jimin finally coming undone as well, spurts of cum painting your insides and filling you to the brim, certain he’d leak out of you for hours.

You felt stuffed, so full of him you were hazed over with post-orgasm bliss, mind unwinding from any trifling matter on Earth. Your forehead slacked against his shoulder as you both panted for air, sweating as Jimin held your weak body in his arms.

His cock remained shoved inside you, the throbbing letting up on both of you as your highs settled down.

“You..” Jimin swallowed dryly, breathing. “took me like a good girl. Maybe you can suck me off next time.”

“Next time?” You breathed labourly, turning your face towards his.

Jimin peered down at you resting against him, biting back a grin. “Of course, there’s always a next time with flirts like us.”

#thebtswritersclub #jimin x reader #jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts smut #jimin scenario #jimin fanfiction #park jimin #park jimin college au #bangtanhq

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

Requests are still open? If so, how about zhongli or kaeya with a GN reader that has trouble falling asleep? (bonus points if they look drowsy during daytime)

^ with the time change I’m feeling really sleepy most of the day. I would love for Zhongli to make me a cup of tea ... like I bet it's a treat.

Warning -> none :)

How about some tea?

Includes: Zhongli, Kaeya

Character X GN reader | Anthology

Zhongli

There is something about this man's level of knowledge and insight into the things around him that’s incredible - somehow he knows the strangest of things while nothing of the simplest of things

Ask him the price of a common item, he has no idea, but ask him why the sun dances across the sky and he will tell you a tale long forgotten to the sands of time

So it’s both surprising and not that he knows something is strange about you

“Your demeanor looks strange.” He states with his hand against his chin and head slightly tilted.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I just had a hard time sleeping last night is all.” You wave him away and continue with your task. You had started early with it, since you couldn’t sleep, and were nearly done.

“If you’d like, I could brew you some tea with valerian root. It has an interesting flavor, but will suffice.” He hasn’t really moved from his place throughout your whole conversation. He’s almost like a statue, one hand at his chin, the other resting against the small of his back.

“Uh, maybe.” You grab the large bag of items and lift it into your arms. You let out a sigh at its weight and try to shift it until it rests more comfortably in your arms. “I’ll get back to you.” With a warm smile, you give him a quick nod and head off.

You look back at him and he is still standing there, just as he was before.

Zhongli is a person who will keep his promises no matter what, even if you aren’t sure you created a promise with him

He can be very persistent and often takes people at their word - so when you see him show up later that day with all the material needed for a nice cup of tea, you shouldn’t be shocked

“Zhongli?” You stand with your hand on your door and the other in your hair. You had returned only shortly before he arrived and thought a nice shower would help refresh your mind.

“I was able to acquire the root I mentioned earlier today.” He’s just standing there, totally deadpan and serious. It makes you laugh.

“You didn’t need to go out of your way for that.” You say through laughter, the lightness of it lifting the atmosphere.

“I do recall I said I would brew you tea.”

“Yes, you did. Come in.”

You watch as he enters your home, something he hasn’t done very often. The two of you always found each other on the streets or walking along the harbor. Your relationship had always been friendly, and you enjoyed spending time with him. Truthfully, you longed for the relationship to be more. It somehow felt so domestic to see him moving through your kitchen with ease as if he’d lived there for years.

You sit at the counter and watch as he nimbly gets everything ready. The way he cuts the root into small pieces, the way he collects water in the teapot and sets it over the stove. The skillful way he organizes the loose leaves of the tea he’s brought which, you knew, would complement nicely with the valerian.

You enjoyed watching him as he prepared the tea. The simple process turned into an elegant orchestra of movement and execution. Once the water was at the right temperature, he poured the liquid into the cup and you watched as it turned a playful yellow.

Elegantly, he placed a saucer before you before resting the cup quietly in its place. You take in the fragrance and catch the hint of wood and sweet flowers.

“Do enjoy.” He gestured before following the same process to pour his own.

You bring the liquid to your lips and are surprised at how perfect the water temperature is. As the contents fill your mouth, you immediately sense the earthy taste. It’s overpowering, but only for a moment. Once the initial aroma passes there is a relief of sweetness and floral, which is quite refreshing.

“This is …” you pull your gaze from your cup before continuing, “kinda awesome.”

“And it is much better when spent in good company.” There is a warm smile on his face and you wonder if the liquid was making you warm or if it was him.

“I appreciate you doing this. It was nice of you.”

“My pleasure. I could sense you were in need of something.”

“I’ve just had a hard time sleeping lately, well, really most of the time.” You take another sip of the warm liquid.

“Mmm, perhaps there is something plaguing you?”

“Ha, not really. I’ve just always had a hard time sleeping at night. My mind won’t turn off I guess.” The soothing smell of the tea is starting to make your head heavy.

“If this aids you, then I am happy to teach you how to make it. Or do so myself if you wish.”

“Thank you, Zhongli.” You look back at the teacup and take a few more drinks before placing it on the saucer. Outside, you hear the citizens walking by and the distant shouting of those on the docks. Most of the time, you didn’t pay any attention to the sounds of the city, but today they seemed to be a soothing noise. Something about the way it all mixed and settled in your ears just felt right.

“It must be working.” You catch his eyes and turn your head. For some reason, his eyes seem more powerful than normal.

“It must be. I’m going to go rest on the couch for a minute.”

“Please do, I will clean up here.”

You settle into the couch and observe Zhongli from your place there. He’s already emptied your cup and cleaned it in the sink. His hands perfectly worked just the way he wanted them to. It feels like there are weights on your eyelids and it becomes harder and harder to keep them open.

The last thing you see is Zhongli standing in your kitchen drinking his cup of tea as he looks out the window.

Kaeya

He doesn’t let anything get past him, so he would definitely know something was up with you

“You look a little tired there.” Kaeya appeared out of thin air. You had been so distracted that you hadn’t noticed anything for a while. The passing of the time or the citizens walking from place to place, none of them registered. So when Kaeya’s face was suddenly before you and you caught his half-smile, you didn’t pay it much attention.

“Do I?” Your head was fuzzy like someone had turned on the radio but all the channels were missing. This sensation had gotten so commonplace that you often ignored it too.

“Yeah. Are you okay?” He leaned down, his smile gone and replaced with a concerned expression.

“I’m okay. Thanks.” You try to give him a reassuring smile and hope he doesn’t worry.

He watches as you walk away. There is something off about your steps, but he isn’t quite sure.

He’d likely do his own background investigation to figure out what is troubling you. He’s ready to tackle any problem no matter the size in order to bring back your more cheery disposition

When he finds out that it’s because you have trouble sleeping he gets to work. He’s asking the alchemists to come up with a potion, he goes to the church to see if the healers can assist in any way, he might even try some non-conventional tactics to help you sleep

After many days of rain, the sun had started to return to the city. There was a cool chill that ran across your arms and the back of your neck as you bent down to pour out the excess water from the plants. I should probably replace this with some dry dirt, you think to yourself as the water spreads across the cobblestone.

When you finish, you watch as the other citizens pass by. A few wave and some just keep on about their day. A few drops of cold water fall on your face and make you jump as it runs down your cheek.

“Hello, again.” A familiar voice calls out to you and when you look, you see Kaeya confidently making his way toward you.

“Hello.” You return and wipe the raindrops off of your face. You’re reminded how tall his when he stops but a few inches in front of you and stares down at you.

“Heading out now that the rain has stopped?” His hand is on his hip and he’s wearing his dashing smile.

“Yeah, I was thinking of returning some books to the Library. I’m sure Lisa isn’t pleased I haven’t returned them yet.”

“I’ll accompany you.”

“You sure?” You give him a quizzical look. He’s always so busy, it’s strange for him to have extra time to spare.

“Of course.”

“Okay, well let me grab the books.” He waits patiently outside until you return, books in hand.

He’s a man with a plan, and he’s going to enact that plan

He may have a pleasant smile plastered to his face, but he always has something working in the background, shifting in the shadows

Somehow he has convinced you to visit his office. You aren’t sure how he convinced you, the conversation you had with him didn’t seem to discuss anything about having a cup of tea, and especially not in his office.

“Thanks for the drink, it smells delicious.” You let the warm vapors run across your face and breath in the sweet smell.

“Please take your time.” He sits in the chair next to you, his leg resting on his knee and his back against the plush cushion.

You sit for a while and listen to the sounds of the room. The way the wind slides over the glass window, the sounds of footsteps walking through the hallways, voices of the knights growing and fading as they accomplish their tasks. The atmosphere starts to make you drowsy and you close your eyes for a minute, the warm cup resting on your legs.

“You seem relaxed now.” You hear his voice and open your eyes again.

“Yeah, there is something comforting about this place. I’m not sure why.”

“Probably because I’m here.” You chuckle at his comment and take another sip of tea. When there are only a few drinks left you placed the cup back onto the saucer before preparing yourself to leave.

“Well, thanks again.” You start to get up but he stops you. He’s grabbing your shoulder and ushering you down onto the couch.

“You should rest.”

“Huh, I don’t need to?” You try to sit back up, but he continues to push you down.

“Yes, you do. I can tell how tired you are. When was the last time you slept.”

“Kaeya, you’re being silly.”

“When was the last time?” He asks again, sitting on the coffee table and crossing his arms.

“... I don’t know … I tried to get some sleep last night but It didn’t really work.” You feel the soft cushion of the couch under you. It smells like Kaeya and it's pulling you in.

“I have some more things to do, but you are welcome to rest here.”

“I have a house…”

“Yes, but you already said this place was comforting.” He smirks at you, again somehow convincing you his way is the best way.

“I won’t fall asleep.” You retort, rubbing your eyes.

“Just give it a try.” He stands up and you follow him with your gaze. You watch as he grabs a blanket and starts to unravel it over you. It’s thick and extremely soft. “Now, close your eyes.”

“I’m telling you …”

“Mmhm, just be good and do it.”

Your eyes track him as he makes his way to his desk. The sun is hitting his back and the color of blue reflects against the wall. You blink a few times. The blanket is so warm and the pillow is just right. You close your eyes for just a few seconds, I definitely won’t fall asleep, you think to yourself before you slip into a world of pleasant dreams.

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #genshin kaeya #genshin zhongli #kaeya x reader #Zhongli X reader #zhongli #kaeya #kaeya alberich

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Mia Deserved Better: An Analysis of RE8's Themes/Symbolism

Foreword: I would like to thank @lepusrufus for posting about both Mia and Miranda, and at one point directly saying that Mia deserved better, which is a large part of what caused me to start examining her role in the canon story. Now, I will say that this post, like some of my previous explorations of Village (such as my attempt to determine Donna's age), will not be the best organized. My ADHD makes such things rather difficult for me. However, I have tried more than usual, and have broken up this "essay" into several distinct sections. Still, I am worried that my thoughts will not be as concise or coherent as they were inside my head.

Under read-more for length and spoilers for RE8: Village.

Introduction:

Village is, inarguably, about parenthood. Is it a horror game? Yes. Is it also science fiction? Also yes. But is it still, at its core, a story, and therefore contains imagery, symbolism, and themes? Yes. Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with Mia deserving better. My proposal is as follows: While Village is overall about parenthood, it is more about motherhood than fatherhood. Furthermore, Mia's background + actions from the previous game tie her story directly with Mother Miranda's, making their potential interactions massively important to the story... and could have served the theme beautifully. The missed potential in her involvement in the story is honestly a little bit absurd.

Now, let's examine each of the Four Lords + their sections, as the beginning of analyzing the game's theme.

Lady Dimitrescu + Castle:

Ah, perhaps the clearest (albeit unimportant) bits of theme within the whole game. We are immediately presented with another parent, with three daughters she loves very, very much. Initially they work as a team to capture Ethan, easily overpowering him. When they do split up, each still has dialogue regarding their family members. Each of the daughters expresses a desire to be like their mother/make their mother proud. Lady Dimitrescu herself gets very upset every time one of her daughters perishes, and delivers some important dialogue about this in her final confrontation with Ethan.

To paraphrase, Lady D says that Ethan has done something unforgiveable, caused damage that can never heal, and deserves to die before his daughter. That last part is interesting, in the sense that Lady D seems to believe that outlasting your own child is a fate so terrible that she would not wish it upon anyone, including the person who killed her daughters.

Throughout her dialogue and actions, Lady D serves as an important figure of a living mother. What do I mean by that? Well, the only other mothers we see in game are Mia and Miranda. The former doesn't show up until almost the end of the game (seeing as the "Mia" at the start is not actually the real Mia), while the latter does not have a living child, and her behavior has (presumably) changed quite a bit since that loss. As Ethan goes through Castle Dimitrescu, he watches (he causes) Lady D to go through what Miranda did all those decades ago. When we see her loss, when we experience her loss, it is something we connect with, even comparing it (as Lady D does) to Ethan's loss of Rose.

For the more visual side of symbolism, we can turn to Lady Dimitrescu herself. She is very tall, is visibly older than the majority of the Village cast, and has a fairly classic (old-school) motherly look. Everything about her reinforces her position as an example of a mother, especially when she's with her daughters and becomes such a strong figure of protection. Her height allows her to seem the caretaker for her children, even though they are scary/intimidating in their own right.

Donna Beneviento + Waterfall House:

Yes, the baby/fetus/monstrosity is part of this. No, it is not the only bit of thematic work in this section of the game.

To begin, you can find out that Donna is officially the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda. Her birth parents are dead, implied to be from especially tragic causes (more than is the norm when it comes to "orphan making"), and she has suffered greatly from it. We see that she has been seemingly neglected by Miranda, and is incredibly isolated. The tragedy of her loss, along with the consequences presented by it, are something to keep in mind further down the road, when we inevitably deal with Ethan's own death.

One of the consequences of the environment Donna was raised in is, arguably, her reliance on Angie. While interpretations of their exact relationship (aka how much control Donna actually has at any given point) vary, the two very clearly have something akin to a mother/daughter vibe. Alternatively an older sister/younger sister sort of thing. This shows in the way that Donna holds/carries Angie, as well as the contrast in their demeanors. Moreso, the fact that Donna gave a part of herself to create Angie is almost enough to make the symbolism nonnegotiable.

We also see that Donna has a strong understanding of family/family dynamics, through the way that she uses her powers to manipulate Ethan. She dissects his connections to Mia and Rose, taunts him with the lengths he's willing to go to save his child, then shows him a grotesque version of parenthood: The aforementioned fetus monster. Does the monster represent Ethan's fears, or Donna's?

What if the monster is how Donna sees herself, in some way, perhaps thinking that it's her fault her parents died? Bit of a stretch, but it's not a keystone of my theory, so I'm just throwing it out there. We could, however, go a step further and ask ourselves if Donna has noticed the way Miranda neglects her, and the fetus monster is how Donna thinks Miranda sees her. A baby, true, but grotesque, so terribly imperfect compared to her "real daughter" (Eva, obvs).

Regardless, the monster presents an ugly side of parenthood. It shows us the blood, the hunger (with the way it repeatedly attempts to swallow Ethan whole), the wailing. If Lady D shows us the love of parenthood, the bond, Donna in turn shows us the hate, the misery. Everything that one must endure to reap the rewards of family.

Lastly, we get one last bit of symbolism with Donna's death: We play a game with Angie. A childhood classic, hide and seek. Ethan chases her down repeatedly, stabbing away, seemingly only hurting the doll. But what happens when he kills Angie? It turns out that he killed Donna. You kill the child, you kill the parent. A reinforcement of the connection that comes with parenthood, along with another notch in Ethan's family-murdering belt (not saying that he's the "true antagonist" or anything, just keeping track for one of my later points).

Moreau + The Reservoir

Let's get the worst possibility out of the way: Moreau, weakest and sickest of the four lords, lives in a reservoir, where he is relatively safe. To defeat him, you have to drain the water, forcing him onto dry(ish) land. Paired with the main ideas of his section (which I will detail after this nightmare), one could theorize that he's meant to represent birth itself. Again, he's safe in his ("womb") water, and becomes vulnerable when he leaves (like a fragile newborn). Kinda gross, in my opinion, and also not a strong enough connection for me to care much about. It was merely an interesting (albeit horrifying) enough thought that I felt it warranted sharing.

Moving on to the big stuff with Moreau: He's a baby. Evidence: Whiny, has difficulty moving around, struggles to adapt to his growth, throws up a bunch, loves his mother very much, cries for his mother when he's in trouble, etc. Although Mother Miranda does not care for him, he clearly cares for her, and plays yet another role of an abandoned child (like Donna). Without Miranda there to protect him, he perishes terribly, crying out for someone who does not care to answer.

Hearing him cry out for Miranda, over and over, only for her to continue ignoring him is a key piece in the build-up to our confrontation between Ethan and Miranda. The game, in many ways, centers around the comparison between the two. In my humble opinion, Mia should have been involved in this comparison, as opposed to supplying the solution to the result of said comparison. Yes, I know that was a lot of words that don't mean much yet, but trust me, I'm getting there.

Heisenberg + The Factory

Ironically, of the four lords, Heisenberg is the most similar to Mother Miranda. In his massive factory, he is alone except for his numerous experiments, the results of decades of playing God. In comparison to Ethan + Mia, Heisenberg represents artificial parentage, or more accurately, the artificial creation of "life". While the others Lords also performed experiments, they used living subjects. Heisenberg instead chose to use corpses, which he then "brought back to life" with cybernetics + his powers, a somewhat futuristic version of Dr. Frankenstein.

Together, Miranda and him show a rotten side of parenthood (whereas Donna + Moreau showed us the uglier side of the children themselves). To put it simply, they are bad parents. They throw their "children"/experiments into the fray, uncaring, using them as pawns for their own greater gain. The most important part of this is that Heisenberg offers to "help" Ethan: By using Rose as a weapon. In his act of refusal, Ethan demonstrates one of several important distinctions between himself and Mother Miranda. Where she is willing to use her "children" (read: lives that she is responsible for) as tools, he is not.

Miscellaneous Symbolism/Imagery:

The old hag is one of my favorite parts of Village. She's seemingly nuts, has a crazy old lady laugh, wears bones that make soothing bone noises when she moves, and she draws lots of symbols in the dirt. If you look closely (I can provide screenshots if anyone desires, but it will take a bit of work to get them onto my computer), she's drawing one of the most iconic images in the titular village: The winged unborn. This symbol acts as the key you build up after every fight with a Lord, understandably called the Unborn Key (which turns into the Winged Unborn Key). Whether this counts as foreshadowing towards the hag's identity reveal is technically irrelevant, but I like to think it does.

In essence, you build up the key, this depiction of an infant, to progress in the game. The more wings it gains, the closer you are to your goal of rescuing your child.

The cadou itself is very clearly fetus-shaped. Furthermore, the only place within the human body that we know it ever gets implanted is in the "tummy" (thanks Moreau), aka roughly where someone's womb is/would be. Every infected person we see presumably had the Cadou implanted there (though I think it would be interesting if implanting it in different spots caused different mutations. of course, that is a discussion for another day). To become immortal, you have to "bear" a "child". Does it get more direct than that?

Mother Miranda gained her immortality in part for her grief at the loss of her child. She embodied the despair that Lady D spoke of, becoming an eternal source of anguish. Just as the loss of a child is a wound that lasts forever, so too would Miranda last forever (well, until Ethan comes along).

Mia is a loving mother, who puts up with the BSAA making her move across the world, deals with the complications of having a mold husband and mold baby, and has proved herself (see her section in RE7) to be an immense badass. Previously I had forgotten that, and even embarrassed myself in the comments of another person's post by implying she wasn't a tough, ass-kicking machine. Y'all remember feral Mia? People talk about "poor Ethan's arms", but sometimes we forget that Mia was one of the people who did a number on them. Furthermore, she's one of the only living people (from outside the village) to have any connections (pun intended) to Mother Miranda. They worked together, although possibly not directly, on Evelyn. If anyone in Village has a chance of really understanding Miranda's plight, or knowing the truth behind it, it would be Mia. Yet we don't see them interact a single time. Which leads me to the next section...

Conclusion On Theme + Missed Potential:

Okay, okay, so it's pretty obvious at this point that, as previously stated, the game's theme is parenthood. Every section has its symbolism, the story is very obviously about a man trying to rescue his daughter, etc, etc, but what's the point? Is there a lesson, or a more focused interpretation of the central theme? Let's take one last step back, and focus on something I've mentioned a few times now: The comparison between Ethan and Mother Miranda.

Recurring dialogue from Ethan, Alcina, and Mother Miranda all point towards the developers acknowledging that the characters are similar, but there's nowhere near as much conversation about it as I would like. Several times we have the antagonists ask Ethan how he's so willing to kill someone else's child, or prevent them from (essentially) doing what he's doing (aka saving his daughter). While Ethan responds with a mix of "well you started it" and "aghhh fuck-a-you, bitch", there's a much more solid, unspoken difference: Mother Miranda sends her underlings to kill, so that she may revive her daughter. Ethan kills (read: does the work himself) to get his daughter. The difference is much bigger, and more important, at the end of the game, when we realize just how far it goes. Ethan dies to save his daughter. Time and time again Mother Miranda has killed others for her work, but in the end she is stopped when someone willingly dies to stop her.

Where does Mia come in? Mia, the badass mother, the one who once worked alongside Mother Miranda, should have been the nail in the coffin. She is the one who survives, who lives on to raise Rose, she is the silent solution to Ethan's sacrifice. Miranda, you fool, what could you have accomplished if you had held onto your makeshift family? Through Mia (and Chris, to a lesser degree), his "loss" becomes a victory. There's a certain poetic justice that comes with Rose's full family being instrumental in saving her, when Miranda so readily spurned her own family.

Mia could have had an actual conversation with Miranda, their history giving the latter a reason to actually listen. I'm not saying that Miranda would have changed her mind/plans, but the conversation would have been a well-needed contrast to Ethan's "arggg what the fuck is happening, I only have two reactions to things. agg fuck you". Additionally, I feel that Mia (who was captured and had to endure who-knows-what) deserves the opportunity to be the one who points out Miranda's mistakes, who delivers the final "fuck you" to her. More than that, she's the one at the end who can say that hey, maybe she can understand some of what Miranda did. Was there anything her and Ethan wouldn't have done to save Rose? As much as Ethan is a foil to Miranda, Mia could (and should) have played a similar role.

When so much of the story and symbolism revolves around Miranda's experience as a mother, it only would have been fair to shine a light on her equivalent. Her better.

There's more I wanted to say/feel like I didn't properly get across, and I might add more to this at some point, but it's 5:40 AM right now, and I'm starting to feel like my brain is slowing down, so... Feel free to reblog/comment and add your own thoughts!

#mother miranda #mia winters #ethan winters #rosemary winters #resident evil: village #re8 village #god what do I tag this as

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farfromtommy · 3 years

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All I Need Is You

not my gif

PLEASE READ WARNINGS AND AUTHORS NOTE

THIS PIECE CONTAINS POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT FOR READERS

word count: approx. 6800

warnings: TW: talk of miscarriage there is talk of blood if is an uncomfortable topic for you please please do not read. it is not graphic and not in extreme detail but it is there, angst, language, talk of sex and unprotected sex (no smut but it gets a lil spicy), childbirth and breastfeeding, fluffly fluff throughout

summary: tom wants kids, y/n doesn’t, but that’s okay. but after the birth of their godson and after meeting y/n’s best friend’s new baby, something changed.

a/n: this story does contain mild descriptions of blood and miscarriage, but is not the main plot to the story. i have never gone through one personally, but i did research and used some prior knowledge while writing this. please know that i mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone who has had a miscarriage or been affected in any way. if this story offends anyone in anyway, please let me know and i will take it down. this is all a work of fiction. this does contain possible triggering content and i will be putting a warning during the part and after. i will be linking some resources available for anyone who has had a miscarriage or is being affected by one in anyway. you are not alone.

The topic of kids and when you were going to have them was not unfamiliar to you and Tom. You had been together since you were both 18 and now engaged at 23. You and Tom have been giving people the same answers whenever they asked when you were having kids for years. “We’re not ready to have kids yet” or “It’s not a priority for us at the moment”

You knew Tom had had an itch of baby fever for a while and he had expressed his desire to become a father in the future, but only when you’re ready to become a mother, but you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be.

About 6 months after your engagement, his parents had managed to get everyone under the same roof at the same time for dinner and had bombarded you with comments and questions about when they were to expect a grandbaby. They had been hearing your reasons for not having had kids yet for years and weren’t accepting those answers anymore. Tom told them that you were both focusing on planning the wedding and would visit the topic after if the timing was right.

The timing would never be right, Tom felt. He had asked you a few times about the possibility of having a baby in the future and he only ever managed to get short answers out of you and then the topic was dismissed. Harry and Sam asked him about it privately and Tom expressed his concerns to them about your seeming lack of interest in even having a conversation about it. They encouraged him to sit you down and talk it out like adults. With the wedding planning starting to pick up, he knew this conversation had to happen to make sure you were both on the same page.

~~~

After his conversation with his brothers, Tom had finally worked up the courage to approach you about the baby talk and was going to put his foot down and not let you dismiss it.

“Darling, can we talk about something?” Tom asked one night as you were pulling back the sheets to get into bed. You had crawled onto your side of the bed and set your phone on the nightstand to give him your undivided attention.

“Yeah, baby, of course. What’s on your mind?” You said softly, leaning back against the headboard. Tom sat across from you on the foot of the bed with his legs crossed, leaning back on his hands. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts before speaking.

“We have talked briefly about this a few times before, but we’ve never sat down and talked about it, and I think it's past time we did. Do you want kids?” He asked bluntly and looked you in the eyes. He saw your demeanor change just slightly when your eyes widened a bit. You looked down at your hands and wrung them nervously trying to find your words.

“I know I keep avoiding the topic, and I’m sorry. But if I’m being honest, I don’t think so. I’ve never been able to see myself as a mother and having a big family and all that. I thought that maybe when we got engaged and bought this house that I would change my mind and feel different, but I don’t.” You whispered the last part and kept your eyes on your hands.

“I’m so so sorry, Tom. I know that you want a family and kids but I don’t know if I can do it. Everything about pregnancy and becoming a mother scares the ever-loving shit out of me and I send myself into a panic attack at the thought. That’s why I’m so dismissive about it. I’m sorry. If you want to leave, I understand.” You let the tears fall down your face, trying to keep your voice even.

You felt the bed shift a little and you shut your eyes to keep the tears back, assuming Tom was getting up to leave. You flinched when you felt his hand on your face and his lips on the top of your head. You felt him press his body against your side and you leaned against him and let a few tears fall.

“Y/N, darling, listen to me. It’s okay, my love. I’m not mad or upset with you at all, and I’m not going to leave you. You don’t have to change your mind or feel differently about kids if that’s how you feel. I didn’t propose to you just so we could have babies, I’m marrying you to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm okay with it just being us. I just want to spend every day of my life loving you, that’s enough for me. I don’t need anything or anyone else to make me happy. All I need is you.” Tom said to you. He rubbed your back soothingly trying to calm the quiet sobs that were escaping your mouth.

“I don’t want you to hate me in 50 years and look back at all the things I couldn’t give you, or regret not marrying someone who would’ve given you kids.” You whispered into his chest.

“I’m never going to regret marrying you, I promise you that. In 50 years we’ll look back at the most amazing life we had together and cherish all the memories we made, not look back and think of what could’ve been.” He cupped your cheeks in his hand and wiped the thick tears falling down your face.

He was able to get you to calm down after a few minutes and crawled under the sheets with you. He laid down on his back and pulled you close to him with your head on his chest and one arm wrapped around your shoulders and the other rubbing your arm.

“I love you so much, Tommy. I don’t know what I did in this life to deserve you.” You mumbled against the skin of his bare chest. He kissed the top of your head again and let his cheek rest against it as he whispered ‘I love you so much more’ and pulled you closer.

~~~

Tom managed to get everyone to cool it with the baby talk. You didn’t know what he said to his parents to get them to chill out a bit, but whatever he said worked. With the weight lifted off of both your shoulders, the wedding was the only thing on your mind.

It couldn’t have gone more perfectly. The day you and Tom had been planning for almost a year and the day you had been waiting for, honestly, since the day you met him. He looked incredible in his crisp black tux with his brothers and best friend standing right next to him.

The ceremony had everyone, including you and Tom, in tears. From the words the officiant spoke to the vows that were exchanged and then the moment you were pronounced man and wife, there was not one dry eye. After all the emotions you felt after the ceremony, you were beyond excited to celebrate with friends and family at the reception.

You sat at the table reserved for you and Tom and all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen just watching the joy bubble out of everyone in front of you. Tom was standing on the edge of the dance floor with a beer in his hand talking to a few of the people he had worked with over the years and that he hadn’t had a chance to catch up with. You were nursing a glass of champagne while you talked to one of your bridesmaids about the honeymoon you were leaving for in a few days.

One of Tom’s cousins had approached you and sat in a chair next to you to share her excitement with you over the whole day. Her husband had approached her with their 7-month-old son, Lucas, saying that he was getting a bit fussy. She gladly took her son and rested him in her lap, letting him play with the jewelry on her wrists and fingers.

Lucas had started to get a bit antsy again and Tom’s cousin had started to get up in search of her husband to try and get a bottle for the little boy. You had offered to hold him while she looked for him and try to keep him happy and occupied in the meantime. She graciously passed him over to you and you assured her that it was no problem.

He was a little distressed at the sight of his mother walking away, so you stood up and held him close to you as you walked around and talked to him a bit. He distracted himself with the necklace resting on your neck and wrapped his tiny fingers around it and stuck it in his mouth. You laughed to yourself at the boy and kept whispering things to him. One of your friends had approached you and pointed out how content Lucas seemed in your arms. She stood there with you making noises and faces at the boy to make him laugh and he responded to it with a gummy smile and buried his face in your chest.

Tom had been wrapped up in a conversation with his friends and hadn’t noticed you standing with the baby in your arms. Nikki walked up behind him and rested her hand on Tom’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. Tom quickly excused himself from his friends and let his mom pull him away. She turned him so he was facing you and got close and pointed to you standing with his cousin, with the laughing baby in your arms.

“She’s really good with him. I don’t think that little boy has ever been that happy in the arms of anyone besides his mother. Look at the smiles on both of their faces.” Nikki said fondly, watching you interact with the baby. Tom mumbled a quiet ‘Yeah, she is’ and kept his eyes glued on you. Your smile and laugh were infectious and he found himself mirroring the joy you had plastered on your face.

“I didn’t want kids when your dad and I first met. It wasn’t until right before we got married that I had told him that I wanted to have a family with him. Let her bring it up to you and if she decides it's something she wants, she’ll let you know.” She looked over at Tom to see him looking at you like you hung the moon and stars.

Tom quickly set his beer down and made his way over to you. He greeted his cousin and hugged her before taking his spot next to you. His hand went to your lower back while he gave the other to Lucas. Tom wiggled his fingers which elicited a laugh from the baby, making you smile and laugh. He stood there for a few minutes chatting with his cousin and her husband about the baby and how he was taken with you.

Lucas ended up falling asleep in your arms with his head resting in the crook of your neck and his fingers wrapped around your necklace. You were sad to let go of Lucas but admired the way the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile when you passed him over to his father. You bid your goodbyes to the baby and his parents and grabbed Tom’s hand to pull him into a kiss.

~~~

After a year or so of being married, Tom had started to notice something different about you. He had picked up on the way you walked a little slower past the baby section whenever you went to the store together and always pointed out what you thought was exceptionally adorable. He noticed the way you looked longingly at the toddlers running around the park when you would take Tessa on walks together. When your best friend from university had brought her newborn daughter around to your place was when everything had finally started to click, for both of you.

The words Nikki had said to him at the wedding echoed in his mind. He needed to let you come to him about it. The last thing he wanted was to pressure you into talking about something you weren’t ready for.

“I’m so happy for Megan. She’s been dreaming about having a daughter, I swear since I met her. She was always talking about how badly she wanted to be a mom and couldn’t wait to have kids.” You said to Tom once you had both crawled into bed. He rested against the headboard with his laptop resting on his thighs. He looked over at you when you pulled back the comforter and got into bed next to him.

“She seems happy. Even when she was talking about not having gotten a wink of sleep in the past 3 weeks, she said it with a smile and love.” Tom chuckled to himself, turning his attention back to what he was working on. You hummed in agreement and grabbed the book off your nightstand. You found yourself unable to focus on the words in front of you and kept rereading the same few words over and over again.

Your mind kept going back to the afternoon you spent with Megan and her daughter and how happy you were to see your friend so happy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been imagining you and Tom with that sort of happiness. The past year has been the best in your life. Tom had been traveling so much for work and you went with him wherever he went. Traveling the world and seeing your husband live his dream made you happy beyond belief. But you still felt like there was something more that you longed for.

“Oh, I don’t think I told you. My cousin sent me a message earlier today, she’s pregnant again! I think she said she’s about 20 weeks and having a gender reveal next week, and wants us to be there. I told her I’d talk to you about it.” Tom said while he opened up his messages and let you read the texts for yourself.

“Wow! That’s so amazing. Lucas is gonna be a great big brother. I don’t think we have anything going on, we should definitely go.” You handed Tom’s phone back to him and pulled yours out to send her a message.

A twinge of jealousy panged in your gut. Why did you feel like this? You had never felt jealous of your friends and family when they had gotten pregnant before. It was only good news whenever you found out. Did you wish it was you? Maybe this was your heart telling you that this was something you wanted. Maybe-

“Darling? You okay?” Tom’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and your eyes focused on your phone in your hand. You looked over at Tom and saw the concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I got lost in thought for a second, I guess.” You brushed it off and kept typing the message.

~~~

You stared at the positive pregnancy tests with a mix of emotions. One part of you was freaking out at the thought of being pregnant. All the fears you had about pregnancy and motherhood rearing their ugly heads right at the front of your mind. It wasn’t just an ‘IF I got pregnant’ fear, it was an ‘oh my god I’m pregnant and it’s going to happen’ fear. It wasn’t just imagining what would happen anymore, it was actually happening.

The other part of you felt an indescribable amount of joy and excitement. Your mind immediately went to Tom and how over the moon he would be at the news. Imagining what a perfect father he would be to your baby had your heart bursting and your whole body buzzing. He’s the most perfect person to raise a child with.

The fears of parenthood and of becoming a mother tried to cloud your mind again, but you were too excited about telling Tom to care. A few minutes later you walked into the living room with the tests in your hand, looking for Tom. You heard him in the kitchen fixing up some lunch and singing along to the music coming out of his phone.

“Darling what do you want on your sandwich? I’ve got the things you usually take, you just want everything?” Tom said when he heard your footsteps from down the hall get closer to where he was.

“Yeah, everything is good. Um, I need to tell you something though, before we eat.” Tom’s head looked up at you, his eyes filled with worry and a bit of curiosity. He set down the knife he had in his hand and leaned against the counter, waiting for you to talk.

“Uh so. The past couple of weeks or so I’ve been feeling super off and just really not like myself. I think I mentioned to you that I was feeling weird and we chalked it off as maybe I was getting sick or my period was just gonna hit like a bitch this month.” You looked down at the stick in your hand and looked back up at Tom, his eyes not having left your face. “I- I, uh, I went to log my symptoms into my period tracking app and when I did, it said that my period was almost a week late and that even though there were a bunch of possible causes… the one that stood out was pregnancy.” You looked back up at Tom and his eyebrows were furrowed and you could see the worry lines across his forehead.

“Y/N?” He whispered as he stepped closer to you and placed a hand on your hip, quietly urging you to continue. You took a deep breath and opened up your hand to show him the white and blue stick resting in your palm.

“I’m pregnant, Tommy. I got a couple of tests this morning while you were at the gym and I just took them. They’re all positive.” He carefully picked up the plastic stick like it was made of glass and looked at the little screen with the words ‘pregnant’ across it. You felt the emotion well up in your chest when he brought his hand up to his mouth and heard him choke back a breath.

“Oh my god. You’re not messing with me, right? This is for real?” He looked up at you with tears pooling in his lower lash line. All you could do was muster up a nod before the tears fell from both of your eyes.

Tom wrapped his arms around you and lifted you slightly off the ground, twirling you around the kitchen while he laughed and cried in joy. You giggled at his actions and kept your arms wrapped around his neck, the tears still falling from your eyes. He set you down after a few moments passed and cupped your face in his hands. He saw the emotions written all across your face, all he could see was happiness and excitement.

“This is a good thing, right?” he wiped a few stray tears off of your cheeks with his thumbs and tilted his head a little bit.

“Yeah, this is a really good thing. I know my feelings were different before but I don’t know, I guess something changed.” You smiled a bit thinking back on the last couple of months of feeling like this.

It had started with your friend from college introducing you to her daughter and asking you and Tom to babysit when she needed one. When Tom’s cousin had their 2nd son, they had asked you and Tom to be the godparents to baby James. You and Tom were over the moon excited to accept and to be there for the christening of your godson.

Tom couldn’t find the words to say and just pulled you in for another bone-breaking hug. You stood in the kitchen with him, your lunch long forgotten, just hugging each other. You could feel the love pour out from your bodies and to each other, everything was as perfect as it could be.

You set up an appointment with your gynecologist as soon as you could, anxious to confirm your pregnancy with them and maybe be able to see the beginning stages of your little one growing in your tummy. Tom had insisted he take a day off of work to go with you. He had declared that he was not going to let work or anything get in the way of him supporting you through this.

He had heard so many stories from people he’s worked with about them missing the birth of their children because of work and strict filming schedules. Or that their spouse has been left at home the entire pregnancy, sometimes with other children too, and they were only able to get a week off for the birth and then head back to work.

Tom swore to you before you got married that he would never prioritize work over his life with you. He had never missed spending a birthday, an anniversary, or a holiday with you. He sure as hell wasn’t about to miss witnessing the miracle of your pregnancy.

The appointment went as perfectly and smoothly as it could’ve gone. You were still in the very early stages of your first trimester, only about 7 weeks pregnant. Your doctor had said that it was possible to hear the heartbeat already and spent a little time searching for it.

After a few seconds had passed a whooshing sound had filled the room and the doctor smiled at you when your eyes shot over to Tom. He had wrapped one of your hands in both of his and kissed your knuckles, letting tears slip out at the sound of his baby’s heartbeat.

There wasn’t much to see on the sonogram. Your doctor had pointed out the grainy blob on the picture that was indeed your baby. You couldn’t stop staring at the little grey blob that was changing your life.

“So I think we should hold off on telling everyone until I’m a little farther along, you know, just in case. The nurse said miscarriages are common during the first trimester and we gotta be really careful. I’m okay with telling your mom, I think it’ll be good to have her support and be able to ask her things. But we should hold off on a big announcement until I’m at least 16 weeks.” You said in the car on your way back home after the appointment.

“Yeah of course. Dad is taking me and the boys golfing next week, so mum will probably ask you to lunch or something. You can tell her then or we can do it together another day, whatever you prefer. You’re the boss, mummy. Whatever you say, goes.” He quickly glanced over at you with a big smile on his face before putting his eyes back on the road.

Your face split into a huge grin at the name before placing your hands on your stomach. Tom rested one of his hands on top of yours and kept it there the whole way home.

~~~

*SENSITIVE CONTENT AHEAD*

No one could have warned you about the overwhelming heartache you could feel during pregnancy. You thought it would be smooth sailing into your second trimester and you’d finally be able to share with everyone the joy of a new baby coming into the world.

Your doctor had made you aware of the possibility of having a miscarriage at the beginning of your pregnancy, not to scare you, but just so you were aware. 10-15% of all pregnancies resulted in miscarriages, 80% of them happening in the first trimester due to a multitude of reasons. She said to take care of yourself and to do everything in your power to keep yourself and your baby as healthy as could be.

You had done everything by the books.

You ate a well-balanced diet, cutting out everything your doctor had advised you to avoid. You had started joining Tom at the gym more regularly and did a bit of yoga at home, just to keep yourself in shape, but never overexerting yourself. Cutting out alcohol had been a no brainer, even Tom said he wouldn’t drink if you couldn’t. You, unfortunately, had to cut down majorly on your caffeine intake, which left you irritable and cranky most mornings. But it was all for the wellbeing of your baby, which made it all oh so worth it.

Nikki found out about your pregnancy when she had asked you to lunch while the Holland boys were golfing for the day. You had shown her the sonogram and she gasped in shock at the picture in front of her. Your name was printed across the top of it, so she knew it was yours. She had been sworn to secrecy when you told her that only you, her, and Tom knew and that you were keeping it a secret until about 16 weeks.

She was the first person you called when you were sitting at home by yourself when you had started to feel a cramping sort of pain along your abdomen and stretching into your back. Your doctor had said that cramping was normal but if it was accompanied by period-like bleeding, to call immediately. You stretched out a bit on the couch to try and get the pain to pass but when it didn’t, you picked up the phone and called Nikki.

Her tone of voice stayed calm as you explained what you were feeling and where you were feeling it. She had dropped everything and said she’d be there as soon as she could be and to relax, everything was going to be okay. You had advised against her wish of calling Tom, for the time being, he was in the city for meetings and some press events all day and you didn’t want to bother him if it was nothing.

In no more than 20 minutes you were sitting next to her on the couch as you told her in more detail about the discomfort along your abdomen. She had suggested you get up and go to the bathroom just to be sure there wasn’t any bleeding. You gave her a nervous glance and she assured you it was going to be okay, she just wanted to be sure.

Standing up from the couch the pain had started to shift into your pelvis and deepen in your abdomen. You had asked for her to help you to the bathroom and to stay with you, just in case. She said ‘of course’ and led you to the nearest toilet to the living room. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you neared the bathroom, praying that this was nothing and just one of those pregnancy things.

Nikki had respectfully turned around after you unbuttoned your jeans and started to sit. You pulled your underwear down with your pants and took a deep breath before glancing down and seeing the mess on the inside of your underwear. Your heart dropped down to your gut seeing the bright red blood staining the fabric and sticking to the inside of your thighs. A quiet ‘oh no’ left your mouth as you just stared down. Nikki turned around hearing you talk and saw what was happening. She mumbled something you couldn’t hear before she opened the door and headed towards your room.

You could hear the opening and shutting of drawers in the distance and the shuffling of her feet back into the bathroom. She set a pair of fresh underwear and a pair of sweatpants on the counter next to you before opening the cabinets under the sink in search of a pad. She placed everything next to you and asked you to change so she could drive you to the hospital. You nodded slowly and she left the bathroom quietly.

~~~

The next couple of months were difficult, but having the support of Tom made it just a little bit easier. He held you when all you could do was cry and told you that it was going to be okay. He was going to be there every step of the way. He rubbed your back and held you close anytime you needed it and gave you your space when you asked for it.

He made sure to listen to you deeply when you talked about it. He assured you, along with your doctor, that it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could’ve done differently to stop this. It was just a freak thing and is unfortunately a common occurrence. He let you air out your frustrations and fears openly and told you that you weren’t alone. He shared some of the same fears that you did and helped you feel not crazy about having these big feelings.

You helped each other begin the process of healing and coming to terms with what had happened. It took time for you both to talk about it without being overwhelmed with grief and sadness, but it happened. You were able to share what had happened with close friends and family and feel okay about sharing your story. The amount of support and love you got from everyone made it that much easier to take another step forward in healing.

You learned that some of the people closest to you had gone through the same pain in the past, but had never shared it. You felt comfort in knowing that you weren’t alone and that your doctor wasn’t saying that miscarriages were common just to make you feel better. People you knew and had deep relationships with had gone through the same thing, it wasn’t just you and Tom. You weren’t alone in your suffering and pain. It was okay to feel sad about the loss of someone you hadn’t met or that wasn’t really a someone yet. It’s okay to grieve and feel the feelings you have about the loss.

Tom and Nikki had had another conversation about you approaching him about having a baby, much like they did on the night of your wedding. It had been almost a year since the miscarriage, and he wanted to know where you stood on having a baby again. He didn’t want to rush or push you at all. Nikki assured him that when you were ready, you would let him know.

You had started to do the slow walk past the baby section in the store again. After the miscarriage, you had avoided it as much as possible. You pointed out cute onesies and toys any time you saw them. The sadness in the longing looks you had at the sight of toddlers in the parks had changed to happiness and joy.

You told him you didn’t want to have sex after you miscarried, and he completely understood. There was no resentment towards you when you would stop a makeout session when it got too heated and he would get up and take care of himself in the bathroom or take a cold shower. About 6 months after, you insisted that he wear a condom and pulled out before he came, even with the condom on. Just to be safe.

Your sex life with Tom had started to spark again and was getting back to how it was before the miscarriage. You were okay if he came inside you, but still with the condom on. That's how it had been until one night you and Tom were enjoying a date night at home together, and both had a little too much wine. You were about a bottle and a half into your favorite red wine, both of you way well on your way to being wine drunk.

Date night had moved from the dining room to the couch after the 2nd bottle of wine was finished. Tom was sitting with his back against the armrest, one leg stretched out in front of him with the other planted on the floor. Your knees were digging into the cushion beneath them on either side of Tom’s leg. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body. His lips attacked yours with pure lust and passion. He pulled back hesitantly before attacking your neck with his mouth, nipping and biting before soothing the abused skin with his tongue.

“Tom, wait.” You breathed out, placing your hands against his chest to push him back. He looked up at you with concern and kiss swollen lips.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you were okay. You pulled back a little to put a little space between you and Tom. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath before talking.

“No, you didn’t. I just- hold on. I’ve uh, I’ve been thinking a lot the past few week about maybe us trying for another baby.” You managed to get out. The alcohol was making everything a bit fuzzy but gave you the ability to speak your mind.

“Yeah? You’re ready for that?” Tom’s eyes softened as he pushed some of your hair out of your face and rested one of his hands against the side of your neck

“It’s been almost a year, you know? I talked to my gyno at my appointment last week and she said that there’s no reason we can’t try again. It was a freak thing, and there was nothing we could’ve done differently to change what happened. I’m ready if you’re ready. I want to start a family with you, so bad.” Tom couldn’t find the words to respond to your declaration. All he did was smile so hard his cheeks hurt and pull you close to him again.

~~~

“Push Y/N! Just a few more big pushes and your baby will be here.” Your doctor said from the end of the hospital bed you were in. All you could feel was the pain ripping through your whole body because of the human trying to make their way into the world.

You could feel the cold towel pressed against the back of your neck and the tickle of air flowing into your nose. There was a nurse on one side of you pulling one of your legs back and Tom on the other side pulling the other. He had his other hand on top of your head pushing back the strands of hair getting stuck on the sweat of your forehead.

“You’re so close, lovey. I’m so fucking proud of you baby. You’ve got this. You’re so close.” Tom chanted into your ear while pressing small kisses to your temple. All you did was grit your teeth and push as hard as you could.

There was a sudden release of relief from your body, and you felt like the wind was knocked out of your whole body. You collapsed on the pillow behind you and managed to pry your eyes open. In front of you was a baby covered in bodily fluids and screaming their absolute heart out. Your hospital gown was slipped open as the nurses helped situate the baby onto your bare chest. The hands you had gripping the sheets below you flew to the baby’s back and you choked out a sob of relief.

“You did it Y/N, you fucking did it. Oh my god, she’s so perfect, you’re so perfect.” Tom managed to get out before breaking down into tears. He placed a hand on top of the baby’s head, not caring about the mess. You looked over at him and he pressed a kiss right on your lips and rested his forehead against yours before you both looked at the baby on your chest.

The doctor had asked Tom if he wanted to cut the cord and he stumbled over himself to do it. Some of the nurses had cleaned up the baby while she was still resting on your bare skin so you could get a better look at her.

“It’s a girl, Tommy. We have a daughter.” You looked over at Tom. He had pulled his phone out and took the first picture of his wife and daughter together.

“The most perfect girl in the world. Just like her perfect mummy.” Tom said with tears still falling down his face. Your doctor congratulated you and Tom before leaving the room after you were stitched up and okay to get back into a normal position on the bed.

A nurse had taken the baby to the other side of the room to get her cleaned up completely and take her weight and measurements. Tom stood close to make sure his little girl was okay. You watched from your bed with heavy eyes, your whole body begging you to rest after almost 24 hours of labor. After the baby was cleaned up, she had a diaper put on her and wrapped in the regular hospital baby blanket. She was carefully handed to Tom before he made his way back to your bed.

You had gotten as comfortable in the bed as you could and were so grateful for whoever had invented epidurals and pain medication. Tom sat on the edge of the bed and sat shoulder to shoulder with you with a leg resting on the bed and the other keeping him steady on the floor. All he could do was stare at the baby in his arms and think about how surreal this all was.

“Did you send that picture to your parents and the boys?” You whispered so you didn’t disturb her.

“Yeah right after I took it, I haven’t checked to see what they’ve said though. I’m sure they’re going crazy right now.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your temple. You leaned into him and shut your eyes for a second to just take in everything that was happening. Your eyes shot open when you heard a knock on the door and Tom said ‘come in’.

“Hi, Mrs. Holland. I’m Olivia, a lactation consultant. One of the delivery nurses said that you were wanting to breastfeed and sent me in here just to help you out since this is going to be the first time you’re breastfeeding. Mind if I interrupt for just a little bit?” A woman not much older than you came in and moved closer to your bed. Olivia washed her hands before pulling a rolling chair next to your bed. Tom stood up to give you and Olivia the space to do what was necessary.

“Yep, just like that Y/N. That’s perfect. Baby girl Holland seems to be a pro at this, too!” Olivia watched as you positioned the baby at the perfect spot and started to nurse. It took a while to get used to the feeling, but once you did it was the most amazing thing. Tom couldn’t take his eyes off of the magic happening in front of him.

~~~

“She needs a name, Tom. We haven’t named her yet.” You whispered to Tom in the middle of the night after feeding the baby again. The nurses had come in a few times to check up on you but for the most part, were leaving you and Tom to your own devices.

“I like the name Emma.” He whispered back from the cot that was a few feet away from you, the baby in between you. You sat up as best as you could to get a look at the sleeping baby.

“She’d make a good Emma. What about Nicole for her middle name? Pay homage to your mom. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her through all of this.” You said quietly. You didn’t hear a response and looked over to see him with a toothy grin spread across his face.

“You would do that?” Tom sat up and looked at you.

“Of course. You know how much I love her, she’s so important to both of us. Plus I think Emma Nicole Holland has a pretty good ring to it.”

a few resources available

about miscarriage and more information available

grief resources

list of articles, books, and web-based resources

postpartum support

support organizations

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object-show-analysis · 3 years

Text

Why does MePad lie?

This is a question I was asked to answer a while ago. So let’s talk about it.

Now it is a fair question. Why would MePad lie to MePhone about where Marshmallow was if he doesn’t have emotion? He claims that he can’t feel anything, so why’d he make the choice to lie to MePhone

the answer to this one is pretty simple, (and most people I’ve talked to seem to agree with this, I’m just here to put things into words the best I can) but the main reason MePad chooses to keep where Marshmallow is a secret (despite the fact that he cannot feel anything for her) is that he’s a liar.

Marshmallows whereabouts aren’t the only lies he tells in episode 11. Kick The Bucket parts 1 and 2 are the only instances in which MePad mentions his inability to feel emotion. And I am positive that this is also a lie.

Let’s go over the facts

Season 2 Episode 2 we are introduced to MePad. Right away he is established as very different from MePhone in many ways. Mainly through his friendly demeanor, and his compassion. In his first episode, MePad is incredibly friendly. We see him “smile” throughout the episode and he seems to show compassion towards the contestants

As early season 2 goes on we continue to see a wide range of emotions from MePad

He shows sadness or anger when arguing with Toilet. He becomes sarcastic and sometimes even rude towards MePhone. Which, while unkind, is still an emotional response. But he’s also shown to be incredibly compassionate. From the start he applauds MePhone for caring so much about the contestants, though MePhone shuts him down.

One of the biggest indicators of this sense of compassion comes from his behavior towards his fellow assistant/cohost, Toilet.

MePad and Toilet are both hostile towards each other in the beginning of the season, though MePad doesn’t understand exactly what Toilet has against him. Their talk in the falling balloon opens MePad’s eyes to the reality of the constant workplace abuse that Toilet experiences. From that point there is a very obvious shift in MePad and Toilet’s behavior.

MePad takes time to give credit to Toilet, even when it isn’t deserved, in the name of trying to get MePhone to recognize him. He works with Toilet in an attempt to get MePhone to let him read the votes. And when MePhone shuts Toilet down again, MePad appears angry with him.

It is important to note here that MePad is not one for open confrontation. He never actively stands up for Toilet but he takes steps to ensure that Toilet gets the recognition he deserves. When MePad is upset about something, he dwells. Never directly asking for answers but trying to figure things out on his own (we’ll get back to this point in a moment)

Episode 13 and 14 give us a lot of insight into many characters, and MePad is no exception. As episode 13 comes to a close, this unwillingness to actually stand up against MePhone becomes his greatest downfall. MePad tries at first to insist Toilet would never mean any harm, but when push comes to shove MePad stands with MePhone. As Toilet turns to him for help, MePad can only look away.

MePad clearly has some inability to directly fight back against MePhone, even when he really wants to. It’s a limitation of his.

We see in this scene and in future scenes how Toilet leaving emotionally effects him. MePad is visibly distressed when Toilet leaves, and later becomes angry with MePhone for trying to get rid of his memories again and abandon the contestants. Just another example of MePad responding in very emotionally driven ways

But I’m rambling now. Back to the topic at hand, MePad and emotions. I do believe his emotional expression is very clear, but also lore wise it would only make sense for MePad to have emotions.

It was confirmed on tumblr that the Meeple products ability to feel emotion has been on a decline since MePhone4. MePhone4 being the most capable of complex emotion, and the phone that attacked Toilet (commonly assumed to be MePhoneX) being the least emotional that we’ve seen so far. We see MePhones be capable of emotion up until MePhone6 (though they could still be capable of it. As we don’t see much of them, or 6+)

Timeline wise, we know MePad was created somewhere between MePhone4 and MePhone5 (he was most likely built before MePhone4S as well, though we aren��t entirely sure). But this means that MePad should be even more capable of feeling than 5, 5S and 5C (who we know can all feel emotion.)

Case in point: MePad Does feel emotion. He absolutely must in order to line up with the confirmed lore, and what we’ve seen in the show.

Now with that out of the way we can circle back to the original question: why does MePad lie to MePhone about where Marshmallow is.

I don’t believe it was his original intention to do so, as he seems concerned for her well-being at first. And doesn’t seem to have any intention of lying when he first confronts MePhone about it.

However Marshmallow doesn’t leave his mind. Even though he tells Toilet that he’s been watching the competitors, we see he’s also got Marshmallow’s drawing of Bow with him. He’s been thinking about her, and the other contestants as a whole.

MePad is unsure why Marshmallow would choose to leave, but I believe this is the moment where he comes to his own conclusion. MePad notes to Toilet that he’s realized how miserable the contestants are. He sees their struggles and how much the competition is ripping them apart. Toilet re-solidifies this idea, as he shows he relates to the contestants in their need to please someone without ever getting anything in return, which MePad knows makes Toilet miserable.

When we see MePhone and MePad together again after this conversation, that’s when we learn MePad has lied about knowing where Marshmallow is. Because he knows why she never came back. He understands now that this was a bad environment for her.

So he makes the decision to let her be. It’s unclear what he thought would happen if he told MePhone where she was, but it’s possible they’d try to bring her back. And he understood that wasn’t what she wanted.

But there’s still one question that remains: why does MePad lie about not having emotions?

MePad’s ability to feel is mentioned twice in Kick The Bucket. Once in part 1 and once in part 2. Though his story changes throughout the two parts

In part one he claims that he can’t feel Much. Which isn’t a complete lie, as I already stated his emotions aren’t as strong as MePhone or the contestants. Though there isn’t much of a visible difference.

But in part 2 he states that he can’t feel Anything. Which surprises MePhone. It’s also important to note in this scene he appears very distressed Until he claims he can’t feel.

It’s unclear exactly what he hopes to achieve by claiming he has no ability to feel. But as I’ve already discussed, there was a clear shift in MePad’s understanding of the game in episode 11. He now sees Inanimate Insanity for what it really is, and all the pain that comes with it. We don’t know his exact reasoning. But it’s clear that this realization is what caused him to begin to lie about his ability to feel.

I hope this answer was satisfactory

#most of this post isn’t even me answering the question directly but I felt it was important background in order to understand his motivation #longpost #tags for organization:#mepad #inanimate insanity

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trampohlena · 3 years

Text

Okay. I seriously want to know what the writers were thinking when writing this episode. I’m going to complain in this post because I love the show and all of the incredible actors, however, I am frustrated with how this season is playing out (and no one I know watches this show so I just need to vent here for sec, okay?)

1. What in the fuck.

2. Tell me why the Superfriends enter the PZ and we see that in less than 10 minutes they have “fear visions” when Kara has been trapped there for the last 5 episodes and we have yet to see a SINGLE FUCKING FEAR VISION FROM THE TITLE CHARACTER! I mean, come on!

Each of the superfriends had, in the very least, a 2-3 minute look into their “greatest fear” and we haven’t seen a second of what Kara has supposedly been experiencing for however long she’s been trapped in the PZ? Are they for real? Like they literally spent an ENTIRE episode on everyone’s fears except for the person who’s supposedly suffering the most? Mkay.

We couldn’t get a glimpse? A hot little sec of Kara maybe seeing the ship, having hope, and then watch as it comes crashing down into the terrain and explodes, killing everyone she loves and her screaming out in pain. Maybe even a gut wrenching cry for “ALEX!” Or “My family!” SOMETHING? I feel like Hellen Keller over here, shouting at my television, because I still ain’t SEEN or HEARD shit about what Kara is experiencing (mentally/internally) in the PZ!

3. Wouldn’t the couples “worst fears” overlap? Like couldn’t they have saved more time by having the couples (Nia/Brainy, Alex/Kelly) experience the same scenario which in essence is losing the person you love the most? That way they could have allotted more time to see what Kara’s worst fear is and what has been replaying in her mind while trapped in the PZ? I don’t get it. I feel like they chose to play those out to purposely eat up time because MB wasn’t available for enough reshoots or whatever but like...come on.

4. Zor-El being Kara’s touchstone? Mkay. They didn’t even hug/embrace when they reunited after almost two decades apart believeing that the other was dead (thank fuck they finally did). And we’re supposed to believe that he’s her touchstone? Mmmmmkay.

5. Lena’s whole water monster thing. Okay. I get it. I know what they were trying to do and okay cool they did a little nod to Alien in there but she couldn’t have thought about Kara for a second? You know the whole entire reason she is on a Martian ship, traveling to another dimension, and facing uncertain peril looking into the face of this demented Lochness wannabe ALL TO SAVE HER BFF?

She saw everyone else dead. She couldn’t have a line of dialogue for a second of like “oh no, how am I going to get to Kara?” Or her, I don’t know...calling out for supergirl or even better calling out “Kara” in the hopes that her best friend/future wife will come and save her and then realizing at the last moment that that’s not going to happen. That maybe her other biggest fear (perhaps an unconscious fear) is that when it matters most in the end, Kara isn’t going to be there for her? That she won’t swoop in and save the day? Unfortunately, “missed opportunity” seems to be the common theme throughout the show and especially in this last season.

6. The half a second hug at the end? Really? That’s it? It took me longer to spend my stimulus check, who are they fooling?

7. Zor-El just standing there like a seventh grader at a school dance that’s too shy to even go out on the dance floor and try the stanky leg? They couldn’t have spared 5 seconds of someone like either Nia, Kelly, or Lena taking a look at Zor-El, noticing the House of El crest on his robes, and asking “who are you?” Or “who is that?” Cool....cool.

8. Kara’s fine?! I know that Lena (brilliant as she is beautiful) made the sun-bomb thingymajiggy and that restores Kara’s powers but...to full capacity? If so, cool. Lena is even more of an incredibly badass bitch that will stop at nothing to make sure her boo-thang is kept at 💯

But like...wouldn’t Kara have collapsed into Alex’s arms? Been so completely relieved and overwhelmed to be back in her sister’s arms that she completely breaks down and is utterly inconsolable? Like wouldn’t that have shed a teensy bit more light onto the true nature of the effect the PZ has on one’s psyche after being trapped there for so long? I understand, or I should say HOPE at this point, that they will most likely show flashbacks and we will see behavioral changes in Kara’s character and demeanor as the show progresses but like, fuuuuck. It’s all in the details babe!

Alas, I’d hate to end this post on a low note, and like I said I’m a HUGE fan of the show, so I will say this: All the actors were fabulous, as always. Lena really shines in this episode. And I mean that literally. I don’t know if it’s the more causal wardrobe or the fact that she’s accepted by the superfiends and finally feels included but like, she was GLOWING this episode. Her whole demeanor looks lighter and she seems more playful. Almost as if the superfiends are now seeing her as Kara has always seen her. Idk, whatever it is. Katie is rocking it.

That is all! Thanks for listening/reading if you made it this far. And sorry if I offend anyone with my sense of humor. It’s wicked, what can I say?

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara zor el #kara danvers #6x7 #phantom zone #the cw

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et-lesailes · 4 years

Text

release

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2978

summary: for obvious reasons, andy is incredibly stressed. you never thought you, his young neighbor, would be the one he wants to take it all out on.

themes: age gap, smut

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @hannie-stark, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @whores4thor, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @denisemarieangelina, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @inactivewhore, @hurricanerinwrites

notes: HELLO IT’S ME YOUR VILLAGE IDIOT WRITING ABOUT A CHARACTER I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT! graphic creds go to the amazing @allthefandomstogether !!!! :)

His scowl is tense, his blue eyes stormy, and his jawline clenched. He’s wearing a dark tee and black jeans, his biceps practically bulging underneath the short sleeves. He’s generally sharp and refined as it is, but ever since his 14 year old son was arrested for murder, his demeanor, understandably, has become much more harsh.

He moves his head and you quickly cast your eyes back down onto the dining table, placing your hands together. “Andy,” your father reaches over to pat his shoulder, looking just as stressed. “We’re going to do whatever we can to help you. Jacob will get out of there. Okay?” Andy doesn’t even look at him- instead, he’s looking towards the window with the troubled expression that’s become his norm, as if Jacob will come strolling up the path. As if his wife will pull up in the driveway again even though everyone knows she’s most likely staying at her sister’s for quite some time. The strain has been too much for her, and Andy has changed entirely. These days, he seems almost… dangerous. You can see it in his eyes- he’s getting desperate. He’ll do anything to get his son in the clear, whether he committed the crime or not.

“Do you want more?” you offer to break the awkward silence, lifting up the container of pasta you and your father had brought over to his house. Andy looks to you, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “No. Thank you though, Y/N. You made it, didn't you? It tasted good.” You give him a smile, happy to hear the compliment. Anything you can do to make your neighbor’s mood better. You’ve known Andy and his family since you were a teenager, and now as a 23 year old, you want to return all the support and thoughtfulness he’s given you. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” You stand up, cocking your head. “If you’re all done then, how about I help clean up?”

Your father nods with a smile. “That’s a good idea, sweetheart.” He glances down at his watch and sighs. “I’ve got to meet with my boss at the office in twenty minutes, I should probably head out now. You stay and help Andy, alright?” You nod and he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Thanks, Y/N. I’ll see you back home later.” He gives Andy a somewhat sad smile, a sigh escaping his lips. “Please, buddy. Hang in there. We’re going to figure this out, I promise.” Andy barely nods, giving the man a brief thanks and a hug goodbye.

He leaves the house and you barely bite your lip, but start bringing empty dishes to the sink to rinse them off. “Do you have enough food?” you ask, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him. “I have some free time this weekend, I’d be happy to make you some more…”

He’s quiet for a few moments before he steps closer to you. “I don’t need food, Y/N.” He mutters, running his fingers through his brown hair, his features filled with nothing but tension. “I don’t need food, I don’t need sympathy-- you know, I don’t even need my wife.” You’re about to wash the dishes but you sense a whole new level of gravity to this conversation, and so you slowly turn around to face him. “I… Are you two getting divorced, then? I thought you were just taking some time apart… you know, temporarily.” Andy and Laurie had always seemed like such an amazing couple to you, especially considering your own parents were divorced. Their love for Jacob was immense, and they always looked so happy to you as a whole. You supposed experiencing such a traumatic incident could change that.

“I don’t want to be with her anymore.” He speaks bluntly, coming to stand next to you and leaning against the counter, blue hues looking back towards the window. “She doesn’t get me the way I thought she did.” You look up at him, feeling strangely intimidated- something you had never felt around him before. “Andy,” you speak quietly, “do you think maybe that’s because… you’ve changed?”

There’s a silence for a few seconds, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far. He’s still looking to the window, but he looks as though he’s pondering over this thought. “I’m sorry.” You finally say, clearing your throat and turning to the sink. “I shouldn’t have said that, I know this is a hard time for you. For all of us. Let me finish up he-”

“No.” Before you know it, his hands are on your waist, spinning you back around so that you’re facing him, his own body now completely turned towards you. “Tell me, Y/N. Do you think I’ve changed?” His voice is lower, his eyes locked onto yours, his grip securing your hips tightly. You widen your eyes slightly, thrown off to say the least. You’d be lying if you said you’d never had the silly little daydream of being this close to Andy Barber, let alone being in his arms. Even as a 16 year old, you had somewhat of a puppy crush on the older man, finding his chiseled features, perfectly groomed facial hair, and built stature incredibly handsome. Still, you had never felt anything more for him- you couldn’t even allow yourself to. He’s your neighbor, one of your father’s close friends-- hell, he’s a father himself, of a boy you used to babysit.

But even throughout the years of slightly crushing on him, a scenario like this had never quite exactly popped into your head.

“Maybe a little,” you whisper, staring up into his eyes somewhat nervously. You practically don’t recognize the man you’re looking at. However, you aren’t scared of him. You’re scared of what he must be feeling, of everything he’s going through. He’s not dangerous. He’s helpless, he’s afraid, he’s in despair. “But I don’t blame you for changing. I think it’s just because of everything you’re dealing with.” You explain, slowly placing your hands over his. “Andy, maybe you should… let go…”

“Do you know what I need, Y/N?” he asks suddenly, still holding you tight, and you remember your conversation just a few moments ago. Not food, not sympathy, and not even his wife. “What?” you ask softly, your heart pounding. He leans down and you nearly shiver; his lips are mere inches away from yours, his breath warm and almost taunting. “I need a fucking release.” He mutters through slightly clenched teeth, and you can see the vein in his neck slightly bulging. He’s angry. He’s sunk. He’s in need.

“Okay.” You find yourself breathing out, and that’s all he needs. A husky growl escapes from deep within his throat as he crashes his lips against yours, hands pulling your body even closer until it’s pressed up against his. It isn’t long before he’s simply scooping you up into his arms, lips still connected in a heated kiss as he brings you to the living room, though you quickly make a whimper of protest before he can toss you onto the couch. “W-wait,” you practically gasp as you pull back, already breathless, “not here, the… the window…” Your cheeks are bright red as you glance towards the large living room window, the thought of your father or even any neighbor seeing the two of you making you beyond uncomfortable. You already can’t believe you’re doing this, but you have to admit, his kiss in itself is more than convincing. You can’t help but want more.

He seems like he wants to chuckle, and you know the old Andy would have shown at least some form of amusement. This one, however, seems to be running on some type of agenda, and so he simply nods with a somewhat impassive face. “As you wish.” He murmurs, easily carrying you up the stairs and to the bedroom. You feel guilty once again knowing that he once shared this room with Laurie, but when he practically throws you upon the mattress and crawls over you to kiss you again with even more intensity than before, this guilt goes flying out the window. For now, anyways. You kiss him back just as fiercely, moving your hands to run your fingers through his beard and his soft, soft hair, back arched desperate for the feeling of his hips against yours.

“Fuck,” he mumbles shortly as he moves his open mouth down to your neck, biting and sucking roughly. “A-Andy!” you let out a high pitched hiss, gripping his hair, “N-not too rough, don’t… don’t leave any marks…” He nips at your shoulder in response, moving one of his hands down to rub against your clothed entrance. “How many boys have you slept with before, Y/N?” he murmurs huskily into your skin, teeth still teasing your sensitive flesh. You can’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you enjoy the pressure of his fingers in your lower region. “Only… only one…” you mumble softly, somewhat embarrassed- you’ve got to be far more inexperienced compared to him. “And how old was he? Your age?” he asks, finally pulling back to look down at you with a look so intense, you don’t even realize he’s pushing down your pants. “A year older- o-oh!!” you cut off your own answer with a moan when you feel his digits pressing up against your now damp panties, rolling your hips unable to help yourself. “You’re already wet for me.” He notes, kneading at the wet spot roughly with his knuckle making you whimper. “Naughty girl. Is fucking a man nearly twice your age a fantasy of yours?” Your cheeks turn bright red as you stare up at him somewhat flustered, having no idea how to answer this. He raises a brow, hooking two fingers in your panties and tugging them down, his thumb now moving to rub your clit. “I asked you a question.”

“Mm…!” you moan, your breaths becoming heavier. “N-not just any man…”

He smirks, and you’re expecting him to pry the rest of the answer out of you, but it seems he’s satisfied enough. You can also sense he’s not all that interested in talking at the moment, anyways. He pushes one finger inside you and your whimpers become more high pitched, your head tilting back. “Oh… oh, Andy,” you moan, and he clucks his tongue, pumping harder. “You’re fucking tight. I’m going to need to stretch you out a bit if you’re going to fit me.”

You gaze at him with slightly wide eyes, your lips parted and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-what do you…” you start to ask, but instead let out a gasp when he pushes another finger inside, your teeth tugging at your lip hard. “Mmn…!” He pumps both inside you at a steady pace, watching you with dark eyes. “You can take it. C’mon, Y/N.” You slowly begin moving your hips in sync with his movements, whines becoming moans of pleasure, head rolling back all over the pillow.

A third finger slides in, and your back practically lifts off the mattress. “It’s… it’s too much…!” you whimper through shut eyes, though at the same time, you don’t want him to stop. He knows just how to maneuver his fingers, and it’s now clear that you’ve been missing out by not hooking up with older men. “How about now?” he murmurs deeply, slightly crooking his fingers and moving them expertly in rhythmic motions, finding your sweet spot as if he knew exactly how the entire time. “A-ah… fuck, right there!” you find yourself cursing, and at this, he chuckles lowly, continuing to pump in the same spot. “There you go. Come for me, Y/N, go ahead.” He practically coos, his tone oddly encouraging yet dark at the same time-- nonetheless, you release with a loud moan, your chest heaving underneath your light sweater, your skin hot and crimson.

“Good girl.” He does not waste any time as he pulls back, and therefore you have none to get yourself together. Withdrawing his fingers, he briefly sucks on them before nodding towards you. “Take that shirt off or you’re going to overheat. I want to see all of you.” He’s already removing his own shirt, hastily reaching down to unzip his pants and remove his briefs as well. You blush but sit up, trying to control your breaths as you lift your shirt off over your head, thankful you didn’t embarrass yourself by somehow getting stuck in it. All he has to do is gaze towards your bra and arch an eyebrow expectantly; you instantly reach behind to unhook it, biting on your lip. However, when your eyes drift down to his length, they immediately widen. He’s long, and thick.

You realize what he meant before.

“Lie back down.” He commands, and you obey, though you’re still nervous. “I… just… be careful…” you somewhat pathetically manage, and he looks down at you for a few moments before barely smirking. “You don’t think I don’t know what I’m doing?” He reaches over to the nightstand, taking a condom out of the drawer and putting it on. You still can’t help but stare. There’s no way you’re coming out of this without feeling sore and aching. And yet you still feel undeniably aroused, your heart practically pounding out of your chest from desire and need. He pumps himself as he guides his shaft towards your entrance, his breath hitching as he presses up against you. “Fuck, this is going to feel so damn good.” He mumbles, pushing his hips forward and thrusting inside you with a low groan. You inhale sharply, reaching up to grip his shoulders, head tilting back once again. “Oh… mm… Andy…”

“God my name sounds good coming out of your mouth.” He scoffs, bucking his hips harder as he pushes more of his length inside you. “Fuck. You like that, Y/N? You like the way I stretch you out like this?” You can only nod weakly, his dominating thrusts soon overpowering every inch of you, rocking your body back and forth as if you’re nothing but a little doll underneath him. He was not kidding about needing a release. Every rough movement, every clench of his jaw, every grunt and groan that slips out of his throat-- he’s had pent up frustration for a long time now, and it’s evident he’s going to let it all out on you.

He reaches out to hold the bedpost with one hand to support himself, other hand placed on the mattress by your shoulder only to swing his hips even faster, the bed now beginning to creak. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight.” He hisses in a pleasured rasp, his breaths heavy and uneven as his knuckles begin to whiten from his tight grip. He keeps thrusting into you hard, eyes staring down at your body below him-- until he suddenly changes it up, adjusting himself so he’s on his knees before grabbing your legs and pushing them back by your head. “Flexible little thing.” He breathes out, bucking his hips roughly as he groans louder. You let out a string of intangible moans and mewls, eyes rolling back as he keeps fucking you, practically jackhammering into you at this point. “Andy! Andy, I-I’m close!” you’re practically screaming, even holding your own legs for him and digging your fingers into your own flesh as a form of release. He smirks breathlessly, shaking the sweat out of his hair as he keeps going. “Go on then,” he grunts, “come for me again.”

You release, panting heavily as you stare up at the ceiling, and he comes soon after with a low groan of satisfaction. You watch as he slowly pulls out, moving back to stand beside the bed, carefully disposing of the condom in the bin before running his fingers through his slightly graying beard. “Thank you.” He rolls his neck to either side then looks at you, and you can practically see at least some of the stress having faded away in his features. “I needed that.” You sit up, suddenly reaching out to take his arm, gently pulling him down to sit next to you. He blinks, turning his head to look at you with simultaneous confusion and curiosity. You hold his hand on your lap, rubbing his knuckles slowly. “This isn’t going to fix anything, Andy, and you know that.” You mumble softly, “But I promise. Everything will be alright. He… he’s going to be okay. And so are you.”

He looks at you for a few seconds and you’re a little nervous he’s simply going to shut you down, but he nods. “Thank you.” His words actually seem genuine, and instead of displaying frustration and hostility, he only seems… worried. Distressed. Like a true father, one with compassion, empathy, and who only wants the very best for his beloved child.

You gently lie him down in the bed, rubbing his chest. “Get some sleep, Andy. Please.” You whisper, and he stares at you before exhaling deeply and tiredly, nodding his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

You can’t help yourself when you lean over and kiss his forehead. “I’ll… come check in on you tomorrow. Goodnight.” You pick up your clothes and leave the room, closing the door behind you. Quickly getting dressed on the landing of the stairwell, you walk downstairs and peer out the window facing your house, relieved to see your father’s car isn’t in the driveway yet. You turn off all the lights before exiting out the front door, steps light as you walk through the grass separating your driveways, entering your own home- your heart still racing. You can’t believe what you’ve done.

Furthermore, you can’t believe that you want to do it again.

#andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #chris evans smut #andy barber

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Summary:

After calling upon the decision to test the waters between carnivores and herbivores, things at Cherryton Academy turn far more tense than they already were. Unsurprisingly, there are those who poke fun at the decision, both with good and bad reasons at hand. Calling the academy out on such high of a risk's understandable, but mocking carnivores for making friends with their opposites isn't.

Having been sheltered through seventeen years of homeschooling and the rigid rule of never going out at night, you far from expect being allowed to attend there after your eighteenth birthday. Regardless, you don't plan on cowering back. Your want to expose yourself to the real world, meet new people, and live through new experiences outweighs that fear, transforming it into strength.

Act One | Man's Best Friend

[Previous] | [Next]

Already messy files almost end up scattered on the floor, yet you manage to salvage them right on time. Your hands and legs shake just as fast as your heart beats; even breathing is a challenge with how stressed your mind is. Being around a large number of people wasn't the norm in your home; you'd been used to being a close family of six since you were born, and nothing more. Spending time with others beyond relatives was a rarity, as was the idea and agreement of having you study your final year in Cherryton -- far outside the safety of your home. Now that you're eighteen and near to graduating, your family's given you three simple rules to follow: never step out of campus at night, never join acting, and never show daintiness. All three of them emphasize the word 'never'; not a single space for protest or bargain is left in those rules. You knew the consequences of going out at night, as well as the risks of calling forth unwanted attention by choosing not to dress how you were told and letting any sort of bubbly nature out. Being forbidden to join acting was by far the only thing they hadn't explained to you by full.

"Your dorm is through here," Jack says, pointing with his eyes and snout over to a busy hallway.

While the person giving you the tour isn't exactly the type you were warned of before being admitted into this school, he isn't exactly of your type either, but more of a happy medium between the two: a dog. Not quite a carnivore and not quite a herbivore, he's what you learned to be an omnivore -- a kind you were taught to be wary of just as much as a wolf or a lion. Even then, his presence is about as warm and welcoming as sun rays on a cold, winter day, and you find it hard not to smile when he continues to show you around the place. He only ever stops when he sees he's left you far behind, a product of you losing yourself in your thoughts and the new world around you.

His excitement is one you wish you could manifest just as much as him, though the reminder of how you had to behave at this school leads you to brush and bury those ideas away and hold yourself back.

"Are you okay?"

Jack's question paired up with his careful tone help pull you out of your daydreaming. How concerned he looks makes you take note of the expression you're carrying. Oftentimes, you scrunched up your snout and furrowed your brow -- whenever you became lost in thought, mostly. To any outsider like him, it would seem as if though you're bothered by something, so you hurry in your reply, words leaving you in a rush, "I'm okay." Your smile returns as you meet his eyes. "I just… I got caught up with something else."

"Nervous about staying here?"

"About everything, honestly."

He lets out a laugh at that, and his gaze brightens as he motions for you to follow him once more.

Your next destination is what appears to be the rooms you were informed of at the beginning of your visit -- judging by the rows of doors laid around, along with one of them left open, displaying a bunk bed in the background. There's a student by the dresser, combing her fur without so much as bothering to look at you or Jack. She's far too focused on her brushing to acknowledge she's left the room visible to those wandering outside, though -- with her being a wolf -- you assume she's confident in herself. Or you believe so, at the very least, as based on the rumours your parents and every other family member taught you.

You halt when you notice Jack stops right by that door and see him gesture over with his head for you to step inside.

"Is this allowed?" you blurt out, rushing to cover up not a minute after that question leaves your mouth. "O- Oh gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that."

"It's alright," he says, chuckling. "I know you're homeschooled, so if you have any questions about how things work here, feel free to ask me!" He stops for a moment and seems to recall something along the way. "And you can come over to my place, too, if you need more help with showing you around."

"How bold of you to invite a girl into the boys' dorm, Jack."

A feminine voice comes from behind him, and -- soon after -- the wolf from earlier appears next to the dog. She directs a cheeky grin at him, then a friendlier smile at you. "You're my roommate, aren't you?" she says, nodding her head in the direction of your dorm. "What are you standing there for? I want to get to know you!" She sounds about twice as cheerful as Jack acts. "I was told about your arrival almost three whole months ago, so the wait has been long enough."

"...You're Juno?" you ask, making memory of the list handed over to you just a few hours ago.

She nods, eyes softening. "(Y/N), right? It's... nice to have a herbivore who won't look for a change of dorms the second she sees me."

Already feeling guilty, you can only hope she hadn't heard you earlier ago. It was a known fact you tended to speak without thinking sometimes (if not, most of the time), so you make a mental note out of it and set up a goal to improve on that throughout the rest of the year. You thank Jack and say your goodbyes before following her into the room.

At the sound of the door closing, you breathe a sigh of relief with the knowledge you've made it this far without screwing up too badly. The next thing in mind is to try sparking up some conversation, but only when you make enough mental preparation for it -- aware your thoughts might run haywire and tactless again. "But... Why would they do that? Isn't it normal at this school?"

Juno shows you around the room and stops next to one of the beds, bottom one being the only one out of all the others around to have some of her possessions settled down on it. "It's allowed," she replies and continues with, "And though it's not too uncommon for both carnivores and herbivores to be placed together... Things got a lot more tense after a student's passing." Her ears droop along with her tail, and a hint of gloom clashes with her friendly demeanor. "That's why you're the only other woman in this room, and why I…" Her body shudders as she lets out a breath. "Why I try not to walk alone in the halls anymore." She takes another breath and lets it out with a huff. A hushed swoon then seems to take her over, replacing her sadness about as quickly as her ears go back up. "Although... I guess I wouldn't have met someone wonderful, if some students hadn't cornered me for being a carnivore not long after I arrived here."

The wolf sighs, then faces you with droopy eyelids and a softer smile. "Tell me, (Y/N)... Have you ever fallen in love? It's the most incredible feeling I can describe!" She sits down on the bottom bed, though she scoots aside, leaving you some space next to her. "They say your last year at school's the last chance you have for experiencing an emotion so strong, but I like to believe it will carry on as long as your love is powerful enough for it!"

While you're a bit lost as to what point she's trying to make, you smile and nod along as you wait for her to continue speaking.

After all, having two friends at the beginning of your final school year didn't sound like a bad idea. Hopefully, your lonely days would start to change; your conversation with Jack and your current one with Juno have been -- without much exaggeration -- the most interaction you've had during all your eighteen years of living. Knowing you were finally free to meet as many people as you'd want as well as study over brand-new things and the relationships between both kinds made your worries and doubts more than worthwhile. No matter how often your family and distant acquaintances warned you otherwise, you needed to grow, learn, explore, and see more outside what was taught to you at home.

You hear Juno out until she asks if you have a special someone yourself; the question turns out to be a bit of a difficult one to answer with how little people you knew to this day. So far, the only experience you remember similar to that of having a crush on someone was by reading stories of adventure and challenge when you were younger. All of these were confiscated by your family whenever you gained too many ideas, fell for a character, or whenever a book so much as mentioned the word carnivore between its pages -- in a light aside from that of hostile and negative.

Although it feels like nothing short of wishful thinking, you hope your current circumstances change soon with the new path being offered out to you; in that, you carry a strong and unshakable desire over.

And, who knows?

Maybe one day you'd be able to sneak out and watch the night sky, too -- and with a friend or two by your side, preferably.

"I don't, but…" You trail off to consider her question; overwhelmed by the changes and influenced by her energetic self, you find it hard not to follow along with her. "I wouldn't mind having one -- if that opportunity ever came around!"

[Previous] | [Next]

#various x reader #legoshi x reader #legosi x reader #haru x reader #jack x reader #juno x reader #rouis x reader #louis x reader #beastars x reader #female reader #sheep reader #slow burn #romance #mystery #thriller #lgbt #lgbt themes #long fic

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bullshittierlists · 3 years

Photo

Spoilers for DR1, obviously. I decided to remake this list because my opinions on all of the characters have changed significantly since the last time. I’m honestly not even super happy about this one.

I see no god up here other than me:

Kiyotaka Ishimaru - Oh my lord, he’s perfect in every way (except for the thing, which I’ll get to). He’s funny, he doesn’t feel entirely insignificant, and he’s got a cool, sad backstory to dive into if you like him enough, but it isn’t required to do so throughout the main game. Everything about his genius/hard-working motif is brilliant. I think it’s incredible how he’s actually the opposing force to Komaeda rather than Junko, even though no one talks about it and the game doesn’t really use it that much. His whole backstory with his grandfather and father is so sad and I’m so proud of him for getting to be where he is today, even if it didn’t quite happen how he wanted it to. The one exception to this practically perfect prefect is, of course, the elephant in the room, Kiyondo Ishida. Here’s the thing: I think Kiyondo could’ve worked really well. However, as far as I know, Taka was swapped out last minute with Hiro and had to die in chapter 3. I honestly think this was the worst decision the franchise made after making Mikan... the way that she was. The only reason people hate Hiro is that he survived the first game. I’ll get to this more later, but I honestly really enjoyed his character for the first three chapters. After that, though, he got a little stale and even a bit annoying, especially the Kyoko being a ghost bit. I feel like Hiro really overstayed his welcome and his presence could’ve been more than made up for by the comedic duo of Hina and Taka. I understand that choosing the survivors of each game is difficult and a very meticulous process, but let’s just consider the interactions with other characters for now. To start with, Hiro hardly had any positive interactions with any of the other characters in the back half of the game outside of Hina calling him out for being an idiot. If we put Taka in his place, he could’ve had serious moments with Kyoko and Makoto, helping them to solve some of the mysteries. He also could’ve played off of Byakuya and Toko’s relationship in telling them that PDA is “not welcome in a school environment.” And the crowning jewel of missed opportunities, his interactions with Hina. They’ve both lost their best friends in the whole world and have no one to rely on. In canon, Hina had to do a character 180 just to keep up with Hiro’s idiocy and not break down about losing Sakura. However, if we had Taka, he could’ve helped her to get through it because he would’ve already gotten over Mondo with the help of Ishida. See? I brought it back around. If Taka had been able to resolve his issues with Ishida in chapter 3, he would’ve been able to help Hina to develop her character through the loss of Sakura in chapter 4. I think this would’ve been so much better for both of their characters and I weep for what could’ve been. But for some reason, Hiro just had to stick around.

Mondo Owada - I’m honestly surprised I talked about Taka for that long without mentioning Mondo. I don’t actually have a lot to say about Mondo that I won’t get to with Chihiro, but this is basically your warning to be ready for another rant and it also serves as a break from the last one. Mondo and Taka are perfect for each other, Mondo is the most sympathetic killer, bar none, and even though I’m not a huge fan of dogs, Chuck is so precious.

You’re the best:

Celestia Ludenberg - Pretty goth lady. That’s about it. She could’ve been better in chapter 3, but I honestly still really liked her plan and her breakdown was phenomenal. My favorite thing about her though is her execution. Her execution fits into the thin category of executions that include the element of specific despair, basically meaning that Monokuma made it specifically to make her sad apart from the fact that she was dying. She was ready and honestly excited to be burned at the stake because it would guarantee her an interesting death and therefore an interesting life. But then, she ends up just dying in another boring old car accident, many of which happen every day. It’s fun to watch her expression and demeanor change throughout her execution, it’s one of my favorites.

Chihiro Fujisaki - Oh boy, it’s the one I expect to get hate for. Buckle up, lovely people, it’s time to get personal. I personally headcanon Chihiro to be a cisgender male; however, I also believe that you can headcanon anyone to be anything you want. There is an exception and it’s when that headcanon specifically derails something the character was trying to present. In this case, it’s toxic masculinity and the importance of appearances in society. I’ll preface this whole section with a statement: I’m not trying to be transphobic. I could see Chihiro being a trans male, but cis or trans female just feels counterproductive to me. Let me explain. Chihiro’s entire existence is used to parallel Mondo’s. Chihiro has a strong will with a weak body, while Mondo has a strong body with a weak will. Mondo is seen, in canon, as a super manly character who is strong in both heart and body, but he doesn’t believe himself to be this way. The only strength he’s ever seen is through aggressive violence, and that’s how he shows his strength. This is proven in the fact that when he felt weak against Chihiro’s strong will, he killed him out of fear, which he had grown to believe was strength. However, since Chihiro had a weak body, people treated him as unmanly, even though he was strong-willed, so he believed that everything about him was weak and learned to be submissive to everyone else’s desires. This is proven in the fact that he dressed and acted the way he did specifically to please others, not himself. It’s shown in multiple free time events that he hates the way that he looks and that he hates dressing to appease other people. It’s not even necessary to turn to the FTEs to gain this information, it’s obvious from the fact that he goes to Mondo specifically to get stronger in what he thinks is both mind and body, as he’s been known to think that the two are connected. It can also be understood from his dialogue that he wasn’t trying to get physically stronger for himself, he was perfectly comfortable with his body, he wanted to get physically stronger so that other people would leave him alone. These are the effects that bullying had on him. Maybe I’m misunderstanding, but whenever I see Chihiro as female, trans or otherwise, it feels as though those people want Chihiro to subject to the bullying because it more closely fits their ideal. It just feels like evidence of toxic masculinity because since Chihiro is feminine, he must be female, even if he says otherwise. The difference to me between this and say, trans Gundham headcanons is that with Gundham, there’s nothing in his character that goes either way, so it’s fine to headcanon him however you want. But when Chihiro explicitly states that he wants to be seen as male, he’s ignored and pushed aside as “another missed opportunity for trans representation.” But he’s not a missed opportunity for representation, he’s just representing something else, toxic masculinity. It’s obvious that it goes over people’s heads because they don’t seem to understand this at all. I’m not trying to be rude, I just want people to understand that just because the representation isn’t specifically for the group you want, doesn’t mean that it isn’t good representation. I can talk about this more if anyone wants me to, but it’s almost 1 AM and I’m not sure how much longer and I can form cohesive sentences and I’m not sure this is the best argument to test that on.

Genocide Jack - Idk, she’s funny. I’ve already gotten past most of the characters I have strong opinions on. Whereas in the second game, I have strong feelings about my favorites *and* my least favorites, I really only have favorites in this game and everyone else is pretty neutral.

Byakuya Togami - He was actually originally my second favorite character, but I realized a good way into the series that I didn’t actually like him that much. He’s not as smart as he claims to be and he isn’t as well written as Komaeda or Kokichi. However, he does have one truly fantastic moment in the first game and that is during chapter 4. When it’s revealed that Sakura killed herself, he shuts down. It’s impossible for something to have happened that he didn’t predict and he truly believes that. It’s incredible to see his complete shift in character (at least for this trial) and I absolutely adore that moment. Everything else with him is still kinda meh.

Hey, I think you’re really cool, I like you a lot:

Sakura Ogami - There’s literally nothing about her that I can say that hasn’t been said already. She’s perfect and I love her for it.

Aoi Asahina - Like I said during my Taka rant, I think she would’ve been much better if she didn’t have to accommodate Hiro. The first game had a much darker tone than the second and Toko/Genocide Jack already had the comedic relief role covered. She and Taka could’ve still had their fair share of funny moments together, but I feel like she could’ve gone through Akane’s arc during the second game, but better because she would’ve been able to build off of Taka, who already went through the same thing. Either way, she’s cute and I adore her and Sakura’s friendship.

Sayaka Maizono - So I actually made this list back in January (it’s currently the middle of April) and just never got around to making it and since then, I’ve fallen in love with Sayaka. It may or may not have to do with me being cast as her in a secret project that I’ll announce later, but she has my heart regardless. Now, I’d probably put her behind Chihiro and ahead of Genocide Jack. She’s just such an interesting character and while it’s a shame that she died so early, I still think she wouldn’t have been as good if she didn’t die so soon. For the record, I think both Sayaka and Leon were morally in the wrong. However, Sayaka was doing it for her friends, while Leon could’ve stopped at any time and really only went back for himself. Sayaka is not a snake. Thank you, goodnight.

Mukuro Ikusaba - She’s definitely my neutral point. I have one of these in every DR game, even if I don’t realize it. I just don’t really have any opinions on her and it’s not even because she wasn’t in the game for very long. I just don’t know how to feel about her. I just finished Danganronpa: Zero and that boosted Junko way up in my book, but it didn’t really change my opinion on Mukuro at all.

Kyoko Kirigiri - I get the hype, I really do, but I just can’t get into her. For starters, I don’t like Naegi all that much, so of course I’m not going to like the people that hang around him all the time. The most I’ve ever liked her is while watching videos of her along with “Not So Bad A Dad” from Phineas and Ferb. Other than that, she’s extremely neutral for me.

Toko Fukawa - I’m including her appearance in Ultra Despair Girls, but it didn’t really help her much. I liked her in the first game, but it was only because I was going through a weird phase of obsessing over people and now I just think it’s weird because it is. I went into Ultra Despair Girls knowing that she got character development and then completely forgot to pay attention to it because I was so enraptured by the Warriors of Hope. So, I don’t know, she’s just kinda creepy and I didn’t really notice her (or Komaru, for that matter) in UDG.

I remember you:

Junko Enoshima - Like I mentioned during Mukuro’s segment, I just finished Danganronpa: Zero and it was a wild ride. I made this list before I had even started the book and I was mostly just confused by Junko. I didn’t understand her motivations or any of her plans, much less how she was able to achieve anything she was. But once I finished DR0, it all made sense. I won’t spoil it here, but she was incredible in that book and I wish I had caught on to everything earlier.

Makoto Naegi - I feel bad, but I have to compare him to the other protagonists. He’s just so boring, and I know that that’s the point of a protagonist, but Hajime proves that it doesn’t have to be that way. Makoto’s just kinda there all of the time. For example, in DR0, he shows up for one scene, but he literally doesn’t even do anything. He stands there, talks to Ryoko, is scared during a fight scene, and is never seen again. It’s really frustrating to know that he’s only there because he was the protagonist of the first game and it’s like “Wow, you know this character!”

Yasuhiro Hagakure - My only opinion on him is that he should’ve died in chapter 3. My only explanation for why he was so high on the original list is because I watched this one hysterical panel for DR1 and Hiro was by far the best character there. In the game itself, I liked him until he overstayed his welcome and cost Taka his shot to be memorable.

Leon Kuwata - I honestly can’t explain why I dislike him so much, I just really, genuinely do. He’s just kind of annoying, but that’s about it. Like I said before, I don’t really hate many of the characters from this game, they’re mostly all loved or neutral and he’s just the most negative neutral.

You are literally the worst. Actual scum. Leave this planet and never return:

Monokuma - You know the drill by now if you’ve seen my other DR tier lists, it’s kind of an obligation at this point.

Hifumi Yamada - Why. Why is he like this? Why is he this way? Honestly, he’s not nearly as bad as Teruteru or Kazuichi in the perv department, but I just hate him so much. I don’t understand why he is the way that he is, but I do understand that I’m happy he died in chapter 3. Honestly, I could’ve done with him dying earlier, but it is what it is.

It’s 1:15 AM and I am done writing. I’ve been putting this off for months and I figured it was finally time to get it over with and it definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact that I can’t sleep. I hope you enjoy all of this and if you would like me to elaborate on anything, just drop me an ask and let me know. I’m always happy to explain any of my opinions and want to make sure I’m as clear as possible. Please do not spread hate about me until you’ve made sure you understand my point. Then go to town.

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thecrownrp · 3 years

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THE KINGDOM OF CLOVERS PRESENTS . . .

one of the SECOND TIER PRINCE candidates, HAN HYUNSU: a 25 YEAR OLD born on AUGUST 20TH, 1996. some may know them as THE COLD BLOODED but with a face like that, it’s hard not to admit they look a little like KIM TAEHYUNG ( V ). curious to know more? apparently, these are words they live by: “i don’t think i could stand to be where you don’t see me.” intriguing, aren’t they? only time will tell if they’re suited for the crown or not.

LOOK A LITTLE CLOSER . . .

tw: mentions of death, murder

i. sixteen

“hyunsu, sit up straight. if you want to be a prince then you shouldn’t slouch.”

hyunsu sighed, fixing his posture before continuing to eat his meal. he knew this entire process was difficult, but he never thought that he’d be under such intense scrutiny. after all, this was dinner time, and was it really a crime to lean over during a meal? hyunsu wanted to talk to whoever decided dinner came with rules because this- to him- was a crime.

the room was so silent, however, he couldn’t help but hear his friend choking on a laugh. yeah, real funny. sue hyunsu for wanting to prevent stains on his apparel. heaven forbid he eats his meal at a 70 degree angle.

“is there something you’d like to share, seonwoo?”

“no ma’am.”

now hyunsu was the one cracking up-- on the inside of course. he couldn’t risk ruining his chances of becoming a prince because of some karma. although, for the record, if they were not in such an intense competition hyunsu definitely would have been on the floor by now.

“something you’d like to share, seonwoo?” hyunsu whispered, mimicking the tone of the advisor’s voice.

“shut up.” seonwoo kicked his leg.

“make me.”

ii. eighteen

throughout hyunsu’s life he always felt like he was fairly grounded. it was easy for him to adapt to becoming a royal because it was all he knew how to do. yet right now he felt like his head was drifting into the space, much like the clouds he watched float amongst the night sky.

he laid on the dewy grass, side by side with seonwoo. neither of them saying a word and instead enjoying the soft sounds of the breeze entangling itself into the branches of trees. the silence was comfortable, though there were many words the two needed to exchange.

why were they denying each other of their feelings? just two friends, nothing more- at least that’s what they settled on. yet, most nights they spent sneaking away to be in each other’s arms. hyunsu’s heart ached. he was being denied his feelings not only by seonwoo, but himself. losing the title of prince was dishonorable, but losing a friendship this strong was something hyunsu couldn’t fathom.

still, almost as if hyunsu could read the mind of his friend, his hand wrapped around seonwoo’s. part of him wished that he could stop time and never escape this moment. although, the fairytale-like feeling of this encounter was the whole reason the two could not express their true feelings. it was a fairytale, nothing more.

“do you love me?”

hyunsu’s heart sank at the question. of course he loved seonwoo, but how could he confess when the two were still meant to be rivals? he could ruin both of their lives with just one word.

“yes.”

iii. twenty

it had been two years since they started sneaking around to flirt with each other, and where were they now? separated by ranks and by hearts. ever since seonwoo became a second tier prince he started to act different- like hyunsu never existed. with his new rank, it was almost like hyunsu was completely out of the picture. he had new friends, ones that spent every hour by his side. the new princes and princesses he met had caught his attention too, and hyunsu could tell.

every moment spent with seonwoo was painful. yes, he loved seonwoo, but he couldn’t help but feel like seonwoo cut him out of the picture- his picture. was he not good enough? was being seen with a third tier prince too humiliating for him? no matter how much seonwoo assured him in private, hyunsu couldn’t believe that seonwoo truly loved him. he felt played. the two spent their private moments with continuous arguments.

“i’m just saying you’ve changed ever since... well-”

“are you not happy that for once i’m happy? does everything revolve around you, hyun? are you that self-centered?”

what made matters worse was the new prince who caught seonwoo’s attention. and despite being reassured that he was just a friend, hyunsu felt like he was tossed aside for the next best thing. whatever, hyunsu knew his worth and that’s all that mattered, right? he was just in disbelief, watching his loved one morph into someone he couldn’t even recognize. and when hyunsu’s discomfort was brought up, he was instantly matched with more negative energy.

“can i not be honest? come on, baby. you’re practically wrapped around his finger!”

“i told you it wasn’t like that.”

“then what is it like, seonwoo? tell me what it’s like then? or better yet- tell me what we are because i’m starting to think--”

“nothing. we’re nothing, hyunsu.”

iv. twenty-two ( tw: mentions of murder and death )

since then, hyunsu’s own demeanor changed. seonwoo wanted to play dirty? fine, anything for the throne, right? screw him. hyunsu didn’t need seonwoo, no matter how perfect and in love with seonwoo he was.

he started talking to other princes and princesses, gaining his own friends instead of constantly waiting for seonwoo to give him the time of day. his focus was placed on his competition for the throne. sure, he was still a third tier prince, but in a system like this anything could happen.

“i really think hyunsu might be catching the queen’s attention. have you noticed how she’s been asking for his presence more recently?”

“the queen is generous. she’s just giving the underdog a chance to redeem himself.”

“i don’t know. besides, hasn’t seonwoo been slipping up recently? there’s always a chance a second tier spot opens up.”

usually hyunsu blocked out the gossip in the halls, but this time he couldn’t stop eavesdropping. the queen? taking a liking towards him? perhaps it was finally the day he got to prove himself worthy of being called a second tier prince. finally he could bring honor to his family, and more importantly show seonwoo how much he was missing out on.

it was unfortunate, however, that the one person standing in his way was the one he loved- well- loved previously. now seonwoo was just some stuck up second tier prince. and hyunsu wasn’t perfect, but he knew that seonwoo wasn’t worthy of the throne.

they called him kind and generous; the kind of prince to bring a surplus of fortunes to a king when asking to court their prince/ss. sure, hyunsu agreed that seonwoo, despite having a terrible personality, was incredibly hot. kind and generous? not so much, at least not anymore.

and at this point hyunsu couldn’t be within close proximity of seonwoo without feeling a rush of emotions. he was angry for the way seonwoo completely pushed him away without reason. sadness overcame him when he realized that this whole time seonwoo probably was using him the whole time. most of all? hyunsu felt jealous because he knew that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it.

something had to be done; hyunsu couldn’t keep spending everyday trying to ignore the fact that seonwoo was truly better off without him. furthermore, it sucked that hyunsu was stuck in his past lover’s shadow.

so he begged seonwoo to meet him one last time. hyunsu knew seonwoo didn’t care for him anymore, but he didn’t care. his heart was broken, his ego shattered. one last meeting, just the two of them, to get closure of his own.

somehow hyunsu was able to get seonwoo to fall right into his trap, and the two shared drinks under the moonlit windows. if it wasn’t for the years of anger and hurt, maybe hyunsu would have begged seonwoo to love him once more, but it was too late. there was no turning back. if seonwoo wanted to play dirty then hyunsu was determined to become the king of playing dirty. no matter how charming seonwoo looked, with flushed cheeks and a smile that could kill, it was too late to forgive seonwoo for fucking hyunsu over.

fuck you, seonwoo. fuck you.

“let’s raise a toast.” hyunsu raised his glass. he began to smile, almost as if he knew he was soon to be free of seonwoo’s firm grasp, “i think i’m finally starting to see eye-to-eye with you again, seonwoo. let’s raise a toast, to us.” their glasses clinked. hyunsu took a sip of his wine, keeping an eye on seonwoo, who was clearly enjoying the wine himself.

a few hours later hyunsu found himself carrying the prince to his bed. it was a bittersweet moment for him to say goodnight to seonwoo one last time.

“i don’t feel good, hyun. help.”

“shh, i know. close your eyes for me, love. you could use some sleep.”

farewell, sweet prince.

the next morning seonwoo was pronounced dead.

#cwnfollow #cwn kingdom: clovers #cwn rank: prince #premade: the cold blooded

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tricewithaz · 3 years

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THOTS ON SHADOW AND BONE

Hello everyone! it is I, Trice, and i come with my thoughts on the Shadow and Bone show cause ive got many

I'm gonna divide this in what i liked, what i disliked, and what i think could have been better but didn't really bother me. Feel free to send your opinions too!

As a whole, I really liked the show and I think it's a great adaptation that both fans and newcomers will enjoy. It's super well done! and every episode had me glued to the tv even though I knew what was going to happen.

Beware this is long

To start,

What i liked

Mal and Alina

I never really liked Mal in the books, mainly cause he had like, nothing going on for him, and not having his pov made him no favors whatsoever. Alina's perception of him was everychanging, two factors that didn't make him unlikeable necessarily, but that made me not want to read about him. In the show he's way more likeable and even though he still doesn't have a lot going on for him, you can see that he's always trying to protect alina, and you also see a bit of his demeanor through Archie's acting. I think he made a great job at portraying him. And Alina! Alina who in the books was essentially a y/n sort of character (although she did get better over time), her character, likes, dislikes, her DRIVE was incredibly portrayed in the show. Also Jessie (loml, marry me) and Archie have incredible chemistry together and they sold their yearning SO WELL (and so did the kid actors portraying them as children oh my GOD)...yall...i cried when they held hands. My favourite scene was definitely when Alina took care of Mal's wounds (a favorite trope of mine). And the HURT in their eyes whenever they thought the other was in danger....i saw the show dubbed but I'm sure their voices made it beyond incredible as well, their face acting was just on. point. Overall the show rEALLY makes me root for them both individually and together which is something the books didn't manage to do.

The Darkling

AAAAA i really enjoyed the Darkling omg, incredible charisma, Ben does such a great job (and so did his voice actor in Spanish oh my GOD). His acting was just as I imagined it in the books and i loved how he could be as sweet and mysterious as he could be menacing. In fact! i liked him more than i did in the book, and i think it was a great choice to make him more human. I'm not sure if this was Ben or the writing, but i could really see his yearning for an equal, for Alina, his loneliness and his thirst for power and control too. Great love interest, even greater villain. And his wardrobe was phenomenal. I also really liked how they implied that The Darkling was a name given by other people, it was very believable that people would call someone who literally controls shade something akin to "son of the dark" or something of the sort, instead of it being a name he gives himself or his job title (both if which are incredibly pathetic and cringy to think about).

Jesper

No comments. He was just great. I love Kit.

Nina

Omg Danielle did SUCH a great job at portraying Nina, it's exactly how i imagined her in Six of Crows.

Helnik

THE. YEARNING. THE. CHEMISTRY. I didn't love their scenes at the boat but once that was over I was practically screaming at the screen to jUST KISS ALREADY. Calahan and Daniell have such good chemistry together and the few changes they made only served the story better. I did wish they had development over more time cause Matthias' change of mind felt too quick, but i get why they had to rush. Because of how good their chemistry was, their fallout also was incredibly painful.

Inej's fear of the Menagerie and her morals

Amita's portrayal of Inej's hurt, devotion and her refusal to kill (and later hurt cause she has killed) is incredibly subtle but so SO effective. She's so talented really and truly sold Inej's feelings throughout the show.

VFX

Man.....the fold, the volcra, the grisha powers.....kudos to the animators and overall artistic team cause they were incredible. Also seeing the different title animations in each episode was such a tiny detail that made me so excited and they all looked so good.

Ketterdam

Again, kudos to the artistic team, everything about Ketterdam felt so alive (and weirdly moist), truly sold a kind of aesthetic and life that is so characteristic if the Barrel, even when i didn't imagine it that way in the books.

David

He appeared like, twice, and both times were so cute and charming I can't wait to see more of him both on his own and with Genya.

The Wardrobe

So, at first i hated the keftas. I thought the looked tacky and costume, but when you see them on screen they're just perfect (although i have to say the patterns on some of the keftas were kind of...cheap looking? and the training keftas were just kinda boring. My favourite was the Darkling's. Aside from that, i really liked Kaz's and inej's clothes too. Very distinctive and recognizable (although it was kind of weird seeing Inej in teal instead of purple lmao).

And the queen's dresses. Chefs kiss.

It's...so cheesy (affectionate)

The whole show felt like the kind of movies I would watch as a kid like Harry Potter and Pirates of the Caribbean. The writing was stylized enough to make it incredibly dramatic and overall there was just so much heart behind all of it. Definetely a show to watch again and again and feel all of it, cause that's what it being so cheesy managed, to make me actually feel for it. It feels like something to watch on a rainy afternoon after a bad day....it's great okay i really enjoyed it, even (specially) the most unbelievable parts of it. And here's the thing, it's something that i think a lot of newer tv and film have lost, so this is good.

What i didn't like

Zoya

Mostly cause of the writing. Originally, in the first book, i didn't like her, neither as a character (stereotypical mean girl with no other motivation than to bang the love interests....all three of them....what's new i still think it's an incredibly sexist trope) or a person (hey at least this was intentional), but over time i grew to LOVE her (mean girl turns out to have a good heart and actually respects the mc and decides to fight alongside her cause it's what's right, without necessarily liking her or giving up her character??? AND she has strong motivations??? now THAT'S new). In the show, i hoped they would keep her mean girl nature while foreshadowing her depth, but all they did was turn her into a petty seductress with barely any screentime, and that only makes her not even a bad antagonist but just a boring character to watch. Not only that but they took away a big part of her character that needed to be developed in the next books. I wanted to watch her rivalry with Alina, her unjustified venomous tongue too, I wanted to be entertained by her and I wasn't. This was also a problem cause when she finally changed teams, and when she hugged Alina, it was incredibly unsatisfying, it would have had a way stronger effect if we had seen her being Ruthless Zoya with a big ambition. I also didn't like how we were told that she didn't like alina, or that she had a family, instead of it being shown on screen. Just from the show, all i can tell you about her is that she likes to bang people and she has a good moral code i guess. Yall, I'm so petty about this.

Kaz

So, I didn't hate him, in fact i think I would have enjoyed him if I hadn't read the books first, cause the two things that bother me about him were two essential characteristics of him in the books. FIrstly, he seems so strained, instead of the seemingly laid back, almost chill looking (even though we know he's not chill at all) Kaz we see in the books, the Kaz that always knows something that you don't. Show Kaz doesn't seem to always be in control, to always have the last word, the last laugh. Instead he seems strained, all the damn time. And I think this is mainly a writing and directing issue. And he also seems weak, something Book Kaz would never do. This is also an issue cause because he doesn't have the same presence he has in the books, the times where he is weak, don't seem as effective. Sure, Pekka Rollins has essentially reduced him and humiliated him, but I haven't seen enough of Kaz being actually dangerous for this to be shocking and for Pekka to seem even more hateable (and, i really liked Pekka, loved him as an antagonist more than i did in the books). Idk, Kaz was so charismatic and just fun and engaging to read in the books that his portrayal in the show felt lacking.

Alina's power's VFX

The little suns were cute and all but the light coming from within her was just ugly I'm sorry.

SFX

A lot of the sound design was just too stylized for the tone of the show i think. I particularly remember the sound of Mal's punches....what's that about.

What i think could have been better, but didn't particularly dislike

The Crows' storyline

And i think part of this is a consequence of Kaz not being as witty as he was in the books. Where's the incredibly complicated heist moves? the even more unbelievable C and D plans when something goes wrong? I didn't like that them getting Alina was essentially just luck, cause i didn't see enough of them being smart and quick on their feet. I also think it was unnecessary to have their storyline mixed with Alina's, i would have enjoyed watching a different heist, maybe in Ravka as well, and them incidentally crossing paths with Alina, more than i liked this storyline. ironically enough, the heist was the part i was least interested in

Genya and Alina

I just feel like her relationship with Alina wasn't strong enough, and i think it's because the show tried to make us believe they were much closer than they were without spending the necessary time in them.

Overall, I really really enjoyed the show, i will be watching it again (particularly cause i want to watch it in English) and i cannot wait for the second season omg (although i have to say, I'm scared for Nikolai)

I think that's all! I would also love to read yall's opinions and have a conversation.

#Shadow and Bone #Shadow and Bone spoilers #sab #sab spoilers #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #six of crows #malina #helnik #shadow and bone series #sab review

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

As Lightning to the Children Eased Chapter 5

In which we are still not back on Naboo but Anakin has a Force-breakdown! Read on AO3!

Padmé hadn’t been sure what to expect of their Jedi protectors when she had first met them. They had certainly protected them well against the invading droids, but they had still come too late. Her planet had been invaded, her people hurt, beaten, and forced to endure whatever cruelties she didn’t even dare imagine.

And all of that because the Jedi had been too late and hadn’t been able to talk to the Trade Federation.

For the first few minutes, adrenaline rushing through her veins, fear clinging to her heels and guilt squeezing her throat shut, Padmé had been angry like a child. She had been so incredibly frustrated at them and her own helplessness, even though intellectually she knew very well that it was not the Jedi’s fault that Naboo’s situation had come so far. If anything, she should be glad the Jedi had come at all.

Without their aid, Padmé would likely be rotting away in a cell now, or perhaps even be tortured, or be forced to watch her best friends be hurt just so that the Trade Federation would gain whatever advantage they were aiming for.

For the first time since she had been made Queen, Padmé truly doubted her chosen path. She wondered if any of the other candidates would have done better than her, but when she looked at Eirtaé she only saw the same worries staring back at her. In that split second Padmé was glad that it was Sabé acting as the Queen and that she as Padmé, the Handmaiden, could allow herself a moment of weakness where she didn’t have to hide her emotions.

It had been easier to be Queen when she was a mere representative of the government and not its whole body. The emergency laws now in power gave Padmé much more power than she should carry. They had been created when entertaining the possibility of an invasion, not because they had actually thought it would come this far.

Naboo was a part of the Republic – what use was the Republic if it could not protect its own?

She was bitter and exhausted and she wanted to go home. Not back to the suit in the palace, she wanted to go home to her family. She wanted to hug her parents and play games with her sister and leave this all behind and for once let somebody with more experience deal with it.

Unfortunately, this was not meant to be.

And whatever she had hoped to achieve in the Senate had also crumbled to dust with the Trade Federation once more speaking out against her. Bastards that they were, Padmé wanted to take out her hairpin and stab it right into the representative’s chest, see how he liked it when his heart broke as his people suffered and starved.

“Do you think going back is really the wisest option?” Sabé asked her as they got dressed. Padmé became the handmaiden once more as Sabé took on the appearance of Queen Amidala. It was really been a miracle and a blessing to have Sabé at her side. The Naboo were skilled in hiding their faces and their intentions, but Sabé and her had a special connection, or so it felt at times.

They were closer than sisters. Padmé would even go as far as to call them soulmates, two halves of the same mask.

“I’m not sure,” Padmé replied. She ought to be lying, to be reassuring her friends, but they would all just see through it. They had been taught to read her entire mind by the curl of her painted lips. “But what other option do we have?”

“Think the Jedi will come with us again?” Eirtaé asked. “They were useful, even little Ani.”

Rabé snorted out loud and tugged her hair beneath her hood.

“'Can I fly the ship? Do you know what planets are in this system? Have you ever had Alderaani pudding?’” Rabé’s voice was a little high pitched as she tried to copy the voice of the boy. “’Do you know what makes a star collapse?’”

They all sobered up at that last question.

Anakin had truly chattered endlessly during the whole trip, seemingly untouched by the events that had taken place around him. While his sunny demeanor had been nerve-wracking at first, Padmé had come to enjoy it. It was nice to focus on something that wasn’t politics for just a few hours at a time. Besides, Anakin had been so sure that they would manage to save her people. He had looked so serious as he had said it then, as if it was a fact already. Something about that had just made her want to believe him.

Truth be told, Padmé hadn’t thought that Anakin was old enough to be accompanying them, he was so young for such an undertaking. The Naboo were known for getting their children involved in politics at an age most systems wouldn’t even consider doing such, but he had still looked so much younger than them. Nevertheless, Master Kenobi and Jinn had treated him as their full mission partner.

But who was Padmé to judge the Jedi for their practices, especially after they had helped them so?

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt to ask,” Padmé replied. “And Sabé never did get to share her famed pear pie recipe with him.”

“Oh, don’t remind me!” Sabé groaned. “I’d kill for one of those now!”

The group of girls descended into blissful laughter, the death threats hanging over their heads fading into the background.

Anakin was distracted, Qui-Gon was exhausted and Obi-Wan had to prove to the Council that he was a capable Master and that this mission had gone as well as it could have. From the way the other Jedi Masters were staring at them, he got the vague impression that he was not being as convincing as he could have been.

“-and that was when we landed here,” Obi-Wan finished his statement. “Anakin has proven himself capable and followed my directives exceptionally well.”

The slight joke hit its mark as it did make many Masters smile, if not outright grin. It was well-known that Anakin Skywalker was a little stubborn and all too willing to do things his own way if he thought he knew better. Oftentimes, that ended in utter chaos, for all that Anakin had the knowledge of the entire galaxy stored in his head somewhere, he was still a nine-year-old boy and kids his aged tripped and fell.

It was Obi-Wan’s job to ensure he would also get up again.

“The Queen wants to return to her planet,” Qui-Gon added after he’d been silent throughout the entire briefing.

Obi-Wan barely managed to hide a wince. He had taken over leading their mission briefings a couple of years ago, preparing for his Knighting. Qui-Gon only really spoke up to add to it or, in the cases that had them all stuck up here for hours, to argue about whatever conclusion he had reached and attempt to convince everyone of his opinion. In that way, he was very much Anakin’s grandmaster. “She has called for a vote of no confidence after her Senator’s urging.”

And that move was more than just a little shady. Destabilizing the Republic leadership now was not exactly the smartest move, but Obi-Wan was not a politician and chances were that whatever upheaval would come, it wasn’t going to do much to the Jedi Order. The Senate leadership had become stagnant over the years and their relationship with the Order hadn’t changed much. With every changing terms, the Order maybe got some more requests from Senators that were usually talked over as everybody else was busy gearing up for a campaign. Involving Jedi in your political campaign was always a risky move as public opinion of the Jedi tended to vary a lot. It was a safer bet to keep them out of politics.

“They have requested that we accompany them again,” Qui-Gon finished.

“A wise course of action you think this is?” Master Yoda asked. “Tired Padawan Skywalker is.”

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both looked down at Anakin. He was exhausted, yes, reaching to somewhere far away, zoned out right up until Yoda addressed him.

“I need to go,” Anakin insisted, back straight. “It’s important.”

Obi-Wan actually wouldn’t mind handing the mission off to another pair of perhaps a more experienced Knights, but he knew that expression on Anakin’s face better than anybody else. He was determined to see this through and there was no telling what he’d do if he wouldn’t return to Naboo. Perhaps sneak onto the ship of the ones who would go.

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin nodded, his sun-kissed face oddly pale. “Something’s coming. I need to be there.”

His tone of voice was ominous, his words dripped from his lips like a poisonous prophecy. The Force called and Obi-Wan heard its echo.

And with that their decision was settled.

They made a small stop at the crèche to greet Ahsoka. The excited youngling lit up as soon as she saw them and excused herself in only a short few words before she rushed into Anakin’s waiting arms. From there she quickly climbed upon Obi-Wan’s back and let herself be carried throughout the temple. They didn’t have much time here, not for more for a meal which they had to eat in the cafeteria as Shmi was apparently not in the temple.

“Where is Shmi Skywalker?” Qui-Gon asked the nearest Jedi, a Nautolan Master only a few years younger than himself, as he got something to eat for himself.

“Padawan Skywalker you mean?” the Knight asked, their eyes twinkling with amusement.

Qui-Gon stopped shoveling fruit salad onto his tray. “Padawan?”

The other Jedi Master grinned. “Oh, yes. Haven’t you wondered why Yaddle didn’t attend the Council meeting? She decided to take on Shmi as her Padawan. It was the most brilliant thing.”

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin, who had been caught up in a silent conversation with Ahsoka, miles and two realities away from where they were. “Did you know?”

Anakin tilted his head at the question and closed his eyes for a brief moment, concentrating. When he opened his eyes again, they were a kaleidoscope of colors, a thousand worlds within his sight.

“Yes,” he said his teeth just an edge too sharp in Obi-Wan’s vision. “The kyber’s whispering to her now. She’s going to bring the cleansing fires.” Anakin’s eyes faded to their usual blue color, though the flicker of sunlight didn’t leave them as he reached for Ahsoka’s hands, holding them tight. “It’s not going to like it.”

“It? Who?”

But Anakin stayed silent.

After their meal, Qui-Gon got the notification that the Queen’s departure was delayed and so they had another two hours to relax. As expected, Qui-Gon was dragged back to the Skywalker’s rooms where Anakin and Obi-Wan repacked for their mission. Qui-Gon spent that time napping on the Skywalker’s sofa with little Ahsoka sitting on his stomach, rambling about what she had been up to since they had left the temple. Qui-Gon was fairly sure that when he had been her age, his teachers hadn’t let him even touch a training saber, but the child described in detail how much fun she had had training with one. Saying goodbye to her again hurt a little and silently Qui-Gon vowed not to abandon his lineage or active mission duty until he got to see Ahsoka fight and grow into the terror she was bound to be.

They took a speeder to the hangers of the Senatorial suits where the Queen’s party was already waiting for them. Qui-Gon was glad to see that all the girls were accounted for and visibly perked up when they spotted the Jedi approach them.

“Master Jinn, Master Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker,“ one of the Handmaidens greeted them formally. “We are glad you’ve decided to return to Naboo for us.”

“Of course,” Qui-Gon retorted. “That’s what we are here for.”

“Still,” she replied. “The Queen is aware that you are doing more than we can ask of you three.”

Qui-Gon inclined his head and opened his mouth to speak when suddenly the world shifted-

Pain ripped through him, through the Force, sharp as a lightning strike. A sudden nausea overtook him and Qui-Gon felt as lost as he never had before, not even after Thal’s death. He thought he was drowning, lost in a storm, suffocating endlessly. Something was pulling him into the dark depths of an endless ocean. The void engulfed him and no light from the surface fell into his eyes, leaving him not just blind, but deprived of all sensations. Ice froze his flesh, broke it to pieces, chipped away more and more of himself until only his very soul was left and even then, sharp claws dug into him, pressed intensely into his mind like needles. His consciousness began to bleed, red drops of innocent compassion dropping to the floor like raindrops, becoming muddled with darkness and dirt on the ground.

He vaguely registered Obi-Wan next to him, Anakin too, his shields frayed and bleeding out like a body on a surgical table. Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan reaching out, tugging at his own light and crafting bandages out of them, helplessly wrapping them around Anakin’s very being in hopes of mending the never-ending number of cuts. Where he succeeded, the shields that had always been a little like mirrors, transparent glass reflecting your self in the Force, became durasteel walls of protection, cutting Anakin off so rashly that Qui-Gon was caught off balance. Anakin’s presence in the Force was near unbearable when they had first met him, but his absence was even worse, leaving Qui-Gon a starving man in the desert. On unsteady feet, Qui-Gon stumbled after Obi-Wan and Anakin, whom he thought to see running into the ship, fleeing from the monster they had uncovered.

“Master Jedi?” He thought he heard the Handmaiden ask.

He wanted to reply, and perhaps the words ‘security check’ did leave his mouth, but he couldn’t be too sure, caught in this cruel spiderweb where every move only entangled him more, a prey ready for slaughter. He just walked forwards, hand pressed to his mind, clinging to the cool walls of the hsip, trying to stitch together what had been ripped wide open.

When he came to, he found himself rushing towards the fresher.

Obi-Wan sat there in the small room, looking so much like the boy he had taken as his Padawan in the aftermath of a terrifying trial he shouldn’t have had to go through in the first place. Qui-Gon had been so blind then and now he found himself struck with the same blindness, except the image that was starting to unravel was even worse.

Obi-Wan had collapsed against the wall and Anakin was half in his lap, clammy fingers holding onto Obi-Wan’s robes while his head was lowered above the toilet, vomiting up the few greens he had eaten for their last meal. His whole body seemed to twitch unnaturally like there was something hidden beneath his skin which was even paler than before. Anakin appeared like a ghost only inhabiting this shell for as long as it served its purpose, something much too grand pressed into this small body and rebelling against its constraints. Anakin kept throwing up until only acid burned his throat. He cried, tears running over his cheeks as the cold got closer and closer, so much that Qui-Gon expected to see his own breath as a hazy fog.

“Sssh,” Obi-Wan tried to calm his Padawan, his own eyes bloodshot, the afterimage of a night terror. “All is well, I’m here, we’re warm, we’re safe, all is well, I’m here…”

His ramblings were almost meditative, repetitive, drawing the same pattern, guiding Anakin towards steady breaths as much as they grounded Qui-Gon.

It took another few minutes, or perhaps hours, time slipped away as easily as the light of stars already dead thousands of years, Anakin managed to calm down. He was still a shivering mess in Obi-Wan’s arms, but he was no longer vomiting up his guts or crying uncontrollably.

“What-“ Qui-Gon couldn’t speak. He didn’t know how to describe it, this pain, this agony, the-

Poison, darkness, decay, tor, burn it, BURN IT, IT IS KILLING ME, US, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF MY CHILDREN-

“There was nothing,” Anakin mumbled his soft voice a contrast to the screeching in Qui-Gon’s heart. “It was nothing, just the absence, the end of space and of time and of life and he will deplete us of everything and there will be darkness and there will be no death, there will be nothing!”

Anakin’S voice grew more frantic, louder until Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if Anakin was truly speaking anymore or just carving his words into Qui-Gon’s mind.

“It’s infecting us, I’m sick, sick, bilious, and all that bubbles up my throat are decaying orbits. It’s devouring my flesh and I will leave and the fractures and bigger and bigger and it’s ripping me apart and I can see my heart beating!”

At this Anakin began to curl into himself, placing his hands on his heart. His eyes were glassy, seeing a world Qui-Gon couldn’t perceive and he couldn’t shake this double vision off. “It’s awful, take it away Obi-Wan, I don’t want to be here, I want to go, I want to go, it’s hurting me, I don’t want to be bound anymore, help me, Obi-Wan, please-!“

Anakin began to cry again, scratching at his own skin, deeper and deeper until the scratches turned red.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, his voice in a realm beyond panic. “Anakin, no, no, no, dear one, don’t do this.”

He took Anakin’s hands in his own, so he would stop harming himself, but Anakin only began trashing, resisting. They needed to sedate him and they needed to do it now.

“Sleep,” Qui-Gon ordered, focusing on Anakin.

He’d always been good with mind tricks.

Slipping into another’s mind, finding cracks where to insert your own thoughts and demands. His Master had been worried about it when Qui-Gon had been young. It was an ability easily misused, an ability that made him quite valuable in the right circles if word got out about it and his Master had been keen to protect him from it.

Qui-Gon would be the last to claim that he didn’t rely on it a little too often, but he was also one of the Jedi often sent into the worst of the worst situations. He had never dared to use it on another Jedi, would never think of using it on Anakin whose mind was an uncomfortable place to reside in even when he was peaceful.

There were certain boundaries in every mind. They shifted ever so slightly in every person depending on what you had experienced, but with Anakin, it was simply as if they had never been there in the first place. Qui-Gon didn’t want to look at what rifts ran through Anakin’s mind because he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t lash out and pull him in and swallow him whole. He’d be entrapped in the universe, in the melting point of a star, the heart of existence and he wouldn’t be able to escape.

But what other choice did he have?

“Obi-Wan,” he said, his Padawan’s name command, prayer, and apology all at once. Obi-Wan was the only one so deeply connected to Anakin that he could bear to stand in his revelation. He understood Anakin as much as anybody ever could, to a degree that was foreign to even Shmi and would likely also never be within Ahsoka’s reach. The bond Anakin had forced upon Obi-Wan when he had been driven more by instinct and need than wisdom and control sang with power.

Qui-Gon begged for the same strength.

There was no gentle way of doing this with Anakin.

Qui-Gon took one last breath of sweet air, then he stepped into the wildness of space. It was freezing, but not the all-consuming cold of before, that took from him until he had nothing left, not even his mind. This was cold of existence, the contrast between the endlessness and points of existence near stars that were just ticking bombs, waiting for their final explosion.

All of this was Anakin and Qui-Gon didn’t know what to reach for.

He followed a path of broken glass, sharp emeralds, kyber, dug into his bare feet, leaving cuts all over. Every step was agonizing, depriving him of his strength and taking more than a century. Around him planets were born and destroyed in the same breath as Qui-Gon moved past them into the tangled cadences of orchestras, strings tugging him in different directions, asking him to follow their tune. His vision swam with colors repainting the world he saw.

And still, despite it all, he carried on. The temptation was sweet, he knew he could be home here, in this place where he had been born and where he would go once he ended.

He was one with the Force and the Force was with him, always.

But Qui-Gon refused that they truly wanted him to remain here. This was like Ilum, the innermost sanctums of the temples he had visited, a trial to prove himself.

And Qui-Gon would not fail this child who needed him.

He pushed through another door and found himself embraced by the most humbling of experiences.

“How cruel they were,” Qui-Gon muttered, gazing upon eternity imprisoned in a mortal mind. “Forcing you into this.”

Anakin wept and tried to tear at the chains pinning him down, keeping him constraint in the body that had been crafted for him. He was a mess of blood, stars, nebulas, stories written in languages that had never been spoken and never would again.

Anakin hadn’t been meant to possess a consciousness, Qui-Gon realized. He hadn’t ever been supposed to exist at all. The Force had pushed a scalpel into itself to carve out something that could eradicate all its other infected wounds, but, as with all self-inflicted injuries, this action too had damaged it.

It was the utmost cruelty, to themself and to the being they had created. This task was too much for one person. The entire galaxy was a bleeding, festering wound and Anakin couldn’t be enough to clean it, never mind do all the stitches to close it afterward.

And here Anakin was now, trashing because he had become aware of the darkness growing right beneath their noses. He was panicking because he had glimpsed upon his purpose in this world and had understood down in his very core that he was lacking despite all the gifts he had already been given.

Anakin cried and cried, and Qui-Gon had to watch as the same gentle feathers he sometimes saw flickering outside his vision on his Padawan’s back were trying to cover Anakin’s many all-seeing eyes, take away that horrible truth he had choked on.

But Obi-Wan, for all that he likely understood more of the Force now than Qui-Gon had up until now, was still so young and not strong enough.

Qui-Gon didn’t know if he would be strong enough, but what kind of Jedi would he be if he didn’t at least try?

“Let me teach you one last thing,” Qui-Gon muttered.

Messing with memories was a delicate task. Qui-Gon had read as much about it as the temple archives had permitted him too. He had been terrified at fifteen that he might overpower his hold on another’s mind and would erase their self completely. That in his demand of obedience the Force had gifted him with, he wouldn’t heed its gentle encouragements and push beyond all reasonable requests.

The Jedi were skilled when it came to the manipulation of ones’ self or mind. Revan came to mind, a Jedi made Sith and forged into Jedi again. It hadn’t been perfect, hadn’t been stable, but this needn’t be either.

It just had to be enough.

Qui-Gon laid one hand on the first chain tying Anakin down and tugged at the Force and the way they bound the world together. He just had to reshape it, turn cold metal into warm blankets, not keeping him chained up, but giving Anakin a place to rest and retreat to. If Anakin forgot that these chains were meant to bind him, then perhaps he would cease struggling against them.

One by one Qui-Gon reworked the chains into sweet comforts and watched as Anakin closed his eyes, returning to a peaceful slumber. The child, so much larger than Qui-Gon in his own mind, impossible to entirely understand his beginnings and endings, didn’t grow any smaller. He nevertheless calmed, stopped struggling so that Qui-Gon had to worry less and less about Anakin accidentally cutting himself at these manipulations.

Only the future would tell how long these would hold him back and grant him peace of mind.

Or if Anakin would ever forgive him for this once he discovered how Qui-Gon had warped his reality just to keep him tied to them a little longer.

“It is done,” Qui-Gon announced, his voice echoing in the small fresher.

His knees buckled under him and he caught himself on the washbasin only in the last second.

Anakin was asleep in Obi-Wan’s arms, dead to the world.

“Is he- is he alright?” Obi-wan asked, clinging to his Padawan as much as Anakin was holding onto him.

Qui-Gon observed the steady rise and fall of Anakin’s chest, then sighed only tiredly. He felt much older than the years he had counted, the millennia within Anakin’s heart not fading away as quickly as he’d like them to.

“He will be,” Qui-Gon promised.

He didn’t know if he was lying, but he knew he was not speaking the truth either.

#star wars #Anakin Skywalker #qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #padmé amidala #fanfic

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