#Mind if we borrow that plot point with the missing father

[goodqueenaly]

Hi again! I had another question I wanted to ask you, about the waif’s origin story that she tells Arya in AFFC. I was wondering if you would mind explaining the significance/meaning of it? Sorry for such a broad question. It stands out to me, because it reminded me of some fairy tales especially Cinderella/Three little men in the wood. Thank you! Have a great day!

Prefacing this discussion with the caveat that we don't know for certain what is true about this story, since Arya and the waif had already established the precedent of the lying game and since the waif herself said both that there was "an untruth" in it and that she "lied about the lie". For these purposes, however, I'm going to assume that it is more or less accurate (including Arya's deduction that the House of Black and White took two-thirds of the family wealth, not all of it).

You're certainly right that GRRM loves his fairytale tropes: it's barely scratching the surface to say that he has drawn inspiration from stories like Beauty and the Beast (in the stories of both Jaime and Brienne and Sandor and Sansa), Snow White (in the story of Cersei and her fear of the younger, more beautiful queen), and Little Red Riding Hood (whose story beats get twisted in Sansa and Sandor's meeting during the Battle of the Blackwater), among many others, for ASOIAF. Indeed, he uses Cinderella's basic plot points for Falia Flowers as well - the daughter of the household treated as a serving-maid by her father's wife and the woman's daughters, only to triumph over them when she "marries" a king - but, as he does with many other tropes, plays with and subverts them, having Euron reveal his truly evil nature in his treatment of Falia afterward.

The waif's story, in that sense, also borrows elements from the classic (at least, to a western audience, appropriate given GRRM's own background as a member of this audience) telling of Cinderella. The waif's father's second wife fits the Wicked Stepmother trope all too well, and if the woman's daughter isn't strictly a wicked stepsister (she seems to be the child of the waif's father as much as the waif herself is, and we get nothing of her character in the story), there is certainly a sense of prioritizing the daughter of this second marriage over the daughter of the first. Perhaps GRRM was also thinking of the Grimms' more violent (second) telling of the tale (certainly compared to the Disney film), in which the wicked stepsisters are initially mutilated (on their mother's advice, in order to fit their feet into the all-important slipper) and later blinded as punishment for their treatment of Cinderella; certainly, the woman's literally poisonous attempted murder of the waif, and the father's willingness to have the woman murdered in turn reflect a distinctly non-sanitized take on fairy tale tropes. Again, because nothing is one to one between ASOIAF and its sources of inspiration, not all of the story beats of Cinderella are found here: the waif does not live happily ever after as the bride of a prince but is almost poisoned to death before being forced to spend the rest of her life working for a cult of assassins, and she seems to have none of the sweet, kind, unfailingly good nature of the fairy tale heroine.

In universe, the story underlines just how different the waif is from Arya; indeed, they are almost polar opposites in their family upbringings. The waif was "born the only child of an ancient House, my noble father's heir", her sole sibling eventually being a stepsister and rival for her dynastic place; Arya may also have been born to "an ancient House", but she grew up in a happy, relatively sizable family of five siblings, mixing the children of Ned and Catelyn with the (ostensible) bastard son Jon, and as the younger daughter had no worries about being prepped to inherit Winterfell. The waif speaks of never knowing her mother, who died when she was young; Arya, by contrast deeply loved and misses her mother, hates that she could not save Catelyn from the Red Wedding, and even seemingly named herself after her mother when prompted for a false identity in Braavos. The waif was subjected to the murderous ambition of her stepmother, who sought to drive the waif out of the family inheritance in favor of her own daughter, yet I tend to believe that the Stark kids, happy to be reunited with their loved ones, will resist factional attempts to pit them against each other for control of Winterfell (with the obvious reminder that there is, you know, an apocalypse coming). The father of the family has no problem seeking murderous revenge in turn against his second wife, though this could not be farther from the truth about the relationship between Ned and Carelyn; indeed, Arya so much believes in the love between her parents that she angrily defended it to Edric Dayne and included the same sort of parental love in her invented backstory as Cat of the Canals. Nor could we ever believe that Ned would sacrifice his daughter to a cult of assassins for the sake of revenge; rather, we saw Ned's willingness to renounce his firm beliefs about the succession and condemn himself to life imprisonment (and, though he might not have known it at the moment, death for himself) so that his daughter might be kept safe.

All of these contrasts emphasize that the House of Black and White is not the place of Arya of House Stark. This is a place which not only profits from dissension, infighting, and murderous ambition and revenge, but indeed depends on these to form its "market", so to speak - a far cry from the happy home of Winterfell and its Stark inhabitants. Where the waif treats the implosion of her family life as merely a new entry in the lying game, Arya has never stopped remembering, or missing, her life among her Stark family members. Arya cannot give it all up, as the waif did (or, rather, as the waif had it decided for her that she would); she belongs back with her family and back in Winterfell.

Of course, the waif's story is full of ironies as well. In the end, the grand fortune of that "ancient House" the second wife might have hoped for her daughter to inherit all but disappears into the coffers of the Faceless Men; only a third is left, less even than what the second marriage's daughter would have gotten had the inheritance been divided equally. The father is left back where he started, dynastically speaking - the single parent of a single daughter - yet poorer for it, arguably no better and perhaps worse off than he had been before (only limited by our lack of insight into his personal view on the matter). If the father's goal was to murder his second wife in revenge for what she had done to his elder daughter, his actions simultaneously took that daughter's life as well; the waif was forced to spend the rest of her days forsaking her entire birth identity and murdering others in the name of an assassination guild, legally and spiritually if not bodily dead. (Nor, of course, do we ever get any insight as to what the waif herself, the actual target of that attempted murder, thought of either the contracted murder of her stepmother or her own permanent confinement in the House of Black and White; in an act of revenge ostensibly taken in her name, the waif has no input and no agency.) Likewise, while the father had his second wife murdered, he seems to have done nothing to disinherit the child of his second marriage. This daughter was in turn left precisely where the waif was, her father's only heir and perhaps too young to remember her dead mother; the stepmother's ambitions posthumously won out, as her husband's elder daughter was effectively killed off and her own daughter was set to inherit. All of these ironies add to the waif's characterization, making her an outlet of narratively rich writing as opposed to simply an NPC Arya interacts with in her new environment.

On a practical level, too, the story provides more insight into elements of the Faceless Men's business model. The Faceless Men aren't out to completely beggar their clients - hence asking for two-thirds of the man's wealth instead of all of it - but they do ask for a considerable sacrifice, at least within the means of the requestor. The father in this story was probably a wealthy man (the head of that "ancient House" in a society which has historically valued trade and commercialism over feudal land ownership and agriculture), so the price was high in monetary terms - but because the father was also a man in the midst of a succession dispute, the price included the previous guarantor of his dynasty, his elder daughter (with, again, the implication that it would be the child of his targeted wife who would succeed him). Perhaps this pricing model was intended to imbue this killing with the divine approval of the Many-Faced God: if this man were willing to have his wife killed knowing that by his actions he would disinherit his older daughter and impoverish himself to some extent, then truly this request must be the will of the Many-Faced God, and not simply human vengeance.

#asoiaf meta #affc #the waif #faceless men #arya stark

[101flavoursofweird]

Rating the Parents of Rhythm Thief

I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before but parenting is such a key theme in Rhythm Thief.  

SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE GAME AND THE BONUS EPISODES FOLLOWING THE GAME

Raphael, dog parent to Fondue

Raphael meets the cowardly Fondue (or “dog” as he’s called then) a year after his father disappeared. Raphael looks after Fondue for a few days, trying to find him a new owner, but he almost has to leave Fondue. He tells Fondue that he has his first job as Phantom R coming up and if he can’t pull it off, he won’t be coming back. So... Raphael was planning to leave his home if he failed. (Maybe he was going to search for his father...) 

Raphael is shocked when Fondue saves him from the police and lets him stay at his apartment. (Even though Raphael’s apartment doesn’t allow pets...) Raphael knows first-hand what it’s like to be abandoned. Thankfully, Fondue doesn’t suffer the same fate! Raphael becomes a parent dog owner, he gains a partner in Fondue and neither of them lose their home. 

9/10 (But Raphael’s still a kid himself)

Jean-François, former guardian to Marie

Marie has Jean-François acting (literally) as her guardian. J.F. acts worried when he hears Marie was attacked- by the organisation he works with. At the Opera House, he hopes Duchess Elizabeth will confirm Marie is her daughter. When Elizabeth denies this, Marie is so distraught and she runs off. J.F. just stands there like a lemon and he doesn’t go looking for her, even when Marie doesn’t come home afterwards. He helps kidnap Marie and then shoots Raphael on the Eiffel Tower. It’s revealed that J.F. was using Marie all along to get to the treasure. Later, when Raphael confronts him about breaking Marie’s heart, J.F. announces that it was worth it as long as he can achieve his ambitions. Also, tried to kill Raphael twice. Worst Parent Award by far goes to Jean-François.

-100/10 (Go away, evil British man pretending to be French!)

Duchess Elizabeth, Marie’s mother

In her diary, Elizabeth writes that the best day of her life was the day Marie was born. Unfortunately, Jean-François discovered Marie’s true heritage. Fearing for Marie’s safety and the Dragon Crown’s resurrection, Elizabeth gave Marie to the convent when Marie was an infant. Elizabeth also left her with the music for Moon Princess... which miiight have helped Jean-François to identify Marie. Whoops. Elizabeth must have been feeling sentimental and wanted to give Marie something to remember her by. Elizabeth doesn’t acknowledge Marie at the Paris Opera, but we can see how affected she is when Marie plays Moon Princess. 

That scene when she turns her back on Marie and walks away must have felt  very familiar to Raphael. Elizabeth has to pretend she has no interest in Marie so J.F. will leave them both alone. Elizabeth demands to know what J.F. would want, theoretically speaking, if he had found her daughter. “Money? Honor?” 

Later, when Napoleon threatens Elizabeth’s life in front of Marie, Napoleon reveals that Elizabeth has been lying in order to protect Marie. (Even the evil emperor recognises this!) Elizabeth tries to keep the act up, insisting that she is nothing but a stranger to Marie. Marie decides to save her and plays the song anyway after hearing Elizabeth call her name in distress. 

Then, above the Hanging Gardens, Elizabeth takes a literal bullet for Marie. Elizabeth reveals the truth to Marie and she calls Marie ‘Ma chère, Marie’ before passing out.  

Fortunately, the pendant Elizabeth wore with young Marie’s picture saved her from the bullet. Raphael remarks that Elizabeth was Marie’s guardian angel. 

After the Chevaliers have been defeated, in the final scene of the game, Elizabeth can be seen peacefully listening to Marie’s music at the opera house. In Marie’s bonus episode, she watches Marie at her examination to enter the conservatoire. She’s glad to hear Marie’s laughter and she encourages her to enjoy herself. She tells Marie to “play like you were playing for him”- Elizabeth approves of her future son in law. 

8/10 (Guardian angel)

Inspector Vergier, Charlie’s father

In Vergier’s first scene, we see him sending in an army of roller-skating police officers to arrest Phantom R. Vergier takes his work very seriously.

At Paris Constabulary HQ, Raphael overhears Vergier talking to another officer about how he hasn’t been home in days. Apparently, Vergier has been on a certain case since his wife died. The other officer basically tells him, “GO HOME TO YOUR KID”. 

At the Paris Opera, Raphael again overhears Vergier talking to his colleague. Vergier asks if Charlie has turned up yet. He knows about Charlie’s mission to hunt down Phantom R, but he considers her efforts an impediment to their investigation. Raphael picks up a family photo that Vergier dropped and decides to hang on to it. During his second fight with Charlie, Raph comments that Charlie is just like her father. Charlie snaps at him to “LEAVE HER FATHER OUT OF THIS!” (It’s not like she’s trying to prove her worth or anything- what gave you that idea?)

Raphael goes looking for Charlie after Marie gets captured. He talks to Vergier’s friend from university and learns that Charlie and Vergier just had some sort of argument. Also, the friend comments that Charlie is about Raphael’s age. So... Charlie’s 16-18, maybe. It’s not unheard of for a parent to leave a 16-18 home alone, but Charlie was left at home for DAYS??? Raphael finds Charlie at a cafe and asks her to return the photo to Vergier. Charlier huffs that she doesn’t want to see her father again, but then she reads the message her mother left on the photo. 

During the battle below the Hanging Gardens, Charlie saves her father from a bunch of Chevaliers. He acknowledges that he protects Paris in memory of Charlie’s mother. Charlie reminds him that there’s no time like the present, and she announces that she’ll help him save the city. Vergier doesn’t refuse her offer. 

In the final scene, Vergier and Charlie can be seen pursing Phantom R together.

Raphael’s trying to be polite and keep his voice down but these two are having a shouting match the middle of Marie’s performance!

There’s also Charlie’s bonus episode, where they fight off the last remnants (?) of the Chevaliers. Vergier announces that the case he was working on is officially closed. He’s realised that no matter how much he warns Charlie to stay away, she wouldn’t listen. He just asks her to stay where he can keep an eye on her. 

7/10 (Some character development but please don’t forget to feed your child)

Isaac, Raphael’s father 

Obviously, you’ve got Raphael and Isaac. The first chapter opens with dialogue of Raphael crying as Isaac leaves him. He left three years ago... when Raphael was fifteen. Raphael’s mother previously died in an accident, so Raphael was orphaned.

Raphael became Phantom R and chased after the mark his father left for him on the coin. 

Raphael reveals to Marie that his father was an artist but he never got a big break. Isaac became a forgery artists, swapping his fake art pieces with their authentic counterparts. Raphael tries to fix his father’s crimes and hunt for the mark by returning the real art pieces.  

Raphael thinks that he sees Isaac beneath Les Invalides and at the Palace of Versailles. He’s distressed and frustrated when he loses Isaac in the crowd. Isaac was in a hurry to escape...

During his final battle with Jean-François, Raphael learns that Isaac has been working with J.F. and the Chevaliers. Isaac made forgeries for J.F.’s organisation when Raphael was young and sickly. Raphael insists that he made those forgeries to pay the doctors. So, it does seem that Isaac initially joined the organisation for Raphael’s sake, but his intentions became warped over the years. 

Raphael couldn’t believe that his father would fall in with the Chevaliers and Elizabeth was close friends with Isaac... once. Isaac couldn’t have shown any obvious signs of going to the dark side years ago. 

In his final scene, Isaac discusses with the seemingly real emperor Napoleon that he wants to begin the next phase of their plan. He quietly warns Raphael to be ready for whatever that is. 

2/10 (Too bad we didn’t get a sequel to learn about his true motivations)

Bonus Points:

Alfred the Butler

He will fight you if you threaten the Duchess or her daughter. He almost died trying to defend Elizabeth. He also encourages Marie, though he gets nervous for her too. 

#rhythm thief #lost post #Charlie Vergier #Raphael #Phantom R #Duchess Elizabeth #Marie #Isaac #Fondue #Jean-François #Inspector Vergier #Alfred the butler #character analysis #Level 5 looked at Sega and said... #Mind if we borrow that plot point with the missing father? #Except Rhythm Thief does it 100x more emotionally and weaves it into the story? #Already Isaac's actions are held under some suspicion #If there'd been a sequel we could've gotten his full story #Why can't Rhythm Thief get an anime? #I'd pay to see Raph and Marie solving mysteries around Paris with their dog Fondue #And then having Charlie come in wanting to solve the mysteries instead #Yes I am writing Rhythm Thief meta in the year 2020 #What about it #Spoilers

[terrm9]

Father’s Day

Ethan makes sure to celebrate the Father’s Day with his daughter. (Ethan X Chiara X Matilda)

Words count: 4 000

Warnings: two swear words, fluff

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened here guys. I am so sorry, this fic lacks plot and point, depth, quality, this truly is one fluffy piece of shit. I had a good feeling about it when the idea appeared in my brain and then I started to write and nothing seemed right. And I just kept telling myself ‘just keep writing and it will start making sense. It will get better’... and suddenly the fic is finished and it still doesn’t make sense. I was so close to not posting it, but then I thought that sometimes mindless fluff can make my mood better and so maybe it can do some good to you too. Love you all and I promise I won’t be angry or hurt if you hate this:D

Also Ethan is ~47 in this fic, if you thought I wouldn't mention his graying hair, I am sorry but I did

Also also, I didn't find the strength needed for a proof reading this and so I didn't proof read it. If you see a mistake, please pretend you don't see it

The sun was long set at the time Ethan stepped into the apartment and even though he rationally knew that it was late, he couldn’t quite give up on his hope that maybe Matilda was still up. On the days like this, when more patients came in than out of the hospital and there was so much of a paperwork that he has to bring it home with him, there is nothing Ethan loved more than to put his daughter to sleep and then spend a nice quiet evening with Chiara.

But of course, Matilda was fast asleep – judging by the silence filling the whole apartment – and so Ethan was looking forward to skipping to the part of sharing an evening with his wife.

Chiara didn’t notice him as he stepped into the living room, her nose slightly crinkled as she was filling some papers spread on the dining table, white earpods in her ears.

Looks like I am not the only one to bring work home with me today.

Ethan stopped in his tracks for a moment, just inhaling the familiar scent of Chiara and home and absorbing the picture in front of him. Even after alsmot ten years since he met her for the first time, even though she was his wife now, someone he woke up next to every morning, Chiara still – always – managed to knock the air out of his lungs. How her smile only gained more brightness through the years and how she looked almost like a girl with her hair braided on one side.

Had he been an artist, he would call her his muse.

But he was just a man, a doctor with any artistic words stuck in his throat and so he just kept staring at Chiara and thought, inspiration, that’s what she was, because even the most rational of men could get inspired.

„I can feel you standing there,“ Chiara exclaimed suddenly, putting the earpods off and turning to him with that bright smile.

„My apologies,“ he smiled faintly and crossed the distance between them to give her, what Chiara called ‚a proper greeting‘. He kissed her softly and it only took the feeling of Chiara’s warm body under his hands to ease the tension in him almost completely.

„Matilda missed you tonight,“ Chiara murmured into his chest, not willing to break their embrance.

„As I missed her,“ Ethan sighed. „Did you have an eventful afternoon?“

Chiara chuckled at that, parting from him at last to switch her phone off and leave the work on the dining table.

„Just the usual. The teacher asked them to draw themselves in the future and she couldn’t decide which version of that future she should draw because she wants to be everything.“

Ethan could imagine the conversation very well. Matilda, at the age of five, knew exactly what she didn't want to become when she grows up - a doctor. She kept shifting between wishing to be a travel blogger like her aunt Kyra or a photographer like aunt Alicia. After a weekend spent in Providence, she proclaimed that she could also imagine being a cable repairwoman like grandpa, because grandpa has the coolest coworkers that came over and let her eat chocolate cookies and watch football with them. And if by any unfortunate coincidence she should become a doctor after all, she would definitely be a surgeon like uncle Bryce, because he actually cuts people and that's much more interesting than her parents' job. All they do is talk about the patients.

„I promised her you would take her to school tomorrow. You have rounds in the morning but I can taker over,“ which would only be a service for you, she thought to herself. „That would certainly make her feel better.“

„Was she that sad that I didn’t come home earlier?“

"Oh, she was more sad about the Father's Day program at her school – you know, the one where kids and their dads go together - but I explained her why you had to miss it."

Ethan furrowed his brows, confused for a while.

"Why do I have to miss it?" he asked as he picked Matilda's stuffed llama from the floor.

"It's the Wednesday when you are at the conference in Seattle."

Ethan put the toy on the couch next to Til's favourite blanket and sat down before responding, his voice carrying no sign of hesitation.

"If there's a Father's Day program at her school and she wants me to be there, I'll be there."

Ethan knew all too well why he was so persistent on being there.

He wished he didn’t know, but he did.

Because he knew what it felt like to spend so many of his Mother’s Days programms with his teeth gritted, wishing it could all just end.

He could still remember the first Mother’s Day without Luise, how his teacher walked into the class and told them that they would create nice postcards for their moms and how Ethan’s classmate pointed his finger at him and said: „And what is Ramsey going to do? It’s not fair that he doesn’t need to do anything for the whole hour.“

It was the first time Ethan punched someone.

There was no way, no way, that he would allow his daughter to feel any of those feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by Chiara, now sitting right next to him, a soft concern visible on her features.

„Alan and Naveen would go with her, you know. She wouldn’t be alone.“

„I am her father.“

„And you are also an author of the study this whole conference is going to be about.“

Ethan knew Chiara was right, just as he knew that she was doing this not because she didn’t want him to attend the programm, rather because she respected and supported his career.

But her arguments were of no use. Ethan’s mind was made up and he only wondered if this is what it felt like, all those years ago, when he pushed Chiara away in order to support her career. The idea of putting career first was making him uncomfortable and all he could do was to think, how did Chiara see it all those years ago?

Or rather, how did he not see it back then?

He had no answers, only his gratitude that she stayed and showed him the world through her eyes.

„Aurora is just as much of an author as me. She can handle the conference without me just fine. You can go with her.“

„Me?“ Chiara asked incredulously.

„Sure. They don’t really care which Dr. Ramsey will come.“

Ethan aged well. More wrinkles circled the corners of his eyes and the grey hair on his temples were not an optical illusion anymore (and Chiara has never found him more handsome than now) and his gaze changed too, the cold blue of his eyes almost forgotten, as his eyes were warm and soft almost all the time he was with his family.

Ethan aged and changed and yet there was a thing that didn’t change in the slightest in these last years. His insufferable stubborness.

And so Chiara knew that he won’t change his mind and that there was no point in trying to and while it warmed her heart to see how in love with Matilda Ethan was, the study was important to him.

Obviously not important enough, however, and Chiara decided not to push him any further. Instead, she asked curiously.

„And what are you going to perform? What if Matilda wants to do something crazy?" Chiara raised an eyebrow.

"Of course she won't want anything crazy. What if it were my father and Naveen taking her?"

Chiara laughed wholeheartedly at his question, because for someone so brilliant, sometimes Ethan was desperately clueless when it came to people around him - and what they were willing to do for their daughter.

"Please, this is Naveen and Alan you are talking about. Matilda could say she wants to sing Hakuna Matata and they would come dressed as Timon and Pumba."

"Ah," Ethan exhaled, obviously only now realizing that Chiara was, indeed, right. And singing - or dancing, for God's sake - was not part of his plan. "Well, she can play some basic compound on the piano, she has learned some already. And I could accompany her on the cello."

Chiara choked on the water she was just drinking, turning to look at Ethan so swiftly, his brows furrowed in a concern for her neck.

"On a what now?"

“A cello. I thought you knew that I used to play the cello as a kid.”

“Of course, but the as a kid part is important. I mean, I played a piano as a kid and now I couldn’t play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star if my life depended on it.”

Ethan laughed, wrapping his arm around Chiara in a half-hug and had to bite his tongue not to tell her that maybe Matilda could teach her, as she already could play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star exceptionally well.

“I might have stopped playing actively when I was ten, but I found a certain sense of serenity in music – and playing – for a long time after that. I-,” Ethan stopped himself, mulling over his next words. It was not like he didn’t want to tell Chiara anything, but talking about his years at med school was not something he did often. “I befriended a music shop’s owner back in Baltimore. He was a nice guy, barely older than me and so very different. He had musical instruments for sale there and as we became closer, he let me borrow the cello and play a little in the back of the shop. It became a thing that helped me clear my head when school became too stressful and it also helped me not to forget how to play. I think Matilda’s level on the piano is very close to what I can remember with the cello.”

Now all he had to do was to find someone who would borrow him the cello.

*** *** ***

Ethan always found it amusing, how his mornings with Matilda differed compared to Matilda’s mornings with Chiara.

He made sure to wake her up earlier than usual, so that they could cook breakfast together and have some time to spare.

Chiara – the person that hated mornings more than eggplants – did all she could to stay in bed for as long as possible. She would rather prepare Matilda’s breakfast in the evening and run to the school than wake up before 6 AM.

And it seemed like Matilda realized this difference quite soon, for all the times Ethan came to wake her up, she knew she could ask him to join her in bed for a few minutes.

"Hey, little Rookie," Ethan whispered, softly stroking Matilda's curls out of her forehead so that he could press a gentle kiss on it. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

The little Rookie nickname was first used when Til was perhaps one year old and it made her giggle so hard Ethan kept using it. Chiara found it extremely funny, always pointing out that Matilda was nothing if not Ethan’s exact copy – and she was right. With her big blue eyes and long curly dark hair, there was no doubt that she was Ethan’s daughter. Not that the similarities ended in her physical appearence – she was phenomenally subborn for a five year old (to which Ethan always argued that she could as well inherit that from Chiara) and sarcasm was her second language. She also might have used ‚fuck‘ once or twice and Ethan knew it’s not Chiara she heard that from.

You should call her little Terminator, Chiara always teased and partly, she was right.

But there were many traits and marks of Chiara in their daughter, marks not so visible but unmistakely hers. How Matilda’s smile was always bright and warm and sincere, something only Chiara could pass on. How she came home one day from school and asked Ethan if he could make cupcakes with her, because her classmate loves cupcakes but his parents are too busy to make them for him and so she would love to bring him some to school. How she appreciated the most common of things, like sun shining because it makes her skin warm and also rain falling because she can jump in the puddles. Her genuine curiosity and open heart and just her general need to make people around her feel good.

That was all Chiara’s mark and Ethan loved his two girls so much it sometimes still surprised him. That he was capable of such love.

It also made him want more sometimes. More people to love that much.

„Snuggle time, please?“ Matilda smiled, her eyes still closed and Ethan was prepared, he knew this request would come and so he didn’t even need to check the watch to know that he could lay down next to her, the tiny bed making his position rather awkward.

He snuggled Matilda from behind and between her slow stirs as she began to wake up and his soft kisses put on the back of her head, he whispered how excited he was to attend the Father’s Day program with her.

*** *** ***

Ethan didn’t even need to try hard to persuade Matilda that a piano-cello duet would be better to perform than a dance. She liked the idea from the beginning and after going through her music sheets with Chiara, she happily exclaimed that they could try to learn Hedwig’s Theme together. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement and Ethan knew the decision was already made, because he couldn’t resist that face.

And so they performed and for a girl who was five and her father, who was almost fifty, they did a great job. Seeing Matilda’s pure, unadultered joy and excitement and so much gratitude that her dad could be there with here, was something Ethan would consider one of the best moments of his life forever.

Tillie was almost jumping up and down with the happiness as they watched her classmates and their fathers or grandfathers or mothers in some cases or maybe even uncles perform their numbers. She was clapping hard after every single one and she kept waving at everyone, her smile so wide Ethan thought for a while that she resembled Bryce more than anyone. The thought made him chuckle, because Matilda would love to hear that, as Bryce was her hero and possibly the best person she could spend her sleepovers at.

Ethan could hardly say that he enjoyed being surrounded by so many people, but he sincerely did enjoy spending the day with his kid. He didn’t regret choosing making a fool out of himself in front of bunch of kids instead of the conference. He almost forgot about the conference altogether until Aurora’s call interrupted the bustle full of laughter around them.

She only called him to let him know that all went well and she was off to have a lunch with other diagnosticians that helped with the study.

"Yes, alright. I'll see you on Monday. Good job, Aurora," Ethan put the phone back into his pocket and turned to Matilda.

"I am sorry you missed the conference because of me, dad."

Ethan knelt down so that he could face his daughter, the very same blue eyes he knew from mirrors, looking back at him, wide and curious.

He smiled softly, kissing Matilda's forehead before responding.

"I am not. No conference is that important, and just between the two of us," Ethan lowered his voice and put his best serious face on, causing the mischievous sparks ignite in Tillie's eyes "Conferences are so boring. You saved me from a torture."

She giggled and threw her arms around Ethan's neck, squeezing him as hard as a five years old could.

"Now let's go, I think there's an ice cream that needs to be eaten."

"But daddy you said ice creams are sugar bomb!"

Ethan chuckled at her shocked expression - not sure is it was a genuine one or an act - and took her little hand into his.

"I'll pretend I don't see you eating it."

Matilda squealed and before her ‚no sugar in this house‘ dad could change his mind, she stormed off in the direction of the ice cream truck.

Before she could reach her destination, however, she stopped in her tracks and tugged on Ethan’s sleeve, pointing at the little girl sitting under one of the trees – alone.

„That’s Dorothy! She is my best friend.“

Yes, Ethan remembered Matilda mentioning Dorsey, her best friend, quite often, but he never got a chance to meet her before. The girl was tiny, much smaller than Matilda – which inherited Ethan’s significant height, too – her hair almost white and her eyes similar to Matilda’s, big and blue but not even close to being as bright.

„She doesn’t have a dad,“ Matilda added, her voice much less excited now. „She didn’t want to come here but her mom has to be at work.“

Ethan’s heart tightened at her words, the description of Dorothy’s situation reminding him of his own when he was a kid way too much.

„Why don’t you go and ask her to join us for an ice cream?“ Ethan smiled at Matilda faintly.

Before he could as much as blink, Matilda was gone and in the very next moment, both girls were back, smiling up at him, his own kid widely and Dorothy very shyly.

„Hello, Dorothy,“ Ethan knelt down and smiled at her encouragingly. „I am Ethan. It is my pleasure to meet you, Matilda talks about you a lot.“

„Hello,“ Dorothy muttered, not meeting his eyes and Ethan noticed she was holding Matilda’s hand.

Without any other word, he stood up and led both girls to find an ice cream truck, only half-listening to what they were talking about – enough to recognize that Dorothy was much more open when talking to Matilda, but not enough to register particular words.

Maybe that’s why Matilda’s next question took him off the guard.

„Right, daddy? I was just telling Dorsey that you could be her dad, right? And I would be her sister!“

Ethan’s eyes widened and before he could find the right words – gentle but also firm enough to explain that that’s not exactly how these things work, Matilda spoke again.

„She could come over anytime and we could have sleepovers like the ones I have with uncle Bryce or grandpa and we would play together and I could borrow her my toys, right?“

Ethan nodded and smiled, of course Dorothy is always welcome to stay at our place, and let the topic go, because there was nothing wrong about his daughter having best friend that would come over.

Thirty minutes later, all three of them sat at the grass and ate their ice creams and it was easy to forget the previous converstaions.

*** *** ***

Until he came into his office, a week after the Father’s Day and found Chiara waiting for him, her arms crossed at her chest and her expression unusually stoic.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Chiara spoke.

„Matilda’s teacher just called.“

„What?“ Ethan stepped closer, automatically reaching into his pocket to make sure his phone, wallet and car keys are there and he is ready to leave and pick up Matilda at any moment. „Is something wrong? Is she in trouble? Sick?“

„She is absolutely alright,“ Chiara shook her head sligthly, her face unreadable – something that scared Ethan more than her visible anger. „She just called me to let me know about the rumors going around Matilda’s class these past few days. She thought it would be better if I found out from her rather than from other parents.“

„Rumors?“ Ethan asked, utterly lost and confused.

It took all the willpower Chiara had not to let her facade slip and keep her expression neutral. But teasing Ethan was one of her main hobbies, even after ten years, and so she tried her best.

„Apparently, Matilda and Dorothy Wilkins told everyone that they are in fact sisters. They have different mommies but the same dad – no other than the famous Dr. Ramsey,“ now, it was really hard not to laugh. Ethan’s whole face paled and the confusion was quickly replaced by recognition. „The other kids shared the news with their parents and now those parents talk.“

Ethan didn’t know that Matilda told Chiara about her idea of Ethan becoming Dorothy’s dad the very same evening she shared it with Ethan himself and even though Chiara tried to explain why that idea is not going to work the way the wished it would, Matilda was stubborn. Meaning, Matilda adopted Dorothy as her sister anyway and didn’t mind sharing her dad with her.

„Fuck,“ Ethan whispered, pacing around the office, not really looking up at Chiara.

If he did, he would catch her grinning.

She cleared her throat quickly and added: „Some of the parents came to tell the poor teacher that they appreciate how civil the mothers of Matilda and Dorothy are about the whole thing and that it must’ve taken much strength of our spirits to put out kids into same school.“

She couldn’t anymore. The first chuckle escaped her and when Ethan’s eyes met hers, the mischievous sparks were dancing on full display in her irises, her smile wide and so amused.

Ethan exhaled a sigh full of relief and rolled his eyes and when he looked at Chiara again, she was laughing softly, badly trying to cover her laugh with the hand over her mouth.

The bizarreness of the whole situation and his wife’s reaction made Ethan laugh too and he slumped down on the couch, pulling Chiara with him.

„We should give some kind of explanation, right?“ he whispered when they both calmed down.

„Oh, I don’t know. I am the civil one,“ Chiara smirked smugly. „And with a strong spirit!“

Ethan laughed again at that, thinking about how any kind of rumors about him and Chiara startled him in the beginning of their relationship and how over the years, Chiara managed to teach him to just let people talk.

„She really wants that sibling, huh?“ Chiara broke the silence, poking his side softly.

„Yes, she does,“ Ethan nodded.

„And you would...want that too, right?“ Chiara asked again, this time much more seriousness in her voice.

Both Chiara and Ethan were decided to adopt a child back in the days they believed they would never have their own. After Matilda was born, they didn’t really talk about it anymore – they felt too blessed, too lucky that they’ve gotten her and they were happy.

But the thoughts of adoption never truly left their heads and Chiara knew that especially Ethan considered the option often. She could see him talking to Matilda when she asked for a sister or a brother for her birthday, she saw the dreamy smile as they spoke about little kids.

And it was not like she was against the idea of adopting a child – quite the opposite. She grew up with two siblings and her brother and sister were one of the best parts of her childhood. She wished she could give Matilda the same feeling, the same love she recieved at her age. She just felt like she would be asking for too much, like it would be selfish to want another little human that would make them happy, when they already had one.

Those thoughts were not rational, but they were there and they slowed her decisions down.

„Yes, I would,“ Ethan nodded after a long while, looking straight into Chiara’s eyes.

He would never push her. But he wouldn’t lie either.

Chiara nodded and leaned in to press a soft kiss on Ethan’s mouth, pouring her emotions into it, her excitement with the idea just as strong as her anxiety.

Deep down, she knew that the decision has just been made. That no matter how openly they talked about it or expressed themselves, all three Ramseys wished to share their love and happiness with another soul.

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x matilda

[pynkhues]

What do you think is like the most egregious Good Girls errors? As in something they fucked up and ur like...how? Could be a plot point or like a production error. For me, it's that they had Rio shirtless in season 4 and just...didn't have any bullet scars. Despite the whole previous season being dedicated to the repercussions of him getting shot. Three times. Like c'mon. Who was in charge of continuity on that show because I wanna talk.

Oooo, yeah, I think I'd agree that the bullet scars being missing were probably the biggest error for me. They're not just a big fuck up, but a huge missed opportunity for the show – actually both Rio's and Dean's scars were. They were such pivotal moments in the escalation of the series overall, and to those characters' motivations in the subsequent seasons, that to erase them was a disservice to the story and to Rio, Dean and Beth's respective arcs.

Most of the others don't really bother me that much? I think I'm forever more bummed about things that were missed opportunities as opposed to errors – for instance, I'm always gonna be a little frustrated that the character we have the most backstory for is Dean. I would've loved to have known more in particular about Ruby's brothers, Beth and Annie's father, and Rio's parents, all of whom we got exactly 0 information on beyond the fact that they exist. I also get a little sad that s2 and s3 had no scenes of Beth, Ruby and Annie interacting with each other's children, because as we saw through Beth and Ben in 4.12, there was an embarrassment of riches there to explore!

Oh! Actually, I do have another error that I find frustrating, and that's the timeline on Nancy's pregnancy in s2. That's actually less because of the timeline itself, which I find pretty funny really, haha, and more about what it meant for Greg's betrayal and Annie's guilt. To fast track through it so drastically felt like it undermined the weight of it overall, and I feel like there was a huge missed opportunity to use it as a catalyst for more Beth and Annie tension as Beth had just discovered Dean had cheated on her during her own pregnancies too.

So yeah, I think my answer is that I get most frustrated by errors when they dilute tension, characterisation and present missed opportunities rather than just errors. Like, I don't mind errors if they're just massaging a knot away to give us better conflicts, stories or beats – I'd say some of the s1 retconning of Beth and Annie's dad being around for longer than it seems like he was in later seasons is a really good example of that. I don't mind that they ignored throwaway lines of Beth dobbing to their dad about Annie smoking weed as a teenager, because I think the backstory they established in s2 and built on in s3 and s4 was more interesting – but when they replaced interesting conflict with nothing, I find that, to borrow a word off you, haha, a bit egregious.

#set dressing #nbc good girls #gg season 4 #gg season 3 #gg season 2 #gg season 1 #character backgrounds #welcome to my ama

[sweetestlamb]

Caged Bird

Summary: “I should let him go right?” 

Author’s note: Finally back with another chapter, this one was a bit harder for me than the other chapters because writer’s block was a bish and I kept second guessing myself. I erased so many things and I don’t know if I am even proud of this anymore or if it’s any good LOL but I spent all day writing it so I guess I should post it. I’m not losing motivation but life was beating on my door and I feel like this wasn’t as fleshed out as I wanted it to be but I don’t have the time to flesh it out more and I really didn’t want to go another week without writing, it makes me anxious to leave them unattended for so long.  So if you like anything about this let a girl now. 

“You told him?” Sujin glances over at Su-ah from her place on her bed, her phone idle on the bed, she’s trying not to text a certain someone too much but that is proving easier said then done with him messaging her without any discretion or care about appearances. 

Jukyeong looks knowingly at her phone with a soft smile and she hides the small square too embarrassed even though they hadn’t been talking about anything inappropriate, he was teasing her that she wore his sweaters more than he did these days and asking her if she wanted to go shopping with him so she could pick out exactly which sweater she wanted to steal borrow. She rolls her eyes at the dramatic message, she didn’t take that many of his sweaters, he was just overexaggerating as he was wont to do. She folds the sleeve of her borrowed(thank you very much) sweater over her hands and pointedly avoids looking at the vibrating device. 

She has self control. 

But a second vibration makes her flaunter for a minute, wondering if he’s saying something important he hardly ever double texts these days. She reaches for the phone gasping when it’s suddenly snatched out of her reach. 

“Hey-!” her voice trails off bashfully at the glower on Su-ah’s pretty face, that’s her take no shit face, damn. She sits up straighter giving the girl all her attention lest she become more agitated and try to read the messages, that would be too unsettling. They had both already commented on her recent oversized sweaters, coyly trying to get her to admit to who they truly belonged to. She ignored their teasing and jut her nose in the air each time, they already knew and she refused to give them the satisfaction of saying it out loud. 

“Focus on us for one minute. Your boyfriend can wait.” Su-ah states firmly putting her phone on the small desk behind her and she sputters at the comment, red hot flush barreling down her entire body like a wildfire. 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” She denies vehemently, cheeks burning hotter from the nonplussed looks she receives from her two closest friends, Su-ah looks utterly unimpressed and Jukyeong can barely contain the smile spreading on her full lips, she opens her mouth to argue harder needing to smother the jolt of pure bliss that surfaced in her belly at the other girl’s bold proclamation but the words get firmly lodged in her throat. 

His hands tightly wound around hers, his thumb gently caressing the rough skin of her scarred knuckles. The way she didn’t want to pull away or hide from him, he was looking at her, truly seeing her and instead of fear something warmer spread through her veins. 

Those lips on her forehead, the softest sweetest kiss she had ever received in her life. Nobody had ever held her like she was something precious before but that was how he pressed her to his wide chest, her head nuzzled into his fragrant neck as she drowned in his intoxicating scent nervous to breathe him in too much lest she get lost in his spell. 

The deep rumble of his voice as he called her “baby”, she had always rolled her eyes hearing couples use such supercilious nicknames with each other, what was the point? Why did being in a couple have to mean that you lost your name and essentially a piece of your identity? It was stupid and childish and she wanted nothing to do with such a transgression, or so she had believed. 

Until the moment he called her princess. 

What started out as a tease had transformed into something bigger than she had ever expected, she hated it or so she told herself. But when he called her Sujin in the park she felt like a part of her was missing, she wasn’t just Sujin to him anymore. In that moment she had a grand realization she wasn’t losing herself like she had initially thought but rather gaining another layer, she would always be Sujin and that was enough but she could also be his princess, his baby.  

When had she turned into such a sap? This was all his fault. 

“Hello? Sujin? Are you even listening to me? Hey! Are you seriously fantasizing about your boyfriend right now?” She jumps at Su-ah’s loud voice, slapping a frantic hand over her mouth and looking around as if people will materialize out of thin air. 

“Can you stop saying that word, Suho might hear you!” She stage whispers and Su-ah raises a thin eyebrow at her shoving her hand away. 

“Why are you so red? Did something happen between you two, you can’t hide anything from us! What happened to “we’re just friends”? She blushes redder at Su-ah’s quotation marks and Jukyeong leans forward excitedly, “Have things changed? Did you tell him how you feel? Oh my god, did you guys...kiss?!”

Su-ah stills at Jukyeong’s question before vibrating violently in her seat and grabbing her shoulders shaking her back and forth, “Sujin did you lose your lip virginity? Did you let him deflower you?!” 

Sitting stunned and wide eyed, she stares at her friends expectant faces wondering how the conversation became derailed so quickly? She had invited them both over to explain the Baekyung situation and her conversation with Suho’s father but somehow Seojun had become the star of the night. 

“Are you crazy why would you call it that?” She immediately realizes her mistake when both girls turn to look at each other and simultaneously shriek, “She didn’t deny it!,” and she watches in horror as they jump up and starting dancing around the room, then she groans and tugs the hood of the sweater over her head pulling the drawstrings so she is cocooned in the fabric as they start singing off key, “Sujin kissed Seojun! Sujin kissed Seojun!” 

Instinctively she grabs a fluffy pillow and flings it across the room in a perfect arch before it lands with a soft thud on Jukyeong’s head, time stops as they all stare at each other and then it’s a flurry as the girl picks up the pillow launching it back and that is how Sujin gets involved in her first ever pillow fight. There are pillows flying every which way and Su-ah and Jukyeong gang up on her, shoving her into the bed and playfully smacking her on her stomach and back as she curls up in a ball body shaking from her laughter. 

“Tell us everything and we’ll stop hitting you.” Su-ah promises and she shakes her head in refusal, seconds later she feels a grazing on her sides and she knows what’s coming so she tries to draw away but her means of escape are thwarted by Jukyeong grabbing her by the shoulders and pressing her harder into the bed. 

“Su-ah please don’t. This is evil, I thought we were friends.” She pleads staring up at both with beguiling eyes and for a minute she thinks her puppy eyes have succeeded as both release her, but then she feels a barrage of hands on her side and laughter is forcefully pulled from her body as she twitches in a fit, twisting and turning from the hands but to no avail. She feels tears pooling in her eyes from the sensation and this is how Suho finds them, tangled up and breathless from laughter and he stares at them in shock. 

“When you guys are done...doing this can you please respond to Seojun? He thinks you suddenly got into an accident or got kidnapped because you stopped responding to him.” 

Su-ah turns to her with a look of triumph on her mischievous face, “That sounds like boyfriend behavior to me.” 

Suho doesn’t reply except for a twitch in his lip before he slides the door closed behind him, giving them privacy again. 

She tries not to rush to her phone but her eyes find their eye over to the device all the way across the room, maybe if she runs really quickly she can make it past the two girls and lock herself in the bathroom? 

“I know that look. Whatever crazy plot you’re cooking up is unnecessary, you can have your phone back. I know you two hate to be apart,” Su-ah teases leaning over and then handing her the phone, she stares at it worried that accepting it will be admittance to Su-ah’s claims she hesitates to take it. 

Su-ah takes the choice away from her when she places the phone in her outreached hands, “Don’t keep him waiting.” She holds the phone flat in her palms looking up at both her friends, they have identical smiles on their faces and warmth blossoms in her belly. 

She’s happy, this is what happiness feels like. 

But she’s also overwhelming nervous, she has never done this before, never had someone who made her feel this way. Was it supposed to be this terrifying? Putting the phone down resolutely she turns to her best friends needing their advice. 

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” She admits, feeling small and more than a little bit lost. Instantly she is squished in the middle as they both come to sit by her sandwiching her in between them, twin arms thrown over her shoulders. 

“We know you’re scared but he likes you, everyone can see that. When you’re in a room together it’s like he doesn’t see anyone else, you are always his focal point.” Jukyeong whispers softly placing her head on her shoulder and she wants to deny that but too many images flash in her mind of him doing just that, him dropping everything and racing to her even in the beginning when she had been a mess and constantly pushed him away. Intimate moments at lunch where his eyes hardly leave her as he ardently watches her eat the food that he had prepared just for her, despite countless girls watching him and squealing his name in the distance. 

Everyone had eyes for him, but he only had eyes for....her. 

“What if all of this becomes too much for him and he wants someone normal? Someone who doesn’t have all my baggage? Being with me must get exhausting.” She’s still talking about Seojun but a small piece of her is also directing this statement to them, was being her friend as exhausting? Did they ever consider just abandoning her and finding someone who didn’t have such tiresome issues? 

“You still don’t understand do you?” 

She turns towards Su-ah who blinks wet eyes at her and suddenly her eyes feel moist too. 

“Understand what?” 

“How much you mean to us. All of us. Nobody could ever replace you, we don’t care about your baggage, we want to help you carry it all.” 

She blinks and stares straight ahead, scared of breaking apart. 

Is that how Seojun felt too? Was she worth the trouble to him too? 

When had her life ever been so simple?

They all jump when her phone vibrates again and this time she doesn’t hesitate immediately picking it up, expecting to see another message from the boy in question but instead a new number appears. She stares blankly at first before suddenly recognizing the number. 

“Who’s that?” Su-ah questions, staring at her phone with pursed lips and she swipes the message open. 

Dinner tonight? 

It feels strange to see that message beneath Seojun’s and she finds herself closing it without responding and opening Seojun’s plethora of messages instead. 

I was just joking you can steal all my sweaters. 

Are you still there?

Princess?

Can you answer me so I know you’re alive? 

He is so dramatic, she doesn’t message him for ten minutes and he’s already thinking the worst but then she remembers all the times he has found her helpless and trembling in the rain and his fear makes more sense. Smiling in understanding she finally replies, I’m okay you worrywart. Su-ah and Jukyeong are here, I got distracted. 

ignoring social norm he responds to her immediately not the least bit concerned with appearing too invested. 

Don’t scare me like that. I was about to come over. 

“Sujin are you sure Seojun is okay with you going on dates with Baekyung, that’s who text you right?” Her head snaps up at the question, she bites her lip in consideration. 

“He said he understood. He knows I’m only doing it to help him. But tonight is the last time.” 

She shouldn’t be concerning herself with anyone else’s problems, hers were enough on their own. But she couldn’t help it, the other boy was going through the same ordeal as her and she saw herself in his cold numb eyes, he was existing instead of living. She knew what that felt like. She understood him all too well. 

“Why does he need your help?” Jukyeong asks innocently and she stills before shaking her head, “It’s not my story to tell.” 

They don’t ask anymore questions and she’s grateful for that. 

She has to get ready for her date, she can’t help but wish it was with someone else. She doesn’t even want to call it a date, now that she has someone that she wants to do this all with. 

She looks beautiful, she always does and he wonders if he might have genuinely liked her if they met under different circumstances? He had never learned what it meant to care for someone, too busy trying to survive but she understood him, they had so much in common. He didn’t like her-his heart wasn’t capable of such emotions he was convinced- but he felt a certain kinship that he’d never felt before with anyone else, maybe they were meant to met each other. 

Could she be his destiny? 

“I need to talk to you.” He stares at her across the table looking effortlessly elegant and he takes a sip of his water, something akin to dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Talk then,” he answers gruffier than he intended but he can see the apology on her face and his vicious side is making an appearance in anticipation of whatever she wants to say to him. She stares at him for a long time and he wonders if she is second guessing or simply searching for the right words, annoyance surges in the wake of her hesitation he is not some child who needs sugared words or placation. “Just say it already,” he says snarkily and her eyes harden at his harsh tone, that’s more like it he hates to be pitied. 

“This is our last...gathering. I can’t help you anymore. I am doing something about my situation and I think you should too.” 

Rage builds up in his veins until he can see nothing but red, he thought he finally found someone who understood but here she was judging him and already abandoning him and all for what, some pretty boy idiot who would never understand what it meant to struggle? They were two sides of the same coin and nobody could ever truly love them, how could she not see that? At birth they had been deemed unlovable by their own parents and there was no way to undo that fate, it was best to just accept the hand they had been dealt. 

“Do you think he really likes you?” He asks meanly sneering at her with a curled lip, this reminds him too much of Dan-oh, of that stinging rejection and the way she wanted nothing to do with him- too lost in her fucking precious Haru-ah and he can’t stop the vicious words that are falling from his mouth, “You’re just a charity case to him. Like a sick puppy he found outside, he doesn’t like you he just feels sorry for you. It’s pathethic.” 

The words land exactly how he intended. 

She looks angry but that fades to consternation and then doubt builds in her eyes and he knows he was successful, he has planted a seed of doubt in her mind and that will only manifest bigger and bigger until she cracks under the pressure.  

“You’re wrong.” She states but she doesn’t sound certain, he can hear the question at the end and he smiles mentally. He almost feels bad but then the image of the other boy smiling with his perfect family flashes in his mind and any guilt he feels melts away. Why should he have it all when he, Baekyung had nothing? 

“I’m not. You’re just a phase for him, he probably think he’s being nice pretending to like you. I’ve seen all those girls around him, why would he want someone whose weak broken and whose parents don't even want her? Don’t be naïve, it’s beneath you Sujin. People like us need to know our place.” 

He stifles the little voice in the back of his mind that questions why he’s pushing away someone who only wants to be free, why did she get to escape the prison that they both had been locked in for so many years? Why couldn’t she just accept that they didn’t deserve anyone else and just be with him? Why was he always the last possible choice? 

She doesn’t say another word, opening her wallet and throwing down enough money to cover the meal that hasn’t even been brought out yet. The cold look she shoots his way stops him from saying anything, he can see the hurt in her eyes and it’s twisted but he feels a tinge of satisfaction at her expression. 

He watches her walk away feeling no better than his father, when had he become such a monster and why didn’t it scare him more? 

What did that say about him? 

The sound of the doorbell echoes through the spacious house and she wonders if it’s Sujin, and that mere possibility is enough to make her race to the door before her husband can make his way from his seclusion in his study. Most day he didn’t even bother coming out and when he did he didn’t even acknowledge her, it was heaven but it also left her guarded waiting from him to explode and hit her. It was like living in a landmine, she walked lightly as to not be heard. 

The face on the other side of the door completely shocks her. 

Lee Joo-Hun stands there, looking determined and she stares blankly at him. It has been months since their families have shared a meal together, she saw his visible discomfort every time her husband would berate her or Sujin. Many people showed discomfort but few did anything to help them, it was human nature after all. 

Better you than me. 

She forces a brittle smile to form on her face. Playing the role of happy wife easily, its a role she has been cultivating for years. 

“Oh. I didn’t know you had plans with my husband today. Come on in.” She notices that there is a certain unexplained tension in his shoulders but after only a moment’s pause he nods before stepping over the threshold, slipping off his expensive loafers and not bothering to put on the slippers they have placed for guest. Maybe he doesn’t plan to stay for long. 

“I’ll go get him,” she says softly wanting to do nothing of the sort, she has not been on his radar as of late and she had every intention to keep things that way but she can’t show this to their guest. Her husband would be livid if she did anything to harm his relationship with someone he saw as a beneficial business partner. She’s unprepared for the hand that stops her, tight around her wrist she has to force herself not to flinch at the sudden touch. 

When she looks back, his eyes are wide and they penetrate through her and she snatches her hand back a fear rippling through her at his stare, he’s looking right through her like she’s made of glass. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes and she smiles nervously waving him off, “I was just surprised you didn’t do anything wrong.” But he’s peering at her like he knows everything racing through her mind and she has to glance away, it’s all a bit too much and suddenly the study door opens and all the air is siphoned from the room as her husband exits the room, his face changing quickly when he notices that they have a guest, she knows that the rage that first appeared will make return once they are alone again. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that we had a guest?” The inquiry is said innocuously enough, he has long mastered repressing his rage in front of others but she can see the anger in his brows. 

Before she can answer, Joo-hun stands between them blocking her completely from her husband’s gaze. 

“Let’s talk.” Her husband raises a brow at the commanding tone and she can read him as easily as a book, he’s furious at being spoken to in such a tone but the other man doesn’t give him an opportunity to disobey because he’s already walking into the study. Her husband glares at her as if she is to blame before disappearing into the room and shutting the door in her face. 

Without a conscious thought she presses her ear against the door but the wood is solid and she can barely hear anything and she leans back about to admit defeat but then the voices raise becoming progressively louder and she hears her husband shout, tone bristling with fury, “How dare you threaten me in my own home!” and the loud booming voice of Joo-hun rings out, “You disgust me and I will do everything imaginable to make sure you end up where you belong.”

The temperature drops at those chilling words and she takes a step back at the sound of movement behind the door, once again coming face to face with the man.

His expression softens when he sees her but she can still see a glint of hardness beneath the surface. He had expressive eyes, they were part of the reason he had been such a celebrated actor. 

He knows. 

She’s certain now, he knows what a monster she is. 

If her husband deserves to suffer then so does she for everything she has done to her poor little girl, she was just as culpable if not more. If only she hadn’t been a coward and left when he first started hitting her, if only she had gone through with the abortion. She had selfishly brought a child into this world knowing that their life would be hell just like hers because she was scared to be alone. She wasn’t a mother, she wasn’t even fit to be called a human at this point and the look he gives her makes her feel like scum on the bottom of his shoe. 

“I’m leaving.” He announces walking back over to his shoes, and she had been right he wasn’t planning on staying long. 

A loud bang suddenly fills the empty void, her husbands scream are not too far behind as he flings books and whatever he can get his hands on into the walls. 

She knows what fate awaits her tonight. 

This is her punishment and it’s exactly what a stain like her deserves. 

She stares absently at the ground, the sound of the door knob turning reaching her ears and she knows that she’s going to be alone again. The door opens and she sighs, waiting to hear the door close knowing that in seconds she will be a whimpering mess on the ground. 

But the sound never comes, and she looks up to see what’s stopping him and his eyes are still hard but not as sharp. 

“Come with me.” 

She hears the word but the sentence does not compute and it takes a moment for her to process what he just said, her mind tells her that surely she heard him wrong. There’s no way he said what she thought he said. 

But then he reaches out a hand and she stares at his palm. 

“Why would you want to help me? I’m not a victim. I knew what he was doing, I knew everything and I did nothing. I am just as bad as him. She hates me too. I didn’t protect her.” 

It’s the truth, she lost the right of calling herself a victim as she watched her husband step on her seven year old daughter and her first thought was thank goodness it’s not me. That was the day the light left Sujin’s eyes but hope didn’t fade completely not yet, but each time her father hit her those huge eyes would look her way and each time her heart constricted but helplessness stopped her from acting. It took years but all that youthful hope was extinguished and she never heard that word again, “mother” it seemed fitting since she had never been a mother to the girl. 

“I don’t understand why you did what you did. But it’s not my place to judge, despite what you think you are a victim and I am done turning a blind eye. Staying here won’t help Sujin, she needs her mother.” 

Sujin needs her? That sounds laughable but then a distant conversation resurfaces in her memory and she feels frustrated tears welling in her eyes. 

“What does it mean to be a mother? I can’t answer that question for you but the fact that you’re asking that means you want to try, so do that. Try your best and apologize when you’re wrong. That’s all mothers can do.” 

The woman looked so fragile laying in the hospital bed but the strength of her words were undeniable, she didn’t know what made her visit she knew if her husband caught her there would be retribution but she couldn’t stay away. She didn’t even have an excuse and they simply stared at each other before the other woman smiled at her and motioned for her to sit on the chair, she had done so without question. 

There were flowers all over the room, both fresh and old. 

“Someone must really love you.” She had said and she watched jealously as a maternal smile graced her face, she could almost feel the motherly pride. 

“Sometimes my son gets carried away.” 

The boy on the motorcycle, she had thought he was just a delinquent but the amount of flowers in the room said otherwise.

That was ultimately what pushed her to ask the silly question: what does it mean to be a mother? 

She had never known, her own mother had treated her like a bargaining chip that would lead to the betterment of her own life, naming her fortune only to force her to have anything but that in her life. 

The woman had smiled delicately before answering her. 

The words swirled around like a tornado in her mind, she hadn’t expected such a simple answer. 

“Are you coming?” Joo-hun’s voice brings her back to reality and she thinks about Sujin and the day she was born and how small and vulnerable she looked laying in her arms as they both cried, wailing their hearts out. 

She hadn’t known what it meant to be a mother back then and she’s no closer to knowing now but she knows that she wants to try, Sujin might never forgive her for what she did and she wouldn’t blame her. But she still wanted to try, even if it took her whole life she would spend it trying to repent for all her sins. 

She takes one small step forward, the shackles that have been tightened around her body her whole life crumbling in the face of her renewed hope.  

I want to try. 

She isn’t wearing his sweater, it’s pitiful but that’s the first thing he notices when he sees Sujin in the morning, she’s walking alone and he can’t stop the joy that shoots through him at the observation it was never easy to see her arrive with the other boy despite knowing the truth. But today the encroacher is nowhere to be seen and he settles the kickstand of his motorcycle before rushing over to her, without thinking he wraps an arm around her shoulder but then he feels her body tighten at the unexpected touch, “Relax, it’s just me,” he whispers airily but to his disappointment her body becomes more rigid at his words. 

He immediately removes his arm, moving out of her personal space- not understanding what exactly is going on but still not wanting to be the source of her discomfort. 

He shifts apprehensively, already wrecking his brain to think of what he might have done to warrant such a bitter cold reception from her but coming up emptyhanded. So instead of trying to guess and create his own reasons, he asks her, “Are you okay? Did I do something?” 

He can tell she’s going to lie before she even opens her mouth, he watches the swarm of emotions play across her face before she settles on nonchalance, “No. I’m fine, you surprised me. I don’t want to upset your fangirls so I think it’s best if we avoid each other at school.” He stares at her in shock, wondering if this is the same girl who he held on the bench just days ago her lips soft on his cheek and her perfume filling his senses? 

“I already told you I don’t care about them. You already know that I only care about yo-” 

“Stop. I can’t do this right now I need space, I have to go.” She interrupts him and after a long gaze she stalks away and he wants to follow her, nothing she’s doing is making any sense not after everything they’ve been through. He’d given her everything he could offer and it still wasn’t enough, she was still walking away and he was tired of chasing her, if it was that easy to walk away from him time and time again then maybe he was fighting a losing battle. 

He turns around, walking the other direction. 

He misses the dark eyes that follow him over a small shoulder. He doesn’t look back. This time he chooses self-preservation. 

He doesn’t go to lunch, unable to bear the thought of sitting across from Sujin and pretending that he’s okay when he feels like a hollow fruit. So he escapes to the roof top and instant regret fills him as he remembers all those months ago when he had held the other on this very roof, it had been so different from their hug at the hospital and the hug in the rain. Those hugs were filled with what he thought was affection, but now he doesn’t really know. He can’t understand why she’s suddenly pushing him away again when he thought they had overcome all the barriers between them. 

Was it because of her father? Had she only kept him by her side because he had helped her but now that Suho and his father were on her side she realized that she no longer needed him? It pains him to imagine that this could be true but the thought rolls around in his thoughts until he starts to believe it, that has to be it. Was he that expendable to her? 

Clearly the answer was, yes. 

The rooftop door suddenly bangs open and he hates his heart for speeding up, as he turns around piteously hoping to see her. HIs heart plummets when he’s greeted by a smiling face that’s nowhere as beautiful as the one he hoped to see, he tries futilely to hide his disappointment with a smirk. 

He recognizes the girl as one of the people who have confessed to him in the past months, she wasn’t as nervous as the others but it had taken her a few minutes to stutter the words out and he had gently turned her down, he wasn’t cruel because he knew how terrifying it was liking someone and not knowing if it was reciprocated. 

She shuffles anxiously on her feet and he wonders how she knew he was up here. Sometimes the girls at school made him uneasy, their fixation with him wasn’t normal. 

He watches at she inhales deeply before looking at him with an unwavering gaze. 

“I know that you said that you liked someone else and I respect that. But I haven’t seen you dating anyone and I just like you so much you’re all I can think about and .....Cantyoujustgivemeachanceifshedoesntlikeyouback?” 

It takes an extra moment to decipher what she said with the rapid speed that she expels the words and he stares at her, her breathe coming out in short winded puffs like she just ran a marathon. 

He steps forward purposely, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder before answering her, thoughts of Sujin’s sudden rejection permeating his mind. 

She walks away stunned by his reply and he doesn’t go down until the bell rings, he still isn’t prepared to be in the same room as Sujin but he can’t avoid her forever. 

The classroom is abuzz, he can hear excited voices as he walks down the hallway and he wonders what bit of gossip has their attention now, he slides the door open only to feel all eyes land on him. The class goes silent before suddenly he’s being bombarded with questions. 

“Is it true?” 

“Why her? I liked you before she did.” 

“Are you finally going to get a girlfriend? It’s not fair you shouldn’t only date one person oppa.” 

He ignores them all sliding into his seat and dropping his head onto the table, when they realize that he has no plans of answering their invasive prompts they go back to gossiping about him as if he’s not sitting right there. 

He rubs his temple, trying to stop the head ache he can feel forming but he knows that it’s already too late. 

The energy shifts in the room and without looking up he already knows why, he can hear the telltale clicks of her shoes on the floor. 

He hears Su-ah’s voice shortly after, “What are you all so excited about? Did something happen?” 

It’s vindictive but he wants them to hear the gossip so he finally looks up, eyes settled on Sujin who is already looking at him.

“Oh! Su-ah it’s the saddest news, Han Seojun is getting a girlfriend. He finally accepted a confession.” A girl whose name he doesn’t know wails as if her life is over and he watches the confusion morph on Su-ah’s face before he glances over at Sujin and she looks devastated and it suddenly he feels sick instead, what is he doing finding enjoyment in this? 

He can’t hold her gaze, he doesn’t know what the look on her face means and he doesn’t want to analyze it, he’s done doing this.   

“It’s just rumors.” Su-ah repeats this over and over like a mantra, but she can’t hear a word that the other girl is saying all she can think about is Seojun with someone else. She imagines him smiling and holding someone else, cradling their cheek as he kisses their forehead and wrapping them in his too big sweater while beaming down at them and it makes her rush to the bathroom, water scalding her hands before she can even think about what she’s doing. 

“Sujin no!” Jukyeong snatches her hand away from the too hot water and she only fights her for a moment before lets herself be pulled away, losing all her fight. 

“Calm down Sujin, talk to us. What happened between you two?” Su-ah asks firmly and gently and she can’t stop the diarrhea of words that explode from her mouth as she tells them everything, Baekyung and how much his words stuck in her mind and her doubts about Seojun and whether she could truly be loved by anyone much less someone as coveted as him. What right did she have to drag him down? 

He might like her now, think that he was aiding someone helpless but was that all this was? Was she just something to soothe his ego? 

“Do you really feel that way?”

She jumps at the harshness in Jukyeong’s tone, she has never heard the other girl talk like this before. She has never been anything but kind when speaking to her, the tone makes her head spin. 

“What?” She replies at a loss for words. 

“Do you really think that’s true? Do you believe the words you are saying right now?” Jukyeong presses harder and she stalls at her interrogation, not knowing what she thinks anymore she can barely trust her emotions- they change too quickly without her permission or consent. It makes her miss the days when she felt nothing, numbness overwriting all these pesky feelings. 

“I...I...I don’t know.” 

The silence drags on before she hears Jukyeong sigh heavily, “Then I think you should let him go.”

It’s the last thing she expects to hear especially from the ever optimistic girl and acid runs through her body at the mere suggestion. 

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t fair Sujin, you can’t play with someone like this. You can’t push him away and then get jealous when someone else shows interest, he’s not some toy that you can pick up whenever you see fit. He is a person, who really cares about you. If you still don’t know what you feel for him then maybe it’s best to let him go.” 

She turns to look at Su-ah hopeful that the other girl will say the opposite, will implore her to fight for Seojun. She’s crushed when she sees a similar look on Su-ah’s face. It’s a mix of exasperation and pity, she hates it. 

They both think that she should let Seojun go. 

She leaves the bathroom with nothing in her mind, walking aimlessly back to class taking her seat and robotically pulling out her notebook. She doesn’t hear one word that the teacher says for the rest of the time, her heartbeat wildly thumping in her chest. 

When class ends it takes Su-ah calling her name a few times to break her from her stupor. 

“It’s time to go home.” 

“Oh.” She starts to put her books away in her bag, dropping one when Seojun walks past her table without a sideways glance, it’s like they are strangers again and that makes her want to scream because this was all her fault. 

“Wait.” 

She can’t bring herself to speak the word aloud and he leaves, walking away from her just like she had this very morning. 

He’s already speeding off on his motorcycle when she gets outside and she sees a girl beaming at his back, surrounded by a group of girls who are congratulating her and telling her how jealous they are. 

That must be her, the lucky girl. 

The one that had replaced her so easily. She stomps away ignoring Su-ah and Jukyeong’s cries of her name. She knows she has no right, none at all but she does it anyway she has to know if this is really the end. 

That’s how she finds herself outside of his apartment, staring at his motorcycle the proof that he is here and not out with the girl from school, it makes the unease in her stomach unfurl slightly. Staring up at the looming building she tries to think of what she can say to him, she should listen to Jukyeong what she was doing wasn’t fair but she can’t lose him, she had undid all the good in one fleeting moment because she didn’t trust them. Baekyung had said the words but she was the one who chose to believe them, the one that let those words wedge a divide between them and for that she was solely to blame. 

Saying sorry wouldn’t nearly be enough, but that’s all she can think of as she pushes the door open and calls for the elevator. 

The ride has never felt that long all the other times she has visited his apartment, but today it feels like an eternity but when she reaches his floor it feels too soon and she’s not ready. 

Which is exactly why the universe gives her no warning and as the doors open she meets his eyes, he looks notably surprised to see her there and takes a step back in his shock. 

Once she recovers from her own shock, she takes in his attire he’s no longer wearing his uniform- dressed in all black from head to toe like a grim reaper and she wonders if grim reapers are supposed to be that hot, absently she steps out of the elevator before the doors can close between them. Her tongue feels huge in her mouth as she openly gapes at him. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Where are you going?”

Their questions collide and his gaze sharpens once he processes her words, she knows she has no right to question him about anything and his cold look echoes that very sentiment. 

He scoffs at her and tries to circumvent around her and she feels the floodgates opening up in the face of his blatant disregard, “I know you’re tired of hearing this but I’m sorry.” 

His expression barely changes, as he folds his arms peering down at her. 

“Okay.” 

He tries to walk around her once more and this time she’s the one to invade his personal space, gripping his elbow to stop him from walking away from her. She has an irrational fear that if he walks away that this will be her last chance, it makes her let down her guard fully terrified she’ll never get another opportunity. 

“I was scared, that once you realized that I was always going to be this broken you wouldn’t want me anymore. Even if he goes to jail I’m always going to be like this, a broken fucking mess and how can I ask anyone else to deal with that? How can I ask you to give up on having a normal relationship with someone who won’t need therapy for the rest of their lives? I should give you up, everyone is right. I don’t deserve you. I don’t.” 

Despite her rapid blinking a few stray tears escape her tight hold and she watches the wall he put up around his heart gradually start to stilt away as his eyes opens up in the face of her palpable dismay. 

“Sujin.”

“Please let me finish, if I don’t say it now I’m scared I never will.”

He stares at her before nodding slowly. 

She takes a deep breathe before continuing, “I’m not good girlfriend material, no don’t argue I’m not. I will doubt us all the time and I won’t always talk to you about my feelings because I’ve spent so many years ignoring them, I only spoke to you last time because it involved your family. I knew I couldn’t keep that from you but this didn’t seem as important. I should be able to handle it on my own, I’m not a baby. I’m too impulsive and selfish and a coward and....I shouldn’t burden anyone with dating me.”

It looks like it’s taking everything in him not to rebuttal, because when it really matters he always listens to her. 

“I know that I haven’t made this easy on you and I should have just let things be-let you be with someone normal, but I can’t and I know why, I’ve always known why but I was too scared to admit it. I can’t just be friends with you anymore.....I want more.” 

She can’t believe it but the words are now out in the universe, the ones that she has been thinking for months and swallowing every time he showed her how much he cared about her, and he looks taken back by her confession, she hadn’t planned on saying that when she showed up but now it feels stupid to keep it to herself, if she’s going to lose him then she might as well be honest, at least once in her life. 

“Can I speak now?” 

She doesn’t know if she’s ready to hear what he has to say, but it’s only right since he listened to her, taking a centering breathe she nods at his inquiry preparing herself for the worst. 

“You are selfish.” 

Her heart sinks at his words, that isn’t a good start and even though he is merely echoing her words it burns deeper to hear them from him. 

“And impulsive and so damn confusing, you’re hot and then you’re so damn cold and I’m only human Sujin I can’t just pick myself up after you push me away every time, I get hurt too.”

She tries not to bristle at his tone and the lack of nicknames, feeling her heart sink into her stomach now. 

“When that girl confessed to be do you want to know what I thought?” 

She blinks at the sudden change in topic and her immediate answer is no, she does not want to know at all but he doesn’t even give her a moment to reply before he’s answering his own question. 

“I thought she is so straightforward and this is so different, I don’t have to guess about her feelings she wears them on her sleeve, this is so much easier being with her would be so much easier.” 

Her first real confession and rejection all in one day. She has always been an overachiever and it’s only fitting that this would be no different, blinking harshly she forces the tears to stop she has no right to make him feel guilty, everything he said was right and she couldn’t blame him for choosing the path of least resistance. 

“Thank you. For everything, I really mean it.” She bows at him before turning around, she can’t stay here for another minute not knowing that he’s no longer hers and probably never was in the first place. 

It’s all too cruel. 

She presses the button, she should just take the stairs but this will buy her a few extra minutes with him, it’s pitiable but she wants to savor every remaining moments. 

The elevator arrives, gleaming metal doors sliding open and she steps inside ready to go home and cry her eyes out. 

But then a large hands wraps around her wrist and she’s suddenly tugged backwards her back slamming into his chest. 

“Where are you going? Did I say I was finished?” His voice is rough in her ears and she can feel the rapid beat of his heart through his skin, it amps up her own racing heart too scared to even hope but she feels brittle and unsteady his body is the only thing keeping her upright. 

“Dating someone else would be easier, but the thing is I don’t want easy. I’ve never wanted easy, I just wanted you in anyway that I could have you. So why are you trying to “set me free”? Fuck that self sacrificing bullshit, you said it yourself you’re selfish so hold on to me and don’t let me go, when you have doubts hold on to me tighter. I’m not some caged bird that you’ve imprisoned, I’m the guy who likes you and that’s not going to change because you pushed me away. Do you feel feel that? That’s fear. You’re scared to lose me. Good, remember this feeling and how much it makes your heart ache and hold on to me tighter.”

She hiccups at his words, tears pouring down her cheeks now and she finds herself turning in his arms before her brain can catch up, relief washing over her so profoundly she sways a little on her feet. 

He has a shit eating grinning on his face as he stares down at her. 

“You didn’t accept her confession.”

He rolls his eyes at the statement, pulling her closer although there is no space left between them. 

“No I turned her down again but some girls saw us come from the roof top together and they started spreading rumors anyway and I couldn’t be bothered to stop them.” 

She stares unimpressed at him, reading between his lines and feeling foolish because she fell right into his trap. 

“You knew it would make me jealous.” 

He shrugs noncommittedly, “I hoped it would help bring you to your senses.” 

Has she been brought to her senses, she’s not sure she feels crazier than before his words echoing in her brain and she’s moving before she even knows what her intentions are, his smile starts to slip away and he releases her and makes an apprehensive retreat backwards and she automatically follows him, he steps back, she steps forward, another step back and she steps forward again, they do this dance until he’s pressed against the wall with nowhere else to run. 

“Why are you running?” 

He blinks looking dazed and she takes that opportunity to move in closer, cradling his face in her hands before leaning her head forward until only an inch separates them, a scratching noise comes from the wall and when she glances down she can see his nails digging into the paint, she hums at the sight and the implications. 

She was clawing at his resolve.  

Skin vibrating like a livewire she gently pulls him down, until they are eye level and their breaths are curling in the miniscule space between them, those feline eyes are darting all over her face before they land on her lips, she sinks her hands deeper into his hair. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

She has to ask one last time, this all feels like a dream and she’s terrified of waking up and finding that she imagined this all. 

He doesn’t answer at first, too busy staring a hole through her face but she waits patiently, remembering all the times he had waited for her. 

“What?”

“Can I really keep you? Do you really want to be mine?” 

It’s so cheesy and sappy and all kinds of ridiculous, nothing that she ever imagined for herself because she never thought anyone would make her want to say these kind of sweet nothings but here they are- and there’s no turning back now she waits for his reply with bated breath and this time he barely pauses for a second instantly answering, “I’ve been yours this whole time. Are you mine though can you let me in?” 

When you have doubts, hold on to me tighter. 

She drags him the rest of the distance between them, her lips barely grazing his own and it’s crazy because her lips are already on his, soft flesh upon flesh but it takes a moment to realize that she’s actually kissing him, she is kissing Han Seojun. They are kissing. 

She has no idea what she’s doing and she leans onto her tiptoes pressing more firmly against his mouth, imitating the kisses she has seen on tv and from couples in the hallway at school twisting her head to find a better angle but something still feels wrong and it takes another moment to realize what’s wrong. 

He is frozen on the wall, completely still under her ministrations. 

And she immediately pulls away, apologetic and feeling bone deep shame. 

“I’m sorry! I had no right to spring that on you, you barely forgave me and I did that. It won’t happen again, I promise.” 

His eyes are glossy and his cheeks are so red and it’s almost too beautiful to look at, how was she not supposed to kiss him when he was looking like that?

“Don’t apologize, you just made my brain short circuit. Come here.”  

She blushes bright at his too honest admittance, feeling giddy from the power that she seems to have over him. She had been scared that her inexperience would be off-putting for him. 

He tugs her back, letting her body block him in against the wall and she gasps at the warmth of his body he’s so hot even through the layers of clothes separating them. Her breath hitches when he starts to lean back down and this time when their lips meet it feels like the universe has righted itself, the stars and the moon are aligned and something clicks inside her like a gear snapping into its rightful place. 

It’s a simple kiss, a mere press of lips to lips but it is perfect and sweet- nothing like what she imagined because her mind could never fathom something so ideal, the softness of his mouth on hers is enough to make her toes curl and when he wraps his arms around her waist, one hand tight on her back as he eliminates any space between them dragging her impossibly close, she sighs unable to contain her delight as a smile works its way across her lips. He chuckles into the soft press of their first kiss and she can’t help the answering giggle that she lets out, to anyone else they would look deranged but she doesn’t care, this was real. 

He breaks away only to pepper kisses all over her face- first her forehead then her cheeks, her nose and even her chin, all left warm in the wake-  and she blushes under his passionate and diligent attention before grabbing his face and kissing him harder on those plush red lips, hands tight on his hair as she tastes him for the first time. He’s intoxicating and she knows she can never go back to being just friends, not when his flavor is thick on her tongue and she knows what his moans taste like.

Not when his hands are bruising tight on her waist and his scent is coiling around her like a blanket that she never wants to be without. 

She was allowed to have this and she would relish every minute. 

He sits awkwardly on the couch with the woman he has only ever seen a handful of times, when his father had called him and asked for a favor he had never expected this. He had been completely flabbergasted to see the woman on his doorstep but stepped back to give her entrance, nonetheless. 

He knew that his father meant well, was hoping that the two would be able to reconcile like they had but he was forgetting how much they fought before getting to where they were now. It had been an arduous path to restoring their broken relationship and he feared that Sujin and her mother had differences that might be irreconcilable . 

She looks like Sujin, just more weathered and beaten down by life in her expensive clothes and jewelry none of it doing anything to hide the sadness that wafts off her in ebbs and waves. He tried calling the other girl several times but to no avail as he reached her voicemail over and over again, he knows that there is no way this can end well but he couldn’t kick the woman out either, not to be with that sadistic bastard. 

“I should go. She won’t be happy to see me.” She states matter of fact and he’s not a good enough liar to try to argue with her so he says nothing at all, staring at the floor in silence. 

Then the jiggle of keys reach his ears and they both sit taller, gazing at each other wild eyed as the door pushes open. 

Sujin looks blindingly happy, a wide smile stretched across her face and he contemplates throwing a blanket over the woman’s head to hide her- just so the girl can enjoy a few more seconds of happiness but it’s already too late, Sujin slips off her shoes putting on her slippers and walking over to him, her eyes are still on the ground and then she finally looks up and all the air is sucked out of the room. 

All of the joy and exuberance that had previously been imbedded in her pores dissipates and he sees a look so numb, it feels like he’s seeing the Sujin from months ago cold and shivering in Seojun’s arm, the one that didn’t want to live and saw her life as expendable. 

He wonders if he did the right thing? Would she ever forgive him for this? 

She doesn’t say a word, throwing the keys on the table and sprinting back to her shoes, haphazardly stuffing her feet back into them and shooting him one final look of betrayal that makes his blood turn to ice before she slams the door behind her, the sound so powerful the walls vibrate. 

“She hates me.” 

From that look on her face, her mother wasn’t the only one. 

#true beauty #junjin #bmtl #han seojun #kang sujin #chapter 11 #more teen angst #oops

[certifiedskywalker]

Being Best Friends with Klaus Hargreeves Would Include...

Anonymous said: Hey, not sure if you've done anything similar to this before but could I request 'Being best friends with Klaus Hargreeves would include...' I love your blog, thank you! x

I’m baaaaaaack (at least for a bit!)! Enjoy and cut me some slack as it’s been a while since I’ve written fanfiction; especially TUA fanfic!

It’s not entirely his own fault but Klaus is not the greatest influence.

So if you have a rather cautious personality, be prepared to do things far outside of your comfort zone.

If you’re more attuned to Klaus’ chaos, be prepared to get on the wildest ride of your life and probably definitely get into trouble.

If chaos is your thing you might become more cautious around Klaus! Who knows!

Either way you lean, you’re going to get used to the turbulence that comes with Klaus.

Perhaps that’s why you’re so close to begin with.

When he was younger, Klaus was rebellious to combat the structure of his Father’s schedules and training regimes.

Sadly, he could never really rebel enough to free himself entirely.

Aside from his brothers and sisters, Klaus didn’t have friends. 

So, when he met you, he dived in head first; all the good, bad, and the ugly.

It was after what Klaus remembers/believes was his first big bender when he found himself in a coffee shop, studying the menu with glossy eyes. 

It was one of your first jobs, working as a barista/baker. 

Klaus was wearing a long, faux fur line jacket, a pink crop top, and jorts (jean shorts). 

Because of his piece-meal outfit, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

That and he was holding up the line as he debated what he had the munchies for. 

“What would you get…”

“What?” You raised your brows at him, surprised he finally spoke up.

“What would you get if you had stayed up for three days straight, wine tasti-wine hoarding really, and raving in the best clubs of the city?”

“An aspirin and a chai latte probably.”

“Ah! Yes! A chai latte sounds ammaazing right now. Maybe a cookie too.”

“Snickerdoodle?”

“It’s like you can read my mind! Wait, can you? At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

After he got his cookie and his chai latte, the strangely dressed man made himself comfortable in the coffee shop.

After a few hours, Klaus was what your manager considered loitering.

Hell, after the last few hours of your shift and Klaus still lingered, your manager offered to walk you to your car.

“I think he’s just…”

You looked over and saw him, Klaus, idly twirling a pair of sunglasses between his fingers.

“...he’s just lost.”

When you had gathered your things and cleaned up after your shift, you wandered over to where he sat.

It took a moment before he took notice of you but when he did, he stood up quickly.

“Hey you,” he said in a rushed breath (somehow it still sounded flirtatious). 

“Hey, uh, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh! What a lovely name!”

He extended his hand to you and you finally saw the tattoos on his palm.

“I’m Klaus, my dear. Care for an adventure?”

That first ‘adventure’ was one that you would remember forever.

Klaus took you to his favorite second-hand shop and you thrifted horrendous articles of clothing.

You still have an incredibly chunky, cable-knit sweater from that day; when you miss Klaus, you wear it.

Klaus bought two wigs, decent wigs, with what money he had.

Outside, Klaus turned to you and grinned.

“Put this on, will you?”

“Pink isn’t re-”

He was already tugging the wig over your head.

“Pink is so your color, trust me,” he gestured to himself, “I know style.”

When he donned the other, curly haired, wig, Klaus led you to an array of establishments with less than welcoming atmospheres where you ‘borrowed’ some merchandise.

Klaus has not mercy for racist or homophobic stores/companies and ‘borrows’ from them often. 

Klaus nearly got caught, he lost his wig in the fray.

You had never felt more alive.

You had never smiled wider.

It was thrilling; he was thrilling. 

But he wasn’t thrilling all the time. 

After that day, you and Klaus were attached to the hip and you learned there were other parts to him outside of the bubbling, endearing chaos.

His addictions became startlingly apparent.

During his many sleep overs, he would search through your cabinets, your fridge, any other place he could think of, for booze.

“Klaus?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hunting for our dinner, what’s it look like.”

You set a limit on the number of drink he was allowed to have when he stayed over at your place (which was quite often). 

You didn’t want him to suffer but you didn’t want him black-out drunk, or high either.

Overall, you tried to rein in his drug use; for his own sake. 

When he isn’t wasted, Klaus tries to keep himself busy in other ways.

This meant a lot more ‘adventures’ for the two of you. 

Small trips to cultural grocery stores to try different foods

Thrift shopping; because Klaus is always looking to add to this wardrobe. 

You draw the line at dumpster diving.

“You’re missing out, Y/N! When I lived in LA for a week, this is how I survived.”

“You lived in LA?”

“For a time. Lots of bikinis...roller skates too.”

Other times you and Klaus would just walk around the city talking.

The two of you would create fantasy lives for the people you passed by, giving them wild powers like Klaus and his siblings.

Sometimes you would listen to Klaus talk about his siblings.

Your favorite stories to listen to were about Ben.

“After that, pigeons never seemed to land on the roof. Too scared I think. Ben and I did too good of a job.”

“Sounds like he was an amazing guy.”

“Yeah, he was. He likes y- I, he would have liked you.”

You tell him about your family, about your own struggles.

Through this sharing, this walks and talks, you both grow closer.

These winding walks often end at Griddy’s diner. 

“Slap me on the ass and call me Bessy, I forgot how good strawberry donuts are!”

When you return back home, your place, but Klaus calls it home, you settle in.

Klaus will braid his hair, offer to try to braid yours.

“Please, it keeps me busy.”

“What would you do without me?”

“Die of boredom, or just die, probably.”

If you both have a night cap drink before bed, you guys might dance.

Klaus tries to teach you a few moves before giving up.

“Just feel the music, my dear, feel it.”

Eventually, you both collapse and cuddle for a bit.

Klaus is a big fan of platonic cuddling so prepare for that.

Movie nights!

Due to his ‘training’ and his powers, Klaus tends to stay away from horror films so get ready for rom-coms and cheesy action movies.

“Have you ever wanted to do that?”

Klaus has a habit of asking questions during the movie; none of which are crucial to the plot of said movie.

“What?”

“If we got a boat, would you do the whole ‘I’m king of the world’ bit?”

“I mean, why wouldn’t I do it?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

There are nights when you can hear him whimpering from the couch where he sleeps.

Those nights, you creep out of your room and wake him up.

“Bad dream?”

Klaus never responds to the question, ever.

Instead, he curls up next to your and you play with his hair until he falls asleep again. 

The next morning, over coffee, you try to get him to talk about it.

Sometimes he does, other times he distracts from the topic.

Either way, you hug him.

“I’m here for you, Klaus.”

“I’m here for you too. Otherwise, I’m homeless.”

He is always trying to set you up with people.

You’ll be working at the coffee shop and he’ll come up and pretend to buy something just to tell you: “table in the far corner. They’ve been glancing your way a lot.”

“Klaus….they’re waiting for their order.”

“Oh. Well, you never know.”

That always leaves you smiling.

It’s hard not to be happy with Klaus as your best friend.

Even when he’s down or you’re down, the two of you together seem to lift one another up.

Being Klaus’ friend means having fun and feeling, feeling so much.

You feel his past pain, his struggle, his grief, in the same turn you feel his joy, his wonder, and his spark for good.

And in that, you inspire each other to do and be better.

#whatcha think? #I haven't written in a while so I'm sorry if it's rough! #klaus hargreeves #being best friends with klaus hargreeves would include #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreeves x reader #tua #tua imagine #tua imagines #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy season 2

[crowdvscritic]

round up // JULY 21

‘Tis the season to beat the heat at the always-cold theatres and next to fans set at turbo speed. While my movie watching slowed a bit with the launch of the Summer Olympics on July 23rd, I’ve still got plenty of popcorn-ready and artsy recommendations for you. A few themes in the new-to-me pop culture I’m recommending this month:

Casts oozing with embarrassing levels of talent (sometimes overqualified for the movies they’re in)

Pop culture that is responding or reinterpreting past pop culture

Stories that get weEeEeird

Keep on-a-scrollin’ to see which is which!

July Crowd-Pleasers

1. Double Feature – ‘90s Rom-Coms feat. Lots of Lies: Mystery Date (1991) + The Pallbearer (1996)

In Mystery Date (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 6/10), Ethan Hawke and Teri Polo get set up on a blind date that gets so bizarre and crime-y I’m not sure how this didn’t come out in the ‘80s. In The Pallbearer (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), David Schwimmer and Gwyneth Paltrow try to combine The Graduate with Four Weddings and a Funeral in a story about lost twentysomethings. If you don’t like rom-coms in which circumstances depend on lots of lies and misunderstandings, these won’t be your jam, but if you’re like me and don’t mind these somewhat-cliché devices, you’ll be hooked by likeable casts and plenty of rom and com.

2. The Tomorrow War (2021)

I thought of no fewer movies than this list while watching: Alien, Aliens, Angel Has Fallen, Cloverfield, Interstellar, Kong: Skull Island, Prometheus, A Quiet Place: Part II, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith, The Silence of the Lambs, The Terminator, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, and World War Z. And you know what? I like all those movies! (Okay, maybe I just have a healthy respect/fear of The Silence of the Lambs.) The Tomorrow War may not be original, but it borrows some of the best tropes and beats from the sci-fi and action genres, so much so I wish I could’ve seen Chris Pratt and Co. fight those gross monsters on a big screen. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6/10

3. Dream a Little Dream (1989)

My July pick for the Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed! I CANNOT explain the mechanics of this body switch comedy to you—nor can the back of the DVD case above—but, boy, what an ‘80s MOOD. I did not know I needed to see a choreographed dance routine starring Jason Robards and Corey Feldman, but I DID. All I know is some movies are made for me and that I’m now a card-carrying member of the Two Coreys fan club. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

4. Black Widow (2021)

The braids! The Pugh! Black Widow worked for me both as an exciting action adventure and as a respite from the Marvel adventures dependent on a long memory of the franchise. (Well, mostly—keep reading for a second MCU rec much more dependent on the gobs of previous releases.) Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

5. Liar Liar (1997)

Guys, Jim Carrey is hilarious. That’s it—that’s the review. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

6. Sob Rock by John Mayer (2021)

It’s very possible I’ve already listened to this record more than all other John Mayer records. It doesn’t surpass the capital-G Greatness of Continuum, but it’s a little bit of old school Mayer, a little bit ‘80s soft rock/pop, and I’ve had it on repeat most of the two weeks since it’s been out. Featuring the boppiest bop that ever bopped, at least one lyrical gem in every track, and an ad campaign focused on Walkmans, this record skirts the line between Crowd faves and Critic-worthy musicianship.

7. Double Feature – ‘00s Ben Affleck Political Thrillers: The Sum of All Fears (2002) + State of Play (2009)

In The Sum of All Fears (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), Ben Affleck is Jack Ryan caught up in yet another international incident. In State of Play (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), he’s a hotshot Congressman caught up in a scandal. Both are full of plot twists and unexpected turns, and in both, Affleck is accompanied by actors you’re always happy to see, like Jason Bateman, James Cromwell, Russell Crowe, Jeff Daniels, Viola Davis, Morgan Freeman, Philip Baker Hall, David Harbour, Rachel McAdams, Helen Mirren, Liev Schreiber, and Robin Wright—yes, I swear all of those people are in just those two movies.

8. Loki (2021-)

Unlike Black Widow, you can’t go into Loki with no MCU experience. The show finds clever ways to nudge us with reminders (and did better at it than Falcon and the Winter Soldier), but be forewarned that at some point, you’re just going to have to let go and accept wherever this timeline-hopper is taking you. An ever-charismatic cast keeps us grounded (Owen Wilson, Jonathan Majors, and an alligator almost steal the show from Tom Hiddleston in some eps), but while Falcon lasted an episode or two too long, Loki could’ve used a few more to flesh out its complicated plot and develop its characters. Thankfully, the jokes matter almost as much as the sci-fi, so you can still have fun even if you have no idea what’s going on.

9. Double Feature – Bruce Willis: Die Hard With a Vengeance (1995) + The Whole Nine Yards (2000)

Before Bruce Willis began starring in many random direct-to-DVD movies I only ever hear about in my Redbox emails, he was a Movie Star smirking his way up the box office charts. In the third Die Hard (Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), he teams up with Samuel L. Jackson to decipher the riddles of a terrorist madman (Jeremy Irons), and it’s a thrill ride. In The Whole Nine Yards (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), he’s hitman that screws up dentist Matthew Perry’s boring life in Canada, and—aside from one frustrating scene of let’s-objectify-women-style nudity—it’s hilarious.

10. This Is the End (2013)

On paper, this is not a movie for me. An irreverent stoner comedy about a bunch of bros partying it up before the end of the world? None of things are for Taylors. But with a little help of a TV edit to pare down the raunchy and crude bits, I laughed my way through and spent the next several days thinking through its exploration of what makes a good person. While little of the plot is accurate to Christian Gospel and theology, some of its big ideas are consistent enough with the themes of the book of Revelation I found myself thinking about it again in church this morning. (Would love to know if Seth Rogen ever expected that.) Plus, I love a good self-aware celebrity spoof—can’t tell you how many times I’ve just laughed remembering the line, “It’s me, Jonah Hill, from Moneyball”—and an homage to horror classics. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

July Critic Picks

1. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Television Could Not Be Televised) (2021)

Even director Questlove didn’t know about the Harlem Cultural Festival, but now he’s compiled the footage so we can all enjoy one of the coolest music fest lineups ever, including The 5th Dimension, B.B. King, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Nina Simone, Sly and the Family Stone, and Stevie Wonder, who made my friend’s baby dance more than once in the womb. See it on the big screen for top-notch audio. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

Robin Williams takes on the bureaucracy, disillusionment, and malaise of the Vietnam War with comedy. Williams was a one-of-a-kind talent, and here it’s on display at a level on par with Aladdin. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

3. Against the Rules Season 2 (2020-21)

Michael Lewis (author of Moneyball, adapted into a film starring Jonah Hill), is interested in how we talk about fairness. This season he looks at how coaches impact fairness in areas like college admissions, credit cards, and youth sports. 

4. Bugsy Malone (1976)

A gangster musical starring only children? It’s a little like someone just picked ideas out of a hat, but somehow it works. You can hear why in the Bugsy Malone episode Kyla and I released this month on SO IT’S A SHOW?, plus how this weird artifact of a film connects with Gilmore Girls.

5. The Queen (2006)

Before The Crown, Peter Morgan wrote The Queen, focusing on Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) in the days following the death of Princess Diana. It’s a complex and compassionate drama, both for the Queen and for Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen, who has snuck up on me to become a favorite character actor). Maybe I’ve got a problem, but I’ll never tire of the analysis of this famous family. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

6. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)

This month at ZekeFilm, we took a closer look at Revisionist Westerns we’ve missed. I fell hard for Roy Bean, and I think you will, too, if for no other reason than you might like a story starring Jacqueline Bisset, Ava Gardner, John Huston, Paul Newman, and Anthony Perkins. Oh, and a bear! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 10/10

7. New Trailer Round Up

Naked Singularity (Aug. 6) – John Boyega in a crime thriller!

Queenpins (Aug. 10) – A crime comedy about extreme coupon-ing!

Dune (Oct. 1) – I’ve been cooler on the anticipation for this film, but this new look has me cautiously intrigued thanks to the Bardem + Bautista + Brolin + Chalamet + Ferguson + Isaac + Momoa + Zendaya of it all.

The Last Duel (Oct. 15) – Affleck! Damon! Driver!

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (Nov. 11) - I’m not sure why we need this, but I’m down for the Paul Rudd + Finn Wolfhard combo

King Richard (Nov. 19) - Will Smith as Venus and Serena’s father!

Encanto (Nov. 24) – Disney and Lin-Manuel Miranda making more magic together!

House of Gucci (Nov. 24) - Gaga! Pacino! Driver! 

Also in July…

Kyla and I took a look at the classic supernatural soap Dark Shadows and why Sookie might be obsessed with it on Gilmore Girls.

I revisited a so-bad-it’s-good masterpiece that’s a surrealist dream even Fellini couldn’t have cooked up. Yes, for ZekeFilm I wrote about the Vanilla Ice movie, Cool as Ice, which is now a part of my Blu-ray collection.

Photo credits: Against the Rules. All others IMDb.com.

#Round Up #Mystery Date #The Pallbearer #The Tomorrow War #Dream a Little Dream #Black Widow #Liar Liar #Bugsy Malone #Sob Rock #John Mayer #Sob Rock John Mayer #The Sum of All Fears #State of Play #Loki #The Whole Nine Yards #Summer of Soul #Good Morning Vietnam #Against the Rules #The Life and Time of Judge Roy Bean #Die Hard With a Vengeance #This Is the End #The Queen

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Cat-Blocked

Happy birthday ❤️ ❤️ @australet789 ❤️ ❤️ !!! I hope you’re going to like this little fic based on your Ladybug episode art!

A sincere thank you to the amazing @goblin-alchemist, who not only betaread this fic suggesting valuable adjustments, but also came up with the title and the ending!

Summary:  Lila might try and try, but no matter what her newest plot to poison Marinette’s life is, Adrien will uncover it and come to his dear friend’s rescue.

AO3 / fanfiction.net

***

‘Oh, no! My lucky pen is missing!’ Lila lamented, her lower lip trembling and eyes already wet. ‘I can’t write the math test without my lucky pen!’

‘You can borrow one of mine!’ Rose chirped, viciously pink pencil-case at the ready.

‘Nooooo,’ the Italian girl wailed. ‘That was my favorite pen! Purple, my favorite color too.’

‘Maybe you left it somewhere?’ Nathaniel supplied. ‘When was the last time you had it on you?’

Lila pursed her lips in an exaggerated manner as she considered this question. ‘I had it when I went to ask Adrien about an equation I didn’t understand. He’s so wonderful at explaining things!’ she exclaimed. 

‘You didn’t sit with us,’ Nino reminded her. 

Adrien just nodded. He watched his classmate and latest modeling partner closely, trying to figure out in time, what she was up to.

‘That’s right!’ Lila snapped her fingers. ‘I sat in Marinette’s seat. She was running late, as usual.’ The girl sent their class president a condescending look. ‘It must be soooo hard for you to get here on time with all the tasks you have with your parents at the bakery!’ She continued with faux smile. ‘I guess some of us are lucky their parents don’t expect them to work!’

Marinette growled under her breath, but she left this hidden insult without any answer. Instead she pointed to her desk. ‘I don’t see your pen here, Lila. You must have left it somewhere else.’

Lila narrowed her eyes at the girl. ‘I’m sure I left it there. I remember I stood up when you came.’

‘No pen here, Lila,’ Alya rolled her eyes.

‘Can I check?’ The Italian girl fluttered her lashes innocently and headed for Marinette and Alya’s desk, despite the fact that it contained no pens whatsoever. 

She stumbled over Marinette’s backpack, scattering all the contents on the floor.

Adrien caught a glimpse of purple as Lila opened her jacket and then he heard the clatter of a falling pen, just a bit later than the rest of Marinette’s things. He moved fast, his shoe covering the pen and kicking it deep under Nino’s seat. His seat buddy didn’t even blink as he stepped on the pen and moved it even further away, obscuring it from view for better measure. Good old Nino, he probably had no clue as to why Adrien took the pen, he just followed Adrien’s lead.

‘Oh,’ Lila sighed. ‘I’m okay. It’s nothing! I’m sorry Marinette, I stepped right into your backpack.’

‘It’s oka-’ Marinette started.

‘But look, what’s this?’ Lila gasped feeling the floor in the place where she dropped the pen just a moment earlier. ‘Isn’t it my-’

‘Lila, I found your pen!’ Nino exclaimed, turning around and bending to pick the pen that was now next to Nathaniel’s desk. 

‘No, you didn’t!’ the girl snapped. ‘It’s right he-’

‘Look!’ Nathaniel took the offensive item from Nino’s fingers. ‘It’s your lucky pen!’ he called happily.

Lila looked to Marinette, then to Adrien and Nino. She pursed her lips. Her eyes flashed with rage, before her face morphed into a well practiced elation.

‘Oh, thank you, Nino! You saved my test!’ She cast the boy a pleasant smile before going back to her seat. 

Adrien didn’t know any Italian, but he was pretty sure what Lila mumbled on the way was some extremely bad cursing.

***

‘I swear to you, I didn’t sleep a wink last night!’ Lila complained. ‘I basically moved to the bathroom.’

‘You poor thing,’ Mylene cooed. ‘Did you eat something bad?’

Lila fell silent for a moment, her gaze skipping over the audience. When she made sure Marinette was there, at the back of the crowd, she shook her head theatrically.

‘It’s not possible. I only had pastries from Dupain-Cheng’s bakery yesterday,’ she looked at her fingernails. 

‘You did not!’ Marinette stood up. ‘I was manning the counter all afternoon and I didn’t see you.’

‘Ah, I was at a photoshoot all afternoon and we got the pastries on the set,’ Lila supplied innocently. ‘They tasted a little stale, but I thought since they’re from the best bakery in Paris-’

‘You must have eaten something else, Lila. Remember, there were no pastries at the set yesterday?’ Adrien put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as he stood by her side. ‘Father forbids them, because they can easily stain the prototypes.’

‘But I-’ Lila started.

‘Besides, if there were any pastries from Dupain-Cheng’s patisserie,’ Adrien winked at Marinette, ‘they wouldn’t have lasted long in my presence,’ he patted his belly. ‘No Dupain-Cheng treat can go stale if I can help it.’

He pretended he didn’t see Lila’s murderous gaze. It wasn’t hard since his vision was momentarily obscured by a fresh, buttery croissant that Marinette just took out of her lunchbox and offered to him. She was a true friend, knowing what he liked.

***

‘It’s not here!’ Marinette cried. ‘I definitely put it in here yesterday!’ She nervously shuffled through the contents of her backpack, trying in vain to locate the art project that was due for the day.

‘Maybe you left it on your desk at home?’ Alya asked.

‘I swear I packed it yesterday, as soon as I finished attaching the rim. I used red silk, it creases terribly if not stored in the right manner.’ Marinette was now throwing everything out of the backpack, as if the huge project could somehow hide at the bottom. ‘You know how scatterbrained I am in the morning.’ She tipped the bag upside down and shook it, but only a few cookie crumbs fell out. ‘And this is half of our grade!’ She tugged at her hair.

Adrien helped Alya to stack Marinette’s books neatly on the desk. He risked a discreet look at the last row, where Lila was busying herself with her phone, seemingly not taking satisfaction in the drama happening at the front of the class. 

‘Pssst, kid,’ he heard Plagg’s whisper from his pocket. ‘Look at her right hand.’

Adrien did as he was told. There was a fragment of silk wrapped around Lila’s ring finger, so slim, it wasn’t difficult to miss it if you weren’t looking for it. Red in color, could have been mistaken for a ribbon from afar, if it wasn’t for the ragged edge.

‘The rest is in the locker room dumpster,’ his kwami continued. ‘Wanna be the knight in shining armor?’

‘Thanks, Plagg,’ Adrien muttered under his breath.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ came a reply. ‘There’d better be cheese in this for me.’

‘You got it,’ the boy replied with the corner of his mouth.

‘Is this your project?’ A few minutes later he presented Marinette with a slightly crumpled, but still very impressive collage on French fashion of the first half of the 20th century. A bit of red silk was missing, but the work wasn’t destroyed.

The angry thump of fists wrapped in red silk from the last row was almost as satisfying as Marinette’s squeal of gratitude. But they both dimmed in comparison to the moment Marinette climbed to her toes and planted a hearty kiss on his cheek. And even Plagg’s snicker couldn’t ruin it for him. Marinette gave the best cheek kisses among his friends after all.

***

‘What do you mean by “it’s ruined”?’ Alya fixed her glasses as she inspected the contents of Marinette’s PE bag.

‘Ruined, as in it’s all holes,’ Marinette raised a pencil. At the other end dangled her PE t-shirt, or rather what was left of it. 

The rest of the class gasped in unison. The garment was barely in one piece, larger and smaller holes visible in the material. The subtle flower pattern, Marinette’s trademark signature, was barely noticeable The gymnastic shorts were in no better condition. 

Lila took the t-shirt in two fingers and tsked at the item with a sympathetic smile. ‘It looks like clothes moths,’ she noticed. ‘Look! A few of them are still there!’

‘Ew, ew, EEEEWW!’ The girls screeched. 

Marinette dropped the bag and its contents to the floor. 

‘I can’t go to classes in these,’ Marinette sniffed. 

‘I’m sorry, Marinette!’ Lila patted her shoulder compassionately. ‘I had no idea you had pest trouble at the bakery.’

‘Yeah, she has pest trouble all right,’ Plagg commented for Adrien’s ears only.

‘Tell me about it,’ Adrien sighed. His fingers were already dancing over the screen of his phone.

Marinette sat at the bench, sniffing from time to time, while other girls tried to comfort her. Lila kept at the edge of her group, her fake sympathetic smile plastered to her face. 

There was a knock on the door and Gorilla’s large head appeared in the crack. Adrien shot from his place and took the package his bodyguard brought at his request.

‘Here,’ Adrien passed it to Marinette. ‘I know it can’t replace the clothes you made yourself, but this is the best I could do on such a short notice.’

The girl watched him with the eyes of a deer caught in the headlights as Alya grabbed the package and emptied it on Marinette’s lap. The Ladyblogger whistled appreciatively.

‘A designer tank top, gym shorts, sweats and a hoodie? Nice job, Agreste,’ she praised. 

All the other girls flocked to Marinette again to inspect the garments. 

‘Gabriel brand!’ Rose exclaimed.

‘This is the newest collection. It’s not even in stores yet,’ Marinette whispered in an absent minded voice, as if the reality still hadn’t registered.

‘What?!’ Lila cried, then realized what she’d done. ‘I mean, that’s so amazing and so nice of you, Adrien.’

This time it wasn’t Adrien’s imagination that his name came from her lips as a hiss through clenched teeth. It wasn’t even a warning. It was a threat. To him or to Marinette, he couldn’t tell yet.

***

‘Well, I can’t prove anything,’ Marinette groaned, as she rubbed her ankle. ‘But I could have sworn I slipped on something on those stairs.’

Three pairs of eyes followed her line of sight to the very empty steps. Nino and Alya shrugged, ready to brush it off as yet another example of Marinette’s clumsiness. But Adrien thought he saw a fresh stain, a bit wet patch on a step, that might have been occupied by something slippery. And hadn’t he seen Lila ostentatiously devouring a banana at lunch table? He had lost his appetite in an instant.

‘Can you walk?’ Alya crouched next to her friend. ‘Classes start in a minute or so.’

Marinette gave her a brave little smile and pulled herself up against the railing. She winced when the hurt ankle took her weight, but she just clenched her teeth and set out for their next class, in something between a limp and a hop to save the aching leg, with Alya as her crutch substitute.

‘Oh, no, Marinette! You fell down the stairs?!’ Lila lamented. She pushed herself from the wall she’d been leaning on and jogged to the four of them. ‘You have to be more careful or you might seriously hurt yourself one day.’

Marinette grumbled something under her breath, as she hopped on, but Adrien saw that now not only her teeth, but also her fists were clenched.

‘I know a great orthopedist from when I got hurt saving Jagged’s kitten,’ the Italian girl babbled happily. ‘I could get you a visit if you want to.’

‘I thought you got tinnitus then?’ Nino tilted his head.

‘Yes, of course. But the jet blast was so powerful it knocked me off my feet. The doctors said I could have lost my leg,’ Lila fluttered her lashes and puckered her lips. ‘That orthopedist was a lifesaver!’ She proceeded to grab Adrien’s arm and smiled sweetly at him. ‘And if you ever need a visit, you just have to ask!’

Lila’s breath reeked of bananas making Adrien’s stomach twist into a tight knot. There was a very flat banana peel stuck in her purse, looking just like a peel might look like after someone slipped on it. 

Adrien disengaged himself from Lila’s grip. ‘Hey, Marinette, wait!’ He called. ‘I don’t think you should use that leg now.’

Marinette and Alya stopped, their brows raised in confusion.

‘Let’s take you to the nurse’s office, shall we?’ he announced and then without further ado wrapped Marinette’s hands around his neck and lifted her princess style, just like he had done tens of times as Chat Noir. She was as light as a feather and despite her initial uneasiness, she relaxed in his arms pretty quickly.

‘Okay?’ he asked and she nodded. ‘Great, then off we go. Agreste Taxi at your service!’ He winked and took off to the aforementioned destination.

He didn’t fight the sly smirk upon hearing Lila’s angry thump behind him. He carried Marinette around the school for the rest of the day, even after her ankle got better. After all, what were good friends for?

***

Adrien would be lying if he’d said he didn’t like his self appointed role as Marinette’s protector. He kept close to his good friend ready to ruin every scheme and disprove every lie Lila had been cooking, and in those rare cases when he was too late, he did his best to take care of Marinette in a way that would not only be enjoyable, but also a subtle (or not) jab at their nemesis. 

His role had a few unexpected advantages, like having to carry Marinette princess style on more than one occasion, or getting plenty of “thank you” croissants and quiches. The cheek kisses were also a nice bonus.

It’d been a week since Lila’s last attempt at sabotaging Marinette and it seemed like maybe she finally got the memo. Adrien reluctantly relaxed and he was slowly getting used to the fact that his protection services weren’t needed. Lila kept as far from Marinette as she could, not giving him even a shadow of a chance to come to the rescue. She settled for giving him the stink eye every now and then.

Yet his protective mode was still on. He still swept the corridors for potential dangers before his friend left the classroom. He still kept an eye on her locker and her backpack just in case someone wanted to tamper with them. He had to stop himself before giving Lila the “I’m watching you” treatment.

And now his *protect Marinette* senses were screaming at him *DANGER*DANGER* in big red letters. He left his post at Marinette’s side for just one lousy break and it turned out to be the opportunity Lila had been waiting for. Adrien saw her approaching Marinette at the other end of the corridor. He broke into sprint hoping he’d get there in time to stop any “accident” or “mishap” that Lila had in store.

‘Hey, Marinette! Can I-’ Lila started.

Adrien sucked in the air as he gasped for breath, wrapping himself around Marinette in a protective hug.

‘What the-,’ Marinette mumbled confused, from somewhere close to his chest. ‘Adrien?’

‘Did you just hiss at me?’ Lila asked accusingly. 

‘Are you purring?’ Marinette whispered to his sternum.

He didn’t even know how to address those questions, so he looked around searching for rescue. What he didn’t take into consideration was that his sprint had attracted the attention of nearly everyone in the hall. Jaws dropped. Fingers pointed. Gasps were heard. A ripple of murmurs spread through school like wildfire through dry grass.

‘Dude,’ Nino breathed out, standing beside an equally shocked Alya, ‘just a friend?’

#adrinette #ml spoilers #ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #plagg #ml fic #miraculous ladybug #perdita writes #cat-blocked #australet789 #happy birthday Austra!!! #fluff #crack #revenge #just a friend

[dontcare77ghj]

Heart

Dean x reader x Cas

For @schischi

Notes; The whole white witch plot is borrowed from Hansel & Gretel Witch Hunters.

Part 1 of 3

“Mom! I brought you your favourite coffee.” You called, locking your mother’s front door behind you. “I thought we could do a girls day. Mom, where are you?” You questioned aloud, putting the hopping bag on the bench.

You walked through the large house, checking every room on the ground floor. 

“Mom!” You called, walking upstairs. “I know you’re home; I saw your car in the drive.” You said. Ignoring every other room, you made your way to her bedroom. An ear shattering scream left your body as you caught sight of your mangled mother in a pool of her own blood.

A series of loud knocks echoed through your home as you made your way to the front door. Upon opening the door you took notice of the two men standing in your doorway.

“Hi, sorry to disturb you Miss, I’m agent Banner and this is my partner agent Ruffalo.” The taller of the two introduced, both he and the shorter man pulling out their badges. “We just had a few questions concerning your mother.”

“Oh of course, I’m Y/N but you probably know that.” You said, opening the door and gesturing for them to enter. “I’m sorry the place is such a mess; I haven’t had time to tidy.” You told the two, feeling embarrassed at the disarray your home was home.

“It’s perfectly understandable given the events of the past few days.” Agent Ruffalo assured you, taking the offered seat on your couch. 

“I thought I already gave a statement when I found her?” You questioned, sitting across from the two.

“Yes you did, we just had a few questions about your original statement.” Banner assured you. “Now when you found your mother, was there anything strange you noticed? Any odd smells, flickering lights or things anything like that?”

“No nothing like that. Everything seemed normal, I didn’t think anything was wrong until I found her.” You said, fiddling with your fingers.

“We understand you have a key to your mother’s home. Is it possible for us to borrow it? Check out the scene a bit more?” Ruffalo questioned.

“Of course, if it helps you find out what happened.” You said, rising to a stand. “Wait here a second.” You told the two and walked into the kitchen. You grabbed the key and walked back towards the living room but hid behind the door frame as you heard them talking.

“So what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking it’s a deal, but we shouldn’t rule anything out.”

Shaking your head at the weird conversation you walked back in. “Found it.”

“Thank you very much, Y/N. We’re very sorry for your loss.” Agent Ruffalo said, taking the key out of your hand. “We’ll be in touch if we find anything.”

“Thank you. Have a nice day.”

“Hit me.” You said, tapping the bar.

“You look like someone who’s had a bad day.” The bartender said, pouring you another drink.

“Try bad week.” You snorted dryly, downing the drink quickly. 

“Anything I can do to help you fix it?” The man offered, flirting in a not so subtle way.

“Not a chance bud.” You laughed. Offended by your rejection, the man walked away from you to serve a group of women at the end of the bar.

You’d been sitting in silence for nearly twenty minutes when someone sat in the chair next to you.

“I didn’t expect to find you here. I thought you were more of a drink at home type of girl.” Agent Ruffalo said, turning towards you.

“Well normally I would much prefer that but I’m all out at the moment.” You snarked, causing the man to chuckle.

“You okay, darling? You look a little worse for wear.” He asked you in concern.

“I buried my mother today.” You said, tapping the bar again. “And then had it pointed out by the town that I am entirely alone.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that alone.” 

“Not your fault.” You shrugged, downing another shot.

“Let me buy you a drink, darling. You look like you could use one.” He said, flagging down the bartender.

“You don’t need to do that, Agent Ruffalo.” You insisted.

“I’m off duty Y/N, it’s Dean.” He smiled.

One drink quickly turned into four. You found yourself enjoying Dean’s company. You felt very comfortable with the agent, feeling as if you’d known him for years instead of a few days. The two of you sat at that bar talking about various details of each of your lives.

The two of you shared stories about your shitty childhoods, laughed at your crappy love life and talked about his successful relationship with his long term partner Cas.

“I love him.” Dean smiled giddily after his fifth drink. “I never thought I’d deserve someone like him.”

“You sound like you really love him.” You smiled at him.

“I do. He’s one of my soulmates.”

“What you have another?” You questioned, not thinking much of his phrasing. The man had had a few to drink.

“Apparently. We don’t know who our second is, but I know I’ll love them.” He mumbled.

“Dean!” Echoed through the bar. Turning around you saw Agent Banner making his way towards you. “Dean, I’ve been calling you for hours. We need to go.” Banner told him.

“Do you need some help, he’s had quite a few.” You laughed as Dean smacked his partner as he tried to help him up.

“Uh, no thank you. I’ve got plenty of experience here.” The tall man laughed somewhat tersely. 

“Alright. Have a good night, Agent Banner. You too Dean.” You bid the two farewell as Banner managed to drag his partner out of the bar. “One more.” You told the bartender, tapping the bar once more.

One more and you’d go home.

One more, for your mother. 

Bottoms up.

You awoke with a groan the next morning as the sun burnt your eyes. Your head was pounding as you forced yourself to sit upright. Another groan escaped you as your phone began to loudly ring.

“Hello?” You croaked, answering without looking.

“Y/N, it’s Dylan.” Your best friends brother greeted you. “I’ve got some bad news.”

“What happened Dylan?” You asked him, suddenly feeling much more alert and awake.

“It’s Emily. She’s dead, Y/N.”

Non-reader POV

“I’m telling you, Dean, it’s her.” Sam insisted. “It has to be her.”

“Sam, I have a hangover and don’t want to keep saying this, but it’s not her.” Dean said gruffly, massaging his temples. 

The two had been arguing all morning. It was a continuous cycle of "It's her," and "It's not her."

"Give me one good reason as to why it can’t be her.” Sam demanded.

“Because she buried her mother yesterday. You didn’t see how torn up this girl was when I got there. And her friend just died. It’s not her.” 

“So she’s a good actor. Hex bags were found at both houses, Dean.” Sam argued. “And that’s not all, four months ago her father died and guess what his body looked like.”

“Why would she kill these people Sam? You’ve got no motive.”

“Yes I do.” Sam said, quickly typing something into his computer. “Y/N was adopted. And six months before her father’s death she started going to therapy. According to the sessions notes, the father beat the crap out of her and the mother for most of her childhood.”

“Then why would she kill the mother and her friend?” Dean questioned his brother, still not doubting the woman’s innocence.

“The mother let it go. Didn’t report him. Maybe her friend found out.” Sam shrugged. “Dean, she could kill again, she’s already got three under her belt. We have to do something.”

“Shit.” Dean sighed, resting his head in his hands. “We’ll go talk to her again today. See if we pick up witch vibes, but I still don’t think it’s her.”

Reader POV

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything as your mind raced and your body began to shake. After hearing the news on Emily’s passing you’d shut down. A part of you registered the what was happening around you but that part was loudly drowned out by your screaming mind.

Emily was dead.

Your mother was dead.

Your father was dead.

You were well and truly alone.

The bedroom lights were beginning to flicker. As your panic attack began to worsen you could see them flickering even more aggressively.

There was the sound of light bulb sharing before the room descended into darkness. You noticed but were unable to do anything.

Someone was screaming your name. You could hear it but you couldn’t do anything about it.

You couldn’t do anything and it was when your breathing became particularly difficult the world finally went dark.

Non-reader POV

“What do we do?” Dean questioned Sam in panic as he tried to get Y/N to break out of her stupor.

“You gotta make her breath.” Sam said, kneeling on her other side. “She’s having a panic attack.”

“Jesus!” Dean cried out in surprise as the light bulb shattered. Both men covered their faces as the glass scattered.

“Move.” A gentle voice commanded, startling the two brothers. Both turned at the new voice to see Castiel standing behind them.

“Cas?” Dean questioned as the angel pushed the two hunters to the side. The angel kneeled in front of the woman, who was struggling to breath, and pressed two fingers to her forehead. Y/N’s eyes closed as Cas’s fingers and promptly fell back on the bed.

“There is no need for your gun, Sam.” Castiel said, turning back toward the Winchesters. “I would suggest you stop playing with it.”

“Cas she’s a witch. That light show is proof. She’s killed three people; she needs to be stopped.” Sam said, trying to convince the angel.

“She has not killed anyone. I won’t let you kill her, Sam.” Cas said, narrowing his eyes at the tall moose. 

“Cas what’s going on?” Dean questioned his soulmate. “Why are you protecting her?”

“For the same reason you want to protect her, Dean.” Cas told him, taking his hand. “She’s our other soulmate.”

Reader POV

When you awoke this time, you felt worse than you did before. This was no longer a case of a hang over, this was the after effects of a panic attack that took everything out of you.

You groaned as you got out of bed, all your muscles screaming as they began to move. Walking out of the bedroom and seeking the kitchen, you rubbed your temples in an attempt to sooth your raging headache.

Turning on the kettle you quickly popped two ibuprofen and took them dry.

“I see you’re awake.” A voice said behind you, startling you and causing you to almost drop your coffee cup.

“Who the hell are you?” You snapped at the unfamiliar man.

“He’s definitely not from hell, sweetheart.” Dean chuckled waking into your kitchen with his partner.

“What are you doing in my house?” You questioned, wrapping your arms yourself. “And, again, who are you?”

“I am Castiel.” The mystery man, Cas now, said. “And we’re here to help you.”

“Cas before you get into it, maybe we let her have some coffee. Or sit down.” Agent Banner cut in. Dean and Cas agreed with him and allowed you to make yourself a coffee. You felt a slight feeling of trepidation as you followed the three men into your living room but there was another part of you that felt at ease with the men.

“Am I allowed to know what’s going on?” You asked the men, sitting in the only single chair in your lounge.

“Before we get into this, we need you to listen to us before you decide we're nuts.” Dean said, giving you a serious face.

“Okay.” You said, clutching your coffee close. “One question, is this going to end with the three of you chopping up my body and throwing me into some dumpster? Because if it does, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Relax sweetheart, you’re not going to die.” Dean soothed. “First off, I’m Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam. We’re hunters.” He said pointing to the tall man who gave you a smile and a wave. “We’re not your average hunters, we don’t hunt buck or bears, we hunt monsters.”

“We've been doing it for years, trying to protect the innocents.” Sam cut in. “We came to town because your mother’s death wasn’t under normal circumstances.”

“What do you mean not under normal circumstances?” You interrupted, unable to stop the question. Sam and Dean shared a look before Dean sighed.

“Your mom was killed by a witch.” Dean admitted. “And when we found out about Emily and what happened to your father Sam thought it was you.”

“You thought I would kill my family and friend?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at the long-haired man.

“I’m sorry, there was just a lot of evidence that I thought pointed to you. I should’ve looked into it a bit more instead of jumping to conclusions.” Sam apologized.

“Anyway, we came here this morning to talk to you about it but we found you having a panic attack. We couldn’t get you to calm down and suddenly your lights are flickering and the next thing you know, your globes shatter.” Dean told you.

“This is when I arrived.” Castiel said. “I calmed you and put you to sleep.”

“Not the best phrasing but could be worse.” Dean muttered. “Oh and Cas here is an angel of the lord.”

“Oh God.” You finally mumbled after a minute.

“No he’s not here anymore, he left.” Cas told you, making your eyes widen.

“Okay, suppose I buy this and don’t think you’re all nuts, why did all my light bulbs shatter?” You asked them, putting your mug on the table. “And why is everyone around me dying?”

“Okay Cas, you’re up.” Dean said, pointing to the angel. “And gently please.”

“Y/N, you’re not human.” Castiel started, making your eyes widen and the boys sigh. “At least not entirely. As I’m sure you’re aware you were adopted.”

“No, I was not actually.” You interrupted, choking on your spit. 

“Ah, well now you are.” Cas said. Dean let out a sigh and Sam hid his face in his hands. “As I was saying, your parents were not your actual parents. I’m not sure who they were exactly but I do know your mother was a white witch.”

“So, I am a witch?”

“Yes, but not quite. Witches are people who sold their souls to demons, white witches are born. It’s passed on from mother to daughter. As angels We’re supposed to ensure the protection of white witches but over the decades, they have become a dying race.

Until now, we were sure they were all extinct. As it turns out your mother used a very powerful cloaking spell and hid you away. We hadn’t been able to locate you until today.” Castiel explained. 

“Why would she cloak me and if you’re an angel how could you not locate me even through it?” 

“As a white witch, you hold significantly more power than those who sold their souls. Your mother would have had to have used the last of her life force to protect you the way she did. That’s why we couldn’t find you. I'm not sure exactly why she cloaked you, but I would assume it was to protect you.” Cas said.

“So, what do you say, sweetheart?” Do you believe us?” Dean questioned you as you placed your head in your hands.

“Look I really want to believe you because I kinda believe it but there’s no physical evidence.” You said, looking up. “Is there any physical proof you have?”

Without another word Castiel’s eyes glowed a bright, supernatural, blue. 

“Is that sufficient evidence?” He asked you, tilting his head to the side, eyes no longer glowing.

“Yeah, yeah I think that works.” You nodded. “Alright, I’m on board. He’s an angel, you’re hunters and I’m a witch. Jesus I need a drink.” You sighed, leaning back into your seat.

“Are you two going to tell her the rest of the news?” Sam asked the other two, a smug grin plastered to his face.

“There’s more?” You asked, face slightly paling.

“Oh yeah.” Sam smirked at his brother. “Come on Dean, you’re up to bat.”

“Fine.” Dean sighed, taking Cas’s hand in his. “The reason everyone around you is being murdered is because there’s a coven in the area that want you to feel isolated, so they can rip out your heart for a ritual.”

“What?” You exclaimed, voice raising slightly, as you covered your mouth in shock.

“You gotta tell her the rest, Dean.” Sam said. “She’s going to find out eventually.” He pointed out as his broker gave him a bitch face.

“Sam is right.” Cas agreed.

“Don’t you think we’ve dropped enough on her today? Do you want to overwhelm her?” Dean asked the two.

“Excuse me but I am right here and if I’m going to find out anyway, you might as well just tell me now.” You snapped, crossing your arms.

At your words Sam smiled and mumbled something you couldn’t discern; Cas gave you a bright smile and Dean let out a small chuckle.

“You’re defiently our soul mate, sweetheart.” He smiled.

A few seconds passed as you failed to register the words that left his mouth.

“Wait what?"

Taglist

@hopingforbarnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @rvgrsbrns @starlingelliot @smilexcaptainx @jelly-fishy-babie

If anyone from my marvel taglist list doesn’t want to be tagged in any Supernatural stories, message me and I’ll not tag you in them and only tag you for marvel pairings.

Show me your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/message me any comments, ideas, pairings, taglist requests, or whatever you wish.

Coming soon;

Dean x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Wanda

Natasha x reader x Tony x Bucky

Natasha x reader x Wanda

Tony x reader x Steve

Meg x reader x Cas

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #castiel #castiel x reader #dean winchester x reader x castiel #dean x reader x cas #dean x reader x castiel #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x castiel #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #spn #spn fanfic #spn family #reader insert #dean winchester x female reader #castiel x female reader #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #spn imagine #castiel imagine #dean winchester imagine #destiel #destiel x reader #angel castiel #soul mate au #supernatural x y/n #supernatural x you

[kevrocksicehouse]

Zach Snyder’s Justice League.

D: Zach Snyder (2021).

I’m going to miss making jokes about the Snyder cut.

When Zach Snyder and Joss Whedon came out with The Justice League a few years ago it was a bombastic, humorless, and incoherent bore that deserved to tank at the box office. Almost immediately social media started talking about a longer Snyder cut that would save the movie, which for a film that seemed interminable seemed nuts. The cut, which ballooned to a four-hour film was released yesterday is still bombastic and humorless but it’s neither incoherent or boring. In fact, it’s kind of, you know, epic.

The plot, which borrows heavily from The Lord of the Rings and The Seven Samurai isn’t any kind of great shakes, involving godlike aliens looking for three supercomputers (called Mother Boxes) which, when synchronized, can destroy and/or enslave the world. Batman (Ben Affleck) and Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) are trying to put together a team to stop them, seeing as how Superman (Henry Cavill) bit the big one in the last DC movie (Batman vs. Superman, lay off it you’ll live longer). But fifteen minutes into the film we’ve already seen at least two spectacularly staged, expertly timed and executed action sequences: a battle between the Amazons of Themyscira (WW’s people) and hundreds of Parademons (insectoid versions of winged monkeys), and a tense scene where Wonder Woman stops a terrorist threat. The scenes foreshortened or eliminated in the earlier film give the movie a scale and scope while also allowing for detail and character development. This comes in handy when introducing Aquaman (Jason Mamoa) a laid-back bro hero who is (reluctantly) king of the oceans; The Flash (Ezra Miller) a nerdy goofball who can run at the speed of light; and Cyborg (Ray Fisher) whose scientist father (Joe Morton) saves his life after an accident, by grafting Mother Box technology to his frame, giving him control of any machine or IT system. Each of these characters, who were formerly introduced perfunctorily, now get back-stories and supporting characters that make sense, and every one of them gets a bravura action sequence.

There are a few misfires. A lot of the Aquaman story rehashes what we might already know from his own 2018 movie. A key plot point involves the team’s attempt to revive Superman, and while the sequence itself is gripping and touching (it calls to mind a religious ritual) it gives the character an importance in the film that he hasn’t earned in Snyder’s previous films, where his “boy scout” morality, so central to his character is subsumed by angst, and grittiness (as soon as he’s revived he attacks the team) and his power level makes him a clumsy Deus ex machina. And while I was never bored or worn out by the film, it IS long. Part of me wants to advise that you see it in sections (the film is divided into seven “chapters” and an epilogue.) The other part doesn’t want to mess with cinema.

Currently streaming on HBO Max

#zach snyder #justice league #batman #superman #wonder woman #kevrock #review

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Christmas Cheer

Series: Naruto

Setting: College!AU

Pairing; Sakura/Hinata

Rating: G

After an accident lands Sakura on bed rest and crutches, Hinata makes it her job to cheer her partner up. 

Author’s note: A commissioned piece for @wombatking​! So the pairing and plot are by request and the characters borrowed and adapted for this AU. Hopefully, it gives you some warm fluffy feelings this holiday season! 

*~*~*~*

Christmas Cheer The goal was in sight and this was her moment. Last game of an almost perfect season and she wanted to finish strong. Sakura had never been one to back down from a challenge, even one she’d set for herself so she barrels for the goal desire in mind. Movement out of the corner of her eye warns that things might get tricky and she leaves it up to fate as she sends the ball hurtling towards the goal seconds before there is a collision and a blinding pain shoots up her leg as she takes a tumble. The breath is knocked from her and as she lays there dazed and in pain, she can’t help but hope that the goal was good.  Watching from the stands, Sakura’s girlfriend, Hinata, is horrified at the sight of her partner hitting the ground and rises immediately so she can make her way down. As she makes her way through the throng, all she can repeat in her head is how much this could not be a career-ending injury. Soccer was Sakura’s whole world and that would devastated her to not be able to play. But she knows that regardless of all of that, she has no plans that aren’t helping her through whatever this turns out to be. And thankfully, it turns out to be a clean break. However, the doctor is adamant about Sakura staying off her foot as much as possible. Absolutely no long distance trips for at least a month if not more especially if she wants to it to heal right.  “Does he honestly expect me to cancel my trip home for Christmas?”  “Sakura,” Hinata says softly, “You know he wants you to get back to what you love doing. And I know you do, too. So maybe it’s for the best. I can decorate the dorm and we can celebrate together here.” “My parents are going to be super-bummed you realize.”  “I know. But look at it this way; at least for one holiday you won’t have to deal with Naruto.”  At that, Sakura cannot help laughing softly. “I suppose there is a plus for that. Sure your folks will be okay with you declining their invitation, too?”  “They’re just going to have to be. Besides, it’s not like it isn’t tense every year and I end up at your house within a day or two, anyway.” “Your father is still not close to being okay with things is he?”  Hinata sighs as she pushes the wheelchair. “He wanted...different things for me, that’s all. He’ll come around eventually. It’s just a matter of waiting him out.”  “Still, I think he’s a total narcissistic dick for having problems with how you want to live your life. You want to help people. That’s admirable. And as for me...well, I’m definitely a catch so he should be glad his daughter has such discerning tastes.”  Hinata giggles at her words as she guides the wheelchair into the elevator. “I suppose you are right in some ways. But my mother is hopeful that by the time I graduate he’ll have accepted it.” “Well, even if he doesn’t, you know my family adores you.”  “I do and I’m very grateful to them. So you won’t be the only one who will be missing them this Christmas but I do think it important to listen to the doctor’s orders.”  “Suppose that is what I get for dating a med student.” *~*~*~*~ Hinata helps Sakura settle into her bed and gives her the privacy to call her folks deciding that she might as well let her own know she wasn’t coming this year, either. She was sure her father would be less than understanding, he never was, but her mother would be. It’s with this hope that she makes the call and waits. Three rings and would come, “Hinata, I didn’t think we’d hear from you until you were ready to leave.”  She closes her eyes and steadies herself. “Mom, there’s been an accident and Sakura has to stay off her feet. I need to stay here and look after her.”  There’s a long pause before her mother answers, “You know your father won’t approve of this. However, I know how important it is to you to take care of her. You enjoy your holidays and don’t you worry about us. If he wants to get grumpy then I’ll point out that there would be dishonor to not take care of someone who is hurt when they need it. Give Sakura my love and the hopes for  a speedy recovery.”  “Thanks, mom, I love you.”  “And I you. We’ll talk soon.”  It was always easier to talk to her mom than her dad and she was glad he wasn’t the one who answered. Stern and aloof, he was terrifying even now and Hinata had trouble making herself heard. Even distance made it hard because she could hear the rife disappointment in his tone and just envision him before her. Pushing that thought away, she decides that a list is in order of how to make the dorm apartment more festive for  the two of them. She certainly knew shopping would be a must because she has every intention of making this a fantastic holiday season for her girlfriend no matter that they had to stay here on campus.  At least they would be alone as their other two roommates Ino and Tenten had already left on vacation. Ino and Sakura had a childhood rivalry and no doubt the blond would have made her feel quite bad about her injury for the whole time otherwise. Hinata would have no doubt intervened but she didn’t think Sakura needed the added stress as it was.  She’s mulling over the list when she hears, “Hinata!” and makes her way for her room. “Done with your call?” she asks.  “Yeah. Surprisingly they were pretty no-nonsense about me doing as the doctor ordered so long as we agree to facetime with them on Christmas. They are, as always, so proud of you and send their loves. They also said they’d send a fruitcake back with Naruto.”  “I suppose we can see if it actually arrives or not,” Hinata says hiding a grin.  “Knowing Naruto? We’ll probably have to thank them and tell them it was delicious and not really know the truth.” That makes Hinata giggle before remarking, “Well, we all know how much he loves to eat.”  “So should they. So hopefully they’ll send him with his own and he can eat that. How’d your talk go?”  “I spoke with my mom. She’s going to handle my father, which is probably for the best.”  “Yeah, no doubt. Sorry that you have to…”  “No, none of that,” she interrupts gently, “I am going to look after you. Besides, it’s always so uncomfortable anyway so I honestly consider it a relief to have a reason not to go.” “I just know that you love them despite how slow your father is coming around on things.”  “I know. But they will be fine without me.”  “Still…”  She leans close before lightly kissing her cheek. “None of that. Now, what do you want to do? We’re going to make this place festive.”  Sakura smiles at that. “You are sweet for all of this. But honestly, you don’t have to go all out on my account.”  “It’s not a problem. Besides, I know you love this holiday and so do I.”  “Well, I won’t say no to decorating...but only if you agree to help decorate this ugly white cast  first. I don’t like it all that much.”  Hinata smiles. “I’ll put some decorations but I will leave space for our friends to sign it because you know they’ll want to when they find out.”  "Suppose that is unavoidable," Sakura sighs, "but until that time, let's make it at least a little festive,?" "Of course," Hinata readily agrees. It's not too long before she has the tools she needs and she settles next to Sakura. "Let me know if at any time it becomes too much, okay?" "Don't worry, I'll let you know," Sakura promises. It's with this in mind that Hinata starts to work. She inks.and then paints a couple of holiday-themed items over the white cast. At the end, Sakura marvels at the snowman, reindeer, present, Christmas tree, and of course, a jolly Santa Claus. "Are you sure you shouldn't have wanted to major in art?" "It's more a hobby than a passion," her girlfriend replies as she cleans up and puts away the items. "Still, you're quite good." "Thank you. It'll take some time to dry so try not to jostle it too badly." “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on moving much, promise.” She gifts her with a soft smile before adding, “If I don’t say it enough; I’m so glad that I have you in my life. You bring such sunlight to my world.”  Hinata smiles before leaning and kissing her cheek. “I think those are the painkillers finally kicking in. You should rest while you can. I’m going to go out and get a few things for the apartment.” “I assure you it’s not,” she murmurs before yawning, “Okay, maybe a little. But the sentiment is still honest.” “I know,” comes the response, “but rest. I’ll be back and when you wake up it’ll look fantastic in your room.” “‘M lucky that you go through all this trouble.” As she leaves, Hinata murmurs, “It’s never any trouble for you. Promise.”

#Fanfic: Naruto #Sakura x Hinata #Naruto #Sakura Haruno #Hinata Hyuga

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

Bastien reconnects with Sophia after detaining Anton Severus. Can they all rest easy now he’s under lock and key?

Word Count 351

A/N Apologies, most of this chapter has been posted as a standalone piece. However, the plot moves forward afterwards. No warnings, mention of menstruation, otherwise fluff and a little drama. As always may I point out that my blog is NOT SUITABLE FOR UNDER 18s

13 Home and Dry?

The gate at Valtoria Manor was too badly damaged to open easily and although it was possible to walk through easily no vehicles could get in or out, so Bastien borrowed one of the SUVs that had been standing by outside the gates in case Anton had managed to get out that way. He arrived back at Applewood a couple of hours later. The King knew of their success and had asked him to report first thing in the morning so he made his way straight to the suite he shared with Sophia. The door was unlocked, and he walked in to see Riley sitting on the couch of the lounge. Next to her, curled up into a ball and fast asleep was Sophia, her face puffy, in pyjamas and fluffy slippers. He nodded in thanks to Riley and motioned her to go. She smiled sympathetically and gave his arm a squeeze as she left. Bastien took his coat off and sat next to his lover to gently stroke her face. Her eyes opened sleepily before becoming wide at the sight of him. She threw her arms around his neck with a little cry.

‘Bas, you’re back’ She turned her face to rain kisses onto his cheek.

‘Indeed I am, my goddess’ he murmured, laughing at her greeting as her hair tickled his neck. ‘Hold on tight’ She obeyed and he stood, putting his arms underneath her thighs and lifting her easily to carry her to bed. She sat on the edge and pulled off her pyjama top as he knelt stiffly to take her slippers off, then she slipped out of the bottoms as he stood to take off his shoes. He noted that she kept her panties on, and made a mental calculation, realising that it was time for her period. It explained why she had been so emotional and had insisted on him returning, and he felt chastened that he had not thought of that possibility. He had observed that she was often more emotional at that time of the month – something he had not noticed with other partners as he’d not spent enough time with them.

She slid silently under the covers, never taking her eyes off him. He swiftly undressed to his boxer shorts, only roughly folding his clothes so he could get into bed with her and pull her to him. Wordlessly they lay facing each other, shifting slightly from time to time – a kiss, a caress of the cheek, a hand on the other’s upper arm, chaste little gestures of reassurance and reconnection. Finally she grew still, her breath soft and steady as she fell asleep, safe with her lover, her Dark Knight.

------

‘We had the exit covered, the only thing we missed was the car in the stable block’ Bastien reported to the King. ‘We had armed men at the gates, and I was not far outside in the control van. The light conditions made it challenging and Anton managed to scale the gates with cover from two of his men. I was able to step out of the vehicle and apprehend him myself before he escaped into the woodland beside the Manor’

‘Well done Bastien’ he said gravely ‘Anton is in custody, and I’m sure it was satisfying for you to be the one to take him down.’

‘Thankyou Sir, it was. My men performed well and I am reasonably satisfied with how things panned out given the short notice we had.’ He shifted in his seat before he continued ‘With respect, I plan to step down from the Guard within the month, and recommend Lewis to succeed me.’

‘That is your privilege after all your years of service. Bastien, I want you to know that I greatly value your input and I don’t think anyone could have performed better’ Liam replied ‘I’d like to retain you as security advisor on the Council as liaison with the Guard, to leave Lewis more time to concentrate on settling into the job. Should you not wish to take that position you may of course retire on a full pension, which as you know is very generous, as befits your service to the Crown’ Bastien inclined his head.

‘Thankyou Sir, I shall consider your offer. Now Anton has been apprehended I hope that Cordonia will be a more peaceful and harmonious place.  When you and the court return to the Palace I shall be asking for leave to find other accommodation for myself and Sophia’ Liam nodded in answer

‘I’ll be sorry to see you move out’ he said ‘I can’t remember a time when you weren’t about. I know Drake looks on you like a father, and in a way I do too, especially after discovering some of the things my own father did over the years.’ Bastien squared his shoulders

‘Things I assisted him to accomplish, or did nothing to prevent’ he admitted, gritting his teeth.

‘I’m sure you did what you thought best’

‘That is very generous of you, Sir. I will of course answer any questions you may have’

‘I may have some in time. Thankyou for your report, Bastien.’ Liam looked at his watch. ‘I have an appointment with a trade delegation, so I’ll call on you later if it’s convenient.’

‘Of course your Majesty’ Bastien bowed and left the room.

---------

Sophia sat huddled up on the couch, hot water bottle clutched to her stomach, soft blanket around her shoulders and knees drawn up to her chest. This wasn’t the first time she’d had her period since she’d moved in with Bastien, but they’d not discussed it before, just skirted around it. Her cycle was mostly regular, but the symptoms varied wildly, and this was a bad one. She was bloated and her head throbbed. She had managed soup and bread for lunch, which was sitting heavy in her belly and the painkillers were taking a long time to kick in, so she curled up and started to channel surf.

She heard Bastien returning from work, and he came in to the lounge. She knew that he had eaten in the staff canteen, but she hadn’t wanted to appear in public with the way she was feeling. He paused momentarily as he took in the situation, stooping to kiss her on the forehead before he continued through to the kitchenette, clattering around making coffee as she settled on a romcom. She frowned at the kiss and winced at the sharp noises, calling out to him testily.

‘Do you have to make so much noise?’ she snapped

‘Sorry my goddess. Do you want anything to drink?’

‘No’ she said shortly, the smell of coffee turning her stomach. Yesterday she had desperately wanted him to come back, but right now she wished he would just leave her alone.

‘I could make hot chocolate’ he cajoled. She shook her head, irritated that he would presume that would make her feel better.

‘No thankyou’ she said in an attempt at politeness that she definitely didn’t feel. He came over and sat next to her, leaning his arm on the back of the couch, head on his palm and body angled toward her.

‘Can I do anything for you, theá mou?’ he asked soothingly. She shook her head and kept her eyes on the screen, though really she wasn’t watching it – it was just wallpaper. ‘Sophia?’ he prompted. She turned her head to him sharply.

‘What is it, Bastien?’ she said sharply ‘I just want to sit and be quiet’

‘You’re hurting, agápe mou’ he pressed ‘I want to help’

‘Well don’t’ she snapped, looking back at the screen ‘I’ve coped with this on my own for years. Most women do, you know’ He was quiet for a while but didn’t move.

‘We’ve never talked about this’ he said, quietly probing ‘How is it for you? You can tell me’ She sighed heavily, knowing he wouldn’t let it go.

‘My guts hurt, my head throbs and the pills aren’t helping’ she said, a lump forming in her throat.

‘It’s not usually this bad, is it?’ he asked, his tone gentle. She shook her head, and found her eyes prickling. He handed her  a tissue, and she accepted it and dabbed at her face, sniffling and holding back tears as her mood swung from irritation to self pity. He leaned closer, his tone soft as he carried in his assault on her walls.

‘Did I ever tell you about the first time I went down on a girl?’ She shook her head, pressure building in her chest from the sobs she withheld. He smiled ‘She didn’t know her period had started, and it was a while before either of us realised. She was mortified’ Sophia looked at him watery eyed, her sob turning into a laugh.

‘That can’t have been nice’ He put his hand on her knee and squeezed it.

‘I didn’t mind. A few towels and a wash afterwards and all is fine. You don’t have to hide anything from me, theá mou’ he said softly ‘Come here, let me hold you’ She made a little sound of acquiescence and he moved close as she repositioned herself, still hugging the hot water bottle. Gently he put his arm around her shoulders, stroking her hair. She sighed and relaxed into his warm embrace, genuinely feeling just a little better.

‘I can heat up that bottle’ he offered. She shook her head, unwilling to move.

‘No, just stay like this for now’ she murmured. She stared at the screen. She knew he disliked what he termed ‘fluffy’ films or series, but he bore it without complaint. If it weren’t for the dull ache in her belly and throbbing head she would have fallen asleep in his arms. Instead she shifted uncomfortably, groaning quietly.

‘What pills did you take?’ he asked ‘How long ago?’

‘Aspirin’ she mumbled ‘An hour ago. There wasn’t anything else in the cabinet and I didn’t feel like going out’

‘Housekeeping are stocked with all sorts of pills and potions’ Bastien pointed out ‘What usually works?’ She shrugged. Housekeeping at the Palace was indeed a wonderful source not only for pills, but pads and tampons, and the last time she’d bought any was when they were touring with the court. But this was Applewood and their supplies were different.

‘They don’t have the ones I used to take back home, and I’ve run out’

‘Tell me what they are and I’ll see to it’ he said. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a hot chocolate?’ She sighed

‘I’m bloated and that will make me feel worse.’ she grumbled, becoming aware that she needed to change her tampon, and hauled herself on to her feet. As she returned from the bathroom Bastien addressed her again.

‘What do you usually have when you feel bloated?’ She ensconced herself back on the couch, shivering slightly and pulling the blanket tight around her shoulders. Her head still ached and she was suddenly consumed with a longing for comfort food. He waited for her answer, stroking her knee and running his hand down her calf to her foot.

‘Oat milk. But I want chocolate ice cream. Ben and Jerry’s Phish food is good’

‘I’ll get you some’ he said ‘Do you have an empty packet of your pills?’ Resignedly she sighed.

‘In my toiletry bag’ she said ‘It’s okay Bas, you don’t have to’

‘Yes I do’ He bent to kiss her forehead before getting up ‘Hold tight, I’ll be as quick as I can’

‘Does the kitchen stock Ben and Jerry’s?’ she asked ‘Do you even have it in Cordonia?’

‘We’re not savages’ he chuckled ‘Let me heat up that bottle before I go, the kettle boiled not long ago’

---------

Sophia jerked awake at the sound of the door to the suite closing. The television screen flickered and the bottle held against her belly was still warm. She dabbed at the drool at the corner of her mouth as Bastien entered with a grocery bag. She goggled at it as he sat on the couch next to her. He drew out a packet of the pills she wanted.

‘Did you go to the store?’ she asked incredulously, and as he nodded she had a vivid picture in her head of him standing solemnly in line at the checkout, basket hanging from his elbow.

‘I did’ he said ‘I do have basic life skills you know, I’m not a spoiled noble with lackeys to do all my business.’ He paused for a moment thoughtfully ‘In fact I am a lackey’ She sat up eagerly, peering at the bag on the couch.

‘What else do you have?’ she asked, reaching out, but he held it back from her and drew out a tub of ice cream. Her eyes grew wide ‘Bas, you are incredible. You did this for me?’ tears started to her eyes again and this time she let them flow. He scooted next to her, putting the bag on the floor and placing his arm around her shoulder.

‘Hey hey, don’t cry agápe mou’ she soothed. She sobbed and hiccupped for a while

‘You – you’re just so…nobody ever…’ her words were disjointed and he held her tight and kissed the top of her head. She smelled sour but he didn’t care.

‘How could I see my goddess suffer and do nothing?’ He let go of her ‘Now what type of spoon do you want? Tea spoon or dessert? Do you want a bowl?’

‘No bowl – but a teaspoon, I’m not a savage’ she managed to quip, smiling faintly. Bastien chuckled and went to fetch it. She heard him put something into the microwave and presumed it was to heat up a drink. He came back and sat down next to her, handing her the spoon. She opened the tub and drew her knees up, toes curling in anticipation. Bastien smiled fondly as she dug in, and went back to the microwave as it dinged. Wordlessly he handed her a warmed wheat bag as she ate. A look of bliss crossed her face as she let the ice cream melt, feeling the chocolate shapes hard on her tongue then melting slowly. She replaced the hot water bottle with the wheat bag, which she surmised he had just bought from the supermarket. In contrast to the bottle it was soft and pliable and moulded to her belly. She squinted at him.

‘Do you want any?’ she held the tub out to him, but just barely, and reluctantly. He shook his head

‘No, I’m fine. How about a foot rub?’ Her eyes widened

‘I don’t think I could handle Phish food and a foot rub together’ she said incredulously. ‘Not just now’

‘I could run you a hot bath’

‘Mmmm’ she mumbled, settling back into the couch ‘I don’t know, cold ice cream, hot bath. Might upset my stomach’

‘Let me know if you change your mind’ he said, and went back to the kitchenette, coming back with a glass of water and the packet of pills. He popped two out for her and put them into her palm. She held the ice cream tub between her knees, earning a look of disapproval that he quickly hid as she put the pills into her mouth and took the glass to sip some water and gulp them down. She settled back and took a couple more spoonfuls of ice cream. He had barely sat down beside her again before she handed the tub back to him, sighing happily. He rose again to take it back.

‘How about that foot rub?’ she called to him as he put the dessert into their tiny freezer compartment. He smiled and turned back to her, happy to see the contented look on her face. She was puffy and blotchy, but to him she was the most beautiful sight in the world

‘Whatever my goddess desires’ he murmured, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

--------

‘Excuse me? Anton wants to talk to me?’ Liam was incredulous ‘Correct me if I’m wrong Lewis, isn’t he under lock and key and heavily guarded?’ The future Captain of the Guard shuffled nervously.

‘He has the right to a lawyer, and he has anticipated that. He’s demanding to have a meeting with yourself – and Lady Olivia’ Liam frowned grimly and called his secretary in.

‘Call my lawyer again, Scott’ he said to the neatly dressed brunette. ‘Apparently we have to set up a meeting with our new ‘guest’.’ He sighed and turned to Lewis ‘We don’t have to leap to his demands immediately. Tell him I’m arranging it, and let him sweat’

------

It was the next day when Anton and his lawyer sat in a high security prison suite across the table from Liam and his lawyer. Lewis attended to conduct and record the interview, and Bastien sat behind the one way mirror in an adjoining room. Lewis had an earpiece to stay in contact with his superior. Bastien trusted him, but it was crucial that they not miss anything, and two heads were better than one. Lewis turned on the recording equipment and read the opening statement – the date and the attendees, the purpose of the interview, as was standard.

‘Who’s behind the glass, and why isn’t Lady Olivia here as I asked?’ Anton lifted his chin to indicate the security screen.

‘My client is within his rights to know who else is present for this interview apart from the people in this room, and to request whomever he wishes to be present’ the dark haired severe looking lawyer insisted. Lewis kept his expression neutral – something he was well known for, and a valuable asset in his line of work.

‘My supervisor is monitoring the session’ he said truthfully, hoping that the lawyer would not probe further. If he did, he would know how sharp she was and would give some indication of how to deal with her. ‘Also Lady Olivia is observing’ Anton gave a satisfied smirk and raised his hand to the screen in a mock wave.

‘Hello darling wife’ he said ‘You really should come and say hello’ Lewis winced and repositioned his earpiece as Olivia’s reaction was picked up by Bastien’s lip mike. The lawyer inclined his head toward Lewis and Liam.

‘I presume your supervisor to be one Bastien Lykel, responsible for the illegal detention of my client, am I correct?’ Inwardly Lewis cursed,  but he nodded.

‘I would dispute the word ‘illegal’ but otherwise that is correct’ he replied, and Anton smirked again.

‘How interesting that he’s chosen to hide behind a screen. Is he afraid to meet me face to face? He does tend to let his feelings get the better of him in my presence’ he sneered.

‘Unless you have a specific reason to have Mr Lykel in the room, he is entitled to remain where he is’ Liam’s lawyer, Mr Archer said levelly. Anton shrugged dismissively

‘It’s enough that he hears what I have to say. This won’t take long.’

‘Very well then, why did you want to speak to me?’ Liam chimed in. Anton leaned back and gave a wide grin.

‘My client wants to bring charges of treason against your father, yourself and Captain Lykel’ Anton’s lawyer stated. Liam laughed aloud.

‘I’m not aware that you can prosecute a dead man’ he snorted, but Archer put his hand on his arm to quieten him, and leaned forward.

‘On what grounds do you place this charge against the legal monarch of Cordonia?’ he asked shortly

‘On the grounds that Constantine obtained the throne unlawfully, blocking the claim of the Severus family. This charge will of course be posthumous. My client claims to be the rightful King, and claims Lady Olivia Vanderbilt Nevrakis to be his legal wife, to reign by his side as Queen.’ Liam’s fists clenched and he could only imagine what was going on behind the security glass. He kept his mouth shut and let his lawyer speak for him, aware that every word that fell from his lips was, now more than ever, highly significant.

‘Do you have evidence to support this claim?’ Archer asked. In answer the other party placed a folder on the desk between them.

‘I think you’ll find everything you need here’ she said ‘My client has the original documents in a safe place. As you know, if you do not produce an heir within a year of being crowned, you forfeit to the heir of the Nevrakis family anyway. My client simply wants justice for the way his family has been treated  by your Father.’

‘I also protest the abysmal standard of my detention’ Anton continued ‘As a gesture to the future ruling monarch, I demand better accommodation’ Liam knew he had to regain control of the situation, and pulled himself up straight.

‘I will have the papers examined’ he said shortly ‘I will also review the conditions of your detention’

‘I also demand to meet with my wife’ Anton leered. ‘I think you’ll find the papers we’ve just handed you will make it plain that Lady Olivia is my betrothed. No formal ceremony is required’

‘Whether you meet or not is a decision only Lady Olivia can take’ said Liam, thin lipped as Lewis declared the meeting over. ‘Don’t hold your breath, Severus’ he glowered.

Next Chapter 14 Loose Ends 

@emceesynonymroll @sirbeepsalot @cora-nova @stopforamoment @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria​ @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @pedudley @indiacater @texaskitten30​ @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @ladyangel70 @rainbowsinthestorm @nomadics-stuff @gardeningourmet @furiousherringoperatortoad @kimmiedoo5​ @bascmve01  @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @princess-geek

#silver service #protect and serve #bastien lykel #sophia x bastien #OC x Bastien #anton severus

[smilingperformer]

Thoughts on Pocket Monsters - episode NS011

In case anyone’s still unclear: Koharu’s family consists of little brother named Sota, father named Sakuragi, and mother named Yoshino. The name Yoshino appeared in the VA cast, so it’s quite ok to assume it was the name for Koharu’s mom, because it’d be weird to be missing “Koharu’s mom” and still be featured in the ep.

What I absolutely loved about this episode, was how we got fully introduced to Koharu’s daily life, her family and to how each of their dynamics work. Koharu not waking up fully to Wanpachi barking at her, at Sota calling her out, but at her mom stating she won’t be able to do her braids if she doesn’t wake up this instant. But in the most gentle, possible way. Gosh I love Koharu’s mom already.

This episode definitely focused on showing the relationship between Koharu and her mom, while also showing how interacts with her brother. We already know how she interacts with her father Sakuragi, and before this episode, we had no idea Koharu had siblings. Such a wonderful surprise, and I wish to know about Gou’s family now. Please, do deliver, Pocket Monsters!

One of my fav details this ep would definitely be the order of who Wanpachi loves the most and the least. Despite Wanpachi being seen with Sakuragi the most, Wanpachi likes him the least! It does seem like Wanpachi likes the women in this family the most, haha. And won’t eat food from anyone else but Koharu. Is this normal dog behaviour?

Yoshino states how Koharu acts the coldest towards Wanpachi from the family, and I wonder if the translation was done a bit... weird here, because I feel the word cold is kinda... easy to intrepret as mean/rude. Because she isn’t necessarily rude to Wanpachi. Just shows least interest. The word Gou seems to use for this also seems to be Cool instead of Cold. Not sure. Maybe poor choice of words or something.

But still. The way it seems to me, is that Koharu did indeed like Pokémon in the past, as we saw her visiting the PokeCamp with Gou with an open mind and like a happy child, but to borrow Gou’s words, “she didn��t used to act like this, but nowdays she’s kinda cold“. He also says how each person is different, which is a good line, THANK YOU GOU!! Anywho. Later on, we see Koharu getting pressured by her classmates during a class session, where the teacher asks her to tell what her dream is, and before she’s even able to open up, the classmate behind her already chose it for her. And then they started bombing her with questions. Gosh. Eventually asking her whether she likes Pokémon or not, despite being a Professor’s daughter.

It’s quite a relatable scene, and is actually said to have been rude to bomb her with questions like that, so I’m glad the writing suggests viewers to not do such a thing to other people, even when something may seem obvious. She even states during a conversation with her mom, who came to school to bring her lunch, that everyone has so many expectations on her, deciding her future for her, and how she feels unsure. I love how her mom tells her about how she became an Illustrator through her dream of becoming a mangaka, and abandoning it. This is new to Pokeani, as each character kinda either found one goal they end up following, or had a goal already but then drive for a new one (Takeshi/Brock if someone’s confused). Like I said before, Koharu’s mom has ended up being most relatable for me, and that’s quite amusing, and satisfying, to say. I think Koharu’s character has great potential, and this episode built up her character arc’s starting point quite well. She’s a daughter of a Pokémon Professor, who feels pressured by other than her family, and thus feels unsure of whether she wants her future to have to do with Pokémon or not.

Now, of course there’s also the plot of a mischevious Gengar going on in this episode (which I LOVED because I adore Pokeani’s spooky eps and this ep delivered), but I wanted to focus on talking about Koharu, and how her character’s building up to be. I also have to highlight how freaking awesome Wanpachi was this whole episode, and I just freaking adore how it charges at Gengar and then Satoshi HOLD!

It’s just too cute to me, ajshfgshfgshf. Wanpachi’s too angry at Gengar to worry about barking at Satoshi I think, hahaha. And ofc I have to highlight how Gou’s shown to NOT be a battler at all, and focuses more on throwing balls and failing them all lol. Gengar is WAY too tough.

Just sajfhgsjhf. Thank you. This is what we needed after the first 9 eps. Feels good.

Also like... Wanpachi is first so focused on finding this spooky scary crazed Gengar, but the moment it hears the door, it gets a freaking heart emote up and runs to the door, knowing it’s Koharu. It freaking forgets about the whole happenings just to run to Koharu, awwwwww Wanpachi loves her so much ILOVEOURWANWAN

But then, Gengar attacks Koharu, and Wanpachi freakings locks in on this ghost Pokémon, not leaving it out of its sight and just... growling at it.

Boys got caught up in the psychic, but they seemed surprised by how determined Wanpachi is on protecting Koharu. Gee. Satoshi was just told Koharu acts sorta cold on Pokémon nowdays, yet Wanpachi is so determined to protect. I love it. And even after Koharu hesitates to command it, due to not having experience, she seems to realise just how much Wanpachi loves her and is willing to protect her, so she finally crasps onto it and lets Wanpachi battle at her command. And it’s an awesome moment.

In a span of one episode, we learned so much about Koharu, to the point where I feel like we know more about Koharu than we know about Gou. And that’s just... amusing. lol. But y’know what? Koharu just because my favourite of the cast, and it makes me so sad she appears so little right now. But I think, after this episode’s bonding with Wanpachi and learning to love Pokémon a bit more again, she’ll soon have more interest in maybe finally seeing our boys’ Pokémon as well. She just needs time, as the outside pressure can be taunting. I’m sure she’ll be able to overcome and find a dream that fits her the best. I wouldn’t be surprised if she will become a professor of a kind, but on a different field.

One thing’s for sure: my already big love for Wanpachi as a species grew up ten fold thanks to this episode, and I now know that I am most definitely a fan of Koharu. Well done on writing her first focus episode, Aya Matsui. Well done.

The end of my thoughts on latest episode of Pocket Monsters 2019. Mainly focusing on Koharu’s bits. Because I don’t have time for more lol. Hope you enjoyed reading, cya next week when Leon/Dande vs Lance/Wataru happens as we return to Galar for World Championship!

#aleira watches ns #ns011 #pokemon #pokeani #pokemon ns #discussions #koharu #wanpachi #sota #yoshino #koharu's family #ash ketchum #satoshi #gou #got one gifset to do as I got an idea and I could not fit it here #analysis #pokeani 2019 #long post #renji #kikuna #pikachu #hibunny #scorbunny #gengar #fav eps #professor sakuragi

[snarkwrites]

06 | gangsta ; sweetpea

Notes:

So.. the sexual tension. The longing. The lingering touches and all that awkward but cute shit.. That’s starting here. Can we say sloooow burn? Because considering I’m now six chapters deep and they really haven’t... Done too much as far as touching / flirting / interacting, yeah.. That’s what this is. If you weren’t looking for a slow burn, I’m honestly not sure what to tell you? Other than oops? Oh.. Also.. this chapter and the next one I’m posting will have a few days lapse between them as far as timing. So... just so you know. It’s alluded that Sweet Pea and Alyssa have kind of bumped into each other between this chapter and the next one, if that makes sense.

Also.. I’ve pretty much planned out what stuff I am using / changing a little now, so that’s good. I have a general idea. I might even add my own events / plots to this. I’m kind of.. tempted.

Warnings:

non canon compliant - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are... definitely not going to like this. angst & slow burn, heavy sexual tension starting now, actually - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. violence / swearing & fighting, possible underage drinking and other shenanigans - look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?... eventual sexual content / a virgin original character - this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there.

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - five - soundtrack ]

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn​ is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. Please, I beg. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

                                                     SIX.

“You could come up to the lake house with us. It beats sitting around here moping.” Veronica spoke up as she stepped in front of the television set in my father’s living room. I tried to peer around her, grumbling because naturally, she’d pick the one scene in the entire episode I’d been dying to see since I started to re-watch the show and she’d block it.

“You realize I am trying to see Charlie Hunnam’s bare ass right now, right?” I asked calmly. Reaching for the half melted pint of butter pecan ice cream on the table in front of me and my spoon. Nodding to the empty spot on the couch that wasn’t taken up by my legs. Veronica sat down and for a few minutes, neither of us really said anything.

“What’s your attraction to this show?”

“Jax Teller, Opie Winston... Motorcycles.. But mostly Jax Teller.”

“Which one is he?”

“The blond with the very nice backside.” I nodded towards the shot I’d been waiting an entire season for, Jax Teller getting out of the shower and walking across the room.

“You definitely don’t have a type, no, not at all.” Veronica gave a soft laugh as she muttered the words. With the scene out of the way, I turned to the side to look at her.

“I’m not even going to ask what you meant by that.” I muttered.

Things were always awkward and tense between us. We were polite. But that was about the extent of it. And I felt bad about it. Obviously not bad enough to actually make an effort, even though she seemed like a really nice girl and she made my brother really happy. Happier than he’s been in a long time if I’m being honest.

I just couldn’t get past the rift her family caused in mine.

Then there was her mother, trying to hook up with my father while her actual husband was locked up in prison… But mostly, the tension her father caused between my father and my brother.

“Listen.. I heard everything that happened between you and Reggie. And if you want to come to the lake house..”

I shook my head. “ I am not crashing on the whole double date getaway you guys have going on. Besides, I doubt I’d be good company right now.”

“You wouldn’t be crashing!” Veronica was quick to speak up. “I know you don’t like me. But your brother loves you and I really.. I want to try to get to know you.”

I nodded. Taking a deep breath as I admitted quietly, “It’s not you, okay? Look. I have zero problem with you. It’s all the crap that’s going on with my brother and your dad. I’m… I’m worried about him and how far he’ll go.”

Veronica sighed. We went quiet again and she admitted after a few minutes, “I am too. If you want the truth, I don’t really like how close my dad is to him either. I don’t trust it.”

I eyed her, a brow raised.

“That’s like a dream situation though. If your father likes him, you don’t have to worry about him resorting to any of his typical clownery to end things with you two.” I curled the ends of my hair around my fingertip as I tried to understand why she wouldn’t like her father and my brother bonding a little.

Then it hit me. It had to feel awkward. Your father popping in to borrow your boyfriend. But the look on her face told me that wasn’t the only reason.

“I know what my father’s capable of. And the more I try to stop it, the more he manages to get by with. I hate everything he’s done, okay? I just.. Wanted you to know that.”

I let her words sink in.

Eyeing her as I weighed mine. Managing a smile.

“You make my brother happy. I like him happy. So if you really want to try and get to know each other, we can. But I’m not going to intrude on you guys weekend get away, because one, awkward as hell and two, I can imagine that already happens enough with your dad butting in to get him to do something or another.”

Veronica nodded, smiling. “I understand. What are you going to do this weekend?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m probably going to rewind that one scene five million times and burn it in my mind… I thought about going down to the theater and catching that horror marathon but I dunno.” I shrugged.

“A horror movie by yourself?”

“Mhm.”

After my brother came downstairs, the two of them left for the weekend and I locked the door behind them, leaning against it. Wandering over to my dad’s stereo, turning it on a hard rock station I listened to when I was home by myself just to drive out the lack of noise in the house.

I wandered into the kitchen, gathering up dirty dishes and moving them to the sink. Taking chicken out of our freezer to thaw because I thought about making chicken parmesan for me and dad when dad got off work tonight.

Vegas wandered into the kitchen and dropped his leash at my feet with a soft thud. I stopped what I was doing to lean down and pet him, nodding to the door. “In a few minutes, buddy. I’ll go find pants.”

I finished piling dishes into the sink and I wandered into the laundry room, digging around in the dryer for the jeans I’d taken off earlier, tugging them up. The door bell was literally being leaned on and I froze.

Took a few deep breaths and reminded myself that all the Black Hood nonsense was behind Riverdale because the guy was dead. Thinking it was Archie and he forgot something and was in a hurry, I made my way over to the door, unlocking it. “Hold on, Archie, damn.”

It wasn’t Archie.

Reggie stood there.

“What do you want?” I scowled.

“I miss you, okay? This is driving me crazy. Can we at least just talk about what you heard?”

“What exactly is there left to say? You were basically gambling on my virginity.” I frowned and shook my head. Shivering as the wind picked up a little.

“We can go inside and talk, Alyssa.”

“I just told you. I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Look… what you did hurt, okay? Because  I thought… nevermind.” I muttered, going quiet. Blowing at bangs I’d just gotten cut earlier in the week. He reached out to attempt pushing my hair out of my eyes and I leaned away. Vegas yelped impatiently from the doorway, his leash in his mouth now.

Seeing Reggie, he started to make his way over. Reggie bent to pet the dog and I cleared my throat. “You need to go.”

“Just let me say what I came to say.”

I tapped a bare foot against white painted wood slats and tilted my head, gazing up at him. Waiting.

“The only reason I made the stupid bet to begin with is because you’re literally the one girl I couldn’t work up the nerve to flirt with. And when I did, my charm didn’t work on you. Kinda when I started to fall. You gave me a hard time, princess.”

“ I kind of wish I’d stuck to that, actually.” I muttered. “All you had to do, Reggie, was just talk to me? Ask me on a date, I don’t know…”

“I was stupid, okay?” Reggie went quiet. Stepped a little closer. “ I love you. When I made the bet, I didn’t know how I felt about you at all. Then I started to fall and I tried to get out of the bet, Alyssa, you have to believe me. I tried to tell you but every time I’d think about it, I’d freak out because you’re the first actual good thing I’ve had in my life in a while, okay?”

I scoffed. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

“I mean it. And I’m not going to stop trying to prove it.”

I shrugged. “Do whatever you want but I’m not guaranteeing it will work. I already went against my gut instinct and gave you a chance to begin with.”

I shivered a little, hugging myself. Reggie placed his hands on my upper arms, rubbing them. Gazing down at me.

“Reggie, you need to go. I just need to think.”

“Thinking is better than you saying you hate me now… I just.. You were my best friend when we were kids.. Then I kinda fell for you and now stuff just sucks.. I don’t have my best friend or the girl I love. Anything is better than nothing.”

Reggie left and I walked back inside, flinging myself at the couch. Pulling myself together for a few seconds. Really letting what he said sink in. Trying to figure out if I felt the same thing. Or if I felt anything at all.

I finally gave up trying to force myself into a decision and after leashing Vegas, I wandered out into the chilly night air. Down to Pickens Park because Vegas likes to wander around the big grassy area between the ballfields and the playground.

After playing  fetch with a stick Vegas bought over to me, I flopped onto the grass. Vegas settled beside me and I found myself just kind of lounging there lazily, watching the clouds roll over the darkening sky lazily. Pointing at constellations when I spotted one. Vegas seemed content to just lounge there, his head resting on my stomach with me lazily giving him behind the ear skritches.

A throat cleared from nearby.

Sweet Pea stepped out, hands in his pockets. Wandering over to where I’d lazily flopped onto the grass. Sitting down nearby with his back against the tree. Close but keeping a healthy distance between us.

“Do you always lay in the park at night and talk to your dog?”

“What if I do?” I answered, rolling onto my stomach, propping on my elbow to gaze at him, my hair promptly cascading in front of my face like a messy red curtain.

“Damn it. I should’ve just chopped it all off.” I grumbled, pushing my hair out of my eyes to look at him.

“You’d look hideous bald.” Sweet Pea flashed me a teasing smirk.

“Hmphf.” I grumbled in response to his comment. “What brings you to the boring side of town?”

Sweet Pea shrugged. “Wyrm was crowded. Full of shouting kids and shit. I wanted to take a walk.”

“Toni and Cheryl went to see that movie tonight.” I laughed softly. “They asked me if I wanted to go but I said I wanted to stay home. Kind of just not feeling it. Then my brother’s girlfriend asked if I wanted to go on that weekend trip they all took.”

“You could be soaking in a hot tub right now.” Sweet Pea teased, a lesser seen teasing smile tugging at his mouth as he glanced at me.

“Honestly? I’d rather eat glass than indulge in anything Hiram Lodge is a part of. I’ll be nice to Veronica and try to get to know her, but that’s pretty much it. You know he brought my brother a car, right?”

“Yeah. I heard.” Sweet Pea answered, glancing over at me.

“Dad wasn’t thrilled with it either. That’s fine. Absolutely fine. I want Dad’s truck anyway. I’ll just spend weekends helping dad work on it. It’ll be more time I can spend with the grumpy old man.” I smiled to myself. One good thing about moving to Riverdale was that I was finally getting to spend more time with my father and my brother.

“You couldn’t even see over the wheel though. Can you even drive to begin with?” Sweet Pea shot me a teasing glance. Quick to step away from me just a little further, raising his hands. “I’m not trying to invoke the wrath of the midget.”

“It’s called a booster seat, asshole. And actually yeah. I do okay at driving. I mean aside from a go kart incident back in Chicago...” I teased right back, the two of us sharing a laugh that fell silent.

Sweet Pea stood, holding out a hand.

I eyed his hand and sat up, grabbing hold. Letting him pull me off the grass. Vegas rose to sit on his hind legs, then made his way over, sitting down right between Sweet Pea and I.. the little space that remained, there is. When he’d pulled me up, he’d pulled me with enough force that I wound up barely pressed against him. Close enough that my breath caught in my throat for a few seconds.

We sprang apart. Sweet Pea’s hand settled on top of Vegas’ head lazily and he chuckled when Vegas licked his hand, wiping his hand on the thigh of his jeans.

“It’s late. And colder.” Sweet Pea pointed out, nodding in the direction of my house. I glanced up at the sky and unable to resist, I retorted, “You don’t say, captain obvious.”

I jumped back out of his way a little and he stepped up. Towering over me.

“C’mon. I’ll walk you back.”

“But sir. I have a perfectly capable guard dog? What would the upstanding hypocritical assholes on this street think.. A  big bad Serpent walking defenseless little me home?” I pretended to pout up at him, laughing softly. “I was joking.” I muttered a few seconds later.

He shook his head, muttered something I couldn’t quite make out and we started to walk down the sidewalk, towards my father’s house.

The streetlight flickered on above us, bathing us in soft and almost hazy lighting thanks to the fog that was starting to kind of set in.

The leaves crunched beneath my feet. Shattering this heavy air of silence that seemed to settle over us.

“I’m gonna.. Go. Back to the Wyrm.” Sweet Pea muttered abruptly a few seconds later. Lingering, even though he said he’d leave. Gazing down at me as if he were in a daze. Or caught up in his own thoughts. A million miles away.

“I need to get Vegas in the house.” I muttered, nipping at my lip as I held eye contact. Trying not to think about what I’d revealed to Cheryl and Toni a few days ago about maybe being attracted to him… But it was all I could think about at the moment. His eyes darted down, settling on my bottom lip. Then he shook his head, turning swiftly and disappearing around the corner up the street.

I walked inside, making the comment to Vegas, “That wasn’t weird at all, huh buddy?” Vegas just tilted his head, gazing up at me. I bent to take off his leash, hanging it up. Fluffing his fur before hurrying into the kitchen to grab myself a soda.

Settling in on the couch. Turning the television back on.

And promptly falling asleep in the middle of a rewatch of the first season of Punisher. And as I slept, I found myself dreaming about Reggie. And then, oddly enough, Sweet Pea.

When I woke up the next morning, it was to a few seconds of confusion because the dream I’d woken up from had been so vivid that I honestly thought it actually happened. I pouted as soon as the realization sunk in that it had been a dream.

And I grumbled in annoyance with myself because I wanted it to be real. Because lately, spending all this time around Sweet Pea, I was starting to feel like maybe I didn’t just think he was hot.

Maybe I actually did feel something.

Before that thought could take root, I was shoving it back out of my head again. Refusing to acknowledge it. Because the hot guys are always the ones that somehow manage to do the most damage. And I was still pretty hurt over the way things played out with Reggie. Afraid to open myself up. Afraid to trust. Afraid to try, if I’m being honest because I was at least 95 percent sure that Sweet Pea would probably laugh his ass off at me if I were dumb enough to do so.

#sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea fanfic #sweetpea imagines #sweetpea fic #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fic #my writing ; sweetpea #my fanfiction ; sweetpea #my fics ; sweetpea #// i am so proud of this even though it's totally flopped.

[unpeumacabre]

my kingdom for a horse: chapter 1

the year is 1601, a messenger has been sent to dongnae, and he has not returned. lord cho-hak-ju advises the joseon king to send crown prince lee chang to dongnae to investigate, but the plot he unravels there threatens the safety of the entire kingdom, and the stability of the dynasty.

a rewriting of kingdom, and lee chang finds love.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Lee Chang/Yeong-shin

Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting)

Count: 7k

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A/N: ummmmm so basically i wanted to rewrite kingdom... with a yeong-shin/lee chang twist... and it turned out as a massive lee chang character study lol. the plot borrows elements from the drama but is quite different - i wanted to bring out certain aspects of the characters and tone down on some of them a little more. the story is mostly complete, i'm just in the midst of editing, so updates will be weekly. enjoy~

Survive.

Lee Chang gathers the reins of his horse in his hands, and looks out towards the horizon. The sun is waning, and Mu-yeong is complaining about the flies, and Lee Chang still feels the heat of anger and injustice scorching his skin.

He had been there when the King had sent the messenger to Dongnae – a routine check it had been, nothing more. Apparently, Cho Hak-ju and his spies had heard murmurs of a rebellion in the South, and he had whispered his foul poison into the King’s ear, convincing him to send a messenger to Dongnae to put the magistrate on his guard.

Lee Chang had also been there when the messenger’s horse had returned, bereft of its rider, and bereft of its message.

“Why not send the Prince to investigate?” had been Cho Hak-ju’s answer. “We must send someone reliable this time, someone who will not shirk his mission. And the Prince must have been so bored of late. There is little to occupy his scholarly mind in recent days, what with everyone being occupied preparing for the new prince’s birth.”

“Why not send Beom-il? Surely your son is more experienced than I am at these matters,” Lee Chang had answered, and he had felt the strain of his smile stretch tight against his cheekbones.

“Of course, but Beom-il is indisposed at the moment. He has been sent to oversee the setting up of the new regiment at Haeju, and will not return for a few days more.”

He was an odious snake, he was, Lee Chang thought bitterly, but still the King had acquiesced.

His only modicum of hope lay in the words the King had said to him that night, as they took their private dinner together – a rarity, now that most of his time was occupied with the queen and her increasingly-rounded belly.

“It pains me to say this, but…” the King had picked at his food. “There is something brewing in the south, although I do not believe it to be the rebellion that Lord Cho is suggesting.”

Lee Chang personally thought there was nothing in it, but then again, he didn’t have the extensive network of spies the King and Cho Hak-ju seemed to have. He could not – and probably never will – understand how one can trust men who live in the shadows and trade secrets – and lives – for their livelihood. Perhaps it would not make him a good king, but Lee Chang wanted to believe that it would make him a better one instead.

“I want you to investigate what the Haewon Cho clan is up to in the south,” the King had then said, and Lee Chang had almost fallen from his seat.

“Father, why?” he had asked, a perfectly reasonable question. He well remembered the times in his youth when Cho Hak-ju had said something insulting to him or done something to side-line him, something so serious that he had felt the need to go to the King for recompense. Every single time, he could recall being brushed off and told “Lord Cho thinks only of the good of the nation” and “you would do well to heed his teachings”. Never had the King shown even a hint of resentment or suspicion of the Haewon Cho clan’s leader, and Lee Chang had always thought his trust in Cho Hak-ju unshakeable.

Not so unshakeable, it seemed. A shadow had crossed the King's face then, and he had turned away as if to hide his face.

“I did not believe it when first the Head of the Royal Commandery brought it to my attention,” the King had said then, “but Cho Beom-il has been implicated in several – well, shall we say, unsavoury deals, and Lord Min’s investigations point to Lord Cho at their head. But he has been very careful to cover his tracks, and the evidence is, while convincing, mostly circumstantial.”

Lee Chang had taken a sip of his wine, his throat suddenly dry. “And of my role in all this?” he had managed. “Why send me? Surely by doing so we are playing precisely into Lord Cho’s hands.”

“I do not yet know what he plans,” the King had replied, shaking his head. “All I have are ominous tidings from my spies in Sangju and Dongnae that there is something nefarious being planned, but Lord Cho – if it is indeed he behind it – is an intelligent man. He has not yet let anything slip. If we must play into his hands, at least for now, just know that you go as my envoy, my emissary, and not the messenger boy of the Haewon Cho clan. I trust only my son to carry this through for me.”

“I wish to see my son, and I miss my wife,” Mu-yeong complains, and it snaps Lee Chang back to reality. He huffs out an exasperated laugh at the familiar refrain.

“At least she will be well-taken care of while you are gone,” he says, letting the amusement thread through his voice. “Where did you say she was staying while you are with me?”

“With her aunt, in Naesonjae. Her brother has found work in the queen’s palace, so they have enough money to put her up at least until I return,” Mu-yeong answers, and punctuates his answer with an enormous, put-upon sigh.

“That is good,” Lee Chang says absently. “At least you need not steal desserts from my table any longer to feed her.”

“Your Highness – you said you wouldn’t - ” splutters Mu-yeong, his face turning beet red, as he spins around in his horse to check on the entourage of three guards following them. Thankfully for him, they are bickering among themselves about something inconsequential, and Lee Chang dismisses them as not having heard anything.

“We must find somewhere to make camp soon,” he decides, looking back towards the horizon, and the sun’s fading rays colouring it red.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Mu-yeong replies, and he slows his horse to tell the guards.

Very quickly, they find a clearing in which to make camp, and Lee Chang grooms his horse while the guards and Mu-yeong start the fire. When the fire is sufficiently large, he sits by it and unwraps the jangguk mandu prepared for him that morning by his chefs. The smell of pork and kimchi wafts like sweet perfume from the wrappings, and he catches the guards looking at him enviously from the corner of their eyes, as they dig into their mieum. The gruel splatters over the grass as they eat.

One of the guards’ voices drifts over to him on the wind. “Royals are lucky,” he says, a thread of envy in his voice. “Jangguk mandu and tteokguk for dinner. What I would do for some meat.”

“Hush,” Mu-yeong says, glancing over at Lee Chang, but he pretends not to hear their conversation, and Mu-yeong returns his attention to the guards, reassured. “You know meat is a luxury us peasants cannot afford, especially in these trying times.”

“Yeah? You’d think the royals and the lords don’t know of the ongoing famine. The other day, I was on guard for Lord Park, and he left a whole dish of goldongban untouched. Untouched!” There is a collective groan from the group.

“What I wouldn’t do for some beef and eggs,” agrees one of the others, fervently.

“My mother died of illness last month. She wasted away,” comes the quiet voice of the last guard. “And when you think of all the food that’s left on the royals’ tables…” He shakes his head, and fumbles in his pockets. “I only have my daughter and my dear wife left, and the little girl’s so much like her grandmother. Worries about me all the time. She made me this talisman to keep me safe.” He displays the charm, and Lee Chang can vaguely see the childish drawings on the blue fabric, accompanied by words he is too far away to read.

He looks down at his mandu. Suddenly, the dumplings no longer seem as inviting.

Lee Chang thinks of offering them his food, then. Thinks of unwrapping the rest of the packages tethered to his horse, and sharing the food among the guards, because, if he’s honest, there was far too much food packed for him alone.

But something holds him back. Pride, perhaps, or irrational fear, that they will hate him even more for what they might construe as his pity.

And now it is too late. Before he could come to a a decision, the guards had finished their food, and now they are standing up, stretching, and sorting out the watch schedule. Mu-yeong comes over to him and notices his untouched meal.

“You must eat, Your Highness,” he urges, his tone teasing.

But when Lee Chang turns his face up to face him, Mu-yeong must see something in his face, for he squats down, his eyes turning liquid and understanding.

“Your Highness is different from the rest of the nobles,” he murmurs, under his breath so the other guards do not hear. “You did not execute my family when you caught me stealing from your table to provide for my wife. You did not execute the maid when she ruined your second-best coat with her shoddy washing skills. You did not execute the chef when he cooked you kongguksu for dinner, forgetting soy beans give you sleepless nights. That mercy is far above what any other noble is capable of – ah, now, don’t blush, Your Highness – you know it to be true! Don’t be embarrassed.”

Lee Chang scoffs and turns away. “Be quiet, or I shall execute your whole family,” he mutters under his breath.

“Isn’t it about time you stopped joking about that?” Mu-yeong cries, aghast. “Such a threat from the Crown Prince holds more weight than you think!”

Lee Chang glares at him out of the corner of his eye, then sighs, and turns his attention away. He begins unpacking the linens with which he is to make his bed, and tries not to smile; but he is sure the way his lips twitch, gives him away.

Satisfied that he has restored his prince’s spirits, Mu-yeong returns to the rest of the guards, who have been watching their exchange with some curiosity. Lee Chang strains to hear their conversation as they welcome his guard back to their side with a comradely clap to the back, but it is late, and the hard riding of the morning has driven all the energy from his bones.

The ground is hard against his back, and it is with the unhappy feeling of rocks digging pinpricks of pain into his skin, that he finally drifts into a restless slumber.

***

He is in the King’s study, staring at the irworobongdo behind the King’s desk and thinking to himself, “I will never be king.”

The King’s great-grandfather, his great-great-grandfather, had had the folding screens installed behind his desk in his room in Gyeongbokgung Palace during his reign, to emulate the irworobongdo behind the royal throne where he held court. Lee Chang had been told by his nurse as a boy that the former King, his great-great-grandfather, had used the paintings to intimidate whoever was unlucky enough to be called to his study for an audience. After the Second War of Jeong-yu, three years ago, Gyeongbokgung had been razed to ashes, they had moved here into Changdeokgung as the main palace, and the current King had decided to adopt the same practice as his great-grandfather.

It makes a majestic sight for sure, the five peaks rising above the head of the King, flanked by the two moons, conifers, and streams running down from the mountains. Lee Chang had often been called here in his youth, and one of his earliest – and most vivid – memories is of standing before the King, only nine years old, on his knees and crying. He remembers having been summoned for some small prank he had played on one of the guards. He remembers the King’s back, tall and stately, looming above him, his arms crossed behind him, and his voice: “You are the Crown Prince, Lee Chang. Such childish frivolities are beneath you. You must always act with the maturity and dignity required of your station.”

Yet he cannot remember the King’s face.

So now, he fixes his gaze blankly on the third and middle peak of the irworobongdo, as the King strides leisurely across the room, watching him.

“Did you hear me, Chang?” he says, and his voice is quiet.

“Yes,” Lee Chang manages. “That is wonderful news. You have informed the ministers, then? That Her Highness is with child?”

“Yes, yes,” the King replies, waving his hand airily. “They have given their best wishes, of course. I am sure he will be a beautiful baby boy.”

Or a girl, Lee Chang’s mind whispers, but somehow he knows in his bones that it will be a boy. Cho Hak-ju is not known for his errors.

The King is still watching him. Lee Chang does not know what he is expecting to see.

Then he turns his head away, sighs, and gestures imperiously towards Lee Chang, beckoning him forward. Lee Chang steps forward and kneels at the King's feet. He feels like that nine-year-old child all over again; but the difference is that, in the years between then and now, he has learned not to cry.

“Chang,” the King says, and Lee Chang feels a hand in his hair, a gentle touch which catches him by surprise. “You have survived, as I commanded you to. And you are all that a father can ever ask for. All that a nation can ask for in its prince. When this child comes, you will no longer be destined to be king. But you will still be a prince, and that is all that matters.”

“Is it?” Lee Chang whispers. “I have been brought up to be a king, with the expectation that one day, it was to be I who would sit on the Phoenix Throne and command the kingdom of Joseon. And now I realise that all that will have been for nothing.”

The King sighs again. “Not for nothing,” he amends. “Your brother will need you as he grows. You are experienced both in scholarship and military command. Do not dismiss yourself so easily.” The hand in his hair disappears, and Lee Chang finds himself strangely bereft.

When next he looks up again, the King is sitting at his desk, reading. The third peak glimmers in the light of his lamp, directly above his head. Lee Chang takes it as a dismissal.

“Chang,” the King says, as Lee Chang turns to leave. He turns back to face him, and the King’s eyes are molten gold.

“Remember,” he says. “Survive.” And he opens his mouth, and emits a piercing scream.

Lee Chang is jolted from his slumber and scrambles for the handle of his sword. He whips around and the blade points directly at Mu-yeong’s throat.

“Your Highness,” Mu-yeong gasps, his hand still on Lee Chang’s shoulder, where he has clearly been trying to rouse Lee Chang from his sleep. “We are under attack!”

Lee Chang’s mind immediately flies to Cho Hak-ju’s miserable face, but he quickly dismisses the notion. There is hardly any legitimate reason Cho can find to hunt him down, after all – Lee Chang’s plans had not been ready to set in motion before he had left the capital.

“By who?” he roars, instead. “Who dares attack – “ He is cut off by another piercing yell, this time of pain, and he turns in time to see one of the guards fall to the ground, a man covered in bloody rags clinging to his throat.

Immediately he leaps forward and buries his blade in the back of the attacker. The blow is harsh, and carves a deep line to the bone. The man jerks and convulses, falling off the guard and rolling onto the ground. Lee Chang is repulsed to see that his face is covered in blood, and that his teeth had been buried in the guard’s throat.

Quickly he bends down and shakes the guard. “Are you alright?” he asks roughly, scanning the wound. It is a bad bite, it is, and the attacker had torn out a good chunk of flesh when he had fallen off the body. It needs bandaging, and so Lee Chang rips off a piece of cloth from the hem of his coat. He pulls the fabric around the guard’s neck, making sure not to pull it too tight and obstruct his breathing, then he ties it off with a quick bow.

It is only Mu-yeong’s reflexes which save him from certain death, in those next few moments.

The man who had been lying on the ground – who had clearly been dead, no one could survive such a blow and live – had sprung up from his supine position and leapt for Lee Chang’s throat. He is too slow to react, and when he turns, the man’s breath is hot on his neck, in the instant before Mu-yeong’s blade whistles past him and separates the attacker’s head from his body.

Lee Chang falls back in disbelief, his bottom hitting the ground, and stares unseeingly at the head on the ground, its teeth bared in a foul approximation of a smile.

“How?” he asks, blankly. “He was dead. I buried my blade in his back myself. I severed his spinal cord. He should be dead.”

Another scream of pain attracts his attention, and he looks away in time to see the other two guards fall, and descended upon by more raggedy attackers. Lee Chang feels his stomach roil as he realises one of the smaller figures among the pack, is that of a child. His hand flies to the handle of his sword, and he is about to rise to his feet and run to the rescue, when he feels the body under his other hand begin to tremble.

“Your Highness,” Mu-yeong says warningly, but Lee Chang hardly needs his words to recognise the mottled colour spreading across the downed guard’s face, and the milky film descending over his eyes. He recognises that face, for he has seen it just moments before – on the head that is now sitting, eyes unseeing, among the blood-stained blades of grass.

Purely on instinct, his body leaps back from the guard, and he watches in horror as the guard begins to writhe and shake, as if caught in a fit. His neck arches backwards, beyond what is humanely possible, and his mouth falls open, froth drooling from his jowls. It is the most terrible thing Lee Chang has ever seen.

“Are you alright?” he calls, urgently. No answer, as the man continues to fit.

Then, suddenly, eerily, he stops moving.

“We must get medical help for him,” Lee Chang says urgently, glancing up at Mu-yeong. “He is on the brink of death!”

But Mu-yeong is not looking at him. Lee Chang follows his gaze, and although his body is screaming at him to run, he finds he cannot move. The sight before him is so horrific, it is beyond anything in his worst nightmares.

The other two guards, with their throats torn out and blood gushing from numerous wounds all over their body, are also convulsing on the ground. One of them – the one who had been, only just last night, bemoaning his lack of meat and the royals’ frivolity – has had his eye torn out. The eyeball dangles, almost comically, from the empty cavity of his eye socket, except that there is nothing laughable about this situation at all. Lee Chang turns his head to the side and retches.

As he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, he hears Mu-yeong suck in a sharp breath. “Your Highness,” he says, and his voice is small. “Your Highness!” he repeats, this time louder, and with more urgency. Lee Chang lifts his head, and the group of attackers is looking straight at them.

“They see us,” hisses Mu-yeong frantically. “Your Highness, we must run!”

Lee Chang springs to his feet, but something catches his ankle in a vice-like grip, and he almost falls. He turns, and the body of the third guard – who he had thought stone-cold dead, after his fits! – has roused itself. He is leering up at him, teeth bared grotesquely, and its claws digging into the skin of his ankle.

He is no longer human, some primal instinct of his tells him, and so he does not hesitate.

Again, his blade strikes honest and true, and cuts deep into the body’s abdomen – a blow that would fell any normal man. But the body does not falter, and rears upwards, sword still buried in his stomach, intestines spewing out, his jaws gnashing and aiming straight towards Lee Chang’s face.

Lee Chang yanks the blade from its stomach with a motion that jars his shoulder, for how deep it is buried in the other man’s abdomen. The movement hoists the creature up towards him, and Lee Chang feels its fetid breath against his nose for one terrifying moment – makes contact with its sightless eyes for barely a second – before he swings and takes the body’s head off.

He can’t hear the thud of the head as it hits the ground, and belatedly he realises that the ground is shaking.

“Your Highness, we must flee! Now!” Mu-yeong yells, and grabs his shoulder. Lee Chang springs up and grabs his pack from the ground, where it is lying next to him.

And so they fly, the pursuers hot on their heels. Lee Chang has never run so fast in his life. He feels his heart beating a thousand miles an hour, thrumming through his ears, counting out the beat of his steps as they sprint over the dry grass and across the plain.

They are running too fast to stop, however, when they reach the cliff. There is barely a split second as they see the water loom before them, Mu-yeong looks at him, and his mouth forms an ‘o’ – Lee Chang would laugh, at the surrealism of the entire situation, if he weren’t working so hard to keep from breaking down. He says some words his wet nurse would have shook him upside down for.

And then they hit the water. The impact is like hitting a wall, and it drives all the air out of his lungs. He feels himself begin to sink, his heavy silk clothes quickly absorbing the water and lending him the weight of a stone, and the water bites cold frost into his skin.

Desperately, he kicks towards the surface, feeling his head throb with the pain of his lack of air. The moonlight is bright above the water’s surface, so near yet so far, as if the moon itself is taunting him. His limbs are a leaden weight, and he barely feels himself move. He cannot breathe.

Then suddenly he breaks the surface of the water with a gasp, and air – blessed air – rushes into his lungs. The cold air stings his reddened cheeks, and he already feels the ache of bruises beginning to form, from his intimate contact with the hard surface of the water.

“Mu-yeong!” he yells hoarsely, when he does not see the guard’s head. Moments later, the man breaks the surface, gasping and flailing, his sodden hair and clothes clinging miserably to his skin. Lee Chang knows he looks no better.

“They are too afraid to jump!” Mu-yeong calls to him, his voice bright with relief, pointing at the cliff’s edge. Indeed, the attackers are gathered above them, staring sombrely down at the two of them paddling in the water. There is one unlucky man who evidently was unable to slow his run, and is now clinging to the cliff face.

As they watch, he slips and plunges into the water. He does not come back up.

“It is a miracle,” Lee Chang says in disbelief. “They are afraid of the water.”

“Probably afraid of freezing to – well, death, if that’s even an appropriate word for them,” Mu-yeong says grimly. “And so will we, if we stay here much longer. The sun is rising, and I can see lights over there – there must be a village, or a camp of some sort. We must make for it before we freeze to death.”

With a nod of assent on Lee Chang’s part, they paddle dolefully to the opposite shore and haul themselves up. The wind is cruel and relentless, and Lee Chang feels his teeth begin to chatter. They lie prone on the ground, chests heaving in tune, arms spread akimbo, and staring unseeingly up at the beautiful night sky.

“C-c-c-curse this autumn wind,” cries Mu-yeong. “I am only thankful that it is not winter. We w-w-would be dead by now, if t-that were the case.”

Lee Chang laughs. But halfway through, it devolves into a sob, and he somehow finds the energy to sit up.

He barely makes it up before he feels his stomach revolt, and he throws up all over the ground. The remnants of meat in his vomit remind him of the chunks of flesh the creatures had torn off the guards’ bodies, and the memory makes him heave again. This time nothing comes up.

He turns, and Mu-yeong is shaking with quiet sobs, his jaw clenched and  his eyes blinking furiously as he tries to hold back tears. It is the first time Lee Chang has ever seen Mu-yeong cry.

“Mu-yeong.” Lee Chang calls his name, and the gentleness of his voice surprises even him. The guard turns to him, eyes glassy with unshed tears, and his fist stuffed in his mouth to block his sobs. Lee Chang tries to find the right things to say.

“They were good, honest men,” he says, at last. “I did not know them very long, but I could tell that they were good men. We will honour their memories and their bravery in the face of unholy evil.”

Mu-yeong chokes out a laugh, and it is an ugly sound. “They were bloody awful at times,” he says, casting his eyes away. “We always quarrelled. They begrudged me my role as your guard, and always teased me for only passing the exam in my forties, when they had done so in their youth.” He pauses to wipe at the sides of his eyes, and when he continues, his voice is quiet.

“But they were good men,” he says, and his voice is full of affection. “You are right, Your Highness. They were honest, and hardworking, and brave. They did not deserve the death they received.”

The sun is rising, and the heat of its rays takes the edge off the cold. Lee Chang tries to ignore the sour stench of his own vomit, and stares off into the horizon. Their attackers are no longer gathered at the cliff’s edge, from what he can make out.

“They were ungodly abominations,” he says lowly, recalling the dark patterns that had been spread across their faces and exposed skin, and the rotting flesh that had been falling off their bodies. “I do not know how it is that they were able to sustain blows that would kill any normal man, nor why they were feeding on human flesh. But they are still on the other side of the river, and I fear for the villages we passed on our way.”

“What will we do, Your Highness?” asks Mu-yeong, and some semblance of normality has been restored to his voice. “Do we still ride – well, walk to Dongnae?”

“Yes,” Lee Chang says decisively. “We must go to Dongnae, and light the signal fires to warn the other cities in the region. We do not know how many of these people are out there, nor what they want. It will be good to prepare everyone for an attack.

“And Mu-yeong?” he says, almost as an afterthought, but as quite an important one. He manages a small smile when the guard turns to face him.

“We will return for your friends’ bodies,” he murmurs softly. “Their bodies will not be left to rot, alone and with only the crows for company. We will return them to Hanyang, for an honourable burial, and for the peace of mind of their family.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Mu-yeong says quietly, and he is about to say something else, when they are interrupted by a loud cacophony of clattering.

“Who are you, and what have you come for?” comes a voice from their right, and when Lee Chang turns, he comes face to face with the barrel of a musket.

It is a rough-looking man, smaller in stature but no less fierce for it. His hair is carelessly tossed into a bun, and sweaty strands of it stick to his tan skin. The bags under his eyes speak of countless sleepless nights, but still the hand that is holding the gun is steady and true. A pile of bamboo poles lies by him, the origin of the clattering sound.

“Put down your weapon!” Mu-yeong cries, and hefts his sword. The man spares him a glance out of the corner of his eyes. “Do you know who you dare lift your weapon against? This is the Crown Prince of the Joseon kingdom!”

The stranger’s brows shoot up, but apart from that, he does not move an inch, and the barrel of the musket is still pointed straight at Lee Chang’s face. Lee Chang feels himself begin to sweat.

“You did not answer the question,” he says quietly. “Why have the Crown Prince and his guard emerged from the banks of the Nakdong River, soaking wet and covered in gore?”

“We were attacked,” Lee Chang finds his voice. “By men who ate human flesh and did not balk at our blades in their back. Three of my other guards were felled by the attackers, and we had to flee into the river, which they dared not enter.”

There is a moment of silence, as the man stares at them, his eyes wide, and Lee Chang thinks he does not believe him. Honestly, were he the opposing party, he does not think he would believe his story either, outlandish as it seems – but every word of it is, unfortunately, the cold, hard truth.

“Then they did survive,” the man says abruptly, and his arm drops back to his side. Mu-yeong’s stance relaxes minutely, his blade still drawn, but the man pays him no mind and turns to the river.

“We must return to the other side,” he says urgently. “You must show me where the monsters descended on you.”

“Monsters?” splutters Mu-yeong. “What the hell – beg pardon, Your Highness – what do you mean by that?”

“Those men were dead,” the stranger says ruthlessly. “They frothed at the mouth and fitted to death, but at night they rise again and crave human flesh. They cannot be killed by normal means – only by fire, deep water, or beheading. And if we do not dispose of their bodies by tonight, they will return to kill once more.” He turns to them again, his eyes ablaze. “You must show me where they found you. They will be hiding from the sun, somewhere nearby, as they fear the daylight. We must burn their bodies as soon as possible.”

“We were on our way to Dongnae – “ starts Mu-yeong mulishly, but then he stops as Lee Chang holds up a hand to stop him. If, indeed, these men will rise again tonight to attack more unsuspecting folk… Lee Chang thinks, again, of the villages they had passed on the way, and the playful cries of children that had arisen from those settlements. He cannot let the innocent people in those villages die, not when he can prevent it.

“We will show you the way. Dongnae can wait.”

“Your Highness – “ Mu-yeong says sharply. “What reason do we have to trust this – this stranger? He could be lying. The story he tells – of the dead rising and killing for human flesh? It is a tale that is nigh on impossible.”

“You saw what we saw last night, Mu-yeong,” Lee Chang says quietly. “I do not believe those men were human. Besides,” he says, with a weak smile, “I did promise you we would return to retrieve your friends’ bodies – although I did not expect that we would do it as soon as we are choosing to now. Dongnae can wait. If we find these bodies and destroy them, it will greatly thin the number of monsters out there.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Mu-yeong accedes. Although it is not without a final glare towards the back of the man, who is standing by the riverside a little ways away, glancing restlessly back at them as they make their decision.

He brings them to a bridge further down the road, where they cross to the other side of the river, and they retrace their steps in silence till they reach the remains of the campsite.

The ashes of the fire Mu-yeong had lit are still smoking, and the bodies – even those of the guards – are nowhere to be found.

“They must have carried their bodies off,” Mu-yeong mutters, in disgust. Lee Chang watches as the man squats down and examines the ground.

“Do you see any tracks?” he calls, as the man picks up a piece of dirt off the ground and sniffs at it. He spares Lee Chang a glance, then stands up and brushes his hands off on his trousers.

“They went northward,” he says shortly. “Into the forest. There must be some abandoned homes or buildings among the trees in which they can hide from the sun.”

Lee Chang nods, and gestures forward. “Lead the way then.”

They walk into the woods. The trees have shed their leaves and are bare and stark against the crisp autumn sunlight. Frost crunches under their feet as they walk, and the air is eerily still, undisturbed by the sounds of any animals. Lee Chang gathers his coat tighter around him, and subconsciously tightens his grip on the handle of his sword.

“There,” the man says, stopping suddenly, and he points at a ruined shack that lies a distance from them. They make their way over to it, and Mu-yeong tentatively opens the door. It creaks as it opens, and releases a cloud of dust that makes all of them cough.

Lee Chang steps in first, squinting into the darkness. He draws his sword, and the blade gleams dully. The floorboards groan under his feet as he walks, craning his neck to see further than one chok in front of his face.

There – there is a glimmer of something in the corner of the room, he thinks, and readies his sword for battle – then there is an almighty crash as the complaining floorboards finally give way, and he sinks downwards with a shout of surprise.

The landing is unexpectedly soft, and there is a sinking feeling in his stomach as he turns his head downwards to gaze at what has broken his fall.

Faces upon faces upon faces, bodies upon bodies upon bodies, curled up in grotesque positions under the boards. Their eyes are shut in a gross parody of sleep, but their chests do not move with breath. They are dead.

Mu-yeong hoists him from the ground, and utters a hoarse cry as he sees what Lee Chang has happened upon. The stranger is unfazed, however, and begins pulling up the floorboards.

“We must get all of them out, and make sure their heads are cut off before we bury them, so they do not rise again,” he orders. Lee Chang has a very brief argument with a voice in his head – one that sounds very much like the King’s voice - about the merits of following the orders of someone of a lesser station than himself, before he sternly tells himself off and squats down to help.

They manage to pull out all twenty-one bodies of their attackers, and Lee Chang is horrified to find out that he had been right – one of them had been a child, no older than ten years of age, with the same mottled pattern on his skin, and mouth painted with gore. He almost throws up again, then, but his stomach is protesting the lack of food, and thankfully he manages to push down the urge.

Mu-yeong finds the bodies of the guards, one headless and two others still intact. He drags the bodies and the head out and lays them sombrely in front of the porch, aside from the other bodies.

“I apologise, my friends,” he says, under his breath, so softly that Lee Chang knows the words are not meant for others to hear. “I would give you now a burial worthy of the most honourable of men, but alas, I cannot do so. I promise, I will retrieve your bodies and bring them back to your honourable families, so they can pay their respects to you as you deserve.”

The man comes up to him and stands by his side, looking at the bodies of the guards. Then, in a stern but kind voice, completely at odds with his manner so far, he says, “We must cut off their heads as well. Any man the monsters bite will turn into one of their kind.”

Mu-yeong looks torn, and splutters. “That is absurd. Whoever heard of such a thing? Your Highness,” he turns to Lee Chang, and while his voice is accusatory, his eyes are soft with anguish. “You do not believe him, do you?”

Lee Chang sighs, and inadvertently locks eyes with the man. His eyes are fierce, and hooded, but Lee Chang thinks they hold no lies – at least, with regards to his matter. He shakes his head in answer to Mu-yeong.

“We saw it for ourselves last night, Mu-yeong,” he says patiently. “One of them returned to life and attacked me, and the only way of ensuring he did not rise again, was by taking off his head. Think of this,” and he manages what he hopes is a comforting smile, “it would be the kindest thing to do, to stop them casting a blemish on their honourable record by killing more innocent people. They would have wanted you to do it.”

In answer, Mu-yeong bows his head, and nods. And later, when they are done beheading the rest of the monsters, he takes the heads off the guards himself.

“We must dig a pit to bury the bodies in,” the man says, coming out of the shack with tools in hand. He passes one shovel to Mu-yeong, then he looks at Lee Chang out of the corner of his eye, a question written clearly in his face. Mu-yeong’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to interject; but Lee Chang silences him with a look, and takes the shovel from the man.

About an hour passes as they dig into the frozen ground to create a large shallow pit – shallow because they can go no deeper with the rudimentary tools they have, and the hardness of the soil. It is backbreaking work, and even in the cold biting air, Lee Chang feels sweat beading on his brow. The numbness in his fingers and the weariness in his bones does not help.

When they are finished, they haul most of the bodies over to the pit and try, as carefully as possible, to arrange them inside. They were once human, after all, and every human, no matter how small in stature or station, deserved an honourable burial.

When it comes to the three guards, however, the stranger squats down by the bodies and rifles through their clothing. In a swift movement, Lee Chang strides over and has his blade at the man’s throat.

The man pauses in his movements, and looks up at Lee Chang. A swallow bobs his throat, but his eyes hold no fear, and the twist of his mouth belies his impatience.

“How dare you attempt to desecrate these men by looting from them,” Lee Chang whispers. “Is it not enough that their bodies have been so profanely defiled? Do you intend to rob them as well?”

“Your Highness,” the man replies, very calmly – too calmly, for all that he had a blade at his throat – “while you have been sitting in your golden palace, eating the food of the gods, we have been starving.” Very slowly, his hand comes up and grips the pommel of the sword, right next to Lee Chang’s hand. His eyes are dark, and full of resolve.

“The sick at Jiyulheon need food, or they will die by morning,” he says quietly. “Our stocks had already been depleted before the monsters appeared, and now, more than ever, we need food. Will you let the sick and injured at Jiyulheon starve to death, for your honour and morality? This is reality, Your Highness – the reality of us peasants’ lives. This is not the first time I have stolen from a dead body to live, and it will not be the last.”

Mu-yeong is oddly silent, Lee Chang thinks, dazedly. He is able to hold the man’s gaze for a moment – just a moment more - then he can bear it no longer, and has to avert his eyes.

The man coolly levers the sword away from his throat, and returns to searching quickly through the guards’ clothes. He finds a few packets of dried meat and other trail foods, and these he packs them away in his bag.

When he is done, he makes to drag the bodies into the pit, and a small blue square of fabric falls from one of the guards’ pockets. As Mu-yeong and the stranger lug the bodies away, Lee Chang bends over and retrieves the item.

The guard’s daughter has written on it, in shaky writing; Papa, it reads, pleas keep your self safe and pleas bring back some mandu for mommy. We love you! There is a doodle of a girl sitting on what appears to be some vaguely-four-legged animal, brandishing a sword, with her father seated behind her. Lee Chang finds he suddenly has to steady himself against the walls of the shack, as a lump finds its way to his throat.

“Your Highness,” Mu-yeong calls, and Lee Chang looks up with a start to realise that the other two have already hurried some way up the slight incline that had led to the shed, and are now looking back at him – Mu-yeong with puzzlement, the stranger with badly-concealed impatience.

“The sun is setting,” says the man. “I must return to Jiyulheon – they will need help with defence against whatever monsters are left from this pack.”

“We will come with you,” calls Lee Chang, on some impulse, as the man turns to leave. Lee Chang’s words makes him spin round, his faint brows riding high in surprise.

“Why?” he says, and the twist of his mouth reads of his suspicion. “I thought you were on your way to Dongnae?”

“Staying in Jiyulheon cannot be your permanent solution against an attack,” Lee Chang argues, walking quickly up to them; and from the way the man’s eyes darken, Lee Chang knows he has hit his mark. He steps closer to the man, and they lock gazes.

“We can help with your defence through the night, and when morning comes, we will find a way to bring the people of Jiyulheon to safety. I swear this upon my crown,” he says, solemnly, for the look in those burning eyes holds him to nothing but the truth.

“Can a prince run as fast as is needed?” says the man at last, tossing his head scornfully. A sudden flock of crows ascends above their heads, bringing with them a cacophony of cawing, and their shadow runs long. The sun is setting, and night is drawing near.

Lee Chang feels his resolve set. He tucks the talisman into his pocket, and gives the man a firm nod.

#changshin #kingdom #kingdom netflix #lee chang #yeong shin #upm works #upm #kingdom fanfiction #changshin fanfiction #cho hak ju

[doakaptan]

finally, ive lost the plot  (and became the main character so here is an episode from the 19th season)

Before you start getting into this week’s blog, I must warn you that this is mostly me recounting our never-ending slow-burning two days of spring break alongside my longing for Stardew valley while I prepare for the Tableau Vivant project. 

So when I was informed about the spring break, I thought I’d be able to at least sleep in for once and play a few games I tossed aside to focus on the second semester. (Mind you, It has been exactly 120 days since I played Stardew Valley for the last time and, my mental health has been gradually deteriorating ever since). Even though I’ve been studying here for a while, I looked over the fact that Bilkent never sleeps and successfully suppressed the upcoming projects in my mind. 

I surpassed it to the point where I mindlessly traveled to my hometown and set up my monitor without a care to the outside world. I would probably not have cared if the house was burning down as long as I got to play Stardew Valley. I was peacefully tending my crops that were made out of 3 pixels at most when it dawned on me that I had yet to choose a painting for the tableau vivant project. I already had a few paintings in mind so it was not that much of a hassle to choose out of the ones I picked.

WelI, I was so sure that Rene Magritte’s Portrait of Stephy Langui wouldn’t get picked that I didn’t mentally prepare myself to create such set.

First of all, I am aware that we kinda had  21 days to prepare and shoot the footage but, hello this is Bilkent and I like making everything hard for myself so I had 2 midterms to attend, a few interviews aligned and a lot of hearts to steal. So yeah I did not work for 21 days straight (it would probably be better for my mental health if I did but I digress).

So yeah here I am in the middle of a breakdown because I realized that I have only a week left to prepare for a piece like this and I did not find a way to achieve the perspective or make the people or find a model. At that point I did not have anything but my phone and oh- ITS CAMERA IS BROKEN. I did what a mentally okay and ready person would do and cried for a whole day until it backfired and determination bloomed in the pits of my stomach. I was also playing Stardew Valley during my mental breakdown so I knew exactly how long I cried until I passed out.

Here’s my wedding in the game. I was in the middle of the introduction when I passed out so I kinda missed the entirety of it but at least I have a picture of my last sane moment. 

While I was unconscious I had this weird dream about the game’s carpenter (which is funnily enough the mother of the npc I married). She told me that I was good at making wooden furniture and if I were to focus on it for the project I would have a solid starting point. My father told me the same thing a few days prior but, he is not a hardworking carpenter nor my game husband’s mother so I had no reason to listen to him. 

(Also a little background information about me for contextual reasons: I am good at wood work because at one point, out of sheer frustration at the interior design and architecture department here (eskişehir) I started making couches and mini-sets out of wood.)

I woke up the next day knowing what I was going to do. 

I had exactly 6 days to make up for all the procrastinating I’ve done so the first thing I did in when I woke up was to go out and look for a rock. It had been non-stop raining for 2 days and when I went outside the rain became even worse than it was before. So I did the obvious thing and dove into the muddy field of a random construction. The rock is great though I’m glad I was Shrek enough to find it.

Also here is a picture of the dogs that watched me find my inner Shrek:

The rock was the hardest part to get it right in my opinion so I the rest came naturally. I messaged a friend who I thought would be perfect to hang from a ladder for a few times for 1.30 minutes. She happily agreed and even went as far as to study the make up and hair of the women.

So, I only had the set and the two figures left to create. I went to my father’s workplace and used their materials for the greater good. Like I mentioned I’m good with woodwork so once I got the size of my model’s head I was unstoppable. I finished the set-piece under 2 hours and went home to make the figures.

Everything came out nicely with 4 days remaining and I thought I was really done with everything.

 but the thing is.... I forgot the weather...... 

and the non-stop rain was not going to stop because I had a project I guess..

Anyways, I was mentally too deranged to care and ‘borrowed’ an Apple monitor from a university I cannot name in case of them finding me (I will return it when I’m done being sad over being poor thank you).

Here is the test shot:

It looked fine to me so I looked over the fact that my camera was broken and got to work with 2 days remaining and all the lectures fully back in action....

This project was more stressful then I imagined but I loved working on it regardless. I wonder if I would feel more at ease if I had an actual camera and not a malfunctioning broken phone camera but I digress. If I can kind of hopefully make it work on a broken camera I think I can keep up the will to work. 

The search for the paintings were a lot of fun too. I’m really interested in surrealism and overly weird settings so I was happy this was picked for the project. Hopefully I learned my lesson and in the future remember it well enough to not make a model loosely hang onto a ladder for dear life  and risk a lawsuit...

For future reference... crying and… stardew valley.......helps...... a lot…. 8/10….would recommend..... also.....would recommend........ crying enough to pass out and have a enlightening conversation with a 3 pixel carpenter.

#i went wayyy over the wordcount #are we surprised tho #anyways #im the main character #so here is an episode from my show #tableau vivant