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nestasgalpal · 3 years

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Walk me through it [Nessian fic]

Fixing ACOSF part 5

Masterlist | AO3

Summary: Cassian accompanies Nesta to the cottage in the Mortal Lands where she and her sisters used to live, so she can get closure.

Tagging: @gwynriel @rhaenystargaryn @clolikescloquetas @amelievrstr @t8astr8ng @wanderlustlastsforever @saltydreamcollector @lordlorcan @esrahiba @queenestarcheron @ko0mbayamylord @jemstan300 @nessiantrashh @mothergwyn @poisonus-bloom @loveadora @frosted-crackers @mireillemystique @pataytayo @968sunflower968 @caram267 @jainadurron @darkshadowqueensrule @amphiptree @finae-bookshelf @niytavia @brainlessfruit @dontgetsalmonella @messyhairday-me @sunsummoner @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @wannawriteyouabook @psychoticminx @misswonderflower

N/A: Sorry I erased the comment about Feyre painting the cabin in Illyria but I didn’t get what that had to do with anything lol.

Nesta’s heart thundered as she laid a hand against the cold wooden door. Claw marks still gouged it.

“Tamlin’s handiwork, I take it?” Cassian asked behind her.

Nesta shrugged, unable to find the words. She and Elain had rehung the door after Tamlin had broken it. Their father, his leg wrecked beyond repair and unable to bear weight, had watched them, offering unhelpful advice.

Her fingers curled into a fist and she shouldered the door open. Its rusted hinges objected, creaking, and a dusty, half-rotten scent swarmed her nose. Her cheeks heated. For Cassian to be here, to see this—

“Just a brute, remember?” He stepped to her side. “I’ve lived in far worse. At least you had walls and a roof.”

Nesta hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words, and her shoulders loosened as she stepped into the cottage proper. In the chill dimness, broken only by rays of sunlight, she frowned at the ceiling. “This house used to have a roof.” The damage had let in all manner of creatures and weather—the former had made themselves comfortable, judging by the nests and various scattered droppings.

Nesta’s mouth turned dry. This horrible, awful, dark place.

She couldn’t stop her shaking.

Cassian laid a hand on her shoulder. “Walk me through it.”

She couldn’t. Couldn’t find the words.

He pointed to a long worktable. One leg had collapsed, and the whole thing lay at a slant. “You ate here?”

She nodded. They’d eaten here, some meals in silence, some with her and Elain trying to fill the quiet with their idle chatter, some with her and Feyre at each other’s throats. Like those last meals they’d had with her in this house.

Nesta’s stare drifted to the paint flaking off the walls. The intricate little designs. Cassian followed her stare. “Did Feyre paint that?”

Nesta swallowed, and managed to get out, “She painted every chance she got. Any extra coin she managed to save went toward paints.”

Except for that one time she saved enough to get flower seeds for Elain.

Her two sisters had somehow found a way of keeping themselves entertained. Feyre spend every minute she could out of the house. She had to go hunting for food, but even in the summer and the spring, when they had plenty, she made excuses to be away from them. Isaac Hale had been there to help her get distracted, but Nesta knew Feyre didn’t find time for him just for the sex. Feyre had wanted to be far from them, sitting in the meadows, practicing knots or whatever she did when she went away.

She only stayed in the cabin when she had paint. She had found happiness in that —and so had Elain in her little garden.

As much happiness as they could, in a place like this.

But Nesta never did. She had never wanted to.

She had barely wanted to survive.

As if he had felt the air around her shift, Cassian took a step closer, his chest close enough to her back that Nesta could feel the heat he irradiated in the bare skin of her nape. He was there for her, to be a pillar she could lean against if she needed to —to support her.

A calloused hand brushed against hers, the touch so soft and careful, Nesta almost didn’t feel it. He gave her hand a tug, but Nesta didn’t take it. Not yet. Only when she really needed his touch to bear what they were doing in this place, she would take his hand. She would try to do this on her own first.

Cassian aimed for the bedroom. Nesta followed him, and gods, it was so cramped and dark and smelly. The bed was still covered with its stained linens. The three of them had slept here for years.

Cassian ran a hand over the painted dresser, marveling. “Feyre really did paint stars for herself before she knew Rhys was her mate. Before she knew he existed.” His fingers traced the twining vines of flowers on the second drawer. “Elain’s drawer.” They drifted lower, curling over a lick of flame. “And yours.”

Nesta managed a grunt of confirmation, her chest tight to the point of pain. There in the corner sat a pair of worn, half-rotted shoes. Her shoes. One of them was bursting at the toe’s seam. She’d worn those shoes —in public. Could still remember mud and stones creeping in.

She had asked for new ones, and that had leaded them into an argument too. Feyre didn’t understand the shame Nesta felt when she walked around wearing that in her feet —as far as she knew, Feyre didn’t even remember what their life used to be like before that village; she had known nothing else. But Nesta had, and even while they starved, she still refused to let go of the life she had once enjoyed. The silks, the pearls, the luxuries she had been surrounded by when growing up. She hadn't been raised but rather crafted by her mother and tutors to belong in palaces and great halls. No, she had been forged to thrive among dozens of other rich heiresses who shared her same goal. She had become that. And then, her world crumpled down to become this.

There were wholes in the lower parts of the rotten wood panels big enough for a small rodent to get inside the house that hadn't been there while her family inhabited the space. Nesta felt sick in her stomach, just as she had when she came inside the cabin for the first time and realized it was likely to be the place where she died. No castle and no prince awaited in her future.

She had never found a way to explain to Feyre what it was like for her. Nesta was quick with words, fast coming up with the perfect answer to make everyone wary of her, make them stay away. But when it came to opening up and risking showing vulnerability, she realized, she had never learned how to do it.

She could only hide. She could only hurt.

And Feyre never made it easy either. It was so hard for Nesta to talk to her —to anyone, but specially to her little sister. Whenever they clashed against each other, she felt judged by someone who didn't even know her. Every time, Nesta let pride win and burn bridges between them, instead of trying to explain herself to a person who wouldn't even wait and listen before she decided Nesta was too much of a brat to deserve the benefit of the doubt. Feyre never considered that there might have been a reason for her to feel and act the way she did, even if it was not the right path. Because Feyre couldn't come up with any, and fooled by her own pride, thinking herself smarter because she was able to function and Nesta was not, she concluded that there wasn't a reason in the world for Nesta to just let time consume her instead of stepping in.

She hated that, and resented Feyre for years. Because they were the same. Two side of the same coin battling to stay on top once it fell to the ground. For years, Nesta felt like the only way to win, was to make sure Feyre lost.

Every day, it grew bigger —her resentment towards her. For being able to overcome difficulties she could not. Towards their father, who saw his daughters fight one another and starve and didn't get up from his chair once to try... anything. And resentment towards herself. She got carried away by it, every emotion she felt mixing together and forming a ball of anger in her guts that burned so violently that Nesta could no longer tell what was going on.

She saw red all the time, and burned with it. Burned anyone that dared come close.

Lost in her memories of how fighting had been more abundant than food, Nesta almost forgot Cassian was there too. Her eyes had gotten caught up on the torn shoes. They were such a perfect example of how her life used to be —how they had so little, that every single thing could become the reason for a night's worth of arguing... Nesta told him the story.

"Deep down I knew that saving the money was more important, that those boots could last a few more weeks. That would give Feyre time to get more money. But I pushed the logic down and picked the fight regardless" She had hated that those shoes had been a working pair to their new family standards when not so long ago only the finest leather slippers touched her feet.

Nesta looked around the room, to the bed she and her sisters had shared. “That bed in there … I was born in that bed. My mother died in that bed.”

Her mother’s death. She remembered that as well. Too vividly still.

"My father refused to send men into fae territory looking for a cure for her". And just like him, Nesta had refused to help when they lived in the cottage. Had refused to do what she thought was a servant’s work, thinking that death was better than the shame of loosing her status. "I hated him for that."

She had been so mad at him for not even trying, that she thought she ought to do the same thing. If their father didn’t do anything, she would do even less. To her, Feyre had been only collateral damage. She was willing to sacrifice her little sister’s safety for her own. That’s what she had seen others do with her before. It had been so wrong —but Nesta hadn’t realized it until it was too late for all of them.

She hated her younger self, now that there was nothing for her to do. Now that her sisters no longer needed her to step in.

She hated that she had been so wrong, so blind.

She hated that she failed at being smarter than the adults in her life.

She hated how much time and effort she had put into hating her father and not caring about Feyre only for them to be the ones saving her in the end. How was she supposed to find peace, when she had spend years being consumed by the anger his passivity ignited in her, only for him to finally be there to help when she needed him the most? How did everyone expect her to be able to deal with that when she had failed miserably at simpler tasks?

Nesta wanted to forgive her father. To forgive him and be hugged by him. Nesta wanted to finally have by her side the father she had so desperately needed her entire life.

But when he came to her and proved that his love was true and knew no limits —that he only needed a second chance, he was killed before her eyes. How could she forgive him now, when he had died before she got a chance to let him know that she understood. That she had done the same thing to others, and she understood. She knew. And she was willing to give him the second chance he wanted to do everything again, but this time right.

Her heart thundered, and she walked out of the room, back into the main space. She didn’t mean to, but she looked toward the dark fireplace. Toward the mantel.

Her father’s wood figurines lay atop it, thickly coated with dust and cobwebs. Some had been knocked over, presumably by whatever creatures now lived here.

That familiar roaring filled her ears, and Nesta’s steps thudded too loudly on the dusty floorboards as she approached the fireplace. A carving of a rearing bear —no bigger than her fist —sat in the center. Nesta’s fingers shook as she picked it up and blew off the dust.

“He had some skill,” Cassian said quietly.

“Not enough,” Nesta said, setting the bear back onto the stone mantel. She was going to vomit.

No. She could master this. Master herself. And face what lay before her. Only then she would be able to face what she had left behind —her past.

She inhaled through her nose. Exhaled through her mouth. Counted the breaths.

Cassian stood beside her through all of it. Not speaking, not touching. Just there, should she need him. Her friend —whom she’d asked to come here with her not because he was sharing her bed, but because she wanted him here. His steadiness and kindness and understanding.

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Did he ever make any for you?”

“He knew better than to do that.” She inhaled a shuddering breath, held it, released it. Let her mind calm. “I think he would have, if I’d given him the smallest bit of encouragement, but … I never did. I was too angry.”

She finally voiced it —Why she had behaved like that for so many years. Cassian probably knew already, but she had needed to let it out. She had been angry. She had felt abandoned. She didn’t know what to do to keep floating against the current like her sisters did with her hobbies and new-found friends in the village.

Nesta only felt anger at everyone and everything.

“You’d had your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.”

“That’s not what you told me the first time we met.” She pivoted to find him arching a brow. She could go back and picture that day. He was a giant in her hall, tall even among the rest of the fae Feyre had brought with her. A dormant part of her human conscience, an instinct, reminded her how dangerous his kind was. But she had never felt intimidated. Not by him. Not really.

Just a worthy opponent.

“You told me I was a piece of shit for letting my younger sister go into the woods to hunt while I did nothing.”

“I didn’t say it like that.”

“Yes, you did.”

Cassian’s gaze pierced through her. She squared her shoulders, turning to the small, broken cot in the shadows beyond the fireplace, thinking he wouldn’t reply.

“Can I still take that back?” Cassian was halted where she left him. The space was not big enough for them to be far from each other, but it certainly felt like it. A chill breeze came through a chink in the wall behind her, fluttering the bottom of her cloak and finding there the bare skin of her ankles.

Would you forgive me? He was asking. Or maybe not. Maybe he simply wanted her to pretend his words had never left his lips. Can we pretend it didn’t happen? She only had to turn around and face his burning gaze to know, but she didn’t.

Yes, Nesta wanted to tell him. Please, go back and never open my eyes to make me see what I did to my sister. Don’t let the truth of my actions ever get to me.

Nesta had always been aware of everything surrounding her, always known who she could trust, who was a tool for her to use, what buttons to push to get what she wanted from others.

She had always known, she had always seen.

Now, standing in the space where she spent some of the worst years of her life, a period of time full of hunger, cold, screaming and resentment that still hunted her, Nesta would beg on her knees for a chance to be oblivious for the first time in her life —To not see. To not feel.

“Why would you want to?” She asked instead.

Cassian didn’t come closer. Nesta wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Standing here, in this ramshackle space where she still had to control her breath so she didn’t break down and become a crying mess, Nesta didn’t know if she was actually ready to discuss that.

To come back to face her ghosts was hard enough.

Nesta found a spot in the half rotted wood wall in front of her and locked her eyes there, not blinking, holding the tears that wanted to form in her eyes. She wasn’t ready to remember what had happened shortly after Cassian came into her house asking for her help. Her life was already almost too much for her to handle before Tamlin took Feyre, and that’s what they were trying to get closure for today. Not what had happened next, when the Inner Circle of the Night Court entered her life.

The thought threatened to make her breath erratic again, but Nesta remembered the exercices Gwyn had found for them and kept it under control. She mastered it and reminded herself why were here. Nesta forced herself to breath. Her lungs didn’t cooperate. Her mouth dry. She inhaled slowly and then exhaled the cold air. Once. Twice.

“Because I feel like that first meeting shaped everything else after, and I don't like what it did with it."

"It did nothing." It hadn't been that first encounter what had led her into the mess she was, nor had it anything to do with her choices back when they lived in this cabin that felt smaller and smaller with each of Cassian's words. She didn't want him to make excuses for her, she should have done more, and that was a fact she had already accepted.

"No, I did. I said that to you, and then the rest followed me."

"What does that have to do with this?" she vaguely waved her hands at the surrounding space. The room that had once been her house.

"Everything." he answered "Feyre wanted a peaceful meeting, you know? She wanted to do the talking, and for us to behave, and I couldn't hold my tongue. I fucked up, and only lately I've realized the damage my words actually caused.”

In the quietude of the room, his voice was a thunder. Nesta turned to face him and finally met his eyes, that were screaming for a chance to explain. But explain what? She already knew what she had to make up for, and didn't see what Cassian or the people who accompanied Feyre back to the Mortal Lands had to do with her past.

“I only thought of you as an extension of your sister.” She was curious to know when that had changed for him. She remembered the exact second the illyrian Commander had stopped being just her sister’s friend to her, earning a place of his own in her heart “I heard Feyre’s story, felt her suffering, and forgot you were a person too. You were entitled to your fears and to make mistakes as we all are, and I had no right to call you out there, when I knew close to nothing about you, and who you were. I didn't see that you had been a kid too, and your family's wellbeing wasn't just your responsibility, just as it wasn't Feyre's. I had no right to get involved in that unresolved issue between you, and I feel like when I did... I kind of gave everyone permission to do the same, and feel entitled to an opinion that weights as much as Feyre's and yours do in the matter. If I could go back…”

“You can’t” Nesta cut in. She wouldn’t let him, because if she wasn’t allowed to, then none of them would. It wasn’t fair.

Cassian still didn’t move, his presence painfully obvious. Cassian didn’t miss the shaking of her hands, but said nothing about it. She tried to put some of her usual icy rage in her eyes, but couldn’t. She tried to hide the excruciating pressure in her chest, the ache in her heart, but couldn’t either.

“I know you blame yourself for not being a caretaker and provider for your sisters, Nes” he started again when she didn’t go on “I know you already blamed yourself before we met, and I know I... we only made it worse, pushing you down thinking we were being good friends to Feyre. We actually hurt both of you in the end. I can’t speak for my friends, but I can speak for myself and tell you how sorry I am for not seeing that sooner. For not seeing you. And for making this" he looked rround towards the cot, the dinning table and the room they had just been into "worse than it already was.” The floor creaked under his weight when he took a step towards her, next to the cob. “You were barely older than she was, it wouldn’t have made a difference if it had been you in the woods. The three of you were too young to take that role”.

Then whose was it? His father? That's what she had thought for most of her life, but now... what about his leg? The pain he endured just by walking outside? She was the oldest, she should have done more, and she knew that. She didn't want them —Feyre— to just forgive her and pretend it had never happened. Because if she had done something more back then, then their live would be different now, for better or worse. She didn't want people to pitty her, and to tell her that she was an innocent and blameless soul.

"Why can't you just let me take accountability?"

"To take accountability is good, and I'm glad you are ready to do so, because you have to, in order to move on." He took her face in his hands taking one last step closer, their bodies almost touching “But I think we've let you think everything that happened to your sisters could have been avoided if you had been the one carrying the bow, and that's simply not true.” His thumb brushed over her cheek “What no one told you, Nesta, is that surviving is not only about getting food and water, or even a roof. I would know about that.” He chuckled softly, trying to lighten up the atmosphere around them in the dimness of the room ” Feyre is a great huntress, she didn’t need you carrying the bow and shooting the arrows.” Nesta would have died on her first winter hunting, both of them knew that. “You were needed as an older sister, and that doesn't equal being a provider for your family. She needed your support and care when she came back from a long day looking for food. A family.”

Enough tears to make a new sea had been shed by both her and Feyre in her art studio not so long ago. Feyre had asked for that exaclty: an older sister who had her back. And Nesta had promised she would try.

Nesta didn’t really know how to use or control her powers, and Feyre had surrounded herself with fae strong enough to never need Nesta to save her again.

But Cassian was right. That was not what Nesta could offer her little sister anyway, and that was not what Feyre needed from her either. That was not what she had ever wanted from her father, either. In the end, it all came to the four of them failing at being a family.

Feyre needed had needed that as much as Nesta did.

She was ready to be that from now on.

When she didn’t answer, Cassian stayed quiet, allowing her once again to get lost in her thoughts as long as she needed to, but wary at the same time, in case she drifted back to the dark ideas that so frequently starred in her nightmares.

Nesta freed herself from his grip and went back to the cot, running a hand over its cracking wood frame. Splinters snagged at her fingertips.

Her father’s body crawled up on the chair, the small fire burning until late at night so he wouldn’t freeze under the shabby blanket he used to keep himself warm… Nesta could picture it clearly when she looked at the cot again. “He’d drag it in front of the fire every night and curl up there, huddling under the blankets. I always thought he looked so … so weak. Like a cowering animal. It enraged me.”

That was the issue, the whole point of coming to the cabin. Her soul needed to face this chapter of her life like her lungs needed the air she breathed to keep her body alive. Nesta had to find a way to cope with the matted of feelings, nightmares and emotions —with the contradictions that formed in her heart.

It was always about him in the end. Her father. Their relationship.

She wanted to forgive him. She was sure of that. But there was still so much anger, such immense feeling of abandonment inside her that hadn’t been cured in time. He had been there for her in the end, and somehow that was even worse, because now she couldn’t even despise him for his cowardice. He died for her before he could face the consequences of his decisions, as she was trying to do now. He died, leaving his daughter with even more guilt inside. Because now she finally knew he did love her enough to get up from his chair and try anything, but was gone before she got a chance to do anything with that.

Her father had finally done what she needed from him, and she couldn’t even thank him. Tell him that she forgave him and ask him to forgive her back for all the times she picked on him. Tell him that she loved him, that she was grateful and his effort had been worth it.

“It …” Her throat worked. “I thought him sleeping here was a fitting punishment while we got the bed. It never occurred to me that he wanted us to have the bed, to keep warm and be as comfortable as we could. That we’d only been able to take a few items of furniture from our former home and he’d chosen that bed as one of them. For our comfort. So we didn’t have to sleep on cots, or on the floor.” She rubbed at her chest. “I wouldn’t even let him sleep in the bed when the debtors shattered his leg. I was so lost in my grief and rage and… and sorrow, that I wanted him to feel a fraction of what I did.” Her stomach churned.

He squeezed her shoulder, but said nothing. Nesta didn’t talk for a moment, and Cassian put an arm around her to press her body against his, hugging her without a word. The warmth from his chest felt almost too good. She needed it, and also the calmness of his heartbeat.

“He had to have known that,” she said hoarsely. “He had to have known how awful I was, and yet … he never yelled. That enraged me, too. And then he named a ship after me. Sailed it into battle. I just … I don’t understand why.”

“You were his daughter.”

“And that’s an explanation?” She rose her chin to look at him and scanned his face, the sadness etched there. Sadness —for her. For the ache in her chest and the stinging in her eyes.

“Love is complicated. But he loved you.”

“I can’t for the life of me understand why.” she answered.

Nesta didn’t even have to think the words, they came out of her mouth before she even realized what she had said.

Cassian had told her that once last year —that he couldn’t understand why her sisters loved her. That simple sentence, said by him so casually in the middle of the street, followed her home and helped her already overwhelming self-loathing bring her even lower. Nesta had often wanted to know if he went over his words as frequently as she did after that night and the following months. She wondered if the confession he had made hunted him too.

Nesta had come to the conclusion that it didn’t torment him one bit the moment he came to her apartment to pick her up and take her to Feyre’s new mansion by the river. She was convinced at that moment that he actually couldn’t come up with a single reason why Feyre and Elain still wasted their time on her.

Yet he was here, so she wasn't alone whilst facing her past. He was by her side now, not giving up on her no matter how badly she screwed up.

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he was about to say, she didn't want to hear it now. It didn’t matter how he felt back then, she only cared about the present. And he was by her side. He was being a friend, apologizing for things he regretted that Nesta herself hadn't even consider, but somehow made sense.

She forgave him. Because she knew what it was like to crack under pressure and be hurtful towards people you care about when you don’t know how to help them and become desperate.

And Cassian somehow could read through her too, as he closed his mouth, his lips pressed tight.

Both of them let the unspoken words float between them, saying nothing, only looking at each other. Nesta was not perfect and he wasn’t either —there was no need to be perfect. Not right now. There were so many things they had yet to find the courage to discuss, that Nesta didn’t care. Looking into his hazel eyes, Nesta found the reassurance she needed that they would talk about it, with time, and that was enough.

They would talk about every unsaid thing between them.

They had all the time in the world.

The forgoten room reappeared around them at some point, as if they had been somewhere else when they got lost into each other’s eyes.

She studied the calluses already building across her fingers and palms. She made herself meet Cassian’s gaze again. “I didn’t just fail Feyre by letting her go into the woods. There were plenty of other times. I feel guilty.” Nesta said the words aloud for the first time. It was a clear feeling, as much as she hated it. She had finally found the one comprehensible spot in the mess that was her heart. Using that, she could pull the thread until she untangled the whole thing. It would take time, but it was a first step. Maybe there was hope for her after all.

Guilt. She felt guilt. She would work on that.

“Have you ever told her this?”

Nesta snorted. “No. I don’t know how.” That was still a problem.

He studied her, and she resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. “You’ll learn how. When you’re ready.”

“How very wise of you.”

Cassian sketched a bow.

Despite this house, the history all around her, Nesta smiled. She pocketed the carved rose. “I’ve seen enough.”

He arched a brow. “Really?”

She clenched the wooden rose in her pocket. “I think I just needed to see this place. One last time. To know we got out. That there’s nothing left here except dust and bad memories.”

He slid an arm around her waist as they walked for the door, again surveying all the little paintings Feyre had squeezed into the cottage. “Az won’t be back for a little while. Let’s go flying.”

“What about the humans?” They’d run screaming in terror.

Cassian gave her a wicked smile, opening that half-broken door for her. Leading her into the sunlight and clean air. “It’ll add a little spice to their days.”

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goth-albino-angel · 3 years

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Yugiri's smile is everything. She has so many of them and they all mean different things. When she's relaxed, when she's excited, when she's confused, when she has no clue what's going on but everyone else is happy so she's happy, when she's relieved, when she's proud... She has so many different smiles and if Tumblr didn't have the 10 image rules, I would absolutely gush about every single one of them in detail. Unfortunately, if I do that, all of those posts will probably be eaten out of the tag, so instead, here are my top 10 favorite Yugiri smiles so far, images included. (Pre-Revenge episode 9)

10. Season One, Episode 2: The First Smile/ 9. Season One, Episode 10: The Sentimental Smile

Episode 2 is the first time we ever see Yugiri smile. Before this, she seemed relatively nonplussed or generally disinterested in pretty much everything going on. Even though she was in a different time period with complete strangers and a madman demanding her to be something she has no knowledge of, she was fairly calm. Then the first time we see her smile, it's when she sees something completely familiar. Her own face. Not only that, but she directs that smile toward the character that is going to become basically her little sister. The first one means so much and it's so important.

Within the same vein, her smile to Kotaro in episode 10 is one during an emotionally heavy moment. It's the first time he's hit an actual snag in his plans. Sakura's singular focus on the Arpino show rather than on the bigger picture of the group as a whole would have been a massive roadblock had she not realized her mistake.

Yugiri is the only one who properly realizes the reason they were sent into the mountains in the first place. Instead of simply sitting on the information, she's proactive about it and actually goes to discuss the problem with Kotaro. She wants to understand his reasoning so that she might be able to help him. And when she turns toward him, she also gives him the observations she's witnessed throughout her new life. This smile may be low on my list of favorites, but it's still unbelievably important.

...Also, when they released the preview image of this smile, my brain short-circuited for ten minutes, so it had to make it onto the list regardless.

8. Season Two, Episode One: The Professional Smile

This smile isn't much out of the ordinary for what we've come to expect of Yugiri, but it's on here because this was our first look at Yugiri after basically two years of very little. None of us knew how the group would come back, how the writing team had incorporated the unexpected pandemic, how things would play out, or what would be happening. The Promo showed Tae's hand flying off to knock off Sakura's head, but as 2018 displayed, the promos can't always be trusted. This showed that, even in this new world where she's only been awake for a year, she's putting her skills to use and working just as hard as the others. Thanks to the conversation from Episode 10 of the first season, we know she was trained as a geisha which would make service work much easier than it would be for the other girls.

I don't have too much to say on this one, to be honest. I do like that she's in softer lighting, as opposed to the others who were all surrounded by harsh lighting on their season two introductions. The softer lighting lends itself well to the lack of pigment and coloration in the girls' makeup, allowing Yugiri to look like she has some color, even if she still looks somewhat pale and tired. It doesn't give her quite the same sickly look the others have at their jobs. The red dress? 100/10. Perfect decision.

7. Season One, Episode Five: The Proud Smile

SHE. DOES. GYMNASTICS. She has every right to this smile! I did the math for this specific part of the episode and Yugiri got third place. The judges liked her rope aerobics so much, they shot her all the way to third place even though her distance was zero meters. It wouldn't have gotten her interviewed, but it would have at least put Franchouchou at the forefront. I still applaud Tae snagging first place, but Yugiri deserves some praise. She really did go face first into the mud on a bike and said, "Never again." She's so proud of herself. I'll be gushing about the actual gymnastics part in a different post a little later, too, but she definitely deserves to be proud of herself. I'm really gay...

6. Season One, Episode Four: The Cute Smile

Originally, this was just going to be me doing some keysmash version of a squeal or something, but there's something I'd like to draw attention to. I'm pretty sure that, by this point, Franchouchou only knows two songs. Yomigaere, which was supposed to be performed in episode 2, and Mezame Returner, which is what's being performed here. Of these two, Yugiri has more experience with this one, but from what the audience had been shown, it wasn't good experience.

Memorizing the lyrics would have been the easy part for her. It's that a good portion of the dance practice was also spent helping Lily get the steps down and potentially calming her frustrations. Then the performance itself would have been a complete disaster if Junko and Ai hadn't gotten over themselves at the last minute to finally help.

This is the first successful performance of Mezame Returner we're witnessing and it's clear the group's had more practice since then. You can see how excited and happy Yugiri is here because this one is actually going well. They had a bit more time to prepare, the two lead roles were actually involved this time, and the audience also was clearly enjoying the performance. She's so happy and it's just so heart-warming to see. Yes, even with the CGI. Don't @ me, she looks adorable.

5. Season One, Episode Seven: The Sassy Smile

This one also was just going to be a squealing keysmash thing, but again, I have something to point out. Look how much more confident she is now that Junko and Ai have, once again, gotten over themselves. Yugiri sees the effect that Junko stepping in had on the others and just like the rest of the group, her movements are more relaxed and free.

It's more obvious, actually, if you look at the way the other girls are moving directly after Junko helps Ai up in comparison to how Yugiri is moving. She did a spin while waiting for Sakura and Lily to finish their segment, and she could be cheeky during her own. She sensed that the tension had mostly dissolved and because of that, she allowed herself to relax and could properly throw herself into the performance. When she throws out this smile and wink, it's not actually directed at the audience. It's Yugiri telling the others that they've got this without breaking the performance.

4. Season Two, Episode Four: The Gentle Smiles

I put both of these here because Yugiri's just... so... caring? So much of what she does is passive that you don't realize just how much work she puts into relieving the stress from the other girls until long after the problem has been resolved.

In the first, she's speaking to Sakura. No doubt, Yugiri probably noticed how worried Sakura was about Junko. Even though Sakura was trying not to let the others catch on just how anxious she really was, Yugiri still knew that something was bothering Sakura as well as Junko. Yugiri knew that the key to easing Junko's mind lay in placating Sakura first. She's seen what happens to them all when they fall apart and she wants to avoid that at all costs. So, Yugiri lifts Sakura's spirits and gives her back the fire and determination to make a great performance.

In the second, Yugiri is watching Junko eat. Unlike the others, it's clear Yugiri knows that Junko is in much higher spirits than when last they saw her. Junko would likely have still been a stuttering, quivering mess otherwise, but she wasn't stuttering and her actions were purposeful and self-assured. Yugiri is very observant. She would have caught on that something had happened to make Junko feel better. What makes this smile even better is that she's not the least bit disappointed. The reason she made dinner was to help Junko, but she doesn't view the meal as a waste of time. She's so focused on other people, that she's happy Junko is feeling better at all and even offers her different platters to help keep her mood up.

These are high on the list for two reasons. One, they're a show of just how much Yugiri does for her girls. Two, YUGIRI COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS HEADCANON CONFIRMED BITCHEEEESSS!!! I GOT ONE RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!

3. Season Two, Episode Six: The Affectionate Smile

I will be completely honest, I have no idea why this one is as high as it is. I admit, I did spend three hours replaying this single thirty second scene because it's really sweet and Yugiri and Tae don't interact very often, so seeing Yugiri not only be worried for Tae, but also be immediately reassured that Tae would be fine was just something my heart didn't know it needed until it had it. The sheer level of affection Yugiri shows toward Tae is too adorable. Especially since Yugiri usually only has moments like those with Sakura and, to a lesser extent, Lily. This smile's really cute, it's in the middle of a wholesome scene, and it made me love both Yugiri and Tae that much more.

2. Season One, Episode Three: The Excited Smile

Once again, an entry that was going to be a simple squealing keysmash until I realized there was something to point out here as well. This is the first smile we ever see from Yugiri that's genuinely enthusiastic. She has plenty of them, especially during her performances, but this is our first time seeing her fully incorporate herself into the group as an actual member and actually look excited to do something with the others. This was an omen of adorable things to come and damn did it deliver.

Honorable Mentions.

I'm only going to touch on each of these briefly because to be honest, there are a LOT of smiles I could've picked.

The first one is from episode 6 when the group is talking about their very first meet-and-greet. Lily asks Yugiri if she's keeping up okay, and Yugiri remarks that she's taking things as they come. This was a small look into the kind of character she is. As I mentioned before, she's very passive in the way she operates, but that's to the benefit of those she cares for. This is her admitting that she doesn't want to be a problem and it's just sweet that even though Lily is worried about her, Yugiri's still highkey thinking about everyone else.

To the right is a shot of Yugiri during Electric Returner. This one is just the squealing keysmash because she looks so genuinely ecstatic, it's contagious. She's NO DAMN CLUE what happened or why they sound so different, but she is absolutely living her best second life.

The next shot comes from the beginning of Yomigaere and is somewhat of a repeat of the above. She's excited to perform for such a big crowd, she's glad Sakura finally agreed to actually participate, and she's living her best second life. Whoever animates Yugiri's CG model? I love you. I want to send you a gift basket. She's always so happy during performances.

Then comes her smile after the group finds out Sakura's memories are back. She's just glad Sakura, her Sakura, has come back to them, that she accepts her crap luck and is still willing to stay. For Yugiri, this goes under the list of Best Possible Outcomes. Her family is whole again and she's so relieved.

Last in the top row is the first full frontal shot we get of Yugiri in the Saga Jihen music video. She's so unbelievably adorable here. I wish I could've gotten her first expression, but the curtain was still rising and without photoshop, I'm not editing an image to the degree needed to get her whole face lightened. Point is, she's cute and everyone deserves to see her adorable face on the first song she got to be center for.

First on the bottom row is Yugiri looking apologetic from episode 8 of Revenge. She's so cute. It was an honest mistake and she had no way of knowing the paper belonged to Kiichi. No doubt, that was probably why she offered to help him rewrite them later.

Next is how cute she looks in big sister mode. She's wiping the mud from Kiichi's cheeks and is taking such care with him. Throughout the entire episode, she treats him like a little kid and it's likely because her role was big sister for so long that she doesn't know how not to treat him that way. It really does shed light on just how kind she is to everyone, though, that she doesn't even think about her dirty kimono and focuses on cleaning him up a little first.

Then we have her smiling at Kiichi as she remarks on how beautiful his dream of reviving Saga is. She even says she hopes it comes true. His dream means something to her. She can't even fully see it, he can't even fully see it, but they don't need to. What Itou didn't understand this whole time is something Yugiri understood immediately just from listening to Kiichi talk. They don't need to see it in their minds, all they need is to feel it in their hearts, and that's something Yugiri knows.

And lastly on the honorable mentions, because this post is already super long, Yugiri smiling while she's cooking for her guests. It was a tossup between this or the pinwheel because it's just really nice that Yugiri can simply enjoy mundane things. I chose this one because it's a direct contrast to how she was at the beginning. Before, she ate with a disinterested expression, but now, she's cooking for guests rather than just for herself. The lift in her mood is obvious, and it's something so small but so heartwarming, I couldn't resist.

I would've put the pinwheel moment anyway, but unfortunately, as a com major, formatting and design are everything and an extra picture on the top or bottom without a balancer would've thrown the whole thing off. Maybe next time.

NOW FOR NUMBER ONE

1. Season Two, Episode Eight: The Softest Smile

This should have been expected. There's something genuinely touching about the fact that Yugiri really does give her everything, even to complete strangers. These girls barely know her, everyone in town barely knows her, but because her dance students suggested Yugiri go out and actually experience, Yugiri gives it actual thought. She doesn't dismiss them, she doesn't deride them, she doesn't make them feel foolish or anything like that. She treats their suggestion the same way she would if it had come from a close friend. And she does actually take them up on it.

Later, we see her come into contact with Kiichi to demonstrate that even full-on strangers aren't exempt from her kind heart, but this means more. All we know is that these girls take Yugiri's dance class, and from the way they speak when we first meet them, it's clear Yugiri has a professional wall between herself and those she instructs. But she still treats them as she would the girls back in Shimabara. It's proof that, even in the past, Yugiri really was just as kind-hearted as in the present. It's a show don't tell kind of thing that just speaks so deeply to the writer in me. I love this smile. It's everything. Her smiles are everything. She's everything.

#Yugiri #Yuugiri #Zombieland Saga #Zombie Land Saga #Zombieland Saga Revenge #Zombie Land Saga Revenge #Angel has spoken #rip mobile users #I'm sorry but I needed to do this #also sorry about the slight passive aggressiveness for entries five and six #I'll do better

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kayann9 · 5 years

Text

Distance Part 2

Sorry it has been a while! Hope everyone had a great holiday season. More Parker fluff - the conclusion and make up to part 1. I won’t post now before New Year so I hope everyone has a lovely start to 2019 :) Characters are choices and not mine

Parker X Mc

Tags: @mind-reader1 @mistersinclaire @krish58100

Words: 1,781 Rating: T

“So, you’re just not getting dressed. Ever?”

Elliot clucks at me whilst rummaging for his second favourite shirt. Apparently, it’s my fault that the one with the blue has shrunk even though he definitely pressed the ‘on’ button for that load of laundry. I roll my eyes as he throws piles of similar looking t-shirts onto the bed; all crumpled and wrinkled from not being unpacked when I’d told him to. Although, I suppose, in my current state, I can’t judge him too much. I smooth out my grey joggers, a size too big now thanks to my lack of appetite over the last month, and scrape my hair up again still damp from the shower.

“I am wearing clothes thus dressed.” I give his shoulder a shove out of the way and open the bottom drawer of his dresser. Quickly, I throw the black shirt at him.

“How did you-”

Because you look for things with your eyes closed. That had been mom’s favourite thing to say to Elliot when he lost his shoes, or his bag, or his everything. “I have my ways.” He screws up his nose as he throws it over his t-shirt. “You are going to be late.”

Panic floods his wide eyes as he looks at the clock. “Shit.”

“Elliot!” I snap.

“You curse all the time. I heard you calling the tv an asshole yesterday for not having Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on at scheduled timing.” As if that’s an argument. I’m a grown woman. I glare at him, unwavering and it doesn’t take long for him to break the eye contact. “Fine. Some of us are more equal than others.” He mutters.

“Don’t George Orwell me. When you’re eighteen curse all you like. Now get going Scooter.”

Grabbing his hat, he rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue. “Fine. But – why don’t you go and-” I cut him off with another glare. I don’t want to go anywhere. “I’ll be home before dark.”

Meeting Robbie hadn’t been the first thing I’d have liked him to do, not after the whole scenario in his basement but, I suppose, he made Elliot happy and at least one of us should have that opportunity. I grab a bagel because bread is my friend. I’d be singing from a different hymn sheet when I couldn’t fit in my dress for Imogen’s creepy initiation ceremony I’d, for some reason, agreed to partake in.

The door goes as I’m about to take my first bite of starchy goodness. Scooter. Probably forgotten to make a snarky comment about something else or perhaps he’s short a few dollars. “Just so you know, I’m not giving you a ride. It’s your fault you’re late.” I call into the kitchen with my mouthful of processed starch.

“Yeah it is kind of my fault.” I almost choke, caught somewhere between panic and the realisation that this had to have been some kind of twisted dream. There is no way Parker Shaw is here; not after our last conversation. After we’d both silently reached the conclusion that we were quietly hoping for different outcomes to this already bad situation. I look up. He’s here. His hair still a mess, face creased, and eyes rimmed in red from tiredness. He shrugs. “Elliot told me to come in. I was going to knock but then-”

I shoot up from the couch, my plate clattering to the floor. “No, no it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting -”

I look like shit. I look worse than shit. My joggers have a hole in the knee. My shirt is Care Bears. I’m not even wearing a bra. Wonderful. Way to win him back.

With a little smile, he cups my jaw with his hand and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me. God, I want him o kiss me. His thumb gently runs over the skin and he chuckles gently. “You have a little-” Crumbs. I have a face covered in crumbs.

“Oh. Sorry. I was having-” I don’t even know what meal I’m meant to be eating right now. Three in the afternoon so perhaps a late afternoon snack?

“No.” Parker states firmly. “I mean no. I’m sorry Harper. I’m sorry for the other night.”

Since it happened, since he’d left that night, I’ve played out in my head what I wanted. There are times he apologises and promises he’ll never leave and there are times I’ve sought him out, in my brave imaginary state, to let him know how valid his pain is. None of them included me covered in half-eaten bagel. None of them happened in this living room with M.A.S.H reruns in the background. But, I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s here, and with him, my shred of sanity.

I motion for him to sit.

“Parker, you have nothing to apologise for. You were right. I have no right to assume that-”

“Yes, you do. You have every right. You have every conceivable right to question this considering what you’ve lost.” He sighs, and his hands grip his knees. “I don’t want Arthur to be guilty. I don’t want Abe to be either but if he is, I’ll be ok. I think.”

No, he won’t.

How did we get here?

I can’t stand seeing him like this. His eyes are shiny when he looks at me and I wipe my face, my own tears starting to burn again. But, he looks so hurt and broken. A man who’s resigned himself to the misery that is to come. I don’t even know what I want now other than for all this to go away. For me and Elliot to be fine and for me and Parker to be fine and everyone living happily ever after with songs and talking animals – preferably ones that don’t have several heads.

I squash onto the arm chair where he’s sitting. I don’t have much space but, I don’t need much space. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rest my head on his shoulder. The second his arms go around my waist, tight and firm, I kiss his cheek.

“I don’t want you to lose things either.”

Slowly, he leans back in the chair and I rest on him. “I know you don’t. It was stupid of me to even think that.”

“You’re not stupid.” I growl at him. I need him to stop saying that; to stop believing it. “This is a stupid situation. This whole thing is stupid. We are not. We’re doing our best with what information we have and-”

His lips press against mine, slowly but decisively. When he pulls away, my heart beat is thundering in my ears. “I’m sorry.” Oh god. Does he regret it? Is he apologising for our near-death making out session? Couldn’t he stand to even look at me now? Sickness gnaws at my stomach. “I shouldn’t have left. We promised that when it got bad, we’d not do that, and I broke that promise.”

I’d not even thought about that. I run my fingers through his hair and shuffle to sit on his thigh. “Nobody broke anything. We’re talking. You, Parker Shaw, are a man of your word.”

The smile on his face makes me feel lighter than I have in days.

“I am indeed a man of my word.” He rubs his hand over his stubble and winks. “I just want you to know something. This whole thing is terrible – worse than that – it’s shit. Just utter bullshit. I hate that you’ve lost your family. I hate that this town is a mess. I hate all these lies and secrets. I especially hate ghosts and zombies.” Parker grabs my hand and wraps his fingers in mine. “But one thing I could never hate, is you Harper. You are the only thing making some sense to me and I want you to know, whatever happens, that I truly believe that.”

For the first time, maybe even since I got here, genuine warmth spreads in my chest.

Softly, he presses a kiss to my forehead and I let my eyes close. Thank god. Thank god he’s back.

“I know. You’re important to me too.”

The laugh he releases is warm and makes my spine tingle. “You know, I might even treat you to a romantic dinner when we put all this behind us.”

“I quite enjoyed the cramped supply closet whilst being chased by murderous crazy people.” His head shakes at me and I press my lips to the corner of his mouth. “Fine, I suppose I can let you wine and dine me.”

Even though it had been days, I’d missed this. Like I said, my only shred of normality. The only time I don’t have to be on or responsible.

“I quite enjoyed the supply closet too. In fact, I seem to remember something about carrying it on when sound wasn’t an issue?” His eyebrows raise. I had said that, hadn’t I? “You, Harper Vance, are a woman of your word.” I swat him in the arm.

“One make out session and you’re a regular Don Juan but, you are in fact correct. I have an empty house and a promise to make good on.” As Parker’s mouth brushes against the skin on my neck, my spine shudders. Bliss. Probably more bliss than I deserve. “I mean it is improper to get to third base without at least popcorn and terrible movie -”

When he laughs, his breath tickles my flesh. “I swear, I will keep this between us. Your reputation is safe with me.”

I doubt that.

Slowly, his mouth moves to mine and I lose myself in it; safe and warm and everything.

“Shit! God, my eyes!”

We both fall out the chair, trying to untangle our limbs faster than a human possibly could. As Elliot and Robbie stand above us wide-eyed and pale, I glare at Parker. Didn’t even lock the door; a cop, that didn’t lock the door.

“Elliot! Hi Robbie – Parker and I were-”

“This is most gross thing I have ever seen.” As Elliot speaks, Robbie bites back a smirk. “And please, spare me the ‘he stopped breathing and I was giving him mouth-to-mouth’ yarn; it didn’t work when I caught you with Brendan Gibson and it won’t work now.” With a snort and a head shake, Elliot hops up the stairs leaving Robbie awkwardly shrugging in our direction.

Silence befalls us as we sit on the floor; my ass bone probably bruised from the landing.

Parker, despite the redness on his face, is the first to laugh. “So, Brendan Gib-”

“Don’t you dare Parker. Don’t you dare.”

#playchoices #choices ilb #pixelberry #it lives beneath #elliot vance #parker shaw #harper vance #ilb parker #robbie sutcliffe #it lives 2

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