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gorillaspictures · 1 year

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Film form - critical reflection

Overall, I am happy with how our film turned out. When showing it at the crit, some people watching were genuinely scared which means we at least succeeded on that front. I was also surprised at the amount of things that the lecturers liked about the film, and that they thought our film had some very strong moments.

In terms of directing, I received some useful feedback, particularly regarding the ending scene, in which the creature approaches Eric from behind without him knowing. In the scene, Eric can’t sense the creature despite the fact that it is talking to him. However, in the previous scene, it had been established that Eric can interact with the creature and hear its voice. Alternatively, if we’re supposed to believe that Eric CAN hear the creature, but is simply paralysed by fear, this was not reflected in Frederik’s performance. This is something I did not consider when directing my actors. So, I’d say the most important thing I took away directing-wise was to think about the characters’ point of view in the scene - what they can and can’t interact with - and make sure it remains consistent throughout the film.

Another thing I should have considered more was how to better communicate the tone of the film. Our film’s intended tone was a dramatic horror with a few slightly comedic elements. The comedy wouldn’t be laugh-out-loud, but more dry and uncomfortable, with the humour lying in the absurdity and misery Eric has to experience. Paul praised the timing of the mother coughing, and the long pause where you think she might be dead. I was pleased with this, as it was an intentional choice on my part. However, Leo wasn’t quite sure if certain moments later on were funny on purpose or not. This is something that could have been made clearer by tightening up the edit, or keeping the tone in mind while giving directions to Frederik.

In terms of editing, the glitching effects were praised, as was the text on screen. The main piece of feedback related to the text was that there should have been more context. In the film, Eric’s friend Tommy sends him a message out of nowhere, and Eric clicks on it without questioning it. If we had included an extra line of dialogue or even directed Frederik differently, we could have hinted towards more of a relationship between Tommy and Eric. For example, Eric points out that Tommy always sends him weird things, or even smiles/laughs upon seeing the message. That way, the audience would be less confused and Eric would have a more solid motivation for setting the conflict of the film in motion.

As I was helping with sound, it was important to take in the feedback on the sound design.

One thing we should have added was a limiter on the mix. There is a part in the film in which the music is (intentionally) really loud compared to the rest of the sound - however, the difference in volume was way greater on the big speakers than it was when we were sound designing. Had we added a limiter, the difference wouldn’t have been as much of an issue, and poor Leo wouldn’t have had to turn the sound down halfway through the film.

Another issue with sound was the dialogue towards the very end. While again, it wasn’t quite noticeable while sound designing. This was down to mic placement, as, due to the shot being very wide, the boom microphone was quite far away from the subject. Zoe suggested to raise the levels of the dialogue, and remove. If all else fails, we could use a wild track and ADR where necessary. In future, we should use two microphone placements - a lav and a boom - instead of just the boom.

One small thing was the audio of the speaker. Looking back, it is quite clear that we recorded it separate from everything else. Zoe suggested we improve the speaker audio by recording it in the same space as the dialogue. As in, we use the same recording of the voice actress, but we play it in the bedroom, and record it playing using the boom mic.

Overall, despite the issues identified while on set and at the crit, I am very proud of our film. I thought we worked together very well as a team, were always there for each other, and I would love to work with my crew again. While the feedback given at the crit was very helpful, I thought the praise we got outshone our weaknesses, and that we achieved what we were going for.

#film form

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brattyfics · 3 years

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Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat.

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio x black!reader

606 notes · View notes

originaldanganronpascenarios · 3 years

Note

Drv3 boys request. Best friend-crush reader constantly gets confessed to and hit on bcuz of their beaty and very admirable personality, but alway declines(cuz they like the boys). The boys want to ask out reader but is scared they’ll reject them like the others and it would ruin their friendship. How would they react when reader suddenly makes a big romantic gesture and ask them out instead?

I didn't expect the last part of this ask Aaaa that's amazing.

V3 boys with a crush that constantly gets confessed to... That confesses to them!

Ryoma Hoshi

Do you really think that he even thought of confessing to you? All those people he witnessed confessing to you made you extremely uncomfortable.

So there's no way that he's going to say it and be another person on this list. He's perfectly fine being your close friend. Actually it's more than enough.

It's a bit funny really. He doubts any possible feelings you may or may not have for him while you reject everyone just to be with him.

But it's not like he thought it'd be good for you to like him. Heck he thought that you being friends was a bit dangerous for you.

So even if you shared mutual feelings it doesn't really mean that he would accept it. There was a slight possibility that he'd reject you.

You were aware of this possibility, but you still wanted to try. You had to!

You had the flowers, the time and the place. Ryoma was a little early but it's not like you were possibly bothered by it.

He was a bit surprised to see you holding flowers but there was no way it could-

You turn towards him and give him the flowers. But the most shocking part was you asking him to date you.

He wanted to think that you're joking but he knew you weren't. His silence made you anxious.

"So... You rejected everyone because you liked me? Geez you have an odd taste kiddo" he joked still not believing it was happening "I might not deserve it but- I feel the same about you"

Gonta Gokuhara

It was a bit weird when people had the guts to confess to you while you were hanging out with him.

The fact that someone wanted to tell you something while you spend time with him didn't bother him... But the fact that it made you uncomfortable did.

So he wanted to help you. Picking less crowded places, trying to make you appear busy. He asked if you agreed for him doing so. The second you change your mind he'll stop.

But you had just the thing that would stop at least the ones that are decent and know when to back off.

And it's of course confessing to Gonta and if he likes you back your relationship will be official right away.

You didn't do it to use him obviously- you liked him for a long time and what I just said was a joke.

You wanted this to be special since he was special. You thought about your favorite places and found a perfect option.

There was a lake where you often could see lots of dragonflies. And although it's not his favorite kind of a bug this lake is one of the first special places he took you to. So it had that sentimental points.

When he showed up you decided to first have a warm conversation before you told him how you feel.

The grass was soft but not as soft as he felt when you told him this. He was overjoyed and did speak ever so slightly louder.

"Gonta would love to be with Y/N! Gonta swears to make Y/N happy everyday!"

K1B0

It took him a while to figure out his feelings... When he did things got a bit awkward for him.

He was scared to change things between you two... But he wanted things to change. He wanted to be with you, to be able to hold your hand, be the reason why you're smiling and to make you feel how he feels around you.

He didn't wanted to be like all those people saying sweet nothings out of nowhere, disturbing you and even being rude to you when you reject them.

But of course those things are something he wouldn't dare to do... He just didn't wanted you to think that he's like those people.

There was no other choice, he had to grin and bear it. With time you had realized and connected the dots that he liked you too and you couldn't be more happy.

Even though it was just a silly assumption the very thought of being with Kiibo just made your day.

Now it was time to make that thought into reality! And you had a silly plan that probably would work.

You were listening to music together- but between the songs there was one audio file of your confession.

While you cringed at the sound of your recorded voice he was shocked.

He didn't really believe what was happening so he asked if you recorded it. When you admitted to it he didn't really know how to react.

"I- uhm- I like you to. Sorry I just don't know what to say, I'm so happy!"

Kaito Momota

He was over the moon about his feelings for you actually, but he had no problem keeping it to himself.

Knowing how many people made you uncomfortable with their confessions he thought it'd be best if he waited it out and most importantly respect and ask what your feelings are in the first place.

He didn't really think when he asked if you liked anyone. But as he found out that yes, there was someone he was ready to support you.

Although he'd be lying if he said he wasn't jealous... Or angry about the fact that you won't tell him who you like.

He'd try to guess but he couldn't. At that point he thought that he did guess at one point and you just said no anyways.

You knew that with him you had to be straightforward. Of course he probably would be able to tell your intentions but it'd be ideal to let him know without having to worry if he thinks it's platonic.

So you were ready for anything even to bluntly correct him.

When you were hanging out he noticed that you were acting a bit differently and he thought it was becouse he was forcing you to tell him who do you like so you're trying to be cautious around him.

So he apologized for that and ended up giving a few hints that he might like you back.

It gave you some confidence boost so you had a perfect opportunity to strike, and that's exactly what you did.

"What!? It was me all that time!?... You could've just said so. I was worried that I'll never get to tell you how I feel"

Shuichi Saihara

He tried to pay no attention to all those people who declare their love to you. Some were flashy with their confession while some just told you about their feelings.

He was a bit jealous over all those admirers... Not because you had so many. It was because he wished to be as brave as them and tell you how he feels.

But it's not like he could easily admit to it himself. He just didn't know what to say and with each admirer he became more and more scared.

One day he just asked- okay more just blurted out the question if you liked someone.

You weren't lying when you said yes, but you needed some time before you tell him you-know-what.

So his any interest to confess to you was out of the window. But he prepared himself to support you and your future partner.

His question prompted you to step up and finally confess. Since he's definitely going to start guessing.

That was what you assumed, Shuichi didn't actually want to know who you fell for. He only "knew" that it wasn't him.

You decided to confess in a bit risky way. What I mean is: you left a confession letter inside a novel you let him borrow. It could fall out at any time!

You were worried this might happen but soon enough you got a message from him.

He would call you and thought a lot about doing so but he knew he'd be at loss of words so he just decided to text you instead.

"Do you really like me?" this was a sign that he did in fact get your letter.

After that you texted for a while but as to his feelings for you, he decided that he'll try to tell you in person.

Rantaro Amami

He never paid much attention to his feelings. So even when he realized that he's in love he knew he shouldn't say anything.

Looking how many people you rejected he thought you weren't interested in anyone at all.

Of course there were some people you considered strangers. But there were few that were close to you too.

And hey being friends with you was super fun. So why should he make things awkward by letting know how he feels?

You can't have everything in the world and for Rantaro just your smile was enough.

While he set his feelings aside you were preparing yourself to confess.

You decided to strike at a perfect time. The beautiful sight before you (other than Rantaro obviously) the warm atmosphere...

You said it. Without regrets, you couldn't stop yourself. He was a bit surprised but he didn't let you wait long for his answer.

"Hah... I don't really know what to say at a time like this... Can I kiss you instead and let it be my answer?"

Kokichi Ouma

He saw you reject people so often he swears he knows the outcome just by the look on your face. Even when you politely decline and show no signs that you'll say no he still can tell.

If someone really messes it up he's gonna joke about this later with you. He just wanted to make you laugh so you won't have to worry about it much.

You might not like the idea so much but it happened when someone crossed the line and made you feel uncomfortable so you didn't feel that bad...

And it DEFINITELY doesn't make him anxious about confessing... Impossible- he would never.

Of course he's not like those idiots who don't even know you. And in the end he can turn it into a joke if he messes it up.

But the memory would probably haunt him and not let him sleep at night, so he rathers not risking it.

So you had to make the move. It was a bit hard but you knew how to get to him. You had to wait for your "making fun of people who confessed to you" session to do that.

That's when you mentioned that you were interested in someone and now it was the best time to make things obvious.

He was ready to tease the living shit out of you and hoped you'd share the news. But you made him guess.

It was interesting to hear the names he'd assume before himself. So you spoiled the fun.

"Aww Y/N I almost got it! That's not fair" he crossed his arms "But since you're really dying to be with me I suppose I can entertain you from now on in a bit different way"

Korekiyo Shinguji

He's observant and he's pretty sure somehow he saw all of the confessions so far. Some were creative while some incredibly creepy.

He did make a joke once about you being so popular just to see your reaction. It was interesting that you rejected everyone even those he assumed you were close with.

A little tease like this can show him how you view those interactions. He wanted to know if you find it amusing or heartbreaking.

Whatever your answer was he acknowledged it and knew that from now on it'd be better to keep his feelings to himself.

He was entertained enough just being with you as you were so he didn't really care that he has to ignore his heart's call.

You were beautiful, the special kind of beauty within you was something he could witness every day. What more he could ask for?

Only if he knew what you were up to... It'd ruin the surprise!

You studied the language of flowers just so when you give him the special bouquet you'd tell him meaning of each flower.

He was of course already aware of those but since you were telling them about it he knew that it was supposed to mirror your feelings.

"To believe that I was blind to your feelings all this time... Let me make this up to you"

~Mod Angie

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the-littlest-goblin · 3 years

Note

ooooooooh for fic prompts, could i request: essek interacting with Frumpkin, specifically playing with him (so as to impress Caleb and earn his favor a bit), but our favorite hot boi most likely did not have pets growing up and is at a bit of a loss with what to do. (bonus: Caleb sees this and thinks it's incredibly endearing)

I think you got everything you wanted. ft. my personal 'here’s how Frumpkin can still win’ headcanon.

----

This was not how familiars were supposed to work.

Essek may not have summoned one before (he’d never really understood the use of an assistant with no opposable thumbs), but he had read enough about the spell to know that this was not how familiars were supposed to behave.

Maybe that was because Frumpkin didn’t technically count as a familiar anymore.

No one knew exactly what had happened, or why. Essek and Caleb had exchanged a number of theories on the matter, but so far the best explanation still went to Beau’s conclusion: “weird fey shit.”

After Aeor and the Somnovem, when they had all finally gotten a chance to breathe again, Caleb had done some sort of ritual to more permanently banish his familiar. Essek hadn’t gotten the full context at the time, but it had something to do with symbolic closure and moving on. The cat was already gone from the Material Plane at that point, but Caleb had wanted to remove the temptation to summon him again, and so devised a sort of reversal of the Find Familiar spell.

However, upon performing the anti-summoning ritual, the cat had appeared in the ritual circle as if Caleb had cast the spell as usual. Only instead of going to his master’s side, Frumpkin had sauntered away from Caleb with a swish of his tail and gone to sit directly at Essek’s feet.

“Hmm,” Caleb had muttered, the hint of a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. “It looks like he has made a choice.”

Ever since, Caleb had been unable to banish Frumpkin, or communicate with him, or give him orders. He had seemingly lost his magical connection to, and mastery over, the cat—Frumpkin was no longer his familiar, as had been the intention. It was just that Frumpkin apparently liked the Material Plane better than the Feywild, and so refused to leave. And since Caleb had let him go, he chose a new wizard to keep him company. For the next several days they had spent recuperating and planning their next moves, Frumpkin stuck with Essek, never straying from his side for long.

But, crucially, he did not become Essek’s familiar, a lesson they had learned quickly enough. Essek didn’t even have Find Familiar in his spellbook. He couldn’t banish Frumpkin, he couldn’t communicate telepathically with him, and he certainly couldn’t give him orders.

So, Essek just had a pet cat now, one which happened to be fey in nature. Stranger things had happened—much, much stranger—so for Essek’s part, it had seemed easiest to just accept this development in stride. At times, he was even grateful for the cat’s presence.

But right now, he was very much not. At least familiars were obedient.

Essek winced against the sound of shattering glass—a sound which was becoming somewhat routine since taking up residence in these new, temporary lodgings with Frumpkin as his roommate.

Essek closed his eyes and took one deep breath before looking up from his notes to survey the damage. His gaze met Frumpkin’s round, amber eyes across the room, looking impossibly innocent where he sat primly on one of the tables which Essek had set up to house his research. His tail swished back and forth where it hung over the edge, acting like a flashing signal to point Essek’s attention down towards the starburst of broken glass glittering directly beneath him.

Mercifully, the beaker which Frumpkin had marked for termination had been holding a harmless and easily replaceable solvent, rather than any of the more valuable or dangerous liquids Essek had lying around in his provisional lab. His fingers curled protectively around the precious vial of liquid dunamis sitting next to him.

“Why?” He let the single syllable of the word stretch out into a long, bone-deep groan lasting several seconds. The question was aimed both at Frumpkin and at himself, and covered a variety of curiosities he had about the situation. Why did Frumpkin feel such a persistent desire to destroy Essek’s belongings? Why had he chosen to adhere himself to Essek in the first place, when he seemed to hold a deep disdain for everything Essek owned or did? Why was Essek incapable of learning the very simple lesson of locking the door to this makeshift lab? Why had he promised Caleb that he would take care of Frumpkin while the Mighty Nein dealt with the Assembly, instead of throwing the mangy beast out onto the streets of Port Dumali as soon as they had arrived at the safe house?

None of these were questions to which Essek was about to get any answers, so he tried another one.

“What do you want from me?”

Frumpkin blinked.

“You are still a fey being. You don’t need food or water, and as far as I understand, providing those two things are the pillars of caring for a pet. So, what else could you possibly need that requires my attention?”

Frumpkin flicked his ears.

Caleb had given Essek a brief overview of what to expect in terms of cat-care, but either he had chosen to leave out a lot of unsavory details, or decoupling from their arcane connection had put Frumpkin through a drastic personality change, because Essek had received no instructions about how to handle the kind of stalemate in which he currently found himself.

“You have my sincerest apologies, but unlike your previous master, I cannot read your thoughts, and your current methods of communication are lacking in clarity.”

Frumpkin’s tail began swishing faster. He broke eye contact with Essek to gaze intently at the row of jars lining the next table over. These were full of various concoctions, including some potentially dangerous acids, the results of Essek’s increasing boredom as he stayed hunkered down in his safe house day after day. He only ever went out for the duration of a Disguise Self to buy food or other necessary supplies; he was too noticeable to amble around the city for leisure, on the slim but ever-present risk that word of a strange drow in Port Dumali would reach the ears of Ikithon or his servants. Essek was under strict instructions to stay as hidden as possible until he got the all-clear from the Mighty Nein. With only the materials to continue his most basic experiments with dunamis, he was growing bored out of his mind.

Essek heaved another deep sigh before reluctantly abandoning his notes and gliding over to where Frumpkin had stationed himself. With a short wave of his hands, the spill vanished and the broken shards of glass floated gently into the trash bin. Then, Essek unceremoniously lifted the cat into his arms before he had the chance to wreak any more havoc, and deposited him outside the door.

Distraction removed, Essek made to turn around and return to his research, this time intending to lock the door to prevent further feline interruptions. But before he could do so, he made the mistake of looking into Frumpkin’s eyes again. The cat’s pupils gleamed, impossibly wide and round, and his tail was still swishing back and forth in an incomprehensible pattern, like some sort of code. A mixture of affection and guilt welled up in Essek, rooting to the spot.

Godsdammit, but he had promised Caleb he was going to take care of his cat, and that meant not ignoring Frumpkin when he was clearly trying to tell him something. Because even if Caleb no longer wanted a familiar to travel around with him, he still loved this damned cat, and also Essek was trying to be less callous and heartless in general.

He thought back to Caleb’s instructions with a fair bit of desperation, searching for some hint of what would make Frumpkin happy. All he came up with was a faint recollection, something about enjoying being scratched behind the ears.

“Is that all you want? Is that what you interrupted me for?” Fighting not to roll his eyes, Essek reached down for a pet.

As soon as he got close enough, Frumpkin lunged.

“Gah!” Essek snatched his hand back, nursing the sting of pain from Frumpkin’s bite. There was no blood; the little demons’s fangs hadn’t managed to break the skin. It could barely count as an injury, but the shock of betrayal hurt more than the scratch.

“What in the Nine Hells was that for?” Essek glared at Frumpkin, then noticed just in time that the cat was poised to strike again. This time, he only had to turn slightly to keep his hands out of harm's way, but Frumpkin wasn’t aiming for the exposed skin. There was a loose thread dangling from the hem of Essek’s sleeve, apparently caught by the previous attack. Frumpkin was intent on it. He flung himself at the thread, grabbing at it with his clumsy paws. It slipped through his grip, and he lunged again without hesitation.

Experimentally, Essek lifted his arm so the thread dangled higher off the ground. Frumpkin took the challenge to heart, leaping to grab it in his teeth before it slipped out of his grasp again, and he landed on the floor in defeat. Essek moved his arm over to one side, and Frumpkin followed with enthusiasm, this time managing to get the thread around one claw. The split second of resistance was enough to tear it from Essek’s sleeve. Frumpkin rolled over onto his back, victorious, batting his prize around in euphoric glee.

A grin spread across Essek’s face as he watched this display of simple delight.

“I suppose you were just bored, too. Was that it?”

Frumpkin responded by biting the string with a vengeance.

An idea began forming in the corner of his mind as he watched Frumpkin playing. Absentmindedly, Essek twisted his fingers and summoned a trace thread of dunamis into his hand, shaping and stretching it into a longer and longer cord of greyish, glowing energy, which he then dangled tantalizingly over Frumpkin’s head. The boring, non-magical string was immediately forgotten and discarded as Frumpkin caught sight of the dunamis toy. His whole body wiggling in excitement, he lunged at the cord again and again, pulling a genuine laugh out of Essek as he bobbed and weaved the magic around, dancing it out of Frumpkin’s grasp. He needed a break from his lab anyway, and this was shockingly entertaining.

---

“Well? How are they?” Just a hint of nerves colored Caleb’s voice, as it did every time they checked in on Essek. The fear that this time, the scry would reveal him not safe and sound on the Coast, far from the Trent’s reach, but somewhere cold and dark and threatening.

The faint glow faded from Jester’s eyes as the spell ended. Looking up at Caleb with a smile, she said, “You’re not going to believe this Caleb, it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

Caleb grinned back at her.

#critrole #critical role #my writing #fic prompts #the pedant in me needs to point out that Essek would definitely be wearing his anti-scrying necklace but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#Anonymous

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makeste · 3 years

Text

save no matter what.

so this is going to ultimately be a post about Deku. however, if you’ll be so kind as to indulge me, I would like to start things off by making a point about Bakugou. specifically, I’d like to point out that back in the day before this kid got Character Development no Jutsu’d, people weren’t always so inclined to view his attitude towards winning in the best light. which is a nice way of saying that he came off as unhealthily obsessed, not to mention more than a little unhinged.

sorry for the image spam btw, I just think they’re funny. he’s so demented lmao. KILL DIE CRUSH.

anyway so we’re gonna do the rest of this below a cut before it gets long. but I promise it really is a Deku post lol. don’t let the pre-readmore stuff fool you. I PROMISE THERE IS A POINT, AND WE WILL GET TO IT.

anyway! so yeah, we really didn’t have the best impression of Bakugou’s whole winning fixation at the beginning there. and I mean, it’s not like we had the best impression of Bakugou himself at the start of things either. we were already primed from the very first chapter to see this kid as an adversary to Izuku. the story goes out of its way to paint him in pretty much the worst light possible. which is why what happens next is so interesting.

because one might see all this and think, “holy heck, this kid is off the shits, somebody needs to set him straight pronto and get it into his head that winning isn’t everything.” because that’s almost the natural conclusion to draw. “look at this kid, he doesn’t care about helping other people at all, all he cares about is winning, someone needs to come along and show him that he’s got it backwards.”

except that’s not what happens, is it? because this is where, much to my delight, Horikoshi came along and started subverting expectations. because not only is Katsuki not rebuked for being so obsessed with winning -- it’s pretty much the exact opposite.

the one and only time Deku ever straight up hands Katsuki’s ass to him is when he says he doesn’t want to win. Deku is IMMEDIATELY all, “THE FUCK KIND OF BULLSHIT DID I JUST HEAR OUT OF YOUR TRASH MOUTH,” and that’s when he sets him straight.

the important people in Katsuki’s life never tell him, “hey you need to cool it with the whole winning thing.” All Might and Aizawa never scold him for it, or tell him that he shouldn’t try with everything he has to win, or that wanting to win is a bad thing. on the contrary, they both commend him for it. and ultimately, he’s told by All Might that this desire is actually one of the two fundamental qualities that every great hero needs.

he completely turns the whole thing on its head. not only is it not a bad thing, it’s actually crucial. essential. because what the desire to win really is, at its core, is tenacity. it’s the fiercest kind of determination. it’s not something he should be ashamed of; it’s something that sets him apart, something that makes him worthy. he is someone who refuses to back down no matter what. refuses to give up, no matter what. and this quality, which is initially misunderstood by some to the point where even the villains mistakenly take him for one of their own in the making, is eventually validated to the fullest degree by the person that Katsuki looks up to the most. his desire to win goes from being this awkward “son wtf are you doing” thing to being one of the core philosophies of the series. and ever since then, we pretty much don’t question it.

so why do I bring this up now? well, the answer to that can basically be summed up in one word.

“parallels.”

so here’s the thing. there’s been a lot of talk lately about Deku’s ridiculous, reckless, and absurdly self-destructive desire to save others while having little to no regard for himself. currently he’s lying in a hospital bed, having broken approximately 218 out of the 206 bones in his little hero body (yes, somewhere along the way he found an additional dozen bones to break). it is worrying. it is Concerning. and it’s raised a lot of questions, such as “???” and “wtf is this idiot doing.”

and a lot of people have been pretty critical of him! this is, of course, an ongoing thing with this child, and people have been giving him grief over it going as far back as chapter 6.

while others have been bothered by it going even further back than that.

and I’ve seen these sentiments being echoed pretty frequently in the fandom as well. and there are basically two talking points that I want to address here. the first is the idea that Deku’s aggressive brand of selflessness stems from an inherent lack of self-worth. in other words, because he prioritizes other people’s safety and well-being above his own, and is willing to go to such drastic lengths to save them, there’s this feeling that he doesn’t value himself enough, that he must not care about himself.

but I don’t think that’s quite it. let’s go back to those parallels first, though. let’s take another look at Kacchan.

what I mainly want to call attention to is the intensity here. again, it’s something that at first strikes most readers as being absurdly over the top. the truth is, I think a lot of people simply can’t relate to it. Katsuki cares about winning with a ferocity and a fervor that most people, for better or worse, simply don’t have. I certainly don’t, lol.

but he does. to him it’s not a shallow, superficial thing at all. it’s important to him, perhaps the most important thing. I think we often talk about it in terms of it being a desire, but imo a more accurate way to define it is not as a want, but as a need. in other words, it’s the opposite of the question “what is it this character wants” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live without”)? instead, it’s a question of “what is it they don’t want” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live with”)?

and in Katsuki’s case, the thing he can’t live with is feeling like he hasn’t tried his absolute best. he needs to give his all in everything he does. he wants to win, but winning just on its own is not enough.

it has to be earned. he has to prove to himself and to everyone else that he deserves it. anything less than that is unacceptable. anything less than that, and he can’t be at ease. he can’t be settled. he can’t rest. and so he puts everything he has into winning, even if it means going to extremes. because it’s that important to him.

it’s something that’s at times alarming and even disturbing for others to witness. but nonetheless, it’s a part of who he is, and at the end of the day his teachers accept that, and the story acknowledges that it’s his greatest strength.

so now, to finally bring this back around to Deku, this is what I keep seeing in his character as well. only in his case, the thing he can’t live with is knowing that he didn’t do everything he possibly could to save someone. or to put it another way, Deku, at his core, is someone who cannot rest until he knows that everyone is safe. simple as that. it’s not just a desire to protect people; it’s a need. he needs to know that everyone is safe and protected. otherwise he can’t be at ease. it’s no different from how normal, everyday people aren’t able to feel at ease unless they know that they are safe and that their loved ones are safe. it’s just that in Deku’s case, this same fundamental need extends to everyone, not just himself and his friends and family. everyone. he can’t live with himself knowing that someone was in trouble, and he had the ability to do something to help, but didn’t. and so, if you literally can’t live with not doing something, you basically have no choice but to do it.

and this is what in my opinion defines Deku’s character. Kacchan, in trying to understand it, noted that Deku doesn’t seem to take himself into account. but I think OFA Prime summed it up a little more accurately. “he rages for the sake of others. for them, he does his best until he can do no more. this young man is possessed by a drive to save others that eclipses all common understanding.”

so yeah. it’s not that he doesn’t care about himself at all, it’s that he cares about others even more. he has that same intensity and ferocity towards saving people that Katsuki has towards winning. and just as it was difficult at first for fans to understand Katsuki’s feelings, it’s hard to fathom the sheer depth of that “save everyone” feeling that compels Deku to break his own body in that pursuit. it’s scary, not to mention extremely destructive and dangerous. and so really, it was almost inevitable that there would be some backlash.

but just like Katsuki’s desire to win was ultimately validated in the end, I think Deku’s desire to save others will be as well. in fact it already is being validated, for starters by the other denizens of OFA, led by Lil Bro as mentioned above. let’s go back for a moment to that same scene.

here we get a huge hint that “Deku gets taken down a notch and chewed out and scolded for his recklessness” is not, in fact, the direction that the story is going in. because in general, when the main villain starts mocking the hero and saying that they’ve done something wrong, that’s a very good sign that said hero is actually on the exact right track. like, no offense, but as far as character critiques go, AFO is probably the least qualified person in the entire manga to start offering those up lol. so yeah. if AFO is denouncing Deku for something, and OFA Prime is praising him for that exact same thing, I think it’s safe to say that means he is in fact doing something very, very right.

“okay but makeste, he nearly got himself killed and broke all of his arms AND legs and is now lying in a fucking coma,” you say, gesturing emphatically to the last page of chapter 298. “so I mean, that’s all well and good that Wonder Boy has the best of intentions and all that, but at the end of the day he’s only one kid. he literally can’t save everyone, and if he pulls one or two more stunts like this, he’s going to get himself killed.”

and okay, but this here is the other talking point that I wanted to address. because it’s true, Deku does need to learn a specific lesson here. but that lesson is NOT that he can’t save everyone. this is a superhero story, guys -- “you can’t save everyone” is never going to be the underlying message, ever. it’s the OPPOSITE of the message. Deku is the hero because he tries to save everyone. because he doesn’t give up on saving people no matter what. that is literally the core of the story. it has been since the very first chapter.

so then what is it that Deku actually needs to learn here? well, once again, it all comes back to those parallels.

btw, I really just love how he’s carrying Katsuki there lol. he’s just so done with him.

but anyway. so, the final exam arc. Katsuki initially wants to win at all costs -- but there’s a hitch. because even though he wants to win, he refuses to do so while working with Deku. enter Deku’s left hook, and one impromptu Rival Encouragement Speech later, our boy has thankfully come to his senses.

but here’s the point -- the lesson here wasn’t “you can’t always win.” rather, the lesson that Katsuki needed to learn was that you can’t always win alone.

yeah. so now you can see what I’m getting at here.

“...on your own.”

that’s the key. this is the one and only thing that Deku actually needs to get into his head. wanting to save everyone is fine! his will to save others has never been a weakness -- it’s been the most admirable thing about him from day one. it’s what makes him strong. it’s why All Might chose him. it’s why OFA has chosen him. it’s what sets him apart, and I firmly believe it’s what will ultimately help him save the day and defeat AFO as well. because what other character would look at Shigaraki Tomura, the person who just impaled his friend and destroyed an entire city, and instinctively reach out a hand to try and save him? and if you don’t think that’s going to wind up being key to the final battle, you and I have very different ideas about this series’ endgame.

Deku’s determination to save everyone isn’t arrogance or futility. it is and always has been his greatest strength. but what he’s missing now, what he needs to learn, is simply to trust. y’all might have seen that theory about the Fourth’s quirk, and why All Might was so hesitant to tell Deku about it. basically, the theory (which is based on an attempted translation of the crossed-out parts of All Might’s OFA notebook) goes that the Spidey Sense was so overwhelming that the Fourth -- whose cause of death was one of the things crossed out -- eventually couldn’t bear it, and went to live alone in the middle of the woods somewhere. and possibly wound up killing himself?? all of which is just speculation right now of course. but it makes sense. and it would certainly explain why All Might, being all too aware of Deku’s self-destructive tendencies, would keep that from him.

but if this is the case, that means it’s clear that the Fourth’s solution didn’t work. “give up and accept that you can’t save everyone” clearly is NOT the answer to be had here.

the answer is trust. trust that his fellow heroes have his back. trust that they’ll be able to help him reach the people he’s not able to reach on his own. trust that they can work together to save everyone. that he doesn’t have to rest the entire world on his shoulders alone.

it’s the one lesson that All Might, his predecessor and his teacher, never learned himself until it was too late. but of course, All Might never had a prickly and determined rival who was ready to step in and deal out some tough love if need be. a rival who, perhaps, just might soon get a chance to repay an old favor.

“I don’t wanna hear you say you can’t save someone.”

I’m just saying. just as Deku has been watching Katsuki all this time, and admiring his determination to win, and emulating it himself, so has Katsuki recently begun to emulate Deku’s determination to save others. we’ve seen it not just in his recent act of self-sacrifice, but even in little things like his habits and tricks of speech. just like Katsuki is Deku’s image of victory, Deku is becoming Katsuki’s image of saving others.

and so I’ll bet you anything that if Deku ever starts to doubt himself, or starts feeling like his dream and desires are futile, Kacchan will be there to set him straight with a good old fashioned Rival Encouragement Speech of his own. possibly with his own left hook to match, though his left shoulder is currently out of sorts atm so he might need to modify that approach a little bit. but the point is, he’ll be there. and he will not allow Deku to give up on himself. he will be there to remind him that he doesn’t have to face this alone.

so yeah! finally managed to wrap up my giant Deku meta which I’ve been working on for ages and rewritten like fifteen times lmao. just in time for this to be relevant for all of a day, probably, depending on what happens once chapter 279 drops lol. but yeah. tl;dr, local boy tries to do too much, but his heart is in the right place, and hopefully all he really needs is a good pep talk from his tsundere bff to set him to rights again. r.i.p. to the Fourth, but he’s different.

#bnha 298 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bnha meta #deku meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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alreadyblondenow · 3 years

Photo

A demon or an angel?

▸ Taeyong x female!reader ▸ 1,836k words ▸ SMUT, SMUT, FLUFF ▸ Pure fiction, Slight exhibitionism, BDSM themes (I tried, it’s my first time), everything is done with consent + safe word, blindfold, ICE PLAY, tying of both arms and legs, smacking, unprotected sex, overstimulating, teasing, swearing, mentions of alcohol, Taeyong drinking your tequila shot hehe. ▸ For Neo Smut Collective’s drabble festival, Wet & Wild

Everything was not planned.

You just wanted to have a good time after a long day at work and go home drunk then plan on hating yourself the next day because you had too much alcohol. But no. Everything you planned on doing was completely forgotten when you met a demon that looked like an angel by the bar who shamelessly drank your tequila shot.

“Excuse me,” you said to him with a flirty smile, not even annoyed at what he did.

“You go here often?” he came closer to you and put his elbow on the bar counter and placed his hand on your lower back to keep you away from strangers who move recklessly.

“Just for tonight” you smiled. Giving him a hint that you’re flirting back.

“I tell you this,” he clears his throat and gave you a small smile, “try not to get drunk tonight so you won’t get a bitch headache tomorrow and spend your day with me, headache-free” he winked after he lay down his offer.

“I don’t even know your name stranger,” you giggled and fixed his tie, only to pull him closer to you and the smell of expensive perfume explains it all. This gentleman right here is not just anyone.

“Oh you’ll know my name, in fact, you will get to moan my name if you just do what you’re told” his breath tickles your neck and immediately made your legs weak. Shamelessly, he left kisses on your neck and collar bones to make you say ‘yes’ and to show you what lies ahead if you agree.

“I’ll say yes if you give me a ride home”

“Then it’s settled. Right this way, please”

And just before he takes you home, the heat of the moment did not stop you two from making out at the back of his car while his driver pretends like he’s not hearing anything. You invited him to your house and fuck there, but he declined you like the gentleman that he is and told you that he had been drinking way before you arrived at the bar, “I can’t fuck you good if I’m tipsy but don’t worry-“ he pulled down the collar of your blouse, just enough to expose chest and cleavage to him so he can kiss you there and leave a mark. “you will enjoy everything that I will do to you tomorrow”

On the next day, he picked you up with a different car but this time he’s the one driving. He greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a proper hug, nothing too lustful just a decent greeting to start your day right. And while he was driving, he holds your hand and kisses it whenever he can. Making you smile and your heart flutter so you know his intentions.

“Are you going to take me to a fancy hotel? Fuck me in your private jet? Yacht?”

What you just said made him laugh. Oh his smile makes him even more handsome, you thought. “No and no. Though, I can. But I prefer bringing you to my house, sounds good? Unless you prefer my private jet or bask under this afternoon sun, I can make it happen”

His way of flexing his riches was amusing that you two just laughed and decided that his house is the best destination. Though he promised to fly you next time and have a short vacation with him if today goes well.

When you arrived at his house, you weren’t surprised to see a huge house because you quite expected it already. It was quiet and spacious but you didn’t have enough time to snoop around for he is quick to drag you towards his room and show how hungry he is for you.

You just met last night but obviously, he misses you already and you can tell it by the way he kisses you and touch you.

“What’s the name I’m going to moan today?” you reminded him of what he owes you.

“Taeyong,” he started to undress you, “baby, honey, babe, whatever you want,” he smacks your ass deliciously and both landed on his king-sized bed. Both hands are busy undressing each other and caressing each other’s bodies. And when you’re left with only your matching lacy underwear, especially for him, he stopped you from unhooking your bra and made you lie comfortably in bed as he pulls away from your lips.

He reached on his bedside table and showed you a black Louis Vuitton bandeau, “Do you trust me?” you nod your head ‘yes’, “What if I tie you? Do I still have your consent?” he waited for your answer while he scans your body and feeds his eyes, of course, you said ‘yes’. “Your safe word is rose” he says and kissed your temple before he covers your eyes and takes your breath away by pushing you on the mattress without a warning, kissing your body with want as he removes your bra and puts both your arms above you to tie them securely. By this time you feel very excited and you just can’t wait for him to make his next move.

But be careful what you wish for. Because you didn’t expect him to spread your legs wide and tie them both, right after he removes your lacy panties. Now you’re left with nothing.

For a moment, he stepped out of the bed to fully undress and feel him come back when the mattress dipped on your side. Still, he isn’t making a move but you hear sounds of water and ice from where the bedside table is located and-

“Mmm. Fuck! That’s cold, ahhh” you moaned deliciously and tried to fold your legs but you really couldn’t. You moved your body to ease the sensitivity but nothing is working, so you have no choice and accepted it like a good girl he expects you to be. Up and down, and oh so slowly, Taeyong moves the ice cube on your slit while lying comfortably on his side. Gently and carefully, building the momentum and giving you the full experience of what he’s doing to you.

“Good? Just nod if you can’t talk,” he teased you with his question but you nod and let out sounds of approval to further support your answer.

“Told you you’ll enjoy it,” he says and left a kiss on your lips, just long enough to make you catch his lips and ask for more when he pulls away intentionally. “Lift your chin,” he commands and went on top of you. You thought he will finally kiss you there but no, the gentleman has something in mind. He bit the ice cube and brush it on your neck, making you shiver and moan near his ear as he wet your chest with the ice in his mouth. And when the ice melted and became small, Taeyong ran his thumb on your lips and planted a kiss… only to transfer the ice from his mouth to your mouth but not letting go of the kiss until the ice is fully melted.

“I chose the right person,” he says and gently caresses your body before running another ice cube in between your boobs.

“Nipples please” you moan out but he put his pointer finger on your lips and made you suck it.

“But since you asked so nicely,” he let out a dark chuckle and ran his thumb on your nipples, gently and carefully pinching them with his cold fingers before he finally ran the ice around your nipples. Going in slow circles and watching you part your lips and let out soft moans beneath him. You can feel that he is very hard already because his cock is poking your thigh.

He bit your left nipple before he flips you effortlessly on your stomach and ran an ice cube on your back which tickled you and made you laugh… but he wanted you to moan, not laugh. So he smacked your ass and said, “moan” very sternly that he gave you goosebumps. But all you can do is let out soft sounds and cute giggles.

“you think I’m still playing?” he asks you while spreading kisses on your nape and on your shoulders, making you shiver with his low voice alone.

And just like that, he lines his cock on your cunt and slowly pushed in, caging your body with his strong arms. “There’s the moan that I’ve been asking for,” he says when you finally let out a string of delicious moans.

He thrust and thrust hard that you feel the impact on your body. Given that you’re on your stomach and your body is not arched, your hole is extra tight, which he loved so much and fucked you harder by the second.

There’s that devil in that at angelic form, you thought.

Taeyong smacked and smacked your ass as he fucks you until he cums, hurting you good and making your body sore.

After he cums, you were the one who needed to catch your breath not him and he noticed that. Maybe he was too rough on your first day together? So he decided to release you and untie you, kissing the red marks on your wrists and ankles to show you that he’s sorry.

“Are we done?” you asked weakly.

“Catch your breath baby, you’ll need it” he says and put you on top of him. Switching your positions effortlessly, “one of my many ways of saying ’sorry I was too rough’,” he giggles and soothes your back, “ride me, you will cum I promise” he added and kissed you on the lips but not for long. His lips traveled on your boobs as you line his cock on your cunt and slowly go down.

You moan and moan as you roll your hips and feel his tongue swirl around your nipples and his hands roam freely around your body. You feel very much appreciated by the way he lets you fuck him. “Can’t believe I’m not gonna last” you scoffed and bounced up and down his cock, putting both of you on edge and ready to reach your climax together.

“Keep doing that” he says. But you reached for his lips and kiss him as you dive together towards lust, watch him closely and see how he lost his mind when he reaches his climax.

“Ohh-“ you bit his shoulder when you finally reached your high. Closing both of your eyes tightly as you shiver on top of him and feel him shoot his cum inside you for the second time.

Unlike earlier that your body is cold because of the ice, now your both burning and sweating but shivering because of oversensitivity.

“Still good?” he asked and gently placed you down the mattress, kissing your sensitive body while pulling out and keeping you close.

“Thank you for choosing me,” you whispered and enjoyed his warmth, “how about that second date then?” you said before closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

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possiblyimbiassed · 3 years

Text

The lying liars who lie

Years and years late to the party, I’ve finally gotten my hands on all the DVDs of BBC Sherlock, and I thought it would be fun to watch the extra material carefully, one piece after another, and also listen to at least some of the show makers’ commentary of the episodes. But at this point, after S4 where DVDs seemed to be a constant lying device in general, I tend to look at them with a bit more suspicious eyes...

I still love the show of course, but now that I’ve taken this deep dive into all the special features, I find them a truly hard thing to try to wrap my head around. Even this long after the fact, I’m amazed by the amount of shameless, self-congratulatory BS in the DVDs, where the people involved can’t have enough of complimenting each other and their show, while they skillfully avoid to discuss anything actually meaningful about the plot line. ;) For example, Moffat claims in the S2 DVD that “In fact, you’ll never see a more obsessively authentic version of Sherlock Holmes than this one”. But if we follow their light-hearted commentary, which basically takes the show at face value, I’d call that not just hyperbole, but an outright lie. If you want to see the ‘authentic’ stories from ACD’s work in this show, you’ll definitely need to go much deeper into the subtext and meta levels - neither of which are mentioned on these DVDs of course. Here’s my own (rather subjective) ‘review’ of the whole thing, trying to pinpoint why I view most of the commentary of the show from its own makers as an advanced art of deception.

(My musings under the cut)

Series 1 - a wealth of extra material

First of all - as many of you probably knew already - the whole of the Unaired Pilot is added to the DVD of S1. In the extra material about the making of the series, they (Sue Vertue, Mofftiss and others) talk about what things they changed between the Pilot and ASiP, claiming that many changes were necessary improvements once they knew that they had a whole series and a lot more time at their disposal.

Which I can perfectly understand and agree with in general. But I think what’s missing in their discussions is more interesting than what’s actually there (”Mind the gap” ;) ). Things that I would expect from the show makers when they go to the trouble of comparing the pilot version with the aired product. There’s not a word, for example, about the fact that they added both Mycroft and Moriarty to the story in ASiP - two characters who later turn out to play major roles and appear in almost every other episode until the end of TFP. Or about the choice that one of the screenwriters would play Mycroft.

Neither do they discuss why they chose to relocate the place where Sherlock was challenged by the cabbie from 221B to Roland Kerr’s School of Further Education. Instead they focus on the details, like for example the new design of the interior of 221B.

Not to mention the fact that almost every scene in the Pilot is mirrored in ASiP (as pointed out long ago by @kateis-cakeis X), but at Angelo’s in the Pilot Sherlock follows the events with the cabbie while looking in an actual mirror. I even noticed that in the Pilot the cabbie is offering Sherlock dark-coloured bottles with the pills in them, while in ASiP those bottles are transparent, as if the cabbie is offering Sherlock to play Black or White in the chess game that he is simulating. What’s with all these mirrors, though? Not a word on the DVD... ;)

Now, even though these rather remarkable choices are neglected together with a great bunch of minor ones, I still think that the most interesting fact about all this is that they actually included the whole pilot version within this DVD, which is sold by the franchise. Why even do this, when it raises far more questions than it answers? The only logical reason I can come up with is that they’re laying out a track of little hints that anyone with a deep enough interest in the show to actually buy the DVDs can try to follow. And it seems to me that lying by omission is one of the first steps in the long line of cryptic and misleading author comments on this show. But at the same time, they clearly want the fans to have access to it all, even the abandoned version.

Moving on to Series 2, time for bigger lies

In the extra material of this DVD Benedict himself describes how his character "faces one of his deadliest enemies in the shape of Love, and it comes in the form of Irene Adler, who is this extraordinary dominatrix [insert here a bunch of superlatives regarding Adler]...”. And then we see how Adler whips Sherlock with a riding crop (without any kind of consent, I have to add) while he’s lying on the floor, and we have Lara Pulver telling us how it was to have a go at Benedict on set. So Holmes whips dead bodies and Adler whips living; seems like a match made in hell! :))

Gatiss claims, grinning with his whole face, that “they’re clearly, absolutely made for each other”. OK, so I think we can see Sherlock being intellectually impressed by Adler, and even trying to protect her from Mycroft, and we can see John acting jealously. We can also see her being dressed and styled as a perfect, female mirror of Sherlock. But I’m still at a loss what all this has to do with love on Sherlock’s part? Especially since he’s not even responding in any fashion to her various attempts at seducing him.

And there’s more: Paul McGuigan, the director of ASiB, claims that the scene where Sherlock has a conversation with Adler inside his Mind Palace about the crime case with the car that backfires "is a part of a kind of love story, if you like...” No, I don’t. Maybe it’s just me, but if their aim really was to convey to their audience a love story between Sherlock and The Woman, I think they failed miserably. All I see is a guy ’mansplaining’ to a clever woman how to use her brain, while she’s trying to flirt with him by expressing her admiration (to no avail, though) and make deductions at the same time. Nothing new under the sun, really. John did the same thing repeatedly in ASiP (without making own deductions) and got far more attention from Sherlock, but I’ve never heard any of the show makers call that ”a love story”. But by ’lie-splaining’ the scene with Irene to the audience, they try to manipulate us all to see it as such...

In all the direct commentary of this episode, where Steven, Mark, Sue, Benedict and Lara are present, I get the impression that every time they even touch on the relationship between Sherlock and John, they hurry to add the term “friendship” or “man love” or similar words in case they forgot them at first, avoiding even the tiniest possibility that there could be anything more going on between them. They even explain that when Irene calls them “a couple” she does not mean anything romantic. This whole approach feels almost paranoic in the midst of all the laid-back jokes and light-hearted talk about the filming. It’s as if a sort of restrictive, heteronormative filter or blanket is being constantly applied, to teach the audience the ‘no homo’ lesson of it all. And the more I listen to this, the more tiresome it becomes.

In the commentary Moffat does reveal an interesting detail, though: that the ‘Flight of the Dead’ in ASiB was inspired by a cut out scene in the Bond movie On Her Majesty's Secret Service. To me this is just one more reason to question the ‘authentic’ quality of this scene, as opposed to possibly taking place in Sherlock’s Mind Palace. But I digress...

Listening to the commentary in general, it’s like it’s aimed to distract the attention from what’s going on at the screen rather than highlight it and try to explain their intentions. They do mention that Irene didn’t actually ‘beat’ Sherlock in the end of ASiB, but there’s no explanation of this obvious deviation from canon, where Adler does indeed fool Holmes, taking advantage of his prejudices.

The rest of the extra material of S2 is mostly about technical stuff, special effects and such, and also about filming techniques and Benedict’s delivery of fast deductions. But the part I really do love is the one where Andrew Scott talks about how much he enjoyed playing the scene where Moriarty dances before breaking into the Crown Jewels. That’s one of my favorite scenes of he whole show. :) Also, the takeaway message from this DVD is Moffat’s words at the end:

“These are still the formative years of Sherlock Holmes, and the most important thing about this series is not that it’s updated; it’s the fact that those two men are still young and they’re still at the beginning of what they don’t yet know is gonna be a lifelong partnership”.

And then comes Series 3...

...and its extra material, with the most blatant attempts at deception so far, I believe. At this point Sherlock is called a “psychopath” by both the show’s characters, John’s blog, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman as if it were true, which is a big deviation from ACD canon. That simply doesn’t happen there; while Holmes is sometimes described as eccentric, no one in the books is ever claiming that Sherlock Holmes has some kind of mental illness leaning towards cruelty and egotism - not even his enemies say this about him. In the show, however, they begin in ASiP with making him torture a dying man for information (something that is not included in the Pilot). And in S3, where they avoid discussing the reason why they turned Mary Morstan into a ruthless assassin, this major shift is glossed over by the fact that in the same episode (HLV) they also turn Sherlock into a murderer, who cold-bloodedly blows the brains out of a blackmailer for threatening to make said assassin’s crimes public.

But without ever getting into the “why” of it all, the cast and crew seem overly happy and smiling describing these rather morbid choices as something positive; “fantastic”, "fresh and new” and "amazing” are their choice of words. Benedict claims that Mary, who has literally shot and almost killed Sherlock in HLV, is now "a new best friend of Sherlock’s”. Amanda claims that Mary “is protecting John” when she shoots Sherlock in the chest. Now they’re both psychopaths, and poor little John is forced to stomach them both because he’s addicted to danger. In Amanda’s words, Mary also “kind of gets in between the two of them, but she wants them to be together as well”. Which is a load of BS considering that Mary tries to kill the protagonist of the story.

Lars Mikkelsen thinks it’s “such a good script” because “you’re mislead as an audience”. But he never gets the chance to expand on what the misleading actually contains, because then Mofftiss cut in to express how much they love playing with “what ifs”. As if this whole mega-budget project of a show were just a big experimental playground without any actual story to tell.

Benedict repeats his line from HLV that Magnussen “preys on people who are different” and Moffat also says he “exploits people who are different”. Which is really confusing, considering what we can see Magnussen actually do in the show. Lady Smallwood and John Garvie are two well-established, powerful governmental politicians whom Magnussen blackmails by finding their respective pressure points. In Garvie’s case his pressure point seems to be alcohol problems in his past, but according to media he’s later arrested on charges of corruption. Lady Smallwood is blackmailed on the basis of her husband having sent compromising letters to a minor many years ago, in spite of later claiming that he thought she was older and stopped when he found out the truth. And then Magnussen is blackmailing an assassin who recently threatened to execute him but shot Sherlock Holmes instead, in order to try to get at Sherlock’s brother Mycroft, another powerful governmental figure.

But what does media seeking out dirt on certain people in power and their families have to do with “people who are different”? Despicable as the method may be, isn’t this unfortunately how political power play usually works in our society? Or are TPTB somehow a repressed minority group now? Unless this whole “people who are different” accusation is actually about something entirely different, something that none of the show makers even cares to mention... ;)

In these DVDs, none of the involved persons is ever discussing the change of roles with regards to canon, though, or the (lack of) logics in this turn of events, or even a hint about the narrative motivation behind them. It’s all about the great Drama, the extraordinary visual effects and the aim to endlessly “surprise the audience”. Which is fine by me to a certain extent, but when this is all that’s being said, it feels extremely superficial, as if the audience is merely seen as a bunch of consumers that have to be triggered more and more by horror, special effects and cliff hangers to be able to appreciate the show. (“Warm paste” indeed, like Gatiss has later criticized some viewers of wanting...) While the "why”; the idea behind this surrealistic adaptation, made by self-proclaimed fanboys of ACD, is not even touched upon. Around this, the silence is total and therefore totally confusing.

Maybe I shouldn’t even go into Series 4...

...but why not, since I’ve already started? :)

First of all, there’s a lot of extra material on this DVD and I particularly love the parts about the music and composing and Arwel Wyn Jones’ work with the design and build-up of John’s and Mary’s flat and the interior of 221B. Those bits are truly enjoyable. What I could live without, though, is the leading commentary that kind of instructs us, the audience, how we should interpret the show.

Benedict is on it again on this DVD, telling us that in TST they picked up where they left off in S3 and “It’s a very happy unit of three people that then become four.” Why does he feel the need to make this statement, considering how S3 ended? Actually, if there’s anything I totally fail to see in S4, it’s happiness. The banter between the three of them may seem entertaining for a while, but who could have a relaxed, warm relationship with someone who tried and almost succeeded to kill you less than a year ago? Without any sign of remorse? Now there’s a dark tone of discomfort and mean jokes that feels forced and not even a bit happy to me.

But Martin tells us how excited John and Mary are about starting a family and Amanda mentions how much they’re looking forward to the baby. Again and again it’s repeated, as though trying to rub it in: “they’re in a good place, they’re a loving, married couple”. Yeah, right - a child that (judging by TSoT) wasn’t at all planned and now with an assassin for a mother... Twice we see the new parents complain that their daughter has the mark of Satan on her forehead and debate which horror movie she’s from. The clichéd hypocrisy of it all is sickening, and I’m willing to bet that it’s really meant to be. ;)

But Gatiss chimes in, deciding for us all that the christening of Rosie is “a funny scene” and “they’re enjoying each other, enjoying being on adventures as a three”.

An interesting detail is that Gatiss also tells us that the working name of this episode was “The Adventure of the Melting power Ranger”. So this little blue guy was that important? :) And - even more interesting - is when he says: “Cake is now the code for violent death”. So how should we interpret Sherlock, John and Molly going out to have cake in TLD then, on Sherlock’s (supposed) birthday?

These might be jokes, though, but when they tell us that Sue cries every time she sees Mary’s death I strongly believe they must be joking. How could anyone feel truly moved by this overly sentimental long monologue where far more efforts are put into reacting to Mary’s speech than saving her life? And John’s mooing like a cow, is that also moving? :)

One thing Martin says about TLD that actually disgusts me is regarding the morgue scene where John assaults Sherlock and Sherlock lets it happen: “From there, really, their relationship can only sort of rebuild, that’s the absolute worst it can get”. As if outright physical abuse would be something that makes you want to rebuild a relationship? Wow - just wow... How far can they go with this crap?

Anyway, when we finally arrive at the absurdity of TFP and Sherlock’s ‘secret sister’, everything is of course discussed as if she actually does exist on the given premises, and everything she does is ‘real’, no matter how impossible it would be in real life. The abandonment of any attempt to have the story line make logical sense is skillfully covered up by more distraction with fascinating technicalities of the film making process. This is where Gatiss makes his now almost classic statement that after Sherlock and John jump out of the window at 221B when a grenade explodes there, it’s just “Boop! And they’re fine.”

Of course there’s no serious attempt at explaining this logically. Except perhaps Gatiss claiming that they both landed on Speedy’s awning - whatever good that would do to them, since the awning is leaning downwards, but never mind... But we never even saw that happen, did we? A great deal of time is then dedicated to show all the precautions to have Martin and Ben jumping safely at low level onto a madras supported by empty cardboard boxes.

Sian Brooke did say something interesting about Sherrinford, however, that got me thinking. She said that Eurus “wants revenge for the years and years that she has been held captive” there, isolated, and that in TFP the Holmes children are now “lab rats” and “it’s an experiment”. On a meta level, I think we can indeed see this episode - and maybe the whole show - as a kind of experiment, but maybe we, the audience, are also lab rats? Since Sherrinford is slightly shaped like a film camera (not commented in the extra material, of course), it leads my thought to all the adaptations through the years and years where Holmes and Watson have not been allowed to be together. A whole century when Sherlock Holmes has been held captive, restricted by the very same sort of heteronormative filter that all this extra material imposes; it’s like Sherrinford, isn’t it? Which gives all the more meaning to Moriarty’s arrival to the island, accompanied by Freddy Mercury’s “I want to break free”...

I think I’ll let the final words in this little exposé come from Mark Gatiss in The Writers’ Chat (my bolding):

“Moriarty is a fascinating thing in that in our sea of ongoing lies, one thing we’ve genuinely been completely consistent about is telling people he’s dead. But no-one believes it! And it’s a rather brilliant thing.” Again - self-congratulatory statements. But instead of providing some actual evidence of the death of this character, who has kept popping up in almost every episode since his supposed demise, they think that the more a confirmed liar repeats something, the truer it gets? And the more we’re supposed to believe them? Well, all we can do is wait and see. :)

Tagging some people who might be interested:

@raggedyblue @ebaeschnbliah @sarahthecoat @gosherlocked @lukessense @sagestreet @thepersianslipper

My earlier meta on a similar topic (X)

#bbc sherlock dvds #Deception in BBC Sherlock

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fa-headhoncho · 3 years

Text

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: You raid the Flag Smasher's base with Walker and Hoskins, bringing back unwanted memories.

Word Count: 2701 (sorry lol)

Reader: Female

Warning: non-con kissing, nudity, blood

Author's Note: lmk for taglist

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

=====

“Ich habe keine Ahnug, wovon du sprichst.” The man sternly says, taking a step to size up Hoskins. “Ihr Amerikaner seid brutal geworden.” He insults causing you to tense, but in a way you knew he was right and it frustrated you. The GRC had good intentions but they didn’t understand what these people were going through.

Hell, you didn’t understand what they were going through. When Steve and the Avengers took you in, it wasn’t exactly a bad situation compared to what others had to deal with during the Blip. Especially with the ones who came back to nothing to their name anymore. The volunteer work made you realize that and it conflicted you. The Flag Smashers had a worthy cause and they were banding together in the wrong way.

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit!” Walker whines out causing you to tense. The tone wasn’t nice and you knew the three of you didn’t come all the way to Germany for nothing. He was getting angry, there was something here and something he had to prove. “We know she came through here. Now, where’d she go?” He demands, his voice threatening.

The man directs his attention to the Captain and looks him up and down. Walker’s stance straightens and you can see his fist balled at his sides. Over the short time of getting to know the new Captain America, you could tell he was falling apart a bit in this situation. Honestly, he wasn’t the worse guy when it came down to the bare bones of things but power can do wonders to a corrupt mind.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when the German fellow spits on America’s new golden boy. The blonde lets out a sigh, showing he was physically restraining himself to jump on the guy. He looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes narrowing and his head tilted towards the target. The look was the familiar that made your mind flashback to the countless times a Hydra official gave the same look.

Mind going into autopilot, the boys separate like they’ve done these a million times. You stalk forward and brace your forearm, shoving the man back and holding him against the pillar behind him.

“Do you know who I am?” Walker screams out from behind you making you snap back to reality. You immediately release him and step back, the blonde taking your spot in front of him with a threatening gaze.

“Yes I do, and I don’t care.” The man spits back and you see a shift in Walker’s eyes. There was a flash of hurt then it switched to frustration, quickly regaining his facade, blocking out any emotion in his eyes. He leans forward slightly and you think he’s about to punch the guy but he steps back.

The officers start to cuff the man while Walker whispers something to Hoskins and then walks away. You watched with a dazed expression on your face, not believing you fell back into your old ways so quickly with just one gaze. There was a part of you still stuck in your past that you didn’t know about until Walker had you join him in this assignment. It frightened you.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder bringing you out of your negative thoughts. Looking up, you see Hoskin’s kind eyes. “You okay?” He asks in a sincere tone which slightly surprises you. The little voice in the back of your head told you that it was just him trying to manipulate you like they used to and that it was their fault that you were back into all this however a much louder one says otherwise.

You shake your head, forcing a tight-lipped smile to appear on your face. “Yea,” You breathe out and slowly repeat the mantra your therapist had taught you years ago. He stands there for a moment, the internal battle in his mind playing in his eyes.

“I know this isn’t the ideal situation for you but we really do appreciate your help.” His grip on your shoulder tightens in a comforting manner. “I understand Walker hasn’t been the… kindest to you and I can’t apologize for him. He’s still figuring this stuff out, I promise he isn’t always this much of an asshole.”

You nod, letting his words sink in. You never thought how much stress this could be on him. He went from a normal life to being thrown into this hero thing with the title and responsibility Steve took years to build up. It was a lot for him and he didn’t need you reminding him of what he wasn’t.

Hoskins notices your demeanor change and releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He takes his hand off of you and takes a glance toward the hallway where his best friend left then to his left where all the Flag Smashers computers laid out unattended. “I heard you’re pretty good with intel.”

You let out an ironic chuckle, of course, he chose his moment to bring that up. “You had to ruin it.” An apologetic look comes across his face and you wave it off, knowing that it’s time to get back to the task at hand. “Go after your boyfriend, I’ll see what I can do.”

He rolls his eyes at your comment before jogging off to follow Walker. A small smile sneaks its way onto your lips as you watch him leave. It was nice to get an insight on Walker and have a little banter with Hoskins. It made you relax, feeling that you were no longer a hostage in a pretend game of hero.

The police officers around you start collecting what minimal things were in the Flag Smasher’s base. They grab the files in the cabinets, the food they have in the other room, and they even grab the goddamn chairs. They weren’t leaving any stone unturned when it came to this and you understood why... this was Walker’s first mission leading as Captain America and he wasn’t going to mess it up. Your heart goes out to him but that didn’t mean you liked him.

You hold up a hand to the man in uniform as he goes to take the laptop, signaing that you wanted to use it. He nods in understanding and moves to collect other objects. Plopping down on the metal chair, you turn and start typing away.

=====

The room was luxurious like the rest of the mansion. The walls were high, windows extending from the floor to ceiling, giving a breathtaking view of the landscape behind the home. It was a bedroom, a large California king against the wall opposite of the windows. A large desk with a dramatic-looking chair sat near the bathroom causes an evil smile to appear.

“Here it is.” The American turns around while holding his arms out.

“Wunderschön.” You respond, forcing an astonished look on your face. The dark-haired man furrows his eyebrows in response. “Uh… very pretty.” You pretend to struggle with your English to keep up the persona your file had described. He gleams at the compliment and moves to close the distance between the two of you.

He slips his hand around your waist, pressing his body against your scantily clad one. You wanted nothing more than to push him off and slit his throat but your bosses would be punish you for not following the mission orders. Especially when he starts trailing kisses down your neck.

You throw your head back and allow him access though. The kisses and nips were numb on your skin as you lazily trail your eyes around the room. The black dress left no room to hide anything so that meant anything pointy had to be disgusted in your purse… which was left on the dresser next to the closed door. You inwardly cringe at your mistake, saving it in the back of your head for future undercover missions.

There was no chance to lead him back to the entrance so you had to think fast. Gently pushing the man away, he doesn’t take the hint to get off of you and attaches his lips to yours. Your eyes widen in surprise but you quickly recover.

He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes and it made your stomach turn. Finally, he pulls away and you take the opportunity to look up at him through your lashes. That was enough for him to start fiddling with the zipper on your back. You let out an airy giggle at the way he struggles with it.

“Here.” You turn around and pull your long hair over your shoulder to give him better access. He hums out and starts to pull the metal tag down. Mind trailing off again, your eyes land on the laptop on his desk. The object of the whole reason why you were here.

The mission assigned was simple since it was your first undercover mission for Hydra. They thought you would be a good candidate considering you were young and “perky” in their words. Having no other choice than to compromise, they dressed you up and gave an identity to play as to get close enough to take the information off the computer.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see a glimmer of light bounce off something in the corner of the room. The man paid no mind to it as it was a coincidence to your dress hitting the floor and the cold A/C of the room hitting your skin. You squint your eyes and try to make out the figure but it’s interrupted by the man spinning you around and throwing you onto the bed.

You stare wide eyed up at the man while he stands above you. A feeling of fear courses through your body at the thought of what’s about to come. The original plan was to sneak off with the target and tranq him but you fucked it up. The boss was going to have your ass if you didn’t figure out a way to get to that laptop.

You didn’t want to do anything further with this sleazeball but you also didn’t want to starve for the next few days. Closing your eyes, you wait for it all the happen. You’ve endured worse at the hands of Hydra so this would sadly come easy for you to block out.

A loud gunshot rings through the room and you feel something warm splatter across your body. Your eyes snap open in a panic to figure out what just happened. The man who was once hovering over you is now lying on the floor with a bullet in his head, blood pooling underneath him. Slowly, your gaze trails up to your own body causing your breath the hitch in your throat once again. Dots of blood litter your skin and undergarments which only meant--

“Are you okay?” A raspy voice calls out, one that you’ve never heard before. A piece of cloth comes into view, the metal hand attached to it surprises you. The Soldier has never shown this type of kindness to you, well anyone, before and it made you nervous. You hesitantly grab the wet cloth from him and start wiping the blood off of your body.

His stare was directed on the floor to give you some type of privacy. It was weird that the Soldier was showing you such care that you didn’t even think could be possible. You knew of his story, a brainwashed POW victim that was programmed to kill. But here he was, waiting patiently for you with your dress in his hand.

Once cleaned up, you stand up and bump into him. His head turns to you causing you to melt instead of flinching away like you usually would. His piercing blue eyes send a shiver down your spine. There was emotion in them. Concern.

Carefully, you reach out and place a hand on the metal appendage. The Soldier’s body immediately relaxes under the foreign soft touch. “Thank you, Soldat.” You whisper out, fearing that any hostility would send him back to his murderous state. Something flashes behind his eyes as he nods in response.

You wake up with a gasp, blankets are long forgotten on the floor. Your chest was heaving up and down as you try to compose yourself from the memory that forced itself into your dream. It’s been a while since you had a nightmare and you were confused. Maybe going back into the field wasn’t good for you. It was bringing back the part of you that you worked so hard to get past.

The abrupt sound of a phone ringing makes you flinch. You reach around blindly until your hand feels the cool touch of your phone laying on the bed next to you. Not even looking at the screen, you slide the green bubble and bring it up to your cheek.

“Hello?” You answer, cringing at how weak you sound.

“(Y/N).”

You close your eyes and release a deep breath, your body physically relaxing at the familiar voice. “Yea, what’s up, Buck?”

“We haven’t heard from you all day, we were wondering how this morning went. Did you find anything?” His tone was soft and steady in contrast to the bustling of the environment behind him.

You shake your head and bring your hand up to run it through your messy hair, “No, not of importance. I went through their laptop but most of the significant information was remotely deleted or something… Found the files but not the documents.” You shrug and fall back onto the pillows behind you. His hum is followed by comfortable silence… until you hear someone whine in the background.

“Are you gonna talk to her or are you gonna sit there like lovesick teen-- Hey, not with the metal arm!” Sam is cut off with what you assume is Bucky slapping him. You giggle at the sound of metal hitting concrete. “Jesus, man, you’re crazy.”

“I won’t miss next time.” Bucky threatens with his teeth clenched, you can imagine him pointing his finger at him with a scowl on his face. The silence resumes while you stare at the lamp on the bedside table. “Are you okay? You’re oddly quiet.”

You hesitate for a moment, your dream flashing in your head. “Yea.” You softly confess, “Just had a weird dream.”

He waits for you to elaborate, knowing you would do the same for him.

“Hydra.”

“Oh,” He lets out a breath and takes a few moments before continuing, “I’ve been having some of those too.” He admits, “More than usual, I guess. Being back out here is triggering some memories and not the normal ones.”

A sense of relief washes over you at his confession. Knowing he was going through the same thing sends a pang to your heart but it was a good thing to know you weren’t alone.

“Well, I have to head out. We have a possible led and we need to check it out before it’s too late.” Bucky announces, you frown. It was nice to be able to talk over the phone with him even though you saw him recently and you didn’t want it to end. “Text me if you need anything, doll, I’m only a message away.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his nickname for you. “Same for you, Buck… Be careful.”

“When am I not careful?” He chuckles out, you can hear Sam snort and mumble something in the background. “I didn’t ask you, Wilson.”

“Just, please, be safe.” You beg, you knew the two didn’t have any restraints and would do whatever it took to get the information they needed. Sam has broken the law for him once and you’re sure he would do it again for a good cause. “I…” You hesitate for a second, the words you wanted to say didn’t come out. “I don’t know what I would do if something bad happened to you…”

“Don’t worry about me, doll.” He tries to calm your nerves but there’s a twinge of nervousness in his tone that makes you uneasy. “I promise.”

_____

taglist: @crowleysqueenofhell @mischiefmanaged71 @thewinterrbucky @lizajane3 @ahahafudge @spookycereal-s @a-girl-who-loves-disney @kittengirl998 @ sebby-staan @felicityofbakerstreet @sltwins @tanyaherondale

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #mcu #bucky x y/n #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter solider x reader #twatws

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Otherworldly Kings and Queens (10/10) Peter version

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Female!Reader/ Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader Warnings: emotional ending but happy! Word Count: 2.8k Part Summary: As the Pevensies time in Narnia comes to an end, Y/N must decide. There isn’t just one question that needs to be answered... who will Y/N pick? Will Y/N really consider staying in Narnia? A/N: And with that one of my first series comes to an end... it’s both exciting yet sad at the same time as I’ve had so much fun writing it. Thank you to everyone who’s followed the series! I appreciate you so much! SOOOO emotional! I never thought of writing both versions of the ending BUT I’m so glad I did so thank you to whoever suggested it!!! I envisioned Y/N picking Caspian, but this ending is gold :)

Masterlist

The whole Talmarine kingdom, as well as Narnians, have gathered in the courtyard for the ceremony. Aslan has made the decision to allow some Talmarines to leave Narnia if they choose. Apparently, Talmarines are like the Pevensies and myself I suppose, they're from our world. They traveled to Narnia centuries ago by accident and made a home here. Caspian speaks to his people with such ease as he encourages them to consider the offer. He's a natural-born leader. He's meant to be Narnia's future king. As I come to this conclusion, I take Peter's hand beside me. He glances down at me, having not expected the action. Nonetheless, he gives my hand a comforting squeeze and offers me a gentle smile of reassurance.

"Are you alright?" He questions in a whisper with a tad of worry resting on his brows.

"I just... when we got here I would've done anything to go back home. Now that the war is over and Miraz is gone, I've come to realize I'm quite fond of Narnia," I explain my predicament.

Peter chuckles lightly, pleased with the news considering how much he adores this place. "I always hoped you would. Whenever I told you about Narnia, I wished I could've shown it to you. I'm glad you came with us this time. Now you understand," he reasons.

General Glozelle and Miraz's wife, Prunaprismia, volunteer first with her baby. In honor of their bravery, Aslan blesses them with a good future. The pair walk toward the tree that Aslan has made part in half. Everyone watches in awe the General and former Queen disappear in a blink. My lips part in astonishment. I don't think I'll ever get used to magic. Gasps fall across the crowd and people begin to question Aslan's intentions. They fear this is all a trick.

Peter slips his hand from mine and steps forward. "We'll go," he volunteers us.

"We Edmund frowns, sharing my expression.

"Wait, what?" I express rather rashly.

In my defense, it's justified. Peter never asked for my opinion. He's deciding for me. Aslan... Aslan made it out to seem as though I had a choice, as though we all would have at least some more time here. "Come on. Our time's up," Peter tells me solemnly, but an ounce of hope lingers in his tone. "After all... we're not really needed here anymore," he determines while approaching Caspian to offer him his sword.

"I will look after it until you return," Caspian assures Peter confidently.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan interjects beside me. "We're not coming back."

"We're not?" Lucy pouts with concern.

"You two are," Peter predicts, glancing between Aslan and his youngest sister. "At least, I think he means you two."

"But why?" Lucy struggles to comprehend the purpose behind this news, as do I. "Did they do something wrong?"

"Quite the opposite, Dear One," Aslan voices. "Your brother and sister have learned what they can from this world. Now it's time for them to live on their own." Aslan comforts each of us with his wisdom.

Though, frankly, I'm finding it hard to swallow this harsh pill. But all things have their time.

"It's all right, Lu," Peter tries to ease Lucy's mind as he takes her hand gently. "It's not how I thought it would be...but it's all right."

Peter directs his attention to me and holds out his free hand for me to take. "One day you'll see, too. Come on."

He offers me a weak smile, not one that shows genuine happiness, but contentment. I ease my hand out to glide it into his, but something stops me. A feeling in my chest telling me not to settle as Peter as with his decision. I shift my head toward Aslan to ask the lion directly. "And what about me?"

My patience is growing thin. All this back-and-forth yet I haven't heard a concrete answer about where I belong. Aslan is constantly confusing me with his tricky wording. One minute he makes me believe that finding him wasn't my purpose for coming here and the next he's telling Peter that his time here is over. I belong where Peter is, I always have. If his purpose is in our world... then so is mine. Then, does that mean I'm like Edmund and Lucy? Am I destined to return in the future? How far in the future? Narnian time is different from ours, who knows how many years will pass before we're here again. It could be another thousand years in Narnian time. "Your course is not as clear-cut as theirs," Aslan states with uncertainty. "You still have much to learn from here, as do Edmund and Lucy. Going back means one day, you will return, as will they."

"So I am to go back," I hope to clarify.

All I want is an answer, to know my path.

"Returning to your world will bring you back here someday, yes, that is a course you may take," Aslan nods calmly.

So, after all this time, after all the back-and-forth, Aslan is guiding me toward Peter. He made it sound as though I had to make this life-altering decision. The first few days we were here, I would've given anything to go back home. I never wanted to be in Narnia. Now that I have my chance to get out and everyone is rushing me out the door, I'm digging my heels into the dirt begging for a moment's pause. All this time Aslan has been pressing me to make a decision, why do I feel as though he's making it for me? It's suffocating.

I glance between Aslan and Peter nervously. Aslan wears his usual gentle and patient smile while Peter is confused with furrowed brows. His hand remains out to me, lingering for mine to join it. I whip my head around and my eyes land on Caspian. His features fall as he comes to terms with my departure. I approach the future King solemnly. All I can keep thinking is 'more time! More time! If only we had more time!' I can't visualize who the 'we' is exactly. When I say it, all I can think of is the riverbank in the forest. I see myself lying beside the river in the plush green, flower-covered, grass. The warmth of the golden sun scatters over my skin. I spent time with both Peter and Caspian there. What I would give to return to those moments. Whether I'm hoping it's with Peter or Caspian, I can't see. Each of them matters to me, on what level I can't decide.

"I'm glad I came," I tell Caspian whole-heartedly.

"I wish we had more time together," the prince sighs, taking my hands in his.

His hands are warm. Mine are always cold. I never noticed that before now. I'll miss that.

"I'm not entirely sure I belong here," I confess timidly, still unsure of my thoughts and Aslan's advice.

"Why not?" Caspian frowns as if my words are nonsense.

"I’m not of this world and if the Pevensies are 1,300 years older than you so am I," I shrug with a hint of a smile as I comprehend how old I am. I'm not a Narnian or a monarch of Narnia. Aslan said I was meant to come here with the Pevensies, but our time is up and I've yet to find this purpose he speaks so much about.

Caspian expresses a faint smile, amused by my humor, but too solemn to fully be happy. Both of us pull the other into an embrace. The words continue to repeat in my mind. 'More time! More time! If only we had more time!' I feel as though I'm standing on the edge of the cliff overlooking a deep trench and I'm stuck wondering whether I should jump. Caspian and I part from one another. It's painful. I feel safe with him, more secure and understood than I ever have before. I don't want to let go, but at the same time, I'm yearning to cling to Peter.

Peter meets me halfway and wraps an arm around my waist, leading me toward the tree trunk. The Pevenesies begin toward the tree as well, ready to go on.

"It’ll be okay," Peter whispers in my ear as he brings me into his side.

I feel safe here with him. Peter is home for me. For years, he's been my rock, my strength. Through the war, losing my dad, through all the bad, Peter has been my guiding light.

He continues to comfort me. "Everything will be as if we-"

"Peter, no wait... " I shake my head as my steps come to a halt.

It takes a second for Peter to react. He comes to a halt a few steps ahead of me. Turning over his shoulder, he gives me a confused look.

"I can’t go back," I voice, but my volume is weak. "At least not yet... not until I know that I've done what I must do."

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"I... I think I’m still needed here..." I stammer with uncertainty. "At least... At least that’s what I think Aslan means. He speaks like a fortune teller and it’s confusing!"

Peter switches his now crossed expression from me to the lion. "Aslan, is that true?"

"Y/N’s future is not set in stone as your four’s is in history. She has known that she has to decide her course of action for some time. The clock is dwindling," Aslan explains steadily, looking to me to decide.

Lucy steps forward from behind Peter. "You mean you have to stay here?"

"It means I have a choice," I do my best to word it less harshly to the little one. "Staying here or coming again later. I’m assuming the next time will be with you and Edmund. Either way, I’m needed here. I just know it." I try to explain, but how do I explain a feeling?

"Neither choice is wrong," Aslan injects as he moves to stand beside Peter and me. "Going back to your world would mean you would return with Edmund and Lucy. After that, your life will be as you've always envisioned with who you envisioned. Staying here would be as you've envisioned as well," Aslan explains, giving me a knowing look. "You will prosper in both worlds, in whichever you decide."

Does Aslan know that I haven't been able to stop thinking about the riverbank? Is that what he's referring to? Does he mean that if I stay in Narnia I'll be with Caspian? If I return to England Peter and I will be together? Choosing a world also means choosing between Peter and Caspian.

"But why?" Lucy pouts.

"I don’t know," I struggle to say as my eyes begin to well up.

"I do," Peter voices.

"What?" I mutter.

"I didn’t understand it at first, but Aslan told me something earlier today. He said, ‘as much as we wish we could, sometimes we can’t choose who we love, the world chooses for us.’ You’re needed here. This is why you were brought here with us. When Caspian called for us with the horn, he unknowingly was calling to you as well."

I switch my gaze between Caspian and Peter frantically. Both of them meet my gaze with eagerness, wondering what I'll choose, as does everyone else.

"So I will return with Lucy and Edmund in the future if I go home?" I clarify with Aslan, hoping for a direct answer.

"Yes, if that's what you decide, Child," he nods.

I press my lips together as my throat becomes strained from holding back tears. "Peter I- "

"It’s okay," he assures me as his hand glides up to cup my cheek. "Everything is as it should be."

I can tell he's doing his best to stay strong for my sake. Tears flow from his eyes silently and the sight pierces my heart.

"If this is how it should be, why does it hurt so much?" I mutter, my tone shaky with emotion.

Peter shakes his head as his eyes become glossy. "It won’t forever. We’ll both grow and find that which we were destined to. I always thought we would find that together," he chuckles softly, it's bitter-sweet. "But this is right," he speaks with certainty.

"But I’ll never see you again," I comprehend the harsh reality of it all. "I... I don't want that! I can't imagine my life without you in it! You've always been there and I... haven't I lost enough people already? How many more goodbyes must I say?"

"We mustn’t think like that. One day we'll be together again!" Peter thinks optimistically.

This isn't fair. None of this is fair! In choosing Narnia, in choosing a different life for myself, I'm losing my best friend. I'm losing the one person who kept me going, who gave me a reason to survive.

"I love you," I cry.

Peter grins at my words, a faint and joyful chuckle escapes between his teeth. "And I’ve always loved you, perhaps I always will. We’ll never lose that, even across worlds."

I nod repeatedly, holding onto every syllable. I pray and hope, that he's right. Peter pulls me into his chest and I wrap my arms around him for dear life. I grip the fabric of his loose shirt in my fists. His hand cradles my head as he plants a kiss on my forehead.

Do the ones we love ever truly leave us? Is the memory of them strong enough to keep us going in their absence? I doubt a day will pass by where Peter doesn't cross my mind or any of the Pevensies for that matter.

Now that our time has officially run out, I say my goodbyes to each of the Pevensies. I'm not just saying goodbye to Peter's siblings, each of them has become family to me. Lucy and Susan cry with me as the three of us hug each other. Edmund does his best not to show emotion, but I can see behind his stone-hard expression that he's holding back. His tight embrace is enough evidence as well.

When the moment comes for the Pevensies to return to London, I hold onto Peter's hand as I approach the tree with them. His siblings walk a step ahead as Peter walks backward to face me. Until the last second, we hold on.

"Someday," I nod, as though I'm making a promise that one day we'll see each other again.

He nods, agreeing to the vow. "Someday."

Our hands begin to slip as Peter backs away toward the cliff between the tree halves and my breath hitches in my throat. I stare into his sea-glass eyes and the seconds travel rapidly by. In a blink, he's gone, disappeared from my world.

A gasp escapes my lips at the sight. My arm falls to my side as tears glide down my cheeks. My heart sinks as reality hits me that I'll never see Peter ever again as long as we're alive. An arm wraps around my waist, supporting me. Caspian appears in my peripheral vision as my eyes remain locked on the open space beneath the tree.

"It’ll be okay," he reassures me as he rubs his hand up and down my back.

I swallow hard, my face becomes blank other than the tears falling down my cheeks. A deep sense of emptiness consumes me inch by inch starting from my heart.

"As long as you've done what's right by your conscious and your heart, you could never be wrong, Dear One," Aslan advises smoothly.

I stare ahead at the tree, waiting for Peter to reappear though I know he'll never come. Have I done wrong? If this is what's meant to happen, why does it hurt so much? This is agony.

Caspian tries to usher me away, "come, Y/N, we can go back to-"

"No!" I blurt out suddenly, making him halt.

My eyes search the tree in a panic and then I turn to Caspian. "I'm sorry... I... I can't do this!"

The prince's features fall as he processes my words. "But..."

"I'm so sorry Caspian," I cry. "I love Narnia and I'm so glad that we've met but..." I glance over at the empty space where Peter last stood with a deep sigh. "I don't think I can be truly happy here if a piece of me is elsewhere."

Caspian swallows hard, clenching his jaw to withhold his emotions. "You love him," he determines.

Knowing that in choosing Peter I'm hurting Caspian is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Yet, it wasn't until Peter vanished from my sight did I come to realize that the answer to my million questions was right there in front of me this whole time. It's Peter, it's always been, Peter.

I lean up and plant a kiss on Caspian's lips, one last kiss. He deepens the kiss and it's a bitter-sweet farewell. When we part, he wraps his arms around me in an embrace. I wrap my arms around him tightly, holding onto the hope that Aslan is right and one day we may see each other again.

"One day," I mutter against his chest. "One day I hope we're reunited."

Caspian parts from me and expresses a weak smile as he brushes his hand against my cheek, wiping away the remaining tears. "I'll count the days until your return."

“I pray it’s soon,” I confess. “I fear I’ll miss you more than I can bare.”

In choosing Peter, I lose Caspian. In choosing Caspian, I lose Peter. Neither choice is painless.

I glance toward the lion, "so am I right about this?"

I can’t leave without being sure.

"You were never wrong," he smiles.

I switch my gaze to Trumpkin, the crowd of Narnians, and Telemarines. All of them await my next move. Swiftly, I plant a kiss on Caspian's cheek, preparing to rush after the Pevensies. I turn toward the tree with a smile, knowing in my heart this is right. I turn my back to the tree and begin to back away from Caspian as Peter did to me. I hold onto the Prince's hand until the last moment. Our fingertips barely touching.

"Goodbye for now," I phrase lightheartedly with a soft grin.

"Farewell-"

Caspian's words are cut short as my vision changes from the courtyard to a chaotic train station. I'm standing in the middle of the platform as people move about me. The peace of the courtyard is replaced with deafening noise. I blink rapidly, piecing together what's happened. I glance down at my clothes and I'm in my school uniform again. My hair wisps around as a train flies through the station. I'm back, I'm back in London! Peter. I need to find him!

Frantically, I shift between people, rushing through the station to find the Pevensies. They have no idea I'm here. It'll be like a needle in a haystack with everyone dressed in the same uniforms. Perhaps they're where we left for Narnia, by the bench! As the idea pops into my mind, I begin to run. I scan each head, each face, all looking for one. Then, in a flash, I spot the blonde speckled hair I've been longing to see. Peter paces in front of the bench, his eyes on the floor and his hand rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are red and his eyes bloodshot. His sisters and brother are huddled together by the bench, likely discussing their departure and my decision to stay. Little do they know...

"Peter!" I shout impulsively.

Peter whips his head around, searching the crowd for me. His glossy eyes are wide with surprise and his lips are parted. The other Pevensie children appear just as shocked. Then, he finds me. Amongst the crowd and chaos, his sea-glass eyes that I've been longing to see again since the moment he left have found me.

"Y/N?" He mouths breathlessly.

Peter begins to shove through the crowd, leaving his stunned siblings behind. I glide between bodies, excusing myself along the way. The seconds feel like hours as the distance dwindles but feels miles long. All I keep thinking is 'get to him! Get to him!' Before, I envisioned the riverbank. I longed for it. I couldn't see who was with me there in my visions until now, Peter. We were at peace, happy even. I believed the whole reason behind my want for those moments was to stay in Narnia. Yet, I've come to realize that it doesn't matter where I am, as long as it's with Peter.

In an instant, Peter's arms wrap around me and he frantically cradles my head, pressing it to his chest for dear life. He parts from me, cupping my face with astonishment.

He shouts, "what are you-"

Ignoring his words, I press my lips to his. Since the moment he disappeared all I wanted was to be with him again. At first, he's taken aback by my action, but after a second he comes to kiss me back. He cups my cheek and deepens the kiss. It’s salty, a mixture our of tears coming together. The world around us goes silent and nothing else matters. Despite everything, the war, the pain, the loss, this is where I'm meant to be. We part only to catch our breath.

"You came back?" He pants, lingering inches from my face. Now, tears of joy fall from his eyes. "But you're needed in Narnia! Aslan even said-"

"Destiny is a funny thing I've come to realize," I chuckle lightly with joy. "Everyone always speaks of it as though it must be an action or place. What if it's a person?"

The edge of his lips curl upward with pleasure, yet his brows scrunch together in confusion. "What happened to someday? You had the chance to be Queen! Grow old in Narnia! Caspian..."

"I was standing there, milliseconds after you left and I realized that none of it made any sense!" I explain breathlessly. "My world wouldn't be my world without you in it. Life wouldn't be worth living."

He gleams, overjoyed at my words. "So it's me?!"

"Oh silly boy, it's always been you," I giggle lightheartedly.

Peter releases a breathless laugh, emotional yet over the moon. He nods and swiftly brings his lips back to mine, holding my face in his hands longingly. No matter the world or time, I will follow him anywhere.

It's him. It's always been, Peter. Now, we have forever.

_____________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rangergranger11 @hyperactiveravenclaw @whiskeywinter89 @i-hav-no-life @damalseer

#narnia imagine #narnia #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #peter #caspian x reader #prince caspian #prince capsian x reader #lucy pevensie

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silhouetteofacedar · 3 years

Text

Impersonal, Ch. 7

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, Rated E

The game had ended and he wasn’t surprised.

He expected this. He prepared himself all day Saturday by running six miles, jacking off twice, and mopping his entire apartment. He didn’t even own a mop; he actually went out and bought one. By the time Sunday morning rolled around he was ready for the inevitable collapse of their precarious sexual arrangement and greeted Scully with aplomb.

And then she paid for breakfast.

That was unexpected. When the FBI wasn’t footing the bill, they usually split the tab, or threw a “you can get the next one” down on the table alongside crumpled bills.

He had been joking about it being a date, but then she paid. And it meant something. Her big blue eyes pinned him to the booth, had him trapped and squirming like an insect on a card as she laid a hand over the check. “I’ve got it,” she said, and his senses were suddenly ignited. He could feel thick sunshine pouring over them, lighting up Scully’s hair like a smudge of cinnamon. Her lips looked so sweet and soft, and the very idea that he might never feel them again stole his breath. He felt dry and empty, a desiccated housefly body lying on a windowsill.

He thanked her for breakfast, and his throat was lined with dust.

Their parting was weird. Hinting that he was still available to her was an insane risk, and she turned it into a joke about Frohike. Unless she actually thought he was the one joking about Frohike, which he has to admit wouldn’t be out of character for him.

He’s tired of joking, tired of hiding, tired of dancing around his intentions. Tired of wanting and not asking, tired of being in his own damn way.

Scully has given him a graceful exit, a neatly drawn map back to their pre-sex starting point. And not for the first time, Mulder wads up the map and tosses it aside. Scully made her move; it was time for him do the same.

What that move would be, he has no idea.

It takes him eleven days. No wonder Scully took matters into her own hands the first time around. Inspiration strikes him during his drive from Alexandria to D.C. the next Thursday morning, when he crosses the Potomac and gets a glimpse of faraway blossoms.

He waits until 4:47 that afternoon to say anything.

“Hey Scully, you doing anything tonight?” he asks, rifling through a stack of papers as though he’s attending to FBI business and not trying to work up courage like a schoolboy.

Her glossy red head is bent over a file, pen at her lip. “Besides folding an obscenely large pile of laundry, my schedule seems fairly empty,” she replies. She looks up at him suspiciously. “Why, Mulder?”

“No reason, really. There’s just something I wanted to show you, get your opinion on.”

“Is it related to a case?”

He opens a desk drawer, pretending to look for something. “Well it could be a totally natural phenomenon, but who can say for certain without proper investigation?”

Scully sighs. “Fine, I’ll bite. And speaking of bites, I’m starving. If we’re going to work off the clock, can we at least eat?”

“Wanna stop for Chinese? We can take it with us. We’re not going far, the food should still be hot when we get to our secondary location.”

They take Mulder’s car, picking up several cartons of food from a restaurant in Chinatown a few blocks up from the Hoover building before making their way towards the National Mall. Mulder parks in the lot near the Washington Monument.

“You weren’t kidding when you said we weren’t going far,” Scully says, gathering up the bag of takeout. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“That,” he replies, pointing ahead.

Hundreds of cherry trees line the Tidal Basin, their leaves almost entirely obscured by tufts of blossoms. Scully steps onto the path, open-mouthed.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs.

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Pretty fantastic, huh?”

“Mulder,” she says in awe, looking sideways at him, “What are we doing here?”

He shrugs. “I just wanted to see them.”

“At night?”

“Daylight’s for tourists, Scully.”

———

They’re sitting on the damp grass, endeavoring to split the last egg roll using only their dueling pairs of chopsticks.

“This is impossible, Scully. I’m going to use my hands.”

“Then I definitely don’t want the other half,” she says.

“Are you implying something about my hygiene?”

“I’ve seen some of the places your hands have been, Mulder.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Not what I meant,” she says softly. “But the point still stands.”

Mulder lays back on the lawn, his long coat fanning wide. Scully pulls an edge of it towards her, scoots closer so she can rest her pantyhose-clad calves on it instead of the grass.

“I’ve always preferred the blossoms at night,” he says. “There’s something ghostly about them, all pink and white against the dark sky. Not an ominous kind of ghostly, however; if good spirits exist, I think they’d look like these trees. You know most early European religions feature some sort of reverence for trees or forests, whether as spiritual gathering places or deities themselves-“

“Mulder.”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to eat that egg roll, or can I have it?”

He passes her the carton. “And-”

“Why did you bring me here, Mulder?”

He glances at her and is surprised to see a tenderness in her eyes. His gaze returns to the branches above.

“I just figured I owe you a nice trip to a forest, and this one won’t require any paperwork.”

Scully smiles. “That’s a very considerate choice, Mulder, especially since I’m always the one doing said paperwork.”

“You’re more succinct and readable than I am, apparently. And Skinner clearly likes you better.”

“Didn’t you punch him in the face once?”

“That’s beside the point. I think he has a bit of a crush on you, Scully.”

She rolls her eyes. “What?” Mulder asks.

“I just… it’s nothing, It’s been a long day. And it’s cold out here.”

Mulder sits up and withdraws his arms from the sleeves of his overcoat.

“No- Mulder, don’t, I’m fine.”

“Move your legs,” he instructs, pulling the edge of the coat out from under her. He stands and drapes it around her shoulders before plopping back down on the grass next to her.

“Thanks,” she says. “Still, it’s getting late.”

He glances at his watch. “It’s seven-thirty on a Thursday. You got somewhere to be?” His arm bumps her shoulder companionably. “Come on, just a little longer. Maybe we’ll see something unidentified in the sky.”

He grins at her and the corner of her mouth twitches in reply. “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice,” she sighs. “You drove us here.”

He feels a slight increase of pressure against his arm and realizes that Scully is ever so slightly leaning into him. A gentle warmth glows in his belly, and he glances sidelong at her.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, he thinks.

“How so?” Scully asks.

Oh. He said it out loud. He clears his throat, tries to steer his thoughts back into safer waters.

“Well, for one thing, I’m not dead,” he says. “Not for lack of trying.”

Scully nods solemnly.

“I’ve seen incredible things, things people spend their whole lives looking for, hoping for, believing in. I’ve tasted proof, held the truth in my hands. And in spite of everything, I’m still here. We’re still here. That’s pretty goddamn lucky.”

“I don’t feel very lucky,” Scully says softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve fucked up every good thing I’ve ever had a chance at. My father certainly thought so, at least for a long time.”

They sit silently for a moment. “Without you, I’d be long dead,” Mulder admits.

“I know,” Scully replies. “I’m always awed by your resilience, actually. I can’t take all the credit for your continued survival.”

“Yeah, you can,” he says, getting to his feet and dusting stray blades of grass off his slacks. He holds out a hand and helps her to her feet. Her fingers are cool against his palm, and he wonders if she’d notice if he didn’t let go. Probably.

He wants to pull her in by the lapels of his coat, gather her to his chest, hold her for no reason other than he can. Kiss her brow, smell her hair, feel her small hands sliding under his suit jacket. He wants her just as she is, for exactly who she is.

But he’s a chickenshit, so instead he just walks beside her along the Tidal Basin, under the cherry blossoms, and doesn’t hold her hand.

They spend the five minute drive back to the Bureau in comfortable silence. Scully leans her head against the car window, and Mulder briefly wonders if she’ll fall asleep. He loves when she nods off while he’s driving; it makes him feel safe. She makes him feel safe.

He parks a few spots away from her car in the Bureau parking garage, turns off the engine. Scully gathers up her briefcase, leaving Mulder’s coat draped open on the passenger seat.

“Why are you getting out?” she asks, seeing Mulder unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I need a file from the office,” he lies. He exits the car and goes around to her side. “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s on my way.”

It’s twenty feet from her car to his. “Thank you, Mulder,” Scully says sardonically, fishing her keys out of her coat pocket. “If I weren’t armed, that would have been very thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies. He takes a step forward.

“What are you doing?” Scully asks, one hand on her car door, keys in the other.

“Nothing,” he replies quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” God, she’s so small, this could so easily go wrong-

He pitches forward, bending down, and presses his lips to the fullness of her cheek. His nose brushes the soft skin under her eye and he inhales sharply, drawing back.

They blink at each other. “Bye,” Mulder offers.

Scully nods. “Yes. Goodnight.” She glances to the elevators. “Was there actually a file you needed?”

He just looks at her, and she presses her lips together in understanding. “Right. Well, I’m leaving, so… see you tomorrow then.”

Right. Despite recent events, the earth was still spinning.

Later, when he hangs his overcoat, he notices the faintest scent of her shampoo on the collar.

#awwwwwwwww they're so awkward and dumb #impersonal #my fic #txf fic #xfiles #msr #slow burn #also pls listen to 'Agape' by Nicolas Britell while reading this chapter it's the Vibe

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popcorn-kitten · 3 years

Text

AITA? i stole my crush's cat (not as bad as it sounds)

Rating: M

Warnings: crass language, unhealthy romanticization, injuries mentioned

Pairing: peter/you, peter/reader

Summary: When Peter had finally approached you, your response wasn't what he'd wanted. And then being snubbed a second time had only fueled the fire to win you over. And to do so he'd have to get a little creative. But but but - it's for love! He knows what he's doing, and it's all for you!

Read on ao3

Pets were important, Peter knew this intimately. John Wick’s response had been more than justified. If anything happened to his beloved Rat there was no telling what his reaction would be. And Peter knew how much your cat meant to you.

He’d often found himself struggling with misplaced jealousy when seeing the creature sleeping peacefully on your chest, unable to let go of the thought that it should be him in that space. He’d watched with envy as your perfect fingers stroked the cat’s fur and melted at the thought of you touching him like that

Peter knew it was silly; who gets jealous of a cat? But he couldn’t always stop the feelings, and his psychiatrist had told him all his feelings were valid, furthering the justification in his mind of what he had to do.

He’d spent the better half of the last few months becoming acquainted with your feline companion (while also looking over you, of course.) And he had to admit, he’d grown rather fond of the fuzzy thing.

Which was a change, as the first few nights Peter had tried to come into your room was borderline disastrous. The cat hissed loudly when Peter had finally slipped through your window, causing him to lose his grip and fall backward, landing hard on the ground, ass first.

Peter had been terrified it had awoken you and cautiously he peeked up. Delight filled him to see you’d merely turned in your sleep. God, you looked amazing even when just lying still and breathing. Peter had been pulled out of his stupefied staring by a deep growl coming from below the window sill on your side.

He hadn’t thought to prepare for the pet and cursed himself for the stupidity. If he was going to show you the two of you were meant to be then he had to be more thoughtful. More precise in each move he made.

Slowly Peter held his hand out to the beast for it to sniff him. The cat was still heckled and guarded as it did so, Peter screwed his eyes shut internally prepared for a bite or claws but had been pleasantly surprised when none came. He slowly opened one eye and found the cat had not only found him to not be a threat, but boring as it had trotted off and out of the room entirely.

After that first night, Peter came prepared. He’d spent a little time searching the house for the cat treats. He peered at the options trying to memorize some to bring in the future but was shocked again when something brushed against his leg. Peter bit down on his tongue to keep from yelping and looked down. Wide-eyed he saw your cat rubbing against his leg, purring, and staring intently at the treat shelf Peter had been inspecting.

Peter grinned as he took the hint and opened one of the bags, your cat mewed at him and looped between his ankles a few times. Peter smiled at the small creature and pulled out a handful of the treats. Kneeling, Peter allowed the cat to eat directly from his hand, as it purred. Peter’s heart melted at the feeling of the rough tongue against his palm. He’d never been licked by a cat before.

Peter knew that the transition of you living with him would be easier with your pet and that you’d trust him more if your cat already loved him.

And thus, every night, Peter would be sure to bring treats to keep your cat occupied and work towards ingratiating himself to it. Some nights, while holding you in your deep sleep, the cat would curl up with you both. Peter smiled at the domesticity of it and imagined this is what your lives would be like soon. Peaceful, full of love and closeness…

But things hadn’t gone the way he’d wanted them to with meeting you. You’d been repulsed by him. It hurt.

But but but-

He knew better than to give up. He was made for you. You were made for him. You needed him. He just had to help you see that.

And so, a scheme was hatched.

Your cat was easy enough to catch. It’d learned to trust him and had no issue with him picking it up. However, problems arose once the carrier was brought into the picture. The once docile animal hissed like it had the first time Peter had come by, but this time the sound was accompanied by claws, teeth, and a spine that could twist in any direction.

Peter flinched each time the cat’s defenses broke his skin but he had to keep a straight face, he had to keep going. He had to do this. For both of you.

It was by pure fluke he managed to wrangle the animal into the plastic carrier. A sigh of relief left him as the cat continued to hiss and bat at the side of its containment.

“You’ll be out soon, don’t be so scared,” Peter muttered, trying to keep his tone reassuring.

Peter slipped several treats into the slats, hoping to calm the furry thing. He was disappointed to see there was no change in the cat’s demeanor.

The next obstacle came with where to keep the cat. He knew he had to bring it to his place and try to figure out a room to put it in that it couldn’t escape. He’d have to try not to leave it alone for too long. But he also couldn’t miss out on time watching you. He was already putting you in too much danger with having to drive home and back. Peter grumbled to himself while internally trying to figure out a schedule that would work.

The thought of you being alone without him to watch out for and protect you was almost enough to make him change his mind. But the memory of your face scrunched with confusion and and and- no, he wouldn’t think about it. After this, your eyes would always be filled with love for him.

That was the thought he had to cling to as he drove for 3 hours, your cat yowling and making all manner of terrifying noises the whole trip. It didn’t help that he had to make a pitstop to get all the materials needed for the cat.

A litter box, identical to the one you owned. Food and dishes, the same brand of wet and dry. The store didn’t have your cute plates, so generic ones would have to do. A couple of toys to keep the thing occupied, and one bag of litter for the next week.

Upon his arrival home, Peter was quick to get your whimpering cat inside and hopefully quieted down. He’d hurriedly cleaned out some of the items in his recording room so the cat couldn’t ruin it. He’d seen the way it chewed your cords in the middle of the night.

Once satisfied he ran back out to his van, collecting and bringing all the needed items back into the house. He closed the door of the room and opened the carrier while hastily setting up all the things he’d bought.

Satisfied he turned and was surprised to see the cat still in the carrier, pressed as far against the back as it could be. Peter tsk’d and put a hand in to try and coax it out, only to be bit once again.

Peter shouted and pulled his now bleeding hand out, glaring at the carrier. He stuck the bleeding finger into his mouth. It wouldn’t be helpful to return your cat in bad health. Or for it to be completely traumatized and hating him. It would unravel the whole point of this!

Peter slipped out of the room so he could think clearer. His eyes scanned the area and fell on the door leading to The Shrine. Peter pulled his finger out of his mouth only to bite his cheek and he mulled it over. Yes, taking some of your things off The Shrine and putting them in the other room would help your cat. BUT that also meant things from The Shrine smelling like your cat instead of you.

He closed his eyes and imagined your face upon him bringing back your beloved animal after a week of worrying and how thankful you’d be. What you’d owe him. He’d wave you off of course ‘no-no, really I’m just glad it’s safe now.’ He smiled to himself thinking of how impressed you’d be with him. How awe-struck you'd be with how comfortable your cat was with him.

Peter huffed a final time before deciding to grab ONE shirt from The Shrine for your cat, but that was it!

The choice of which shirt, however, was harder than he’d thought it’d be. Each one smelled like you. Each one had looked so damn cute on you! Each one was special and parting was nearly impossible. Almost as impossible as ignoring the hard-on he’d achieved while sniffing your clothes again.

He couldn’t help it though.

You’d understand.

You were irresistible.

Peter let a hand trail down his chest, eyes closed, imagining it was your fingers. You were rewarding him. He’d been so good, so amazing to return your cat to you. So sweet to demand nothing in return. So...

Peter hissed as his watch alarm blared, bringing him from his fantasy and reminding him he had to leave now if he wanted to walk you home…from a distance.

Peter cursed quietly at the situation and grabbed a shirt at random, trying hard not to think about it as he quickly tossed the fabric into the room with your cat. He’d have to check on it later, he was already running late.

The next few days for you and him were agony.

Peter watched from afar, heartbroken, as you desperately searched for your cat. The first night had been the hardest. He’d arrived just in time to watch you enter your room. He smiled as you went about your usual evening post-shift. You’d come in, remove your clothes (Peter would watch with rapt attention), grab a clean set and a towel before going for a shower.

This was normally the time Peter would let himself in if he was feeling bold, but tonight he knew it wouldn’t be smart. You’d want to look in the closet after all, once you realize your beloved pet was missing.

And notice you did. Peter watched from his spot as you wandered in and out of the room, a confused look on your face (God even that was adorable). You looked under your bed, the closet – as he’d suspected, through your laundry pile, and then to the rest of your apartment. Peter stayed still and listened to your footsteps as much as he could.

But the sound was lost once you started calling out for your cat, shaking the treat bag that usually summoned them. Peter heard the worry in your voice as your calls got more frantic. He slunk along the wall and under your good for nothing roommate’s window to see if he could hear anything else. He was lucky enough to be graced with your voice asking Lucy if she’d seen your pet.

Peter flinched as he heard your worried voice explaining that you couldn’t find them. It was hard to hear you so panicked, but he knew it would be worth it in the end.

But then that whore bitch offered to go out looking with you. Peter growled and clenched his jaw in anger. He hadn’t thought of that. Of that useless drug-addled cunt getting to stay close to you, console you in the middle of the night. That should be HIM.

But but but-

He had to be patient. He knew what he was doing. You were made for him. He was made for you. You would be his.

So, Peter watched. He watched as you and Lucy searched the surrounding area and held himself back from slitting her throat when she put an arm around your shoulder as you cried. He grounded himself in that sound. In your pain that he would be ending soon. He reveled with the knowledge that as soon as you were together, he’d never have to hear you cry like that again.

Once you were finally home it took you ages to fall asleep. Peter seized his chance and curled himself around you. His hand caressed your still damp cheek where he placed a chaste kiss.

“Don’t worry, darling. Everything is going to be alright.” He whispered, burying his face in your hair and inhaling the scent deeply. Time together was short however and Peter slipped out your window before your alarm startled you awake.

Peter again watched. He saw your disgusting coworker hug you as you explained your situation. Peter growled but didn’t move. Soon though, you’d be the one wrapping your arms around him…

Peter watched you spend your break creating a flier to start hanging up during your break. He was impressed by how nicely you made it look! You were so creative! So good with your hands!

Hours later Peter followed as you went into the local Kinkos. After half an hour you came out with a stack of papers and a staple gun.

Peter scowled slightly, that was a lot of extra money for you to spend. He’d make sure to leave some extra money around for you to ‘find’ next time you did laundry as a way to make it up for you…

And so, the week went on.

You handed out and hung up all the fliers you’d been able to afford. TK and Lucy had been nice enough to help spread your social media posts, and even your grumpy landlord allowed you to hang up 1 (one) flier on the building’s main entrance. You’d passed out other fliers to the tenants individually too, just to be sure.

If your job had been hard before it was worse now. Your every waking thought was of your missing pet. They weren’t an outdoor cat and you couldn’t imagine how it’d be surviving. It was a little stupid and you doubted it’d be able to hold its own in a hunt let alone a fight.

God what if your cat got into an alleyway brawl? They’d be torn to pieces!

What if they’d eaten some bad plants? What if they were sick??

What if someone took them? And they would never return it to you because they’d fallen in love with it?!!

A million scenarios ran through your head, each worse than the last. You were going crazy and couldn’t focus on anything but looking for your cat. Every time your phone rang you would answer instantly hoping for good news but were continually let down.

Until the call you’d been waiting for finally came. You’d answered the phone quickly as had become your new habit and breathed a short acknowledgement to the person on the other end of the line.

The caller’s voice was shaky and hesitant, taking a moment after your greeting to speak. “H-hi, hi sorry is this uh…is this Y/N?”

The voice was deep and somewhat familiar. You frown thinking this may be someone’s number you didn’t have saved instead of news about your pet.

“I’ve seen your posters around for your missing cat?”

You instantly perk up, waiting for them to continue. The person pauses and the length of the silence almost kills you. Your response is still hopeful as you prompt them to continue with a, “Yes? You found them?”

A chuckle comes from the other end and something about it sends a shiver down your spine. “I think so, at least it looks like the picture…I was in the park when I grabbed it.” The initial hesitancy in their voice seems to dissipate more with each word. Confidence takes over in their tone. “I’m here with your cat now. Can we meet in the parking lot?”

“Yes!” You shout your response. You’d already jumped up from your spot and were quickly putting on your shoes while grabbing your wallet and keys. You were so lucky you weren't working right now! “I’m on my way! I’ll be there in five minutes! Thank you! Thank you so much!” You hang up and burst into a full-on sprint towards the park.

You cross into the parking lot and whip your head around, looking for any sign of who may have your cat. You hear a ‘Hey!’ from your left and turn quickly towards a waving figure.

A very familiar waving figure.

Another shiver ran down your spine; your emotions were in a flurry at the moment. You could see in his arms was your cat. You were relieved, excited, weepy. And yet there was a tug of apprehension as well as fear at recognizing the face of your cat’s savior.

The guy from the bench! From the flower shop! The weirdo who said he was your boyfriend before he actually asked you out.

You’re face to face before you’ve figured out your strategy and choose to focus on the matter at hand; your cat.

Your shoulders relaxed as you laid eyes on what was for sure your missing pet. They’re comfortably curled in the man’s arms and look remarkably relaxed. This is a shock as your cat, while never mean, had not cuddled with anyone but yourself...ever!

Your eyes finally meet, and he smiles at you. He’s blushing as he looks at you, and you can’t help but find it kind of cute in a weird way. You’d been put off the last time he had approached you, but there was something different now. Maybe it was how comfortable your cat looked with him, or how soft his eyes were as he stared at you.

“Oh, it’s you! I’m happy to see you again!” He beams at you for a moment before looking down at the furry bundle in his arms. “Sorry you had to worry about your cat but they seem fine!” He’s cheerful as he says this and readily hands your cat over.

You scoop your cat into your arms quickly; the small thing meows loudly and stands unsteadily on your arms to lick your face. You clutch it tightly to you, sniffling as tears started welling in your eyes. You were so happy they were ok! They seemed to be ok at least.

It was hard to pull them away but you had to do a quick once over. There were no visible marks or cuts, no matted fur, but some dirt and leaf remnants. You quickly brushed those off and went back to burying your face in the soft familiar fur while your cat continued to lick you.

It’d only been a week since your cat had gone missing but the time spent on it, the money, and the energy made it feel like it’d been months. Your cat purred loudly and pawed at you for your undivided attention.

Which is hard to deny, you pet your cat fervently while leaving kisses on its soft little head. You quietly cooed to them as they rubbed their face against you, marking you with their scent. Your tears have stopped and you can’t stop smiling, no matter how badly your cheeks hurt from it.

You don’t look up to see the man’s face. You don’t see the expression of pure adoration, the intensity with which he watches you. His cheeks flush as he imagines pulling you against him to wipe away your tears. To bring his damp fingers to his lips. To sample you at your most vulnerable. Would the tears of joy have a different taste than your tears of sorrow?

Peter had to take a deep breath to steady himself. He was losing focus and losing that could mean losing you.

When you looked up his expression had melted back into a casual smile. You thank him profusely and hold your cat with one arm while reaching for your wallet with your other hand.

His brow furrows as he watches you try to balance your cat and dig in your pockets. “What are you doing?” He asks.

You don’t look up as you respond, “Well, there was a reward and you brought them home so I have to re-”

“No, you don’t!” He all but shouts. You look up in surprise and see his face flush again as he quiets his voice. “What I mean is, you know, what kind of person would I be expecting a reward for doing the right thing?” His words trail off and he looks away as though expecting to be reprimanded.

“O-oh” Now you’re the one blushing. You’d been caught off guard with such an unexpected and intense response. You clear your throat and try to tame your warm face before muttering out, “Well, I mean I have to do something to thank you.” You insist. Your cat continues purring as you bury your fingers in their fur, suddenly feeling nervous about the response you’d get.

The tall stranger hums and closes his eyes, fingers to his chin as though in thought. “Hmm…if you really want to you could…let me take you out to lunch?” His cocky tone returns but a moment later his eyes shoot open and he lifts his hands as though to show he’s got nothing up his sleeves.

“N-not as a date or anything! But as uh…friends?” His tone’s shy again and you can’t help but find it a little endearing seeing him become so flustered. And over you of all people. His hands drop and his face looks a little defeated as he mumbles out; “I-I really do like you and I want to get to know you, but I…I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

You can’t help but smile and glance up at him, your cat is making biscuits against your arm. “I don’t think letting you buy me food counts as a reward…so how about I treat you to coffee sometime?”

Your counteroffer is met with a slack-jawed face for a moment. His lips quickly turn into a wide grin however as your words seem to sink into him. “Yes! Er I mean, yeah, yeah tha-that could work.” His hand rubs the back of his neck as he looks away from you, face burning red.

You chuckle and feel yourself relax more. Maybe your initial nervousness about him was wrong. You take a step closer to get him to look at you again, it only takes a second before he’s at full attention.

“My schedule gets a little crazy. You have my number now so text me aaaand…we’ll figure something out?" Your voice takes on an uncharacteristically flirty tone and it’s rewarded with his blush spreading to his ears and neck.

He nods once and opens his mouth, as if to speak, but closes it and nods a second time. “I would like that.” He whispered, smiling dumbly.

You grin and nod, “It’s a date then.” You don’t wait for him to say anything as you turn to go. You’d been purposeful in your wording and hoped that any ill feelings he may have developed from your coldness when you’d first met had been lost.

But right now, you need to get your cat home, cleaned up, and in for a vet check ASAP. You began walking towards your place but stopped to shoot another smile at the tall stranger who waves as you walk out of eyesight.

Peter lets out a relieved sigh, a dopey smile on his face as he waits another few seconds before following behind his future spouse. He couldn’t wait to let you take him out.

#stack of fuck shit #your boyfriend #your boyfriend game

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luciehercndale · 3 years

Text

Why did Will want to save Lucie at the end of COI? And what this entitles for their relationship as father and daughter?

At the end of COI, Jessamine went to Will and Tessa to warn them about Lucie’s intentions and stop her from doing things she may regret. But Lucie, along with Jesse and Malcom, had already fled the Institute when Will went to the sanctuary, resulting in his decision to rescue her and getting James and Magnus involved because he doesn’t want the news to spread.

Will tells Magnus that they are going to save Lucie because he believes Malcom kidnapped her. After all, she is only 16, and despite being at the border between still childhood and adulthood (the age of majority at the time), she would likely be regarded as a child from her parents until she leaves home to live on her own, or she gets married to someone. See, James already did this step by leaving the Institute and getting married to Cordelia.

Will is Lucie’s father, and of course he is worried for her. It would be out of character if he wasn’t. Even if Lucie wrote a note in which she said she was going to revive Jesse somewhere with Malcom, willingly (and we also have scenes to prove it), it doesn’t sit right with Will, and for good reasons. As Will points out to Magnus:

Will’s expression darkened. “Like hell,” he said. “He ran off with my daughter. Who is sixteen years old.”

Aside from Lucie being sixteen, Will also fears that Malcom has ill intentions towards his daughter, and he doesn’t waste time in enlisting his son and old friend to go get her. We, as readers, know that Lucie decided to leave for Cornwall with Malcom willingly, and Magnus also tells that to Will. He probably took them away at the end because of what she had achieved in the sanctuary, so that nobody would find out. Malcom shouldn’t have bad intentions here; he still needs Lucie’s help to call for Annabel’s ghost and he needs her to be fine to do it.

I don’t think it was casual that Jesse was revived right before Malcom, Lucie and Grace would have to leave. The reader already knows that Grace isn’t coming, so to avoid Lucie going with Malcom alone, Jesse was resuscitated at this point to protect Lucie’s interest, which is something important. He already tried to do it while he was a ghost, but that we know he couldn’t have done it anymore because he had faded. Now it’s his chance to look after her and to avoid that Malcom does something to her while she’s unconscious. Again, I don’t believe something bad happened here, because it seems like Malcom and Magnus don’t have a bad relationship in TDA. It’s over 100 years later, yeah, but Malcom wouldn’t have been High Warlock of Los Angeles if he had done something in TLH. I guess.

Will still sees Lucie as a child, but she is on the path to growing up, to becoming adult. He feels like it’s his duty as a father to save his daughter from someone he thinks might harm her, or that she may do something illegal like necromancy. He feels the need to protect her. She also behaved like a younger girl during COG, but we know that she is becoming secretive with time and her bubbly and optimistic mask is also cracking. Tessa also points this out:

“On the other hand,” said Tessa, “she certainly concealed the fact of her friendship with Jesse’s ghost all this time. She’s entering a rather secretive age, I think.”

They are not against Lucie befriending ghosts, nor they are surprised. What seems to shock Will the most about Lucie is what she did to Gast’s ghost that Jessamine witnessed firsthand:

“That doesn’t sound like Lucie,” Will said, but a terrible prickly feeling was coming over him. He wanted to believe Jessamine was mistaken, or even lying, but what reason would she have?

The Lucie Will and Tessa know wouldn’t do that, according to them, to the Lucie she’s been all of those years. She wouldn’t be too secretive, either, because she hardly conceals her feelings in their opinion, which is untrue. Most of Lucie’s feelings are private, and what she shows the world is only the surface. And it’s not weird that the person who caught her heart was someone she could not tell anyone about. Some secret that was only hers, that she didn’t trust anyone with in order to protect the person she loved. But also, because everyone seems to overlook Lucie, so she found no point in telling anyone and sharing the burden. Not that anybody asked how she felt.

The point of this plot with Will, James and Magnus going after Lucie to rescue her, is to show that she has grown up and she is consciously making her decisions, however questionable they are. Because bringing your boyfriend back from the dead is also a questionable choice, if you think about it.

Lucie is not a child anymore, although Will may still think that she is. She doesn’t need rescuing because she knows how to rescue herself and that Jesse is also there as an ally. There are some types of parents like Will who will always consider their kids as if they are forever little until such children, they do something to “sever” the connection. Not in the sense of breaking up with their parents, but of starting a new arc of their life. We all have phases in our lives, and they are not fixed. When we, for example, leave our family’s home to live on our own (or with someone) or I don’t know, we get married or have a child, or any other act that starts a new life cycle for us, we are reborn again. It’s like a new start.

So, I think that might be the case here.

Lucie did the first rebellious thing of her life (CC said in an ask that it was James, usually, the one who was more rebellious) and made her parents worry. And in Will’s mind, I can see it. As a father, he is protective of her. This is why he thinks she needs rescuing. Not because he believes Lucie incapable of returning to London by herself, to save herself. But because he still thinks Lucie as his small little child he needs to protect. Magnus realized it too, and I believe that during the trip to Cornwall, he may enlighten Will about this more, because the only thing in his mind at the moment is to reach Lucie asap, and take her back to the comfortable protection of the Institute/home.

“I would urge you not to think of it in those terms,” said Magnus. “Malcolm didn’t kidnap Lucie. According to her note, it’s her goal to help Jesse. That’s what they both think they’re doing.” He sighed. “Malcolm has something of a focus on the Blackthorns.”

Will looked intrigued. “There is more to this story, and I will get it out of both of you before we reach Cornwall.”

We understand that Magnus already thinks that Lucie might not, surely, need rescuing. And he tells James, who seems more reasonable than his father, that his sister might not want to be helped.

“You cannot save people who do not want to be saved,” said Magnus. “You can only stand by their side and hope that when they wake and realize they need saving, you will be there to help them.” He paused. “It’s something to keep in mind as we go to help your sister.”

This may also hint that Will’s relationship with Lucie may change a little in COT, and that he will have to let her go. That he will have to trust her because she has matured and she can make her own decisions.

#tsc #tlh #lucie herondale #will herondale #chain of iron spoilers #coi spoilers #blackdale #jesse blackthorn #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of gold #chain of iron #tweety.writes analysis #Tweety.txt

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amiramorozova · 3 years

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Dual Summoner and the Darkling pt. 12

We spent some time there as we talked a bit about his past and when it was soon later we went over to the horses getting back on. I felt like I knew him a bit better and I was glad that it didn't seem to change his intentions. Still, I felt like there was still more. Being alone with him was the only time he made a move toward me showing his intentions of what he wanted.

"Have you enjoyed getting out of the little palace?" Aleksander said

"I feel like I can breathe." I said "thank you"

"You and I are going to change the world, but earning your trust comes first." Aleksander said

I just looked at him as he said that as he was always making sure that I had these moments alone with him. When we got back to the little palace Baghra was right there seeing us. She seemed to be scanning my attire to see my new kefta. Aleksander got down and walked over as he helped me down. No one else was there as he put his arm around me once I was on my feet and Baghra just glared a bit.

"She's supposed to train everyday." Baghra said

"If you train her everyday she will wear out. Have some respect mother, she deserves a break." Aleksander said

Baghra looked at him when he said that and then she looked at me as she realized he told me the truth. I wasn't mad at her but I knew that everyone had their secrets, I did for nine years and he didn't get mad at me for it. He removed his hand from around me and then he took my hand as he kissed the top of it. I blushed at the movement cause I have never seen him do that before with anyone else.

"Go on, train with Baghra." Aleksander said

"I'll do it. I'll go before the royals tomorrow." I said looking at him

"I will arrange it then and then we leave the next day." Aleksander said then looked at Baghra "take care of our dual summoner, mother."

He let me go and walked away as he went back to his usual attire and Baghra led me away from where people could see me as people came for the horses. I walked behind her quietly until we entered the room and I knew that there was nothing she could do. Only she did as she hit me with her cane as if I had fallen under some trance.

"You were to stay away from him." Baghra said

"I tried!" I said, "a little hard when I am in the same wing as he is!"

"He has his sights on you, has he turned you into his pet yet?" Baghra asked a bit bitterly

"I will never be anyone's pet!" I said as I clenched my fist and then I sighed as I knew this arguing was not good for either of us and I turned from her. "You could have told me you were his mother. I'll be careful Baghra, I know that he might be lying." I said calmly

"I worry about what he has planned for you. What has he done so far towards you?" Baghra asked

"Just made moves to kiss me, he doesn't really seem to have that much interest in my power." I said

"He has finally found two things he has searched for." Baghra said "A sun summoner and an eternal one."

I gasped at her words and turned to look at her when she finally said it knowing there was no doubt I had questioned it. Baghra didn't say much more but she started my training working with a performance for the king and Queen. Since we had no more secrets and I knew she was a darkling she used her own darkling powers to train me with the light. A mere test of what I could possibly do to the fold. Still, when dinner came I just had to sneak out to make sure no one saw me and get to Genya or so I thought. I made it past the dining hall and about to sneak up to the wing when Ivan a heartrender stopped me in my tracks.

"Amira Silina." Ivan said

"uh yes?" I asked

"Follow me." Ivan said

I looked at him curiously wondering what was going on and I followed this heartrender going with him. He led me to the wing of my room but instead of going into my room he led me to the darklings chamber again. Alarms were going off in my head that he might want something more than I thought but I tried not to overthink it. Ivan opened the door and when I walked in this time the curtains were open again as light was in the room making it not so bad as the door closed behind me.

"Ge- ..Aleksander?" I asked

Aleksander came out and he saw I was confused on what was going on as he led me to another part of the room. Seeing this part also had curtains open I was taking in the view when we came to the table he was leading me to. I saw it had two meals and drinks on it so I knew immediately he planned for us to have dinner.

He never had dinner with the other grisha. I thought

"Sit Amira." Aleksander said

I walked over with him and he pulled my chair out for me as I took the seat, still questioning his intentions. I could never read him and it was that part that worried me the most but still it was a nice dinner. It was very clear he was trying to earn my affections towards him and I couldn't get Baghra's words about another eternal one.

"Did you have a good lesson with Baghra?" Aleksander asked

"I did." I said

"That's good." Aleksander said as he thought about things "I have been thinking about the sleeping arrangement for when we go north and you'll be staying in my tent where I know you'll be safe."

I was having some of my drink and his words shocked me that I had to put it down coughing a bit. Sharing a tent together was next-level stuff but at the same time, I still could understand the motive of my protection was key in this whole situation. So I just nodded after I cleared my throat of the drink.

"Well you are the general, Aleksander." I said

"So you trust my choices?" Aleksander asked

"..yes." I said hesitantly

I tried keeping my guard around him most of the time as there was a sense of truth here and some trust but there was so much more going on. After dinner was done, Ivan came in and cleared the table and he walked me out of the room to my room in a short distance.

"Good night Amira." Aleksander said

"Good night Aleksander." I said

I went to open my door but I knew all he'd done was make moves to try to win me over and I had been somewhat receptive to his advances. I quickly turned around and kissed his cheek to show that some of his advances were working as I walked into my room and closed the door. I knew tomorrow everyone would see my new kefta.

get this over and then we can leave the next day or maybe in the middle of the night. I thought

I could only imagine Zoya's face as I put a finger on my lips from where he had kissed me by the fountain. I knew if he kept doing this I wasn't going to be able to resist him much longer as I took the kefta off and put it where Genya could help me get into it tomorrow. I prepared for bed and then laid down and went to sleep.

tomorrow will work out somehow. I thought

I slept with a peaceful smile on my face as I hugged the pillow and then when the doors opened I saw Genya with her group of assistance as I got up. I figured it would all work out but they were insisting on a bath before anything. So I went along with it and I told them to let me handle it as I looked at Genya.

"I think I can manage Genya, they can go." I said

Genya got my hint and clapped her fingers "everyone out." She said

Watching as they left I was quick to clean up except two people stayed and put me in a robe before they headed out. I didn't really have much to say about it as I walked over and sat at the table. Genya was in her bag as she worked her tailor magic on me for a bit to make me look presentable. When she stopped she looked at me a bit and noticed something different it seemed.

"You look happy." Genya said

"I am, I'm getting tired of resisting and he's letting me go with him to the north soon." I said

Genya put a hand on my cheek and smiled "I like seeing you this way but keep my warning in mind. Be careful of powerful men." Genya said as she started to get me ready for the King and Queen to see.

Since I was part of the 2nd army I could wear my black kefta as we walked down and she styled my hair a bit. We kept walking until we made it to the part of the little palace that had a walk between the little palace and the grand palace. I became worried about this until I felt someone take my hand and when I looked I saw it was Aleksander.

"You look lovely." Aleksander said "ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." I said

He let my hand go as we walked to the grand palace and I knew once we entered my whole secret would be seen by the king. Aleksander didn't seem too worried about it as we made our way in and he led as we went to the throne room. I started to hear people behind us and I figured it was members of the 2nd army.

"General Kirigan, I see you brought your surprise summoner as promised." The King said

"Yes, this is Amira Silina. A dual summoner, your highness." Aleksander said

"She can tear down the fold?" The king asked

"With some more training." Aleksander said as he kept looking forward "and she will demonstrate the light now."

I questioned his intentions on how I was going to summon the light when suddenly I saw him raise his hand and shadows came around the room. He moved to where he was in front of me and I knew it from my senses. He got close to me and I could feel his smirk on his lips "call the light Amira." He whispered

I put my hands together concentrating and without touching him I sent the light up in the air and expanded it as it evaporates what little shadows he brought in there. It surrounded us for a while and I merely just looked at him knowing this was it. I could go anywhere now that I had the audience with the king.

"Impressive, how long will she need?" The King asked

"Baghra is tending to her training, she's had a few years of training but Baghra said her levels are not enough yet. She will continue her training with me undisturbed." Aleksander said

"Get it done, when we can unite all of Ravka the better we stand against enemies." The King said

"Yes, Moi Tsaritsa." Aleksander said

Aleksander put his hand on my back and turned us around as all the 2nd army got to see me in person now. Their looks of shock were something I could get used to as I was in the darkling's color. Some of my fellow Grisha of the 2nd army hugged me though seeing a bright future I suppose with my existence. Zoya was the only one who didn't approach me and I didn't mind that as Aleksander then led me off away from everyone else.

the look on her face when she saw him close and seeing me in his color. Genya was right, it is worth it to wear black. I thought

#general kirigan #aleksander morovoza #darkling x reader #team darkling #darkling #the darkling #fanfic #shadow and bone

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