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starsinmylatte · 3 years

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Nightcall

Pairing: Thrawn x afab reader

Rating: Explicit (Very 18+)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: established relationship, edging, praise k!nk, very slight dom/sub undertones, interspecies relationship

Summary: Reader has had a VERY long day, and Thrawn is away from the Chimaera. Or is he?

Author's note: Hi! I'm finally starting to post fics to Tumblr again. I've been away for a bit, but I am very excited to write more. All my stuff is also on AO3 here! Any comments or reblogs are always greatly appreciated (seriously y'all leave the sweetest comments and it makes my day). Have fun reading my first ever attempt at smut and lmk if you'd like to be added to my tags <3

Today had been hell.

Thrawn had departed the Chimaera days ago to handle some business on Coruscant, and, as usual, Konstantine was using his absence as an excuse to be a massive pain in the ass. The Grand Admiral relied on you to help keep order just as much as he relied on Eli Vanto, but he was currently as busy as you were. So, the ever-glamorous job of making sure the Seventh Fleet remained in orbit mainly fell to you.

It was the fifth day Thrawn had been gone, and you were already fantasizing about throwing Konstantine out of the airlock. It would undoubtedly save the remnants of your sanity. He usually wasn’t blatantly insubordinate, but today he seemed to make an exception.

“I simply don’t understand why the Grand Admiral is insisting on holding this formation,” he exclaimed. “We should be chasing the rebels back to their base by now!”

Another headache was definitely coming on. I swear on every star in this kriffing galaxy…..

Your reply was icy and tinged with frustration, “Konstantine, if you wish to question the Grand Admiral’s tactics, you are more than welcome to discuss it with him when he comes back. Until then, we will be following the orders he left us with.”

He momentarily met your piercing stare before realizing any further arguments would be futile.

“Fine. I do believe I’m needed elsewhere,” Konstantine huffed as he departed the bridge.

For the first time in hours, the bridge was blessedly silent. You sank into a chair, rubbing your temples. Kriff, I definitely feel that headache now….

A sudden hand on your shoulder made you jump. You were so distracted that Eli might as well have materialized out of thin air.

“Hard day?” The corners of his mouth twitched as he attempted to stifle his amusement. “I heard you gave Konstantine a well-deserved earful.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Next time, it’s your turn. This is my fourth headache in the past five days.”

“Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? You’ve been working harder than anyone else on the Chimaera for days.” He lowered his voice before adding, “He should be back soon.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the news. You and Thrawn had gone to great lengths to keep your relationship secret from the crew, but Eli was too good of a friend to be kept in the dark. Besides, he would’ve noticed eventually that his two best friends were slightly more than friends.

Eli must’ve noticed the change in your expression, “Oh, you definitely need a break.”

He shoved a datapad in your hands and started pulling you to your feet, ignoring the numerous protests you gave him. “Here, take this to Thrawn’s office, leave it on his desk, and then you’re taking the rest of the day off. No arguments.”

-----------------------------

Thrawn’s office was its usual freezing temperature. Even though your uniform had layers of thick material, the chill was easily seeping through them. Shivering, you placed the datapad on the large desk in the back of the room.

You turned to leave, but a pang shot through your heart as you looked around the empty room. It was normal for you to barely see Thrawn on the days he was especially busy, but it was always different when you knew he wasn’t on the Chimaera at all. Stars, you missed him when he was gone. Just knowing he was nearby on days you couldn’t see him was so comforting. “Soon” wasn’t a good enough time frame for when he’d return.

A sudden thought crossed your mind; nothing was stopping you from spending the night in Thrawn’s quarters. It wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence for you to sleep here, and it would be comforting. Besides, with your headache, you didn’t exactly feel like walking all the way back across the ship to your room, and his private quarters were conveniently connected to his office.

You began stripping off your uniform as you walked into the room and made your way over to the bed. It was still freezing, but every layer you removed took the worries of the day with it. Soon, everything except your bra and panties sat neatly folded on the bedside table. In this moment, you weren’t an Imperial officer; you were a woman climbing into her lover’s bed for comfort after a long day.

As soon as you slid between the soft, black sheets, you instantly received the comfort you were craving. They smelled exactly like Thrawn, crisp and clean, but with a unique depth cut by the citrusy scent of his favorite tea. You could almost imagine that he was actually there beside you. A contented smile crossed your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

---------------------------------

You suddenly woke to a light caress on your cheek. In your groggy state, you didn’t fully realize what that touch meant until you leaned into it. You would have probably fallen back asleep were it not for the low, pleased murmur that followed your actions.

“Apologies, ch’eo bat in’a, I did not mean to wake you, but I was not expecting to find you here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock as you sat up and gasped, “Thrawn!”

The low light in the room illuminated the regal form sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. Thrawn’s usually unreadable expression was one of slight amusement mixed with another, softer expression. You couldn’t help but notice his beautiful azure-hued skin and luminous ruby eyes were only complemented by the dimmed light; you couldn’t help but think he was meant to be seen like this. He must’ve been tired from the constant travel, but nothing in his posture or expression gave it away.

You didn’t wait for him to speak again before reaching over to embrace him. Thrawn immediately wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you in tightly. Pressing your face into his chest, you quietly murmured, “I missed you.”

He said nothing, so you assumed he didn’t hear. You both sat contentedly for a few minutes and savored the intimacy before he moved one hand to stroke lazily down your back and the other to run through your hair. As you leaned further into his touch, he grabbed your chin and turned your head so he could press his lips to your ear.

“You are quite endearing when you’re half-asleep. It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

The praise combined with the sensation of his warm breath in your ear finally did you in; a flame began to spark to life in your core. You had missed him, and every single part of you was screaming for you to let him know just how much.

Before you could even move, Thrawn trailed his lips down to kiss your neck, and the flame in your core blossomed. You let out a quiet, breathy moan, and he immediately stopped.

Bringing his lips back to trace the shell of your ear, he rasped, “Oh? It seems you did miss me. How fortunate that I was able to return to you already in my bed.” He paused to lightly trace the outline of your bra before continuing. “And in something so pretty too. A shame that it will soon be discarded.”

You whimpered at his words as his lips renewed their brutal assault on your neck and upper chest. For what seemed like an eternity, Thrawn was content to lavish affection on the spots that provoked the greatest responses from you as his hands held you in place.

“Thrawn, please…. Touch me….” you begged, hoping desperately for him to comply.

He merely let out a dark chuckle as he chided, “Patience, ch’eo ch’itiseb, for every protest that leaves your pretty mouth, I will be sure to make you wait even longer.”

You bit back a moan at his sinful words; his eyes seemed to glow even brighter, and his smile turned feral. The look he gave you in return was simply predatory.

He continued to suck hickies into the sensitive skin at the base of your neck and around your collarbones. His tongue licked a long, torturous line up the column of your neck to kiss the area under your jaw. With every kiss, caress, and touch, the flame in your core spread throughout your entire body. He bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and you melted even further into his arms.

“It seems you were able to learn an adequate lesson in patience, so now we may continue. Turn around for me,” he ordered.

You turned to face the wall as he returned to his previous position at the edge of the bed. He trailed his hands up your waist and around to cup your breasts. Thrawn may have decided that you could have more of his touch, but he still refused to dip his hand under the lacy fabric of your bra. Instead, he teasingly rubbed over the material to brush against your nipples. Your head fell back to rest on his shoulder as you pushed your chest out into his hands, still desperate for more.

“How very, very eager for my touch….” His tone was still infuriatingly collected for how quickly he’d reduced you into a moaning mess, but a slight accent began to mar his words. “Ch’itses’o euhn ei.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Thrawn unfastened and discarded your bra. Finally, he wrapped his hands entirely around your breasts. The sharp contrast between the warmth of his body and the room’s icy air only intensified the pleasure as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers.

You couldn’t help but moan his name again, loudly. Thrawn’s breath hitched before he let out a low, breathy moan, “Bun vn’inen’i. Let me hear you.”

His voice had always been profoundly attractive, but hearing him murmur filthy sentiments into your ear in his native tongue made you absolutely melt. You let out another gasp and rubbed your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find, keenly aware of the desire beginning to pool between them. In your desperate search for friction, you accidentally rubbed your ass back against him and felt his growing erection.

The contact made Thrawn hiss. In one fluid motion, he flipped you around, pushed your back flat against the mattress, and leaned over you.

It was moments like this when you remembered you were in the bed of one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. Thrawn’s ruby eyes glowed with lust as he gazed down at you. His feral smile returned as he studied his prize. “Allow me to show you just how much I missed you.”

He trailed kisses from your breasts down to your inner thighs, nipping at them slightly, then stopping to look up at you as he reached your panties. “These must go,” he murmured against your thigh. Thrawn took the band in his teeth and began to tug the panties off, using his hands to remove them fully.

Finally, you laid before him completely bare, and once again, he paused to appreciate your body. “Simply beautiful,” he cooed.

Thrawn returned to kiss your inner thighs before he spread your legs further. He moved to kneel on the floor at the side of the bed and pulled your hips to the edge. You knew exactly what was coming next. “Oh….”

You barely had time to moan before he swiped an experimental finger through your core. Under any other circumstances, you’d be embarrassed that you were already so wet, but Thrawn lit a fire in you that no one else could. Now it was his turn to let out a low groan at his discovery.

He didn’t waste any more time before moving one of his long fingers to lightly trace around your entrance. The torment of his delicate touch made you rock your hips upwards, desperately begging for more contact. Without warning, he pushed two fingers deep inside you, making your walls clench hard around them. You moaned and begged for more as he began to pump them in and out of your drenched core, causing your legs to shudder in pleasure.

“Look at you, I’ve only just started using my fingers, and you’re already shaking,” Thrawn groaned.

He brought you right up to the peak of pleasure before suddenly withdrawing. You sobbed in protest as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. “Clean them off,” he commanded. Hoping that he’d finish you off if you complied, you obediently took his fingers into your mouth and sucked all your juices off of them.

Thrawn was very pleased. He moved back down between your thighs and sucked another hickey on the delicate skin before returning his attention to your core. He slowly circled your sensitive clit with a finger before licking his way up to suck on it. Once again, he continued his attention until you were at the very edge before withdrawing. Being edged once was hard, but the second time left you an absolute mess.

When Thrawn looked down on you, covered in his marks, eyes glazed over in lust and absolutely begging for completion, he lost the remnants of his control. He leaned back up to murmur, “Ch’eo ch’itiseb, how would you like me?”

“Stars, Thrawn, I don’t care. I just want you inside me now,” you moaned back at him as you reached up to help tug off his remaining clothing. After a few moments, he was also completely bare and leaning over you on the bed again.

With how desperate you felt, any time at all was too long, but your pleas and cries finally turned into more gasps and moans of pleasure as he finally lined his thick cock up with your entrance. The feeling of being so gloriously stretched and filled as he pushed in made your walls clench around him. Thrawn moaned at the sensation and began fucking you at a leisurely pace.

He leaned in to capture your lips in a burning, passionate kiss as his thrusts grew faster and your hips rose to meet them. His hands roamed your body, finding their way to pinch and tug at your nipples. You moaned into his mouth as you grew closer and closer to the high you’d been chasing all night.

Pausing between kisses, Thrawn suddenly grabbed your chin and stared into your eyes with his burning red ones before returning to kiss you hungrily. The unspoken message was clear: you were his. This new intensity, combined with his thrusts that came faster and faster, finally sent you over the edge into a shattering climax. Thrawn’s thrusts grew more and more erratic until he finished soon after you, coating your walls with his seed as he came.

As you both lay there in the afterglow, Thrawn mused, “I may have to find an excuse to be gone more often.”

Tags: @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @mittheresabosen @handbaskethell

#also on ao3 #Thrawn x f!reader #Grand Admiral Thrawn x reader #Thrawn x you #Star wars fanfic #rebels fanfic #thrawn x reader

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 303: And What, Pray Tell, Is a “One For All”

Previously on BnHA: The Todorokis (really just Enji) looked at their children and went “how can we screw up all four of them in uniquely different ways” and proceeded to do just that. Touya was all “just because practicing how to set myself on fire better hasn’t worked to win my dad’s affections YET doesn’t mean it will NEVER work”, because child logic. Turns out setting oneself on fire real hard isn’t so effective at winning affections, but is actually incredibly effective when it comes to burning oneself to death, so there’s that. Back in the present day, the Todorokis basked in their various misplaced (again, except for Enji) feelings of guilt, and were all “anyway but get over yourself already Enji, you still have to do something to stop this kid”, and Shouto was all “I’ll help too”, and Enji was all “(╥_╥)”, and Hawks and Jeanist were all “[surreptitiously listening in from outside the door]”, and that’s basically where we left off.

Today on BnHA: Hawks and Jeanist are all “mind if we join you on this family journey?” and proceed to stroll in uninvited with their puns and their perceptive insights. Hawks is all “so to sum everything up, we’re fucked, but at least you have us here to help you out! by the way, no clue why I’m the first person to ask this in three hundred chapters, but wtf is One For All.” We then cut to Deku, who’s still all “[(－－)]z”, and All Might, who is all “I’m just going to ignore the extremely loud racket going on right outside this room.” Which, btw, is happening on account of Bakugou, who is all “(╬◣Д◢)” as Satou, Tsuyu, and Mineta cart him away. Anyway so that’s a lot of antics, and also it looks like Hawks has gotten tired of the Todorokis refusing to put the pieces together on their own about OFA and so he is fast-tracking that shit. And meanwhile Deku is chatting it up with the Vestiges exactly like we all thought. And now we have to wait another whole week for updates on all of this. This really is not fair.

omfg lol

“our bad, we were kind of accidentally listening in on purpose.” like I said last week guys, no fuss. it’s a tradition

OMG

I am absolutely fucking floored. Hawks literally said that so casually that it’s impossible for me to rewrite it so as to be even more casual. that’s literally what I would write in the “today on bnha” section. in fact I probably will write that

(ETA: just for laughs I tried it and it really worked.)

a couple more things to point out about this panel:

“TOP 3” omg yes. more like “top only” at this point, honestly. interested to see how that goes

Hawks’s phone is freaking the fuck out about something, calm down there

I know this is a standard Jeanist hair-fixing gesture that he does all the time, but I can’t help but form hypotheses about this being a stress reaction because Hawks’s hair is making him internally freak out. Hawks, if this man tries to get you alone with him and some hairspray and a comb, please for the love of god do not listen to him. get out of there and call the authorities

omg Shouto’s face

okay confession, I wasn’t really sold on the whole “Shouto has a schoolboy crush on Hawks” thing until exactly now, when I became 100% sold on it. that is adorable

and heck with it, gotta show Enji and Rei’s reactions here as well because lol

“omg my son who’s not my son, and he just overheard everything about me being a terrible shitty father and person overall, oh and plus my actual-son set him on fire and called him out on a national broadcast. I’m just gonna stare at him baffledly.” versus Rei, who is all “hmm, who are these people”

so Hawks is all “I got released from the hospital after one day for some reason so I made Jeanist drive me around places while we talked about life” but uh, heyyyyy, what’s Rei doing

okay, uh

SO FUCKING FORMAL OMFG. “SORRY MY KID TRIED TO BURN YOU TO DEATH, APPARENTLY HE DOES THAT” REI NO IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT

HAWKS IS ALL “I’M JUST GONNA LAUGH SINCE THAT’S MY DEFAULT RESPONSE TO BEING PROFOUNDLY UNCOMFORTABLE”

let me tell you a secret Hawks, it’s my default response too. ahahahahahahaha oh thank god Jeanist is helping her up -- AND MAKING A JEANS PUN, OF COURSE. IT’S BEEN ALMOST THIRTY SECONDS. MY MAN WAS DYING

“WTF IS ILLEGAL DENIM” he’s talking ‘bout them counterfeit jeans, Rei. Antoine Bugleboy knows

THANK YOU JEANIST!! OUT HERE ASKING THE RELEVANT QUESTIONS

damn straight. we’re not gonna sit around waiting another 300 chapters for this information on this man’s watch

now Hawks is telling Endeavor he used to watch videos of him all the time, and calling him his “childhood obsession” I can’t

OH MY SWEET STARS AND MOONS

1000% CANON. “SO CLOSE...” ARE YOU SERIOUS. YOU REALLY PUT THAT THOUGHT BUBBLE THERE AND EVERYTHING. “GOOD MORNING EVERYONE, SO JUST IN CASE YOU WEREN’T ALREADY AWARE, TODOROKI SHOUTO IS NOT ACTUALLY STRAIGHT.” HORIKOSHI KOUHEI I AM LITERALLY DUMBFOUNDED. THIS IS AMAZING

and meanwhile that look on Hawks’s face while he casually-but-not-really-casually-at-all asks this question. that phone app better be using his actual voice. I’m not sure I could take this scene in the anime at this point if it was like Alexa talking or something

that look in his eyes is basically saying that so far, based on the information he has absorbed up until this point, Hawks is prepared to view his former childhood obsession as a flawed but changed man. however I get the distinct feeling that depending on Endeavor’s answer now, he would be willing to drastically shift some of his opinions on him

(ETA: this is maybe my favorite panel in the entire chapter. the fact that his question isn’t addressed to anyone in particular, but his eyes are zeroing on on Endeavor. and the way his leaning-on-Shouto pose manages to be simultaneously nonchalant and yet ever-so-slightly protective. there’s so much going on in this one question and gesture and I’m mildly obsessed with it.)

however, Rei is all “that was me” and ONCE AGAIN WITH THE FACES IN THIS CHAPTER holy shit

Hawks definitely did not see that one coming sob. it’s so fun watching him frantically recalculate his ideas about this family every two seconds

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI I UNDERSTOOD THE PARALLELS ALREADY, YOU REALLY DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THIS

yes, Hawks, you get it. it’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough. though unlike your shitty parents, Rei and Enji are at least trying

OKAY I SERIOUSLY CANNOT WITH ALL OF THIS

fljkdlaskfjlwkjl okay we’re doing the bullet-points breakdown here

first of all, the fact that poor little Shouto’s heart is still thumping away at this proximity and all he can think is “CLOSE” all intelligently as he stares at him with that face omg

and meanwhile Horikoshi has these STRATEGIC BANDAGES WRAPPED AROUND HIS CHEEKS TO HIDE ALL OF HIS SHOUJO BLUSHING omfg. SENPAI NOTICED YOU SWEETIE!!!

HAWKS YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY ZERO OBLIGATION TO WASTE ANOTHER SECOND OF YOUR LIFE WORRYING ABOUT THESE TWO ASSHOLES WHO NEVER SPARED YOU THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF REGARD OR CONCERN IN THEIR ENTIRE LIVES. THE NICEST THING YOUR MOM EVER DID FOR YOU WAS BUY YOU A $2 ENDEAVOR PLUSH FROM THE DISCOUNT BIN TO KEEP YOU QUIET, AND YOU WERE SO AWED BY THAT ONE ACT OF SORTA KINDA APPROXIMATE KINDNESS THAT YOU SHAPED YOUR ENTIRE WORLDVIEW AROUND IT. PLEASE LET ME PICK YOU UP IN A BIG HUG FOR JUST A SEC, YOU DESERVE THE WORLD AND YOU WERE ONE THOUSAND PERCENT JUSTIFIED IN LEAVING THEM IN THE DUST THE SECOND THAT YOU COULD

but all that said, he immediately recognizes that Shouto would also have had cause to do the same in his situation, and yet hasn’t. and so he has that much more admiration for him all of a sudden, which is just super sweet, and fully appropriate. Shouto does deserve props. I’m choosing to take this as an “it takes a lot of strength to be able to forgive, and people who choose to do that even though they’re not obligated to are really amazing" type of thing, as opposed to “people who don’t forgive other people who severely wronged them are bad.” and if I’m wrong and Hawks’s line here is meant to be seen as actual failing on his part, well then fuck that, but we’ll move on

SO NOW, DOWN TO BUSINESS!

I am so, so curious as to what kind of strategy Hawks has for this (if he even has any), so I’ll just be quiet now and read

so Hawks is summing up basically what we already knew -- that Tomura and his inner circle (curious that there’s no mention of AFO, because if Hawks doesn’t know about him, that implies almost no one does) are still on the lam with a few PLF stragglers and some High Ends; that a bunch of prisons have been “liberated” (I assume this means all of the inmates escaped, so if that’s the case then where’s Kurogiri??); that the HPSC is fucked; and that heroes are resigning all over the place, and so civilians are taking matters into their own hands

OH DAMN!?

does this mean we’ll actually see some international heroes?? I will LOSE MY DAMN SHIT omg

(ETA: apparently people who paid more attention to the first BnHA movie than I did recognized the silhouettes as belonging to some background characters from Two Heroes. so maybe they were just cameos and they’re not actually new characters who are soon to join us lol. oh well.)

anyway so Hawks agrees with the other Todorokis that Endeavor has no choice but to fight

awww

DON’T WORRY ENJI THEY’VE GOT YOUR BACK. WITH YOUR FLAMES, AND JEANIST’S PUNS, AND HAWKS’S BOYISHLY GOOD LOOKS, THE THREE OF YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MINDS TO

so Enji is very pertinently asking why they’re standing by him in spite of the... [gestures vaguely to everything]

oh my lordy lord

Shouto you had better do something to combat this soon, or this man will sneak past you on my favorite character ranking after all. his face. his cheeky lil finger gun. the fact that he sums it up so fucking simply. “if someone is trying to do the right thing, I want to support them.” exactly. exactly

(ETA: and one last thing I love but forgot to mention, which is the fact that Hawks calls it a team-up despite the fact that he is clearly in charge.)

meanwhile Jeanist is all “as for me, at this point I just straight up don’t give a fuck”

I can’t handle how fucking cool this chapter is you guys

so Hawks is all “you good?” at Enji. and Enji...

if anyone needs me, I will be building myself a discourse-proof fort made entirely out of problematic characters. I don’t even care. I will go on living my life very happily in here

lol at Natsu being all “BUT DON’T THINK THIS MAKES US FRIENDS”

I’m living for this weird and no-doubt entirely unintended implication that Natsu and them all are gonna join in the fight with the rest of them. I mean, they do presumably all have very powerful ice quirks. and Natsu has medical training on top of that, and Fuyu is skilled at getting eight-year-olds to behave which could be a useful talent for dealing with Tomura hahaha I kid, but I’M JUST SAYING. who needs hero licenses anyway

OH SHIT FINALLY SOME DISCUSSION OF AN ACTUAL STRATEGY. even if it’s just a PR strategy

WHAKLHL

and now for some reason we’re flashing back to Natsu and Fuyu’s attempts to navigate through the media crowd outside the hospital

well I guess this is why I’m not the mangaka. if I were writing this I would have done something trite and predictable like using that “One for All” line as an excuse to cut to Deku!! as opposed to this entirely unrelated scene!!

seriously though why do we need to see this lol

no one in this crowd has ever heard of Alexander Dumas huh. or even the popular 2007 Disney Channel original movie, High School Musical 2

so now there’s an entire page of Hawks saying they need to know what One for All is, and Endeavor having one of those patented Todoroki WHOOSH realizations lmao look at this

just wait until this man figures out that one of the scrappy new interns he took on three months ago was actually the main character all along

SKDFIOHWIERLKSJGLWLK!!

NOW IS PROBABLY A GOOD TIME TO ASK MYSELF WHY I CHOSE THIS CHARACTER WHO KEEPS DISAPPEARING FOR SIX OR TWELVE OR FORTY CHAPTERS AT A TIME TO BE MY FUCKING FAVORITE. WELCOME BACK SON PLEASE DON’T SCREAM YOURSELF TO DEATH YOU STILL HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(ETA: can we just take a moment to appreciate how Bakugou even got so close to Deku’s room in the first place though. in this giant hospital with no idea of where to even go. does he have Deku Radar or something.)

YOU SIX ARE OFFICIALLY ON MY HIT LIST!! SPARE ME YOUR GOOD INTENTIONS!! MY BAKUDEKU REUNION KEEPS GETTING POSTPONED WEEK AFTER WEEK!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HEROES WHERE IS YOUR CONCEPT OF MERCY

(ETA: btw just to be clear, I’m not actually angry lol; it makes total sense that they don’t want this rampaging feral toddler who was still in his own coma all of fifteen minutes ago to come and start screaming at the other coma child until he tears all his stitches out. if there’s anything we Bakugou fans should be familiar with by now, it’s being patient.)

also, Tsuyu wrapping her tongue around Bakugou’s still-healing torso wound absolutely can’t be hygienic at all. also wait is that Inko??

(ETA: pretty sure it is her. she got all of one line smdh.)

Iida is all “thank god Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight pulled through, I thought for sure he was a goner back there”

for the record this is actually really sweet to see how relieved he is. he’s one of the few people who saw the original injury close up, back when he was still at the battlefield and unconscious, so I imagine it really did freak him out quite a bit

JIROUUUUUU

“sometimes I just like to stand here and tug on my imaginary suspenders, what of it”

how come you guys get to loiter around Deku’s room but Kacchan doesn’t. god fucking dammit. AND WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN

I BET KACCHAN COULD WAKE HIM UP FROM HIS COMA WITH THE POWER OF RIVAL INTENSITY!! BUT NOOOOOOOO, [is dragged away back to my fort]

OH MY GOD!?!

"this seems to be an entirely normal and above-board situation that we have just stumbled onto”

I see Jeanist comes from the Iida Tenya school of respectfully using people’s full names

Jeanist becoming one of the main characters is the best thing to ever happen to this series

EXCUSE YOU, IIDA

BUT I’M SURE HE’D MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR KACCHAN THOUGH!! [elbowing my way back out of the fort] HAWKS, PLEASE --

DON’T GO ALL OMINIOUSLY PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER ALL ON YOUR OWN GODDAMMIT

“there’s absolutely no way this angry wriggling shoulder burrito kid here could answer literally all of my questions, so I’ll just ignore him”

OH MY GOD WE’RE FINALLY CUTTING BACK TO HIM BUT THE CHAPTER IS ENDING

[jumps up, throws a folding chair at Iida and the rest of the gang, and then runs]

oh my god. actually this chapter was awesome. but I’m so fucking mad at this cliffhanger though lol

at least we got a couple of answers! and some hints and teases! poor Deku looks so worn out even though he’s asleep dlwkjl my little green baby. and is it just me or is his quirk activated?? All Might’s all “I can feel it” as if it isn’t obvious just looking at him, why are you trying to be all mysterious dude

anyway! so at least we finally have confirmation and a date for those vestige antics at long last. looking forward to meeting Mister The Fourth next week so we can finally ask him “hey dude, what the fuck”

#bnha 303 #takami keigo #hawks #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #endeavor #best jeanist #todofam #bakugou katsuki #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

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The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 3.4k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week.

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent. He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you. Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

#Javier Peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #javi x you #javi x reader #javier pena x reader #narcos netflix #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña imagine #pedro fandom #the rules of engagement #better love #angst #slow burn #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #smut

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

Hues of Pink

Bill Weasley x Reader

Summary: On rainy day at home, Bill paints your nails.

Requested by @am-i-space : “Hey I recently had this thought and I would love to actually read this I think it would be adorable: Bill sitting behind you and and painting your nails, and like little neck kisses and stupid giggles from both of you and him resting his head on yours when he´s concentrating.”

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of scars, fluff, kissing

A/N: Thank you for such a sweet and fluffy request, I hope you enjoy it!!

(gif found on pinterest, credits to the maker)

The rain was steady outside, no intentions of passing any time soon as it pelted relentlessly against the chilled windowpanes. Fortunately, there were no pressing plans waiting for either of you, and the inclement weather had only further decided that it would be a lax day around your home. You weren’t complaining though, work had been rather taxing on the both of you as of late and this gave way to some much needed time to spend together. You would never complain about that, because days like this seemed to be few and far between.

“What are you doing, love?” Bill asks, appearing in the doorway with a yawn. He leant against the doorframe as he watched you curiously over his mug and you smile brightly from your spot at the coffee table.

“Painting my nails,” you state simply, setting down your nail file amongst the assortment of other tools.

You hadn’t had spare minute to do such a hobby in a while and with your newfound down time, you thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to treat yourself. That, and it had always been a way to alleviate your stress when your mind was feeling rather busy. Though you will admit it does not work wonders in the department of aroma therapy. That much is very certain.

He hums and nods, stepping into the room fully to be with you. He was still dressed in his pajamas much like you were, and his hair had yet to meet a comb that day as it dusted over his shoulders in tangled red locks. You always playfully suggested a trim if he’d insisted on letting his hairbrush collect dust on your nightstand, but your attempts were always declined with an immediate frown. Not to mention the ginger strands you always found in your brush.

Moments later he had joined you on the living room floor, basking in the warmth of his drink that was steaming just under his nose freckled nose.

“Good morning,” you murmur, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He turned his head in that moment to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, tasting of his usual lemon tea and an abundant amount of sugar. “Or should I say good afternoon?”

He scrunches his nose in a quiet protest, pulling away from you with a fond shake of his head and a soft smile. “Must you always tease me?”

You pretend to ponder the question briefly, tapping your finger on your cheek as he raises a brow at you. “I believe the answer is undoubtedly a yes, my love.”

He scoffs into his mug.

“Well, I believe I should stop calling you sunshine in favor of something more accurate then, like trouble.”

“Actually, Bill, I quite like that one,” You say with a laugh, more so when he narrows his tired eyes at you with a disapproving frown. Though no matter how much you may have teased him in good fun, you’d always be the embodiment of sunshine, lighting up his life in every way imaginable.

You tenderly ran your thumb over the pink scars that run across his cheek, his frown fading and the crease between his brows smoothing once more at your touch. “I’m only kidding,” you assure, but he knows that smile anywhere. “But you know I can’t resist!”

He huffs and hides his smile behind his mug as he takes a sip, setting the tattered old ceramic down on a mismatched coaster before focusing his attention back on you. It was something he always found himself to be doing, to him it was rather hard not to. And the way your tongue had poked out just past very kissable lips was only further proving his point; anything thing you did, no matter how simple or grand, always proved his point. He feels maybe he shouldn’t have joined in with his brothers in teasing Ron for the way he’s always gazing at Hermione, because he’s quite sure he has his little brother beat at this point.

He supposes one never truly understands the full scope of love and it’s effects until one is lucky enough have it. Well, he always knew love when it came to his family, he’s never experienced a moment in his life where he found himself without it. But this, this was far different from that. You came into his life and turned it upside down for the better, quite literally too when you had knocked his textbooks to floor outside of potions in your clumsy haze all those years ago. He’s sure he’s never seen someone be quite so flustered over him in all his life. Charlie was quick to take note and embarrass him in front of you once he knew his brother had caught feelings, and he quickly became flustered over you. Regardless, he was and still is profoundly in love with you, that’ll never change.

You loved him for who he is, not what he may or may not have. The scars stretching across his fair skin were of no importance either, for he’d always been beautiful to you. He was Bill Weasley, wonderfully awkward and exceptionally intelligent with a heart of gold. That’s what you loved.

His fingers tapped against his cheek as his chin rests in his palm, watching as you paint on the blush colored nail varnish with a practiced ease. You have a habit of making everything look easy, he’s noticed. For lack of better, less ironic wording, he always felt you seemed to possess a different kind of magic. One that makes the world go round, his world, one that makes everything all the more enamoring. Any spell or enchantment couldn’t hold a candle to you in his eyes.

“Can I do it?” He suddenly inquires, tucking his hair behind his ear even though it rebelliously fell right back into place. He’s decided he’s got to do something other than stare at you all day, though he is perfectly content to do so.

When you turn your head, he’s looking at you curiously, and a smile is quick to tug at your lips. He mirrors your expression with a lopsided grin, a pale scarlet dusting his cheeks.

You nod and he scoots in behind you, peering over your shoulder at the spread of polishes laid out on the small table. Before he started, you switch on another lamp with a flick of your finger so he could see a bit better. He snagged the bottle of baby pink polish you’d been working from, uncapping it and gingerly taking your hand in his own. When you opened your mouth to point him in the right direction he hushed you with a quiet hum and you laugh softly, leaning back against his chest as you let him take creative control.

He settled his chin on your shoulder, his head rested against yours as he got to work with unwavering determination. No matter the task, Bill Weasley will always find a way to make it seem as though it was of the utmost importance. Whether it be washing the dishes or being called off to work, that stoic look of concentration never failed to make an appearance. Yes, his hands had been a bit shaky and perhaps it was from the extra scoop of sugar he puts in his tea, perhaps it wasn’t, but so far he hadn’t done half bad.

With your free hand, you snag his mug of tea and take a sip, smiling to yourself at how obscenely sweet it was. If one thing was obvious, it was that he had the biggest sweet tooth out of anyone you’d ever known. He made a discontented protest when you moved once more and nearly messed up his progress, though it was one that was easily satisfied with a kiss.

For a while after that things were quiet, save for the consistent patter of the raindrops trickling down outside and his steady breathing in your ear. A cinnamon flavored candle had been gracing the room with its delightful fragrance, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t remind him of home. It made everything all the more cozy. The day was nothing short of peaceful and everything you’d dreamed it would be; not even Bill’s lighthearted grumbling over your constant fidgeting could take away from the moment. He was the cause after all, he couldn’t expect you to stay still with the chaste and absentminded kisses he’d been pressing upon your neck. It was only fair.

“I used to paint my mother’s nails, you know,” he murmurs then, still focused on the task at hand. You hum softly in response to urge him to continue on. “Whenever she’d gotten a cold or even just felt under the weather, I’d paint her nails to lift her spirits. It was this ruby red color she always adored. Granted I was fifteen and it looked absolutely horrendous and— love don’t move!”

You giggle out a soft apology and turn your head to kiss his cheek, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry.”

He pursed his lips with a hint of a smile and sighed softly, diligently continuing on with his work. “Now Ronnie gets to do it.”

The thought alone made you smile because the one and only time you’d let Ron Weasley do your nails, and even Fred for that matter, you’d ended up with more polish on your skin than your nails. It had even wound up on them, you recall. They had insisted you were moving far too much and that may have been a little true, but you’ll never let them live down their terrible nail painting abilities.

Bill’s hair had been tickling your skin and you fought the shiver it elicited, but you couldn’t seem to help it in that moment. The tiny brush clutched in his hand had smudged the soft pink pigment onto your skin, and he huffed out a laugh against your neck. He stuck the brush back in its rightful bottle with acceptance that he couldn’t get any more work done before his lips found your neck once more, your laughter relentless when he kissed the sensitive skin. He knew this fact very well, and used it to his full advantage as retaliation. His arm encircled your waist momentarily as he squeezed you close in a half hug, his own laughter mingling with yours in the little living room.

You manage free yourself from his embrace, cautious not to further smudge your freshly painted manicure. He was quick to get on his feet, though, grabbing your wrist and twirling you to face him as he tugged you close.

“Careful! You just might ruin all your hard work, love,” you scold with a beaming smile, but he seems to be far more concerned with you presently.

Your laughter fades considerably in that moment as he envelopes you in his arms once more, and with careful movements you wrap your own around his neck. You’d never quite gotten used to the way he looks at you and you probably never will; it was as if the very world revolved around you. It made the familiar crimson burn and blossom across your cheeks, his smile widening a fraction as you avert your gaze.

“You’ve got to stop doing that, you know,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek while you try and focus on absolutely anything but the way your blush is creeping down your neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he chuckles, but he was very much aware of the meaning behind your words.

You cast a pointed stare in his direction, daring to look at him fully. A stubborn chunk of ginger hair had fallen from where it was tucked behind his ear, brushing over his cheek. A sigh leaves your lips and he finds himself resting his forehead on yours, nudging you softly with his nose. You were starting to feel like a moment more perfect than this couldn’t exist. The pungent scent of nail polish was something you could very much do without, but it was only a minor inconvenience. For you were in the arms of the love of your life and not a single thing could surpass that.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his eyes falling closed as a much softer smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “Very much.”

A quiet laugh escapes you, not one of mocking, but one of utter joy that had been too overflowing within you not to do so. His chuckle puffs against your lips, his arms tightening their hold. “I love you, Bill Weasley,” you breathe earnestly in the closeness, nearly stealing a kiss before you let yourself finish your declaration. “Very much.”

Both your cheeks were stained in varying hues of pink as your lips melded in the most loving of kisses, and there was no greater feeling.

—

Tags: @theweasleysredhair @loony-loopy-lupinn @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

#bill weasley #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley one shot #bill weasley imagine

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togglesbloggle · 3 years

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How We Decided

The day after tomorrow- that is, February 18, 2021- the Perseverance rover will attempt to land on the surface of Mars. It will enter the planetary atmosphere at an acute angle, giving it as much time as possible to experience drag and slow down from orbital velocities. Because Mars’ air is so thin, and the rover is so heavy, this will fail- in the best case, Perseverance would still be going almost a thousand miles an hour when it impacts the surface. To help save itself, the craft will deploy a parachute of advanced design, seventy feet across and able to withstand supersonic velocities. This, too, will fail. Even with a parachute, there is simply not enough air between Perseverance and the Martian surface to slow it down all the way. So this is where the rockets kick in. Once air resistance slows the rover to a bit less than two hundred miles per hour, the heavy heat shield will be jettisoned, and a system of secondary rockets will fire against the direction of motion until it slows to near-hovering. In a final flourish, the rover will descend from the rocket-boosted frame on coiled springs, until it touches down in the western part of Jezero crater in the northern hemisphere of Mars.

As it happens, Perseverance’s destination was one of the very last things we decided about it- not until the craft itself was fairly thoroughly engineered and designed. Formally, the decision was made by the mission directorate. In practice, they follow the consensus of the scientific community, which in turn hashes things out at a series of open-invitation workshops. Things began with a call for white papers- an open suggestion box, basically. In 2015, the first workshop narrowed things down from thirty serious proposals to eight candidates. In 2017, the second workshop further winnowed the list down to three. And in October of 2018, after three days of presentation, debate, and discussion, the final workshop selected Jezero Crater from these final three candidates using a simple vote of all attendees, and passed on the recommendation to the mission leads.

I haven’t been in the business for very long, so the final workshop was the only one of these where I actually participated. It wasn’t a close vote as such, and I didn’t break any ties, and technically we were just making a strongly worded suggestion. Nonetheless, my vote is one of the reasons why the Rover will be going to Jezero Crater instead of Syrtis Major or Gusev, and I think I’m entitled to feel ownership of this mission choice, just a little bit.

(This is, of course, terrifying.)

Having gone through the experience, there were a few surprises worth noting. The first was how small some of the numbers are here. The conference was not very large: only thirty proposals, debated by just a few hundred attendees. I’ve seen book review contests with more entries, and that are read by a wider audience. Which is to say, this is a situation that was, and is, extremely responsive to individual effort. In that small a room, populated by people that are philosophically committed to changing their minds when they see good evidence or a good argument, one person can stand up and change the future in a very real way.

The second surprise was the attendance requirements. Or rather, the lack thereof. The project is public, paid for by American taxpayers, to whom I am profoundly grateful. And one way the process reflected that public-spiritedness is that this is not a walled garden. A small attendance fee (iirc, $40?), and you’re in. You get a vote, if you want to use it. A few non-scientists even took us up on this; there’s one retiree (a former schoolteacher, I think) that’s attended every major conference I’ve been to in the last few years, and sets up a small table in the back with his home mineral collection just for fun. In practice this open-door policy is limited by the obscurity of the event itself; if you don’t move in research circles, you have to be something of a space exploration superfan to hear about it. Still, as symbols go, you could do worse.

And now that we’re coming up on the day itself, the same kind of public-facing mindset is making me think about why I was persuaded to vote for Jezero Crater, what it means to explore there, and how I’d justify that choice to those of you that made the ongoing discovery of Mars possible in the first place.

If you want to know what Perseverance is like, and what you can reasonably do with it, start with Curiosity- the two are built, more or less, on the same chassis. That means you have a mobile science lab about the size of a Volkswagon Beetle. Add some mechanical improvements (no more wheel punctures!) and a few bells and whistles (microphone! helicopter for some reason!). Trade out some of the scientific instruments- raman spectroscopy instead of a mass spectrometer, for example. And it’s got these:

That, dear reader, is a sample return canister. Not to be returned immediately, alas, but to be returned nonetheless. One of Persevereance’s primary directives is to find interesting rocks, collect them, and leave them in place for a sample return mission in the early 30s. There’s a ton of work we can do in situ, but there’s even more we can do in a clean lab back home; things like isotopic analysis really need a much more controlled environment than you’ll get in the field. And so a major, major consideration is to optimize Perseverance’s landing site for cool rocks that we’d like to take back home.

The other thing that Perseverance is really good at is astrobiology. There’s no such thing as a life sign detector as such, but this rover represents an attempt to approach that ideal: instruments like SHERLOC and SuperCam are adept at finding organic compounds and fine-scale mineralogy and chemistry that might be influenced by microbial metabolism. This is a natural extension of what we’ve been learning so far: Spirit and Opportunity showed us that Mars formed under the influence of liquid water. Curiosity showed us that this was not just wet, but actively habitable: lakes and rivers at a neutral pH under a rich and temperate atmosphere. The next question along this line is the hardest, and the scariest: we know it was habitable, but was it inhabited?

If you’re like me, that question makes you feel weird. Collecting rocks is one thing, but a fossil? The mind rebels. We’ve spent the last two generations of space exploration tempering our expectations, reminding ourselves that the other worlds in our solar system are largely barren and dead, learning again and again how precious life is in the cosmos. It’s hard to get in the mindset of people back in the 40s and 50s who could, somewhat reasonably, imagine that Mars might not just host life but multicellular life, vegetation and robust macroscopic ecosystems. We look back at the science fiction of the era, swarthy soldiers hopping from planet to planet in silver rockets, and laugh at the naivete. A smile at the exuberance of youth, if we’re feeling generous. When we were first beginning, we may have imagined ancient canals on Mars and crystal cities on Venus, but that was when space was a blank canvas for us to paint our fantasies. We’ve learned so much since then, and if it was less fun, at least it was true. We did the hard thing and accepted reality over fantasy. We accept that extraterrestrial environments are hostile to life- cratered, silent, and still. We’re grownups now.

Unless…

Unless.

Imagine that we were born just a bit earlier. Say, three and a half billion years or so. We raise our telescopes to the sky, and we see a sister-planet. Not red, but white and blue, with an atmosphere full of clouds and multiple large bodies of water scattered across its surface, prominent ice caps and snow-capped highlands, rivers tracing their way down to the lowlands in the north. (Maybe the water is all under the ice, not open to the air at the surface; maybe the liquid pools are small and limited to craters, not feeding a large ocean.) Sober scientists might have suggested we shouldn’t get our hopes up too much- after all, the gravity is much lower, there’s no tectonic recycling, and there’s no protective magnetosphere. But is sterility really the default assumption we should be making here? Is ‘we are alone in the cosmos’ really the most sane conclusion to draw from this situation? Is it not worth, perhaps, sending a rover to go see?

We’ve adapted our sensibilities to a dead solar system because in the moment we’re looking, it kind of is. We’re hopeful for the icy moons- and the evidence keeps mounting there as well- but the terrestrial planets are a grim reminder of the fragility and contingency of our own world. The thing is, the more we learn, the more we discover that we’re a bit late to a very, very interesting party. Venus is a hellscape, but it probably didn’t start that way. Mars is a desert, but once it was an oasis. What makes Earth special among the terrestrial worlds isn’t that it developed a temperate climate, but that it kept a temperate climate for more than four billion years. Stability, not habitability, is the party trick that makes us unique in the solar system. And if we’re really committed to being grownups, to accepting what’s real instead of what’s easy, we have to learn that lesson too.

And life does not need four billion years to begin. Not even close.

That brings us to Jezero Crater. The most interesting feature here is a large river delta- based on some clever geology, we’re pretty sure that a large river emptied into the crater during Mars’ wet period. When the rapidly-flowing water hit the still water of Lake Jezero, the loose sediments being carried along the current all fell out of suspension at this place, forming a large pile of detritus at the mouth of the river that accumulated over the lifetime of the system. Even more interesting, check out this geologic map:

See those tiny teal deposits to the right side of the image? Those are also river delta deposits. Which means the thing labeled ‘delta’ on this map isn’t the original extent- it used to be much, much larger, at least twice as wide. Which also means that the outer edge of the ‘delta’ that we see here in this image is actually an erosional surface, and we get a natural cross-section of the thing with the oldest deposits at the bottom and the youngest at the top, just before Mars lost its hydrosphere. By climbing the outer edge, we can move through time across a large fraction of the habitable period.

Here’s another image I’d like you to see:

The crater I’ve been showing you is the small circle in the lower right- color is elevation, covering a span of about 5 km. The black line is the watershed of that river, the region of Mars that channeled water to the delta. In other words, the river delta collects sediments- and potentially, biosignatures- from a region hundreds of kilometers in diameter, and gathers them all in one place, neatly sorted by time.

For this reason, ancient deltas on Earth are a favorite of paleontologists. In addition to being comfortably wet and active itself- plenty of access to biologically important nutrients, fresh supplies of liquid water, and a nice dynamic environment- deltas do the legwork for us. Rather than exploring a huge fraction of the planet with a tiny rover, hoping that we stumble upon an ancient life sign, we can position ourselves at the mouth of the proverbial fire hose and let life come to us.

This does come with some tradeoffs. Most importantly, whatever we find, we won’t know the original geologic setting. If we find an unambiguous fossil of some kind- a microbial mat, perhaps- then we’ll know less than if we’d found it in its original home. And if we don’t find life, then the samples we take will be similarly uncertain. They’ll be defined in time, at least relative to one another, but not in space. In the case of life signs, this is an important caveat, but the bare fact of proving that extraterrestrial life exists is sufficiently monumental that it’s still a secondary concern. But if we’re just talking about geology, that’s a hard thing to lose; that terrifying multi-stage descent isn’t the only risk we’re taking. We’re leaning into the astrobiology mission hard with this one.

And the search for life is, in itself, fraught. That’s putting it mildly. There’s every chance that any evidence that’s even slightly marginal is going to touch off decades of debate, rather than being some kind of slam-dunk. As it should! Life is such a fuzzy concept, and such an important concept, that it should absolutely be held to the highest degree of scrutiny we can muster. This is why it matters that Perseverance includes sample return- in the highly likely case that the findings are disputed, we’ll hopefully have the chance to subject those samples to the highest degrees of scrutiny. So it feels like the right time to go hunting.

On top of that, there’s the ‘evidence of absence’ problem. Strong biosignatures update our priors very hard in the direction of life on Mars. But what is the correct amount of evidence necessary to convince us that Mars never was alive? I’m not sure, but failure to find microbial mats in Jezero probably isn’t enough. So the search for life can succeed, but if it ‘fails’ that doesn’t necessarily teach us much; the best experiments teach you something no matter what, and ideally a commitment this large would meet that standard. This is, more or less, baked into the search for extraterrestrial life, and there aren’t too many ways out from under that problem.

That said, Jezero in particular has some compensation. As I mentioned, we’re collecting a lot of good data regardless; and even without the gologic context, there’s a ton of opportunity to sample different minerals and how they formed, and get a nice broad sample of the Martian surface over time. And, even better, here’s the location of another interesting potential field site, in northeast Syrtis:

Note the proximity to Jezero crater! And Syrtis is also a fantastic candidate for a sample return mission. It has exposed mesas with layered outcrops going all the way back to the earliest days of Mars, and extending (potentially) through many of the most interesting periods. Now, these are not ideal for the search for life, although they’d give us a ton of technical data about surface chemistry and the behavior of the atmosphere during the early, wet periods; it would go a long way towards resolving arguments about the temperature of the early Martian climate, for example, or tracing the early destabilization and loss of the magnetosphere while teaching us loads about the planet’s core.

Those mesas are still pretty far away. Too far, probably, for a sensible rover lifespan to make it all the way there. But there’s a plan- called the ‘Midway’ route, as a nod to the compromise nature of it. See, halfway between Jezero and these mesas, there are a lot of banded rocks that look suspiciously like they’re sourced from the table mesas in Syrtis. And those, we can get to, maybe. If we call a specific deadline on looking for life in Jezero, then we can pivot to Midway and hopefully take a really deep look. So, in the end, we’re going hard for astrobiology research, but we’re not going all-in.

The importance of the search for life is… well, there are a lot of people out there, and we enter the world in a lot of different ways. Most of us agree that the existence of extraterrestrial life would be a Big Deal, and we tend to have a lot of different reasons for that. It’s not a bad subject for a future post or three, in fact. But there’s one thing lurking in the back of my head that’s a non-obvious reason to go looking. This wasn’t discussed at the workshop particularly, but it fed into my vote somewhat. Check the logic of this for me, see if it makes sense:

Worrying about existential risks, we sometimes talk about the ‘great filter’. That is, the mysterious phenomenon which explains the lack of extraterrestrial civilizations reaching out to us. Now, maybe we’re in a zoo or a preserve or something, and intelligences are out there watching after all; maybe the Earth really is the center of the cosmos, because of the simulation hypothesis or the various religious explanations. There’s no real way to know for sure at this point. But consider the space of very real possibilities where the universe actually is material, and actually is mostly barren. Why?

Stepping through the sequence, it might be that abiogenesis is really hard- going from a temperate world to a living one is almost (but not quite) impossible. Maybe there’s some hurdle to clear between genesis and encephalization. Maybe, given encephalization, civilization and tool-use are almost impossible. Or maybe there are many civilizations like ours, and the great filter is ahead of us- it is almost impossible for technological civilizations not to self-destruct or turn in to lotus-eaters before they reach interstellar civilization. There are a lot of possibilities for the filter, and for present purposes we’ll divide them into two categories: those which we would have already passed, and those which are in our future.

And here’s the thing: for each possibility we can exclude from the great filter, all the other possibilities increase commensurately, becoming more likely in our estimation. (Assuming the exclusion is ‘clean’ and doesn’t favor some other possibility, that is.) Given that the silence continues, if we could somehow prove that technological self-destruction isn’t a big risk, that would commensurately increase our guesses about how hard abiogenesis is.

Life on Mars, especially if we could be very sure that it evolved independently of Earth life, would be a strong argument against the difficulty of abiogenesis. One biosphere in the solar system, and nowhere else, might be down to luck. The one biosphere has to be somewhere, right? Two in the solar system, and nowhere else, is a good bit less reasonable. If we find a second genesis on Mars, then we’ve learned that life is not rare. That the hundreds of billions of stars in the Milky Way are likely host to many billions of different living (or at least once-living) worlds.

And as wonderful as that news is, as much as it makes me so happy that I literally had to take a second to cry on my bed for a bit, it also makes the great silence much, much scarier. Today, we can reassure ourselves by saying that life may be rare in the universe. But what if it isn’t? If the cosmos is full of life, but not full of thought, then…

If this is the case, we need to know. We need to know as soon as possible, and we need to know it while we’re engaged in the great project of technological development and moral progress. It’s easy to imagine that this particular mission is one that can be framed in purely positive terms- the joy of discovery, the vastness of truth, the love of how things might be. But I do also have this sense of civilizational fragility, you know? And understanding the risks that we face and the chances we’re taking- that’s not idle curiosity. That’s genuinely urgent.

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batarella · 3 years

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3 birds 1 stone - chapter 12

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: We continue the three perspectives!!! AND we got special appearances from a few characters today eeeeee we’re so close to the finale. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

WORDS: 12,068 WARNINGS: violence, arm dislocation, muscle injuries, alcoholism, mentions of coffee addiction and insomnia

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

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Dick:

That day, this all ends.

Telling himself he got into this mess because he hadn’t a choice, that he hadn’t already stopped because it was all just too riveting and captivating and not at all within his control, was nothing short of a lie.

He had every say in it.

But not even his fucking conscience could convince him to stop. He wanted this mess. Dove right into the lava. He knew every bit of the heartbreak he’d have to endure and he willingly brought it to himself. To get lost into the deep dark woods, with nothing more than an oil lamp, to be pricked by the many thorns and suffocated by the leaves and trees that crowd about much like a bush. To get lost in her, and never want to climb out of any of it. He knew how slippery the road ahead of him was and still he kept going, kept driving, sped up a little even when he thought he’d actually get to where the stars pointed him to.

But so profoundly was his loss of himself, without much effort at all to escape from those grasps even when he told himself he did; going to another woman, wanting the same arrest of his heart to hopefully take him away, but without halting those thoughts of Y/N and how her smile that he’d seen earlier that day would last until dark, maybe even beyond that. Those flares of her face and her voice and how he let them speak to her every night, change them into burning whispers against his ear when he’s memorized her voice too much to make her say anything he wanted her to, even when they only last in his head.

Dick never tried to stop her from taking her heart like that, even when he had to watch her be with another.

Tonight, it all ends. Every bit of this torture that he brought only to himself, it all comes to this sorry halt.

Dick, standing atop a roof of an office building in Dresher, knew that at that moment, he had to sit this one down. He had to be alone and in the darkness to make this as painful as it possibly could, hoping that if all that pain were to be felt now, compress them into this little tub of static blackness, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad the next day, and the day after that. Even when he knew this would backfire, he had to.

No one, especially not Y/N, would want him to end up with her. Tim deserved her. Hell, even Jason’s done a lot more for her sake than he had. He can't hope anymore. He can't let this go on.

All this would have gone better if he’d known this sooner.

So with him on that rooftop, sitting on the ledge fifty stories above as if not at all was he a push away from death, Dick let his finger scroll across his phone’s screen moist from his sweat. The battery was going to run out soon. He’d been there for hours, staring at that same picture of her from the day in the nursery, when the sun had been kind to her, touching the surface of her skin so perfectly, it showed more of the little details that he’d already memorized. Those exact images would be thrown out by the end of tonight. Pack their bags. Scram them out the door.

It had, as expected, proven to be difficult.

The thirty-seven pictures he took that day, he’d already heartly remembered by the end of it. Countless of times, he pulled them out of his pocket just to take a second to look, even at the worst. Another month had passed and nothing had happened much since, nothing out the ordinary, which meant their friendship was back to how it used to be. They were friends.

And that was why it ends tonight. Because if he doesn’t fight these thoughts, if he doesn’t fight her, he loses her. He loses this friendship.

Are you sure you want to delete this photo?

Confirm.

Thirty-six times, he let his finger do the talking. Not his heart. Not even his brain.

At the last one, the screen was too distorted by a fallen tear that had seeped out of his domino mask for him to go on. It was the only hindrance he needed to give up and stop. At least for a second.

But he couldn’t even dwell on it too much, or let himself cry, let it burn his skin off enough so it wouldn’t hurt any more afterwards. He couldn’t even let himself have that luxury when he heard the thudding noise of his brother’s boot-cladded feet, a Bo staff that hit the ground, and a black cape that enforced a gust of wind to blow against the back of his head.

Dick just closed his eyes, and just after that, Tim walked over to stand right behind him.

Greatest Detective in the World. But even an idiot would know what he was up to, sitting in the darkness crying while his feet dangle off a rooftop’s ledge, eyes to his phone like he was reading the saddest sob story in the whole world or that he’d just received a text that one of his loved ones’ lives had been taken away from cancer.

The way Tim was silent, he knew.

And Dick just let him believe it, without even a word to explain himself, he did. He let Tim’s mind do the figuring out and the explaining because not even his own words would be half that truth.

Tim’s voice that night wasn’t the kind he heard often.

“You think this is the right time for that, Dick?”

A crack on his knuckles, his throat sounding rough and beaten, Dick didn’t know what to even say.

“We called you fifteen times over at the bridge. We needed you-“

“Sorry-“

“And it turns out you’ve been at your phone the whole time-“

“You handled it without me.”

“That isn’t the fucking point.”

A month of silence, since that deathly night after they took Y/N home. Several minutes, together in one car, had proven to be one of the most insufferable moments of his life. And not surprisingly, it went on for even more days after that.

Dick turned off his phone, but Tim snatched it away from his hands and walked away so Dick couldn’t grab it.

He stood from the ledge. “Come on, Tim. Not cool.”

“Hmm. Cute,” Tim faked a smile and swiped around the screen, at the last picture of Y/N he had. “Could have sent it to me. And Jason.”

“Tim-“

“But it’s cool,” Tim said. He threw the phone back at Dick and he caught it just before it hit the ground. “All good. Finally, you have something of her all to yourself, right?”

Tim was Tim. Not this. Not someone so angry and grievous and someone who was looking at him that way with so much disgust when he used to be that young boy of fourteen who looked at his older brother like a god. How long, he thought, must he have kept all this frustration bundled up inside, where not even he could reach into. Someone who’s so calm, so in control of what he says, had finally given in and let his annoyance flourish about. He wondered, as anyone would, at what point Tim had finally had enough of all of this.

“Tim, please-“

“You,” Tim pointed his gloved finger right at Dick’s face.

“You were supposed to be my brother.”

Tim:

Of course, he’s had enough.

He’s had enough of all this a lot longer than anyone else, even he, would have thought.

It might have been since that day Y/N was crying over an argument they once had, over something he can't even remember, that almost pried them apart, only for Dick to come along and console her without telling Tim where he was, and he only knew because Y/N told him what happened. If she hadn’t, Tim wouldn’t have known.

He wouldn’t have known Dick had long been pining over the love of his life, never mind how she was in his arms and kissing his lips and calling for his name.

Dick, who could have literally anyone he could possibly wish for, just had to want her.

“What do you want me to say?” The asshole started after a moment’s silence, of nothing but a helicopter’s whirl from far above, the lack of light from everywhere around them, and their footsteps against the empty cement.

He couldn’t even look at his brother in the eye with his mask on, but he knew enough to know what he felt. It didn’t matter if he was sincere. It didn’t even matter that he cried.

“Nothing,” Tim said. “You’ve done your damage.”

“Damage?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Enlighten me.”

Tim scoffed and faked yet another laugh. It annoyed himself at that point.

“You are unbelievable-“

“I’m not trying to do anything with her anymo-“

“Don’t even start with that, asshole.”

Tim’s hands were shaking, and subconsciously he tried to repress those tremors, hoping they’d go away if he clenched them enough, but they only got worse.

“She was mine,” he cried. “And you just couldn’t handle that-“

“I never tried anything with her when you were together.” Dick tried to step closer to him but he just backed away.

“So you weren’t just waiting for us to break up so you’d swoop in and be the hero?” he scoffed. “I asked you to make sure she was okay, not take advantage of her hurting just so you’d have your chance.”

“And why did you break up, Tim?” He had the audacity to ask. “You didn’t love her anymore-“

“You knew I still did-“

“Then why hurt her?!”

“Because I was hurting her anyway!”

Never. He’s never been this angry. Not that he could recall.

“I was 17. Everything about me changed. Wayne Enterprises. Red Robin. Fucking Bruce dying and coming back to life. She was there but I was about to lose my fucking mind. I thought she didn’t have a place in all that mess anymore so I broke it off.”

Finally, he stepped close enough to Dick, almost to leveling with his height. His brother had his lips hidden, hands falling to his sides.

He looked terrified.

“Two seconds after that, I never regret anything more my whole fucking life. I thought talking to you would make her feel better, but you just couldn’t help but bat your pretty little eyes at her when she was vulnerable. I wanted to go back but I couldn’t ‘cuz you were already there!”

He was snarling, and a growl escaped his throat by the time he backed away. Tim didn’t even get to hear himself until he saw his own reflection in the white of Dick’s mask.

But Dick. He didn’t even take it as a hint to just shut up and take his rambling.

“I never meant to keep her away from you-“

“I went to you, Dick.” Tim wiped his lips with the back of his gloves, watched over to the next building to avoid his brother’s face. “I always went to you for help. With her. You know how long I’ve wanted her. And I went to you because I thought you were my brother and you’d help me.”

“I did help you!”

“You were helping yourself!”

His hands slammed against Dick’s chest, and it was a good thing he didn’t fight back. He would have just taken that as an excuse to keep hitting.

“Tim,” Dick held his hands up. Tim backed away. “Just go to her-“

“THIS ISNT ABOUT HER ANYMORE, ASSHOLE!”

Hands shoving his chest once again. This time, Dick had caught them, held them by his wrists enough so Tim couldn’t pull them away.

“THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND ME, GRAYSON!” Tim screamed. “WHAT HAPPENED TO HAVING EACH OTHER’S BACKS!”

“YOU THINK IT WAS MY CHOICE TO GET IN BETWEEN YOU!?”

It was from a whip of strength not even he had known prior, but it hurt when he finally could take his hands off of Dick’s grip, and with that, he backed further away, though his eyes couldn’t stray from looking straight into his brother’s.

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER IF IT WAS-“

“THEN I’M SORRY!’ Dick swallowed. “IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?!”

“No,” Tim’s knees hit the railing and so close did he fall, but he kept himself up, rubbed the bottom of his chin with his gloved hand. “You're not sorry…”

Dick’s silence. Even more so did he want to just lunge at him and strangle his vocal chords. No matter how far-fetched, Dick was supposed to tell him all the things he wanted him to say. So far, he’s said none of that.

Dick just watched when Tim turned around to rest his weight onto his palms, looking out into the open seeking for just about any kind of help there was that he could call out from the wind, but there was nothing.

“You're right,” Dick said, and Tim felt the cement crack from beneath his palms. “I’m not sorry.”

“Fucking bold of you-”

“What would have happened to her if I hadn’t stepped in?” He heard Dick’s voice louder and clearer, which meant he was walking closer towards him.

“I would have come back. I always wanted to come back, but by then she was all over you. I couldn’t-“

Tim looked at his own hands. “I had it coming. I can't blame her.”

Another whiff of air, and it blew the strands of his black locks right onto his eyelids. They stung, but he didn’t push them away. He just kept his eyes locked onto the blankness of the gray, the dark that went all the way into his spirit.

“But I do blame you-“

“Tim, you hurt her-”

“AND YOU HAVENT?!”

Dick caught his Bo staff, which Tim had thrown right at him as swiftly as he turned around. His mouth was as dry as his palms were sweating. His teeth were close to breaking. And his eyes dangerously drifting off into some unknown nowhere just so he wouldn’t have to look at such betrayal.

“Tim-“

Tim was shaking, or at least his hands were, when he gave into his impulses and moved so fast, grabbing Dick by the collar and standing him down.

“You stand there blaming me for all that hurt when here you are-“

“What the hell do you want me to say to you?!”

He was strong, stronger than any one of them would have thought. Dick couldn’t even move, much less out of shock than it was out of his hold on him too overwhelming to counter.

“Tim, this isn’t like you-“

“You have no idea what I’ll do,” Tim growled. “Why do you think I became Red Robin?”

To separate himself from the likes of what it used to be. To not be Robin anymore. To stray away from his ideals, ideals and morals no longer his.

Because he was, in his truest capacity, capable of much darker things than people seem to know. Even his own brother.

“I hate you-“

Dick, who took that second to take advantage of weakness, grabbed him by the wrists and pushed him off with the soles of his feet, not enough to send him to the ground but enough to almost topple him. And when he looked up, immediately, Tim’s fist headed for his brother’s head, but again it was caught by Dick’s palm.

“HEY, HEY, HEY, ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU!”

A much deeper, louder voice, the third one to be heard that night. It was that, and two strong arms that grabbed Tim by the shoulder and Dick by his suit’s back. Even when it wasn’t even to much effect, they stopped.

At least, for a second they did, before Tim started for Dick’s neck and he had to be held back with a strong hand right against his chest. “Let me go!”

“What the hell is going on with you two!?”

“Stay out of this Jason!”

It was easier for Jason to stand right in between, just to stop either of them from going after their skin. Dick had stopped. Tim, on the other hand, had to be held back by the shoulders. “Tim, calm down!”

“I said stay out of this!”

Jason:

“One of you pinheads tell me what’s going on!”

“Are you really gonna let Jason fight your battles, Dick?!”

Tim tried to push Jason out of the way. He was lucky, in fact, that none of them could see the irate look on his face hidden behind the safety of a red helmet. Otherwise they might have started for him too, just at how disgusted he looked at them both. And he had every right to be. He knew exactly why they were fighting. It was the devil in him who felt like asking.

Jason held him back with his cape. “Hey, KNOCK IT OFF-“

“Let go of me!”

“You don’t think I wanna bash this asshole’s brains out everyday, Tim?!” Jason hauled him to the floor. “Trust me. You can hold back.”

“Oh, fuck you, Todd.”

“You shut up.” Jason pointed at Dick. “If this is about Y/N I know exactly why Tim wants you dead.”

“And why am I the one you two’re ganging up on?!”

“If I was, Dick, I’d just let this one have at it with you. Thank me later.” Jason said, nodding over at Tim. Tim shrugged off his brother’s hold on him and frowned.

“You were never the one to trust, Dick,” Tim gulped. And Jason knew Dick would have thought the same. His flaring eyes, the burn that was almost never there from someone so usually calm. It was unnerving seeing Tim this way. “Look at everyone you’ve hurt. Y/N. Kori. When are you going to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking start with me, you little-“

“Hey! Knock it off!” Jason pushed Dick again with a shove of his hand. Dick stepped back.

“Jason, just get out of here -“

“I don’t know, man; Feels like I have to be the responsible one. For once.”

Tim grabbed Jason’s hand and hauled him to the side so he could step closer to where Dick was standing. “You don’t want to be a part of this.”

Jason, if not at all wanting that to be true in the slightest sense, didn’t fight back and took Tim’s shoving. But, as he’d thought, Dick was the one who looked at him so slyly he wanted to grab his lips and use them to haul him over the building.

Suddenly, every part of his skin wanted to burst, blood beating through every inch of vessel and flesh so much it burned him. His mouth sewed shut, ears hurting at the redness. Again, if not for the helmet, it would have been a dead giveaway.

But Dick wasn’t having it.

“Trust me, Tim. He already is.”

“What the hell do you mean-“

“I said, enough. You two settle this at home.”

Jason tried for Dick’s shoulder just to push him to back away, but he threw his hand off.

“Don’t fucking act like the good guy between the three of us,” Dick said. “What are you gonna say next? That this isn’t what Y/N would want?”

“You think it is?!”

Dick chortled and he turned away. Tim still wouldn’t let his glare away from his brother and if Jason would let him, he’d have mauled him to death.

“You always did think you knew what was best for her, didn’t you?”

“Jason, what the hell is he talking about?”

He never told him. The bastard never told Tim when he was so sure he would, when he basically told him that night outside Y/N’s doorstep that by the end of the hour, Tim would know what he’d done and he’d have found Jason by the next, even when he tries too hard to disappear, which he had tried to do for four months, hiding from his brother, and not long after he’ll never be welcomed into the manor as so much as a guest. It did surprise him, after many months, that Tim hadn’t so much as acknowledged it. Part of him wanted to believe Tim didn’t care, or had already forgiven Y/N and in turn forgiven him.

But, of course, Dick hadn’t told him. The asshole wanted this to drag out as painfully long as he possibly could. Make him carry that burden himself just because he thought it was right, as Tim’s brother, even when he wanted no part of those niceties.

“You wanna tell him?” The blue leotard wearing ass said. “Or should I?”

“Don’t fucking bring me into this shitshow-“

“Brother, you walked right into it yourself.”

“I will kill you,” Jason growled. “One of these days.”

“Tell me what?”

Tim’s voice, the softest it had been since the start of that night.

He shouldn’t.

His little brother, one whose relationship had proven far too difficult to build, if there was ever a chance at a good relationship at all. His brother. An established brotherhood he once despised so much, took too many years just for it to be something tolerable. His little brother.

He never had a little brother like Tim. Perhaps even now, he wouldn’t. Not once he knows.

“Tim, I-“

“Jason, tell me what’s going on.”

Dick no longer even had that smirk on him. He just looked sad for the both of them, as he should be. As anyone should be.

“Just tell him.”

So much did his fist want to just fly and land straight at Grayson’s perfectly chiseled cheekbones, break his face so much he wouldn’t live to stand a day.

But Jason had grown too silent, too guilty.

He couldn’t even take off his helmet and look at either of them in the eye.

Tim stepped right in front of him and on his face kind of worry that often lingered prior to it being the worst rage to ever engulf into.

Was there a way out of this? To counter the impact? Make it so it didn’t hurt so much?

If Grayson had just told him, it wouldn’t have to be this way.

“Jason-“

He looked up, and through the slits of his visor, he knew Tim wanted to look at him in the eye, to find something out of this truth.

“I…”

His throat, it hurt to even breath. And when this happened, he usually takes the helmet off. This time, however, he couldn’t do that. Not when he had so much to say despite him not wanting to.

“I slept with her…”

It was a shame Dick didn’t look too much like an ass right then. If he did, he’d have a reason for himself to just jump at him with a knife. But all he could even see, all he could bring himself to watch, was his feet.

Nothing else. Not when Tim was looking at him that way.

“What?”

“I slept with her-“

Tim.

Was it even Tim anymore? The boy in front of him? Who never looked at him with so much betrayal?

“When?”

“A few months ago…” he said. “Lasted about a month.”

Then, it wouldn’t even have mattered if it were him who broke the news, the asshole that Dick was, or the Gotham Times.

Tim.

No longer his little brother. Never will be again.

Right for the neck. That’s where Tim pounced a second less than he was smart enough to move away.

Dick:

That asshole deserved it.

But if anyone deserved it more than Jason did, it was Dick.

Was it to divert Tim’s attention from himself? Give him a breather and a while for Tim’s anger to mellow down taking it out on Jason so he doesn’t take it out on him so much? Possibly.

But the moment Tim’s hands squeezed the living daylights out of Jason’s neck, he knew he shouldn’t have brought it up. It was wrong. This was all wrong.

He started for Tim’s arms, grabbing them both just to at least give Jason enough time to breath, but this newfound strength certainly wasn’t one he’d expected. When he did manage to pull them off, Tim swung his fist right at Dick’s face.

Then, he went back for Jason, who then took that short time to grab both his fists and stop them for hurling him over the roof.

This was his fault. This was his doing.

And all the more did he want this to end when Jason held Tim strong enough to make him scream, and with that, he threw another punch right for his helmet, shattering the visor beneath his bruised knuckles. Jason tried to kick him away with his knee, but Tim was pushing him.

Jason, who should have been a lot stronger, was not doing much to fight Tim. And instead, he tried talking him out of it.

“Tim!” he coughed. Tim still holding both fists went on to push him. “Tim, stop!”

Head slam against his helmet, and it broke, enough for a part of it to be chipped off and expose his forehead.

Jason finally hurled Tim over to the ground just so he could wipe the blood stain off from seeping down his eyes, but that wasn’t much of a good idea. Not when Tim took that as a chance to jump for his brother, grabbing him by the shoulders, and with the forces of their own bodies flying across the wind, the railing wasn’t enough to stop their fall.

Tim and Jason fell over the building, down fifty stories with one’s hands wrapped around the others throat, and Tim went on to strangle him even as they fell.

Dick, without even thinking much, dove into that same abyss. Did he have a plan? No. Was this going to work anyway? Probably not. But he had to try.

At least, it was all he had to do. When Dick leapt, head soaring straight down for a car so miniscule that wouldn’t be so small the more he wastes time, his brothers thrashing bodies that broke the speed of their fall worked to his sorry advantage and Dick managed to catch up.

He grabbed Tim off, thankfully with the fall lessening his grip but not at all did it change the murderous look on his face. This wasn’t his brother. This can't be him. This was someone who had all his frustrations bottled up in the form of coffee addiction, insomnia, and workaholic tendencies, someone who hadn’t vented out his hurt and anger at him, who he apparently had been hating for a while.

When he had him in his grasps, Dick grappled up to the next building. “Jason, hold on!”

It was, in actuality, the worst idea he’s ever come up with. Other than the fact that Tim weighed a good 170 pounds, Jason was no lighter. Not even in the slightest. And carrying both of them? He might as well be hauling up a whole tank.

That one single grappling hook showed them no appreciation despite it holding on the best it could. And it was to no help that the hook landed on a building too far.

They were just yards up the ground when the rope tightened, and the impact on Dick’s arm he was sure had the bone dislocated. A scream was all he could muster at the shooting pains that went all the way up his neck, but still, he held on, and even when it lasted no more than a few seconds, it was all too agonizing not to feel like it lasted hours.

All it took was to at least break the fall, but that was all he could handle. Dick let go of the grapple gun and they were falling across the whole block, across the street over to an abandoned lot with junkyard cars and probably some broken glass scattered across the ground.

Tim landed on top of one of the cars, breaking the windshield under his weight. Jason wasn’t so lucky, rolling across the cold cement with it hitting his helmet, enough to expose his face.

And Dick, with it not helping his arm at all, landed right against the fenced border and fell to the ground. Some wire sticking out might have impaled his skin.

He was breathing. Was he still breathing? There was throbbing. Redness. Blood that went to his eyes, most probably. He could hear his heart and basically the rest of his senses going haywire.

When he looked up, already Tim could stand, right on top of the cars.

Now lacking his Bo staff, Tim smashed the broken metal beneath his feet and pulled out a slab hard enough to break bones.

Tim:

If Dick were smart, he should have let him die.

This was always how he was, how this was all going to boil down to. His so many ways of dealing with loss, heartbreak, and stress, it was never going to hold him back enough if he hadn’t an outlet. And this, tonight, this was all part of the inevitable. He did what he promised Y/N. He kept off the coffee and had eight hours of sleep every day. But did it mean it warded off his thoughts on her? On his brothers? On their betrayal and how much he’d been holding that all off for months? Not even close. In fact, they grew worse.

Who does he start with?

Dick was all the way over at the fence. Wounded. Dislocated arm. He pulled himself up and went for a wall he could smash his shoulder against just to pull back the bone.

And Jason.

Shit.

Should have went for him first.

Two glocks in his hands. This man wasn’t afraid in the slightest.

“Jason, don’t!” Dick cried. Too late. He already shot one of the cars.

Tim spun about just to dodge at least the shattered glass. He was aiming for his legs, at all the parts of his body that wouldn’t be so lethal. How kind of him.

Which meant, that if it were the vital parts of him exposed, Jason wouldn’t shoot.

So he didn’t even try to hide himself, his chest especially, when he hurled himself over the many car hoods and roofs. Jason kept going, and this time he went to shooting the glass on purpose. Probably to hit him with the shards.

Tim reached the wall and pushed his feet so he’d roll on the ground. Cape up, he looked through the many places to hide, but he didn’t want to hide. What he wanted was to grab one of them, any of them, by the shoulders, pin them to the ground, and have his fist have at it with their stupid faces.

He ran up to Jason, cape protecting his legs and arms, and just as he did Dick had crept up behind him, grabbing Jason by a headlock. Elbow to Dick’s chest, he took that as a chance to grab his guns and throw them over to the side. So close did he miss one of the bullets, if grazing his shoulder was ever a miss. But he ignored that hiss and landed a hit on Jason’s stomach.

But not even that could last long, with Jason practically subdued. Dick set Jason aside to block Tim’s fist from landing anywhere near either of them. He kept hitting, swinging, it was all a blur after the third time he felt his shoulders hurt. And Grayson’s was no better. So he aimed for it.

What was he doing?

Foot landing on Dick’s pelvis. It was enough for his body to skid across the ground. He looked up at his brother, teeth gritting so much that it hurt, Tim didn’t move fast enough before he could move away from Dick’s fist, which landed a good one right to his teeth.

Jason:

This was the most ridiculous fight he’s ever been on. No different from a fucking pellet gun war over at the gardens that one time they were drunk and stupid. This was a game, one he really didn’t want to play. He should have known, and what he thought that time was that somehow, she was worth going through all this chaos for. That moment of bliss, that month of beauty and serenity and peace, was it worth this? With his own brothers?

It wouldn’t have been if it was just a month of beauty and serenity and peace. But it wasn’t just about that anymore, was it?

So this had to be worth it. In every way. With Dick and Tim over a few yards away, Dick holding his shoulder and trying so hard to avoid being hit there and Tim so unruly and angry and being so taken over with his rage, not at all was he anything like this before tonight.

He had the choice. To grab the gun that had skidded over to his side, shoot them both in the shoulder to put everything to a stop, or join in on their rumble to drag this out as long as inhumanely possible. Three different men who knew exactly what the others’ moves will be, this wasn’t going to last very long if it were to be a good way.

But, if this were to be dealt with bullets, he can say goodbye to either of them of ever being his brother again, to never be a part of this family so hard to love but love nevertheless.

He stopped his hand from reaching for the gun, and with that, he started for the two.

Jason grabbed Tim’s ankle just before it would have landed on Dick’s chin, threw him to the side so he’d land on the floor.

Dick’s fist, which would have hit Tim, instead hit Jason right at the nape of his neck. He almost toppled over to the ground, and with that flash of rage, he struck back at Dick right at his bad shoulder. Might have been too far. But he didn’t care.

Tim hit his back, right up against his sharp knee. He cried out at the unnerving bellows that went straight to his head, picked himself up just before he hit the ground.

Another hit for his head, but Dick had stopped it with his own hand, twisted Tim’s ankle so he’d once again lose his balance and fall.

Three different men.

Three different fights.

Three men who knew each other far too well to be beaten so easily.

They jostled and rolled about, around the junkyard over so many of the cars and the broken glass and even the fence that had long blown over. This wasn’t at all supposed to be what they’d spend the night on, but with the slabs of metal being thrown, the cars almost hurled up with their peak human strength, their limbs flailing, some barely missing a nerve on their head and some wrecking a whole tooth out of their mouth, it was not, to even some capacity, ever going to end as well as any of them hoped.

And with them at the middle of the barren empty grounds, Jason dodging Dick’s fist only to meet Tim’s knee, Dick being absolutely smothered by Tim’s head smashing against his, and Tim being pinned to the ground by either of his brothers larger than him that he hated so much.

It all would have ended in death, after the kind of blur that clouded so much of their moral thought and any kind of sense at all to remind them of what they were doing, if not for something far too strong for them to easily swerve from.

Or, better yet, three things too strong for them to swerve from.

At a whiff so quick for any of them to have possibly even sensed, a flash of purple was the first to wave off that blur from their eyes. And it went for Tim.

Stephanie was first to subdue him, holding Tim down with her knee landing right at the small of his back. He cried out both at the shock he hadn’t expected and the pulsing pain that probably went all the way up his spine, but he was done. Steph had grabbed Tim’s head and pinned him down right against the floor.

The next one was Dick, and before any of them could even turn, something so brightly blinding, a figure of yellow, fell from one of the cars’ hood and grabbed Dick by the neck. Duke was smaller, but not at all was that some disadvantage. His huge armored arms, locking Dick enough for him to just flail his hands about, it was enough to make him stop.

And, just as he expected, the next thing he saw after that flash of a second he was spared, was a blur of black so silently creeping up on him, Jason couldn’t move even when he knew it was coming. No one could have seen it. Not even him. By the next second, he was bent over one of the cars, hands to his back, and Cassandra had a taser stuck to his hip.

“NO, NO, NO, CASS DON’T-“

Barely enough to fry him unconscious, but enough to fucking electrocute his skin off so his muscles could barely move.

Dick:

This should all have ended sooner than it even happened.

And the shame crept in, not even when he stopped struggling against Duke’s hold on him, but when Barbara, the last to come into the scene, flew in from the window right across.

She looked like she wanted to murder all three of them by a rope around their necks. One single rope. Having three just wouldn’t be worth it.

She took off her cowl and let her red hair fall to her back, so they’d easily see just how disgusted she looked at them all, at the look on her eyes, at the look on all their eyes.

“Duke, let me go-“

“I’m sorry, Dick.”

“Please.”

“If we could, Nightwing,” Babs swallowed. “I’ll have you tied to that streetlamp for the rest of the night.”

Jason tried to reach for something in the car just to kick Cass away, but she tased him again. Some smoke flew up from his flesh.

“Cass, that’s enough,” Babs said.

Cass glared at them all, then settled to just holding Jason down with his arms.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on with you three?”

“Maybe if you get your foot out of my head, Steph, I’d actually get my brain back and answer her question,” Tim said.

“You lost your brain when you fell down that building.”

“You saw that?”

Steph snorted. “You’re lucky I didn’t jump in until I had all of us on call.”

“Lucky?!”

Steph twisted Tim’s arm and his cries could be heard over to the next block.

Jason tried, again, to break free from Cass’s hold, but her fist wasn’t one to welcome when it landed much like a bat would’ve right up against Jason’s head.

And Tim, who almost pried Steph’s knee from against his back, was just pinned down again not even a second after breaking free.

They were too tired to go up against any of them.

So Dick, knowing there was no other, prettier way out of this, let go of his hands from gripping too hard on Duke’s arm. He didn’t let go, but it had loosened, enough for him to properly talk. Babs went over to him. That dagger-infested glower stuck through, but at least there was some appreciation for his lack of resistance.

“It was a misunderstanding-“

“Was it?!”

Babs clenched her jaw.

“This is about her, isn’t it-“

Tim’s voice echoed. “No!”

Tim:

He growled and shoved Steph’s hand away, but they kept on his arms, pushing them down against his spine. She was strong enough to subdue him, stronger now that he was exhausted and his muscles were all strained, but that didn’t mean he was, in any way, going to back down from this fight. This wasn’t over.

He could crane his head up enough to look at Babs.

“This is about these two traitors who lied to my face for months!”

Steph was having too much trouble keeping him down. “Tim!”

“Are you really going to take their side?!”

“No one is taking anyone’s side here.”

Babs eyed Cass at least to make her loosen her grip on Jason’s twisted arms. Cass rolled her eyes, sighed, and still without a word, she grabbed Jason by the back of his collar to make him stand. But it wasn’t without her taser stuck up to his side.

“Cass, I’m not gonna fucking fight you-“

“Just shut up, Jay,” Dick said, and with that, Duke tightened his arm.

“They wanna know,” Tim panted. “Tell them all why we’re in this mess.”

His voice, all broken and rageful and so unlike what anyone would have thought. It turned the heads of everyone around. Steph loosened her hand around Tim’s neck much out of her own disbelief.

“Stabbing me in the back the way you did…”

“Tim, you don’t have to-“ Babs went on, but Tim’s screams were too much.

“Tell them! Say why you’re all a bunch of ass-“

“You’re the one who wanted this to be some shitshow!” Jason’s teeth shouldn’t last long with how much he was gritting them when he hissed and snarled at Cass, who poked the taser just beneath his hip.

“Cass, enough with the taser.”

“Yeah, Cass,” Jason said. “Where the hell did you even get that?”

“Some douchey police officer over at Chinatown,” Duke said to him while still keeping his hands on Dick.

Something so foreign, so unruly and aggressive, it was taking too much control over him. Tim’s eyes were burning, and there weren’t even any tears. His blood pulsed through every vein, strong enough for it to hurt, and loud enough for him to hear it through his bloodied ears.

Tim pushed Steph away and for a moment, he was free. He wasn’t even thinking anymore. He just wanted his hands squeezing the voice out of Jason’s neck.

Babs grabbed him by the cape just as Steph caught up, and again he was on the floor. Still, he screamed, thrashed about because everything within him just yelled for him to finally let it out. He was done being the nice guy, done being the brother they both pushed around, took advantage of, lied to, and picked on because they knew he’d never fight back.

“Tim…” Babs helped Steph holding him down. She looked up at Dick. “What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing we can't sort out!”

“Jesus, Dick,” Jason snorted. “You haven’t said one smart thing all day.”

“Like you're any better, you asswipe.”

“Enough!”

Babs stood right between them, otherwise they’d have lunged for each other even if they had a missile launcher aimed for their heads.

“Let me go. Duke,” Dick said. “I’m not gonna fight any of you-“

“Yeah, three seconds ago you were close to running Jason’s head through a windshield.”

“Just let me go and we’ll all calmly-“

“Calmly?” Duke laughed. “I saw you fall down that building from where I stood. None of you know what calm is.”

Duke’s voice was stern and not at all did he sound like he’d trust him enough for that, no different than Steph’s or even just the look in Cass’s eyes. Because, if anything, other than the utter disgust, disdain, and disappointment, everything before them was something not to easily believe.

Not long after, before anything even happened, before Tim heard that first trace of a large black cape and the heavy soles that would have broken the cement floor underneath if he hadn’t purposely landed so swiftly, with the shadow that wasn’t in fact a shadow, but a suit so terrifying, dark, and so close to invisible, it was the night in a physicality no two people could similarly describe.

Tim knew he’d get here first, before anyone else even turned their heads. Because he stopped with his cries and faced his untimely doom. Face to the ground, quiet and unmoving. Everyone else followed but that was after he’d already appeared.

Not even anyone from the likes of the worst villains had seen the look on Bruce’s face as close to the one he had right then.

Jason:

If he were alone, he’d just have snorted. The look on Grayson and Drake’s face. Couldn’t be drawn.

He’s seen that same frown on Bruce every time he shoots a damn gun, which was every night. He could paint it by memory and he wouldn’t miss a detail. The squinted white of his eyeholes, his lips forlorn and flat. His hands, clenched enough for it to hurt, hidden beneath his cape. Oh, Dad. Did I do that?

These guys just needed some getting used to.

And he shouldn’t be amused at the fact that at least, for once, he wasn’t the only one in trouble this time. Tim looked ashamed. Dick looked like he’d seen a ghost. Dick should have known this, at least. He’s steered up a few times of trouble himself. Nothing like what he’s done, that’s for sure. But he shouldn’t be so stricken. Still, he was, which made it all the more inappropriate if he were to smirk right then.

Damian was right beside him. He wasn’t entertained, or intrigued, what he usually was watching his father tell off his brothers. In fact, he looked bothered. Like they’d just taken so much of his time away from what he’d rather be doing, which apparently was more interesting than this.

Ah. Of course. An out-of-town mission. Just Batman and Robin. They left Babs in charge. Probably why she looked just as horrified as Dick, hands to her side and keeping the slight shake of her palms hidden. It seems she prepared for anything to happen on patrol that night, anything Bruce prepared her for being the boss. What they hadn’t prepared for, apparently, was them.

“Batman, I-“ Babs swallowed. “We have this under control. You can go back to-“

“Let them go.”

Chills down everyone’s wobbly spines at his growling voice proved more terrifying under the filter near his neck. Everyone except Jason, of course. But he can't be so relaxed. Cass was getting suspicious. He just felt her hands tighten even more around his wrists.

But perhaps, he should be afraid. He’s gotten into mounds of trouble, but it was never anything like this.

He snorted again. They hadn’t hurt anybody. It was just them three and their lack of brain. They’ll be fine.

He hoped.

“Bruce, they’re trying to kill each other-“

“They can try.”

Babs, right then, might be the one to kill them right after. Maybe with her bare hands. Maybe with a truck. With a deathly, silent scowl at all of them, she nodded.

Duke was first to let go of Dick, and with that a pat on the back. Dick rubbed the back of his neck, stayed put and didn’t even step away. He was relaxed. Ashamed, but relaxed. He just stretched out his limbs and already everyone was satisfied.

Next, it was Jason. With a reluctant Cass finally letting him go, and the taser, Jason tumbled over to the nearest car hood just to keep himself up. That fucking taser robbed him of his knees. How many volts was that thing?

Finally, Steph swung her legs over from holding down Tim’s body and helped him up. She dusted off his back, apologized under her breath. He probably had a lot to say if it weren’t for the seven other pairs of eyes on him, watching him from letting out so much as a twitch.

Tim didn’t shove her away so he could go back to poking Jason’s eyeballs out. He just stood there and stared at him like Jason and Dick were lucky everyone else was around. Which, he probably was. He wasn’t going to deny that.

The last people to be so afraid of Bruce were the three of them, the perpetrators, the reason for this little reunion. So instead of letting out something so cocky and unapologetic, something so at the borders of causing Bruce to have an aneurysm, not one mouth resisted from being kept shut. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t often expected from such an unusual family.

And Bruce looked at the three of them not with anger, or dismay, or even annoyance.

He looked disappointed.

Which, arguably, makes it a whole lot worse. Hell, even for him. He’s been yelled at since the day he came back and all of a sudden a little fight with his brothers is what brings him to shame.

Bruce was unmoving, so his voice startled and shook.

“All this…” he said. “For her…”

No one spoke. Not even a cricket. Even with the horns and sirens from afar, the bustle they couldn’t care less the only noise there was, it was deafening.

“Don’t you think you’ve disappointed her enough?”

Jason ignored the shattered edges of his helmet that poked on his cheek, ignored the blood it drew or the strain on his arms. Everyone did, perhaps.

“Go back to patrol.”

Batman left, as quickly as he’d come. Robin followed right behind him.

Batgirl turned around, nodded at her team, which was all there was out of her, out of anybody. They could see her fists clench, her eyes down and avoiding the others. The Signal flew out of the scene, Spoiler grappled up to the next rooftop, and Orphan disappeared out of thin air, without a word or even a grunt.

Nightwing, Red Robin, and Red Hood left that junkyard lot, and as the brothers they were, and dreadfully still are, they kept out of each other’s ways for the rest of that quiet night.

-----

What was so different about that night, and the many more nights that followed, was how they no longer had each other to turn to, even more now that it seemed they needed their brothers the most. Jason was, in the worst sense, used to the kind of isolation he was forced into after the matter. Dick had to learn to be alone, but it always had been better to have another’s shoulder to lean on and talk to. Tim, not so much. Not when he almost always turned to Y/N. And if not her, Dick. His older brother. One he once looked up to like a being unreachable, now a traitor he’d scoff at if he dared to show up.

So what they did, and what they were forced to do for several nights, was to deal with the cosmos and the whirlwind of thoughts all by their sorry selves. Dick usually could be found in training, spinning about in the uneven bars set up for him at the manor, have the sweat and the strain in his muscles force out whatever it was that bothered him into some physical outlet, how it often had been for many years as he appreciated himself for the care it brought. For the others, however, it wasn’t so much the same. Tim would spend all hours in the office and wouldn’t so much as nap even when his whole body tortured him to at least stop his back from being crouched so much. And Jason, well, had already drowned himself in booze, even more now that the reasons had faded clearer.

Alone in his apartment, over at the nook by the window where he usually spent the day with a book, now his mess of a hair would be plastered against the cold glass and the many bottles that surround him would block the surfaces of the cushion. It never actually got out of hand. He only ever drank to get rid of that noise blaring into his ear the way it was now, the way it was for all three of them.

And Tim couldn’t turn to that same comfort, or whatever it was that caffeine, stinging eyelids, and an unhealthy staring into a computer screen with an all nighter at the office would bring him. That night after the fight, he couldn’t sleep, even when he tried to. Which led to no one’s knowing, a cup of coffee when the day had risen and he was forced to go on with that said day like nothing happened. That cup would turn to two. Three. Eventually it dawned on him that he’d slept what he should have in a single day in a span of three.

Dick’s training, as it turned out, wasn’t so healthy at all. The strain in his wrists began a little over two hours ago. He’d been at the grounds for quadruple that time. For that day alone. Would it kill him if he didn’t stop? Probably not. Would it almost kill him? Probably. But he went on. Kept his hands busy. Forced himself to feel that exhaustion that should be taking his mind out of everything and not amplify it.

But this was only the beginning of what eventually would be that highway to descent, to some slope with no ladder to climb back up to, no guide for them to reverse and no light at the end that would eventually bring some alternative to the truth. They only had the truth to hold on.

Their brotherhood. One so strained. So complicated. One that took far too much time to build and rebuild. They couldn’t, not even if they wanted to, be apart from this family, deny that they were a part of it. They couldn’t escape each other’s presence no matter how many times they’d change their numbers or block out their trackers or find another city to live in. They couldn’t lose something that had grown too strong for them to fight against. That night, they tried. Or rather, the forces tried. The forces run by their bitter rivalry or the want for the same woman.

It was the fifth night after that fight, when Dick let go of the bars, finally giving his hands that rest too many hours overdue. He wiped his sweat, drank from his bottle, and pulled out his phone. That night, he thought it was enough, that this silence and bitterness and sheer negligence over their bond would eventually break for permanence. He knew that this coping was only just the beginning, and that it will, for everything he was certain about, would it become so much more, something so dark, that it would pull the whole family apart. He didn’t want that. For any of them. So that night, he sent a text to Tim and Jason.

Tim’s first account wasn’t on his brothers, though it had crossed his mind many more times than he would have hoped. His first thought, if anything, was how Y/N would have thought if he let himself fall. It’d be in his rule this time, that he wouldn’t let the caffeine get to him or reach to such extremes he’d never otherwise control. But Y/N wasn’t going to believe that, as nobody should. Hell, he probably shouldn’t place that much faith onto himself at all. Even if he does so much as lose an hour of sleep, one for every night until there wasn’t any hours left, if he allows himself one more cup when he had one just half an hour before, he knew it’d be just the beginning.

So, when he got that text from Dick, he realized it wasn’t worth much the risk.

He hated them both like he’s hated no one else, wanted them to realize just how much of a wreck their doings have imprinted on him and Y/N, how the consequences that followed weren’t nearly what they deserved at all. But if he doesn’t fight that hate, if he doesn’t find peace, it’ll be that darkness for him, that same life he hadn’t learned to control, one where he once lost himself to. and in turn, made him lose Y/N. And he’ll lose her again if he won't listen to that conscience. He texted Dick back and told him to meet him at Pauli’s.

Jason, on the other hand, acted as was expected of him. When he saw that text the first thing his lack of conscience told him was to get another phone and forget it all happened, disappear for another few months, show up when it was convenient, and hope that this all blows over before his escapism backfires.

But he never did get to bring himself to throw out his phone and get a new one, much less delete the text before he’s even seen it. A few days after, he let that daft little voice in him to open the text, allow himself a few seconds just to witness its premise. But he’d read through everything in that split second he allowed himself to. Dick didn’t really have much to say. And what else was to come next other than the few days of tussling and fighting and the many more bottles of booze that were not at all helping with those same voices that just wouldn’t shut up.

Was this all worth it? Was anything worth this at all?

Because those few years it took just to have any sort of a conversation with Dick, much more with Tim, certainly wasn’t a few years of a bond rebuilt that he wanted to go through again.

He loved them. In his own, twisted little way. He loved his brothers and actually would go out his way to save them from whatever horrors he’d been forced to face. That love didn’t have to be from occasionally hanging out in the holidays or spent an hour or two in a bar.

At least, in his conscience, if he were to die one day like he’d realize would happen again, knowing life wasn’t exactly his alone to spend and control, he’d know he did whatever was best for the people he loved.

So, despite Dick and Tim not at all expecting so much as a text back, they still had it in them to wait a few hours. In that dimly lit corner of Pauli’s, the aroma of freshly backed pancakes distracting them from their otherwise bland pickup from the rest of their senses. They waited, not hoping for the best.

Jason went into the diner and saw them, ordered a cup, then took a seat across Tim, with Dick in between.

That silence, the same for everyday for the past five, it was haunting and eerie, disturbing, uncomforting, one they knew they’d all have to settle if they wanted to move on and actually bring some light into whatever it was they’ve caused.

Jason didn’t take off his hoodie. Tim warmed his hands with his cup of hot chocolate. And Dick, knowing he’d have to start, cleared his throat and looked up.

Dick:

Seeing Tim walk through that door was a surprise enough, much more Jason coming along and not even was he three hours late. Fuck. Fuck. What does he even say? Where does he ever start? Should he even start?

Giving in to his impulses certainly was bad an idea. This was, in every way, what he should have expected when he picked up his phone and thought to call his brothers hoping it was the right thing to do. And, perhaps, it was the right thing.

But was he the right person to start it? Lead this conversation to the direction he wanted so they’d get to a better place? The one that pushed his impulses in the first place?

They were all too awfully silent. Tim’s had his second round of hot chocolate. He doesn’t even like hot chocolate that much. And Jason looks like he’s hiding himself from the cops with his hood down and neck craned to the table’s surface. He’s never been in anything more awkward and uncomfortable in his years. This was just humiliating.

But, he was sure, humiliation should be the first thing they’d have to go through. Setting their prides aside, talk with the other’s stories in mind and hope that by the end of this, it’ll at least be a bit better.

So he started, in the most bland, uneventful way, he tells them both.

“Thanks for coming,” Dick said.

Tim momentarily bit onto his lip, and Jason stayed motionless without so much as a nod. At least Tim glanced over at him, even when it was just a second.

“How are you, Tim?”

Tim’s finger traced over the brim of his cup. He’s finished it. Didn’t seem like he wanted to order another one.

“Alright. I guess.”

“Good. Jason?”

God, this was awful. He doesn’t even ask how their broken bones are healing after a life-threatening encounter in patrol. Hopefully this greyness wasn’t too weird, not when it should be the start of something even more difficult to overcome.

Jason’s order of coffee came into the table and it made Tim shift in his seat, leaning to the back to stay further away from its aroma. Jason took a sip. “Fine.”

As quiet as they possibly could. Dick wished he had something to order, even when it was just a piece of pie they’d displayed over at the counter. But he didn’t want to get up or even call a waitress.

He was, in the most obvious sense, ashamed. Ashamed that he wasn’t either of them, which he wished nothing more to be. He wished he was them so he wouldn’t have to be the man who’d hurt Y/N the most, when he was supposed to be who she’d turn for comfort, because they weren’t the man who’d been in love with her for so long, never thinking he’d have a chance. And when he did finally have her, even for a just a moment, when he finally got to kiss her that one time he’d been waiting for so many years, it all broke down and nearly diminished what he took years to build. Their friendship. Something so great yet so fragile, when their love never could be so easily set aside to make way for a friendly bond.

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, and his voice had gone softer. “I’m sorry I started a fight. And for being so angry. That was uncalled for.”

He did want all this to be right with them. Both of them. Two of his brothers he’s learned to love. And with that love comes many sacrifices.

“You don’t have to be sorry for being angry.”

“Would you like more hot cocoa?” The waitress came in with a pitcher. Tim declined, and she left.

He stared at the empty cup and rolled his lips.

“Yeah, I… I kinda do.”

Further into the day, the less people there were in the diner. And with that came more silence. There were half the people in there than when they’d first arrived. Soon enough, they’ll be the only ones left.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Then, without even a word, Dick and Tim turned over to Jason.

They didn’t expect him to apologize, or even say anything for that matter, possibly for the rest of the night.

But Jason shrugged, looked up at both of them in the eye, and he nodded. It was enough for them both to know what he meant.

Jason:

Get this over with. As quick as they possibly could. But he should know by now that this was going to take time. With how difficult it was. This wasn’t going to end any better than when they’d started if they rush through.

Jason took a sip out of his coffee and leaned his arms over on the table. Still, he didn’t take off his hoodie, as if he was going to take off not long from then.

“I don’t exactly know where to start,” Dick said. “But I think we should put this out there now.”

Neither of them looked him in the eye. He and Tim both stared at their cups as if it were any interesting.

“I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong. I’m just saying what I think is best.”

“It’s okay,” Tim said. “Just go on.”

This was harder than when they had to help out the League face Brainiac. And that certainly was something.

“I love Y/N.”

Okay. Wasn’t what he thought Dick would say. But okay.

“Tim loves her, too.”

Shit. Alright. So that’s what this motherfucker thinks he’s doing.

“And I for sure as hell know, that you love her as well, Jason-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason’s voice was deep, controlled, and as monotonous as he forced it to be. Without a flick of a lie or a speck of truth, as they both would have easily picked up if they listened to him hard enough. That is, if it worked. Which it probably hadn’t.

“We don’t know who she wants…” Dick said. “And frankly, I don’t think she does, too. At least for now.”

“It could be any of us.” Tim didn’t take his sight away from the blankness of the white table’s surface.

He can't take this. No. He never should have opened that text. This was a bad idea.

Y/N will choose one of them. Not him. Not when he was the one who fell in love with her far too late, realized just how perfectly imperfect and how she managed to be this little bundle of happiness for him that he never could find in another. Someone whose presence he yearned for on the days when he thought nothing could be okay. He realized all that when too late, when his brothers already cemented their places and have already gone out of their way to win her love. And, on top of all that, he was the one he didn’t have a close friendship as a ground for something to lean onto. They weren’t close. Not like she was with Tim. Not even with Dick.

“This is ridiculous,” Jason stood up from his seat with his cup half finished. “I’m leaving.”

“Jason-“

“Dick, I want no part of this-“

“You can deny it all you want, but what if she chooses you?”

“She won't choose me. That’s the point-“

“Everyone knows that’s just as much of a possibility than everything else. It didn’t even take much time, and already you’ve wooed her. You think we didn’t notice that?”

Jason stopped and faced the counter, away from his brothers.

“Just sit down.”

“Dick-“

“I know this hurts but what if she actually does choose you-“

“I don’t love her.”

“You do. And she might love you back.”

No. Don’t bring his hopes up like this. This fucking-

“And if she does, are you really going to turn her down?”

Jason closed his eyes. He had nothing to say.

“No matter what Tim and I do, if it’s you she wants, then it’s you who’ll make her happy. Do you honestly think I believe you won't at least take that chance?”

Nothing. No voices whispering into his conscience to fuck everything and leave. Nothing that told him what to do, much less what to say.

He just knew that whatever he was, it wasn’t nearly as strong as that one pull that forced him back on his seat.

This shitshow already hurts as it is. What’s a little more?

Tim:

There’s a chance for all of them.

That’s what has always been so hard for him to understand. Never would he have thought it to be true, but it was.

They were both good men, good people, and if he were honest, he’d admit to Y/N being lucky if she were ever to choose one of his brothers in the end. He never, ever wanted to admit that. Not even now.

But for so long, he’s ignored the fact that those choices might be for her happiness, for what she deserves, and that might not always be about Tim. That whatever it was he wouldn’t admit to himself didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Y/N smiles like no other with Dick and no one else understood her like Jason. Even if Tim were her best friend, even if they had together from the very beginning, even if he probably loved her the most. It won't be about that.

So he has to accept all this.

And if it meant her happiness, then that hurt will be a lot easier to deal with.

“He’s right,” he said, and his two older brothers looked up at him.

“I’ve always thought you two… Well, I wish I was in your place. Not always. But, right now I do.”

They were confused to say the least. They didn’t look like they understood. Tim was the one who got to be with her, had years of calling her his love, had her love in return and have her actually show it the same way he did.

But that was just that. He had her. And now he didn’t. Because of him. Because he had her and was stupid enough to let her go, something neither of his brothers would have done if they were him.

And he wanted to laugh at the looks of both their faces. They didn’t have to say anything at all, but he understood. They envied each other in so many other ways, too complicated to map out. Because they’ve all done their own grievances, done so much that they regret.

Which is why this had to happen. Because no one knew what was going to happen next.

“I know it’s hard for all of us…” Dick said. Tim stared out at the window to see the start of the cold evening. “But we’re brothers. I don’t know about you both, but I don’t want this to tear us all apart.”

It already did, he wanted to say.

But it might not be true. It might not be too late. This brotherhood could still be salvaged. And in a way, it might be worth all that hurt.

“The last few weeks have been hard… for all of us… taken its toll on the rest of the family. And we’ve worked too hard on each other. I don’t…” Dick swallowed. “I don’t want to lose Y/N, but I don’t want to lose both of you either.”

It was easier for him to shut his eyes closed.

Neither do I, Tim thought.

“But… Y/N deserves to be happy… We’ve put her through too much.

“And if it means being with the one she loves, one of us, then so be it. We’re done making her decisions. We don’t decide between the three of us. If she wants to choose, then she gets to choose. And we won't have a say in any of it. She decides if it’s one or none of us at all. She deserves this.”

Jason finished his coffee. He no longer sat so stiff.

Tim sat back on his chair and stared out the window.

“And whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. As brothers. We’ll have each other. It’ll be okay. We’ll make it okay.”

That cold night of late November had the first snowdrop of the year. It was light, subtle, and one would have missed it if they weren’t looking out for too long. But they saw it, and never had something so gentle calm what used to be this rageful storm, not since Y/N.

They hadn’t spoken another word in that diner. But for many hours, they stayed.

They continued to wait for many months. They were patient.

October. November. December. January passed.

And on that day of the second week of February, a day Y/N once loved and hated at different times, they put an end to that waiting.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

A/N: I honestly can’t wait for the finale. AHHHH

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kookiepredictions · 3 years

Text

Jungkook Energy Reading

Jungkook is at a major crossroad of his life. Here, he has a choice to make between 2 roads that will potentially lead him to 2 completely different lives. The choices are to either stay the course that he has been following until now, or to level up to a new, challenging but highly rewarding stage. This is a very fun and interesting topic to discuss so I will take my time with this.

To give you a context, Jungkook is a very highly intuitive person since, like, forever. Ever wondered why (or how) out of... (was it 7?)... so many company offers he chose to be with a small company for a reason that might seem like a whim? Ever wondered why his social media posts gain so much traction? Why he trends so often? If you’ve felt like Jungkook is one of those people who just “gets it” that’s because of his natural intuitive abilities. At the cost of being hated on, I’ll say this: he’s not the best singer in the world. Yet, he makes magic with his voice every time. He is an average dancer. Yet, he commands the stage and holds attention like nobody’s business. That’s because Jungkook has always worked with energy without knowing that he did. That’s why a lot of his achievements seem almost effortless. Yes, he works really hard for everything, but so do a lot of other people. Jungkook has this innate quality of (almost) always making the right choices, being at the right place at the right time that, combined with his ability to work hard, creates these massive outcomes. He’s a super powerful clairsentient and although I’m not sure if he consciously he uses his gifts, subconsciously it has often rewarded him, and so far he hasn’t had to really think about it too much, because it’s a naturally-occurring habit for him. But now he has reached a threshold where he has to contemplate things. Needless to say, it’s outside his comfort zone and is making him VERY stressed. He’s at a juncture where he feels this strong pull towards a direction but is afraid to go there because it’s out of his comfort zone and as is the case with that, he is plagued with doubts, confusion, opposing logics, etc— all of which is keeping him stuck and stagnant like a deer caught in headlights.

What is the problem with staying in his comfort zone, you might ask, I mean it has worked for him so far. Generally speaking, there’s no problem. There is never a problem in this world nor is there any good or bad. It all depends on how we see things. That’s why one person’s curse turns out to be another’s blessing, and one’s trash another’s treasure. The problem here is that, Jungkook has done the unthinkable— he has started to have dreams and desires (lol sorry not sorry I like to be dramatic). For a while (maybe a year or so?) Jungkook has been in this place (mentally and emotionally) where he has been rethinking and reinventing his goals, plans etc for his future. He has lived quite a while with a certain idea of how his life is going to go and worked with that vision. But it was getting tiring and draining in a way he didn’t quite understand why, followed by something impactful that happened in his life— has made him question everything. He has been proverbially studying himself in the mirror and rediscovering his true self. This is literally changing everything about his life. His wants are changing, the things that make him happy (or sad) are changing, and he has been think A LOT about how he wants his life to look like from here on. He’s trying to manifest a life that he thinks will not just give him the usual, practical material comforts of life, but also make him happy and fulfilled from a soul-deep space. And as is the case with manifestations, the first thing you gotta do is make sure your mindset is aligned with what you’re desiring. This is where Jungkook is at right now. He knows what he wants, he is willing to put in the work that it takes, and has also been making plans and taking action... but wait a second. Just when he thought that it is time for him to reap the rewards of his actions, things seem to be going south for him. He is facing problems and obstacles in nearly all areas of his life, and this has him utterly confused because he thinks he has done everything right and yet, why is he not seeing results materialize yet? He’s growing tired of this journey and it’s even more confusing because on the one hand, he still feels like he has hope and that there’s a high possibility that things will go his way, yet on the other hand, what IS happening in reality is quite the opposite. He feels like he’s being pulled in 2 opposite directions and both have equally strong reasons to go towards. This is what is known as “the crossroads”.

The reason he is not seeing results is like I said, manifestations are ALL about the mindset. Point blank period. If you hold a pendulum suspending by the string, and just THINK about moving it without moving your hand at all, it starts moving. This is how pendulum readings work. This is a small yet telling exercise to show how our mindset literally controls all our actions. So without the right mindset, actions mean nothing because those actions are coming from a mindset that is not aligned with what you want to manifest. This is what is happening with Jungkook. He is making his plans and taking action, like he has been trying to have a healthy routine, eat clean, exercise, practice his skills, etc but he is doing all of this from an outdated mindset. It’s like building a house of cards over a slanted surface. No matter how carefully you stack the cards, they come crashing down because the foundation is not right. His plans are great, his efforts are sincere, but are based on a very limited mindset. He thinks, well I’ll do this and this and then I’ll do that and that and then... but something goes wrong, some plans backfire, some work related problems come up, financial setbacks happen, and he is back to square one again. Then he feels unmotivated and goes into depressive episodes and eventually picks himself up and tries again but the whole thing happens again. He is now tired and feels he has no fights left and also feels it’s all useless because the Universe seems to be working against him. But that’s not the case. The Universe is simply telling him that no matter how hard he tries (because that’s kinda Jungkook’s mindset right now: if it didn’t work, try harder and harder next time), nothing will come to fruition if the mindset at the base of it all changes. And the same cycle will continue.

This crossroad is an opportunity for him to level up, not at the action point, but at the mindset point. He has to switch from the “work hard, struggle, chase” mindset to the “attract effortlessly” mindset. Now, this is not something new for Jungkook. Like I said, he is a natural intuitive and has actually attracted most of the things in his life quite effortlessly if you consider the fact that he has achieved more at 23 than most people have in their entire lives. The “struggle” is showing up because it is a crossroad. So no matter how competent, accomplished, or karmically good or bad you consider yourself to be, everyone struggles at some point or the other, when it is time to level up. I mentioned earlier that he is a Clairsentient and his comfort zone is to live his life according to his feelings without giving much thought to them and for a very long time, it’s worked out just fine. But now it is time for him to step into the role of a Claircognizant and to give a voice to his feelings. The Universe has been pushing this role at him for a while now, which has manifested in his life into a lot of overthinking, which is the shadow side of claircognizance. It entails a very active mind so at the beginning stages of honing this skill, you tend to struggle with overthinking and your mind sort of being all over the place. Think of your mind as an out-of-control river which floods everything around, but when you train your mind, and make it follow a course, it becomes life-saving. Because in the raw form, any spiritual gift comes with a lot of sharp ends, Jungkook is resisting this gift. He is stressed from all the overthinking and feels lost and out of control. So he tends to go back to his comfort zone and work from his old mindset and keeps facing obstacles. Now you might think, wow, being a Clairsentient is no joke either, so why bother about being a Claircognizant? Like leave the boy alone jeez. But like I always say, the Universe gives us all free will. There is no forcing him. He has made this choice when he started asking for this new, improved, happier life. This is something he is trying to manifest and to do that, he needs to have the right resources. At this point in his life, even being a Clairsentient (which is still awesome) is a limiting existence for him. Jungkook is an old soul. It might be interesting for you to know that he is the oldest soul in all of BTS and he is an older soul than his parents and brother as well! However, his old soul combined with a young mind and the fact that he is the youngest person in both his family and his BTS family, wreaks havoc within him. He often finds himself in situations where he feels deeply and profoundly but cannot express the depth of his feelings externally. This manifests as a throat chakra blockage even though he has a very strong and developed throat chakra (the reason why he is so expressive when he sings and is very facially expressive when dancing and just generally very expressive when he creates social media content from a fun, good mood space). Like I said, it’s a limit. So far it wasn’t as necessary to address this. But as he ages and his life progresses, he misses this skill set. He thinks it’s about his vocabulary, but it really is just about putting a voice to his inner feelings. He could feel it strongly inside when something is right or wrong, but he can rarely tell you why. He’s a good judge but he’s a terrible lawyer lol. And it’s not even telling or convincing others, it’s about telling yourself— KNOWING what you feel and why. Now, in this whole period of dilemma, he is starting to doubt his old gifts as well. He is starting to doubt his feelings and the ability to tell the right from wrong through his feelings— because that’s what energetic stagnation feels like; it feels like degeneration of everything that is, unless you decide to build something new upon the decaying old.

This jump from Clairsentience to Claircognizance can also be likened to the jump from the 3rd eye chakra to the Crown Chakra. And I don’t mean chakras in the sense that exist and govern various activities in our bodies. I mean it in the sense of the journey of consciousness of the various aspects of our existence, from the Root to the Crown. A renowned spiritual teacher had once said that the journey from the Root to the 3rd Eye Chakra has paths and procedures, but the journey from the 3rd Eye to the Crown Chakra has no path, no process, no formula. It is based on faith and faith alone. It’s a blind jump off the cliff, “knowing” that you are safe. Up until the 3rd Eye, you might be connected, but you are still operating within limits, all of which are of course self-imposed. Jungkook is at this point where he is asked by the Universe to step into his limitlessness. I have discussed in his career reading that he is meant to do some really huge things in his lifetime, which is crazy considering he already has done pretty epic things. The phrase “chosen one” always comes to mind when I talk about Jungkook, but I’d like to clarify this phrase first. We generally tend to see this term as something that sets one apart from others, as if they are special and privileged. But know that the Divine never differentiates. Each and every human has been created exactly the same in terms of capabilities. So it all comes down to free will and personal choice of which path each of us chooses. The thing to know about Jungkook is that he is one of the most sincere people on earth— actually as far as I’ve observed THE most sincere. And before Armys comes for me, yes, all of BTS are sincere. But spiritually speaking, Jungkook is still more sincere not just compared to the rest of the members but the general collective as well. He is, at his core, a very purpose-driven person. He is the least matrix-controlled, for those who know these concepts. He can’t do things just for the sake of it. It’s important for him to have meaning and purpose behind everything he does. Sadly though, he has spent the past few years doing exactly the opposite. He has been stuck in a cycle of activities that don’t bring joy to his soul and this has been sucking the life force out of him and he has been feeling more and more drained and has developed escapist tendencies. But it’s not that he has been externally forced to do these things, at least not always. It’s more so a result of lack of consciousness on his part. He didn’t know he was doing these things. He did what he did believing that he was doing the right thing— earning money, paying bills, securing a materially comfortable life— you know, all of the matrix stuff. But like I said, he does not easily fit into the matrix. While a lot of people spend their entire lifetimes plugged into the matrix, Jungkook is the type to sense discomfort very quickly and want to escape. The reason being, as I said earlier, he is an old soul and has lived many lifetimes developing awareness and his spiritual growth. This is why in this lifetime, he is naturally a lot more evolved than most (or all) of the collective. But since we do not remember our past lives and only carry that “growth” in our DNA, it’s something that is inherent to him without him actually knowing about it— until recently. Jungkook has been undergoing his spiritual awakening, and has been developing consciousness bit by bit— breaking out of the matrix so to speak. It’s this reason that he is “chosen” to do what he is about to do. Not because he has been unfairly selected out of many others, but because he has made this choice for himself and been working sincerely over many lifetimes. For this reason, Jungkook tends to have very pure emotions, and by pure I don’t mean non-sexual (because there’s nothing impure about sexual feelings). By pure I mean raw, unadulterated. He has very heightened sensibilities and feels every emotion to their purest essence, gifting him with high Emotional Intelligence. Unfortunately, this is not always a good thing because uncontrolled, he often tends to overwhelm himself with his mixed bag of feelings and this also causes the aforementioned escapism tendencies. And this is one more reason why he should level up. Regulating and organizing his myriad emotions and giving them a shape, a course will help him channel these gifts into fulfilling his dreams and creating big things in life. There are many things he can do, like journaling, writing down his dreams, goals, plans and procedure on paper, create routines based on his goals, etc but I feel like he is past this stage and is probably stuck in the part where he is doing everything and sometimes he has his wins but these wins are not becoming stable, and he is still getting his tower moments from time to time. This should mean one thing— he has reached the last stage of this journey, which like I said, is the journey to the Crown Chakra— the state of complete faith.

When discussing the concept of complete faith, we often use terms like blind faith, unquestioning faith, etc and while these terms are not exactly wrong per se, they can create misunderstandings. The Divine has blessed us with the ability to think, question and judge, not for nothing. Is it possible to have blind faith? Of course, lots of people do. But it’s also POTENTIALLY harmful to have faith in anything without actually having a knowhow of it. It’s not necessary of course, but for those who reach that level of consciousness, it is not just important, but absolutely essential to know the ins and outs and still have faith. I say it is more difficult to have complete faith with your eyes open than to have blind faith. Claircognizance at its best, is just that. While so far, your gut feeling has served you well and led you this close to the Divine, it is now time to employ your mind to catch up with your gut feeling and make sense of it all. While you learnt to open your eyes to the truth up until now, it is time to learn to keep your eyes open without blinking again and defend and embody the truth with your whole existence. This is literally the riskiest gamble. Like I said, jumping off the cliff. And that’s what Jungkook is being asked to do. So far he has been getting clarity about himself, his life and his path forward and treading cautiously with his small efforts and small wins, it is time for him to take the big leap forward. But the question of course is, how? And to where? While the details of this answer are with Jungkook, it has to start with releasing his limiting mindset. Have you ever noticed that whenever we have limited beliefs about something, either money or love or peace, the underlying belief is always that “I am limited”, “I have limited abilities”, “I have limited resources” etc. Meaning, any limits that we place on our external lives are actually limits that we think WE have. Money exists in this world, but I think I am limited in my potential to earn money. Love exists in this world, but I think I am limited in my potential to find love. You get the point. We actually do not think resources are limited, we think they are limited for us. Sometimes “us” means me as an individual, sometimes it means us as the entire population (cue: global warming, world peace, etc). Jungkook right now, is in the prime position to step out of this limited mindset into his unlimited potential. He has been operating from his limited mindset which is why his plans, no matter how well made, are failing. He has these big, beautiful dreams and has created this beautiful, peaceful life in his mind, but his old mindset is not aligned with this abundant life. The Universe has been nudging him in the direction of the mindset that he needs to adopt to align with his manifestations. I have written earlier somewhere that Jungkook thinks quite poorly of himself as a person and has self worth issues. In reality, he is the most sincere person Mother Earth has right now who has been working so hard for so long to reach this level of consciousness, it is safe to say no one else is as worthy as him to get everything that we wants. But by having these beliefs about himself, he is blocking the rewards that are meant to come to him. It’s like he has paid the price in advance, but is not accepting the delivery. Both because of being BTS’ golden youngest, Korea’s national pride, all the sweeping predictions about his future, and also his inner voice speaking to him, he is almost too aware of the great big things he is supposed to achieve, and although he does want them, a part of him is also scared and wants to run and hide and settle for something far less aka stay put in his comfort zone— all because of his limited mindset where he thinks he is not worthy of such things. And if you think you’re not worthy, obviously you’re going to think that it’s going to be an impossible task, which eventually either makes you take all the wrong actions, or not take action at all. This is why, no matter what his goals and plans, and no matter what actions he thinks of taking, he has to start with his mindset first. In fact, while manifesting, if I can tell you to do just one thing, it is to address the limits in your mindset. We’ve heard this many times and it sounds so simple but it really is the most, if not only, important step that matters. If the mindset is aligned with your goal, all actions will effortlessly flow towards that goal.

I feel like Jungkook has reached a level of self awareness and inner self dialogue where he is able to identify where his thoughts and emotions are going. He has definitely gotten a far better grip on his emotions than when I started this page, and contrary to what he thinks, his growth has been swift. It’s just that, we always expect a linear growth but that doesn’t happen with spirituality. And so every time he has a down time, he feels like he is back to square one. More so because Jungkook has such a perfectionistic and high achiever mentality. The reason why he seems to be going in a loop right now is because he has learnt and achieved everything that he has to with his current “limited” mindset. Hi future goals require him to grow out of that, not because his goals are something huge and difficult to achieve (because literally small and big are subjective both to humans and to the Universe) but because having a limitless mindset simply means to believe that I am worthy of achieving anything and everything I desire— without conditions. This is the mindset that Jungkook needs to work on adopting right now and everything else will smoothly flow from there. He needs to utilize the power of his mind— awareness, reasoning and self dialogue— to identify wherever he limits himself from believing his worthiness to achieve what he wants to have, and continue this practice until this new “I can f***ing have anything that I want” mindset is his default. Does it worry you that Jungkook will become an egotistical prick after that? Don’t worry, his soul has done enough work in the past to be grounded and humble through it all. This mindset is different from the ego-driven power-hungry mindset. Why? Because this power is the Source power. When we settle into our Crown Chakra consciousness aka Divine consciousness, we plug ourselves into the Source’s limitless creative power. The difference between ego-driven power and Source power is that while the former separates the individual from others, Source power recognizes the individual’s power as connected to and drawing from the Cosmos and therefore one we must give back to. It’s this constant cycle of giving and receiving in the Universe that makes Source power limitless, while the ego’s idea of power is one-sided and therefore finite.

Jungkook is kind of stuck in a place where, because he sees himself as limited, he looks to others to guide him, assure him, and provide him with the knowledge and direction that he needs. And that is because he has been disconnected from Source— not literally, but consciousness-wise. So far it wasn’t too bad, but now it is time for him to let go of the need for mediators and plug himself directly to the Source, i.e. work on his Crown Chakra. And as I mentioned earlier, it is as simple as just using your conscious mind to tell yourself, or more accurately, remind yourself, of your worth and your limitlessness. Jungkook feels like he needs someone to guide him, but he has forgotten that he has been prepared for the exact same task that he looks to another to do. Now this has a connection to his Twin Flame journey because his twin is at the same threshold, ready to level up to the same stage. The only slight difference is that she has already made her choice to level up to the new stage of limitless consciousness. And now it is up to Jungkook to make his. Do you what that means? It means a Union is on the horizon! After a long period of back and forth— one of them goes through a stage first then the other follows, and vice versa— they are finally going to be on the same page energetically, if Jungkook makes the choice. This is significant because Jungkook has been thinking that Union was something that was out of his control and he had nothing to do but to sit and wait, but all the while, it was a choice he had to make. Now, of course, this choice is not as simple as saying Yes or No. It’s a choice of consciousness— a consistent way of life that will, over time, upgrade and align their mindsets so they are both at the exact same stage. As twinflames, Jungkook and his DF are like the same person living in 2 different, alternate universes, with completely different lifestyles, work situations and challenges and the way they process these situations and challenges are similar, but not on the same page at the same time. They are soully same, yet because of their mortal forms being born and being raised in different environments, their ego-bodies have retained conditioning that make them different from each other in many ways, but as they shed their ego programming and connect more and more with their soul and with Source, they will be on the exact same page. This is when Union will occur. When they truly become one person in heart and mind. But this stage right now (i.e. before Union) is also the most challenging because this is where Separation truly happens. Physical separation is the least important aspect of the TF separation. This is where they are both on their own. They must individually find their faith aka go back to the Source, because without their connection to the Source, there is no TF connection; it becomes just another earthly connection riddled with alternating bouts of joy and sorrow, peace and pain. Usually in this journey, one twin is a more advanced journeyer than the other, who first “activates” the other i.e. leads them to their consciousness and guides them, usually energetically where when one twin crosses a stage, the other is literally pulled into that stage for them to cross. It’s like only one twin gets to make the choice and the other has no choice but to follow suit. This is also the reason why one twin feels more helpless and out of control. They are literally being yanked around by their twin’s energetic choices lol. But at this juncture, the guide twin has to leave the other twin’s hand, not because they don’t want to hold on, but because they can’t— they have nothing more to offer. This is where both twins get to make their choices individually. This stage is new for both of them and therefore they must individually cross this stage and meet at the other side. This is the period of ultimate spiritual growth, the after effect of which is blissful togetherness. But possible only if both twins make their choice to move forward.

I’ll end this post with a message from Jungkook’s DF:

Jeongguk,

I hope you’re holding up okay, partner, cuz I know I’m getting my ass kicked. Did you absolutely hate this journey? Because I didn’t. Just like you, I didn’t know what I signed up for either. I made a simple wish and this road has been bumpy but it has also had the most incredible views along the way. The way I have grown over these recent times compared to my whole entire life is crazy! I love who I have become and who I continue to become. And I believe you had a part to play in this. I know you don’t believe that so much. I know you battle with your own doubts, fears and insecurities, just like I battle with mine. You still measure your importance with how much you do for others. But maybe someday I can tell you how much you have done for me simply my existing as who you are. Because who you are will determine what you will always do, not just once or twice. And you have grown so much too! I have sensed that often. But unless we learn to recognize our growth, we don’t see it. But since I had VIP seating lol I got to watch you grow. Sometimes you resisted, sometimes you fought, sometimes you hoped, sometimes you held on to the faith when I was ready to give up, sometimes you were hurtful and challenged me to find within myself new depths of love and understanding. You made me cry, you made me laugh, you made me angry, you made me blush. But you never left. And I didn’t leave either. We tried though. Both of us. And failed. Repeatedly. It’s been frustrating and funny. How we thought we could get away and the Divine kept guiding us back to each other. You know, I think the problem is that we’re both helplessly curious idiots. Always wanting to know more, always wanting to move ahead. Obstacles never had a chance with us. We were always the introspective types, you and I, always looking to solve our problems, hungry for growth. As they say, careful what you wish for.

I am aware of your expectations of me, always was. But I had to hold back. I couldn’t do anything that I wasn’t fully ready to do. Right or wrong, I had to do as I felt guided to do— it’s my sovereign right. I guess because deep down I knew that you would understand. Of all people, you would understand. And I was right, you did. You threw hands and made a mess often lol but you still did understand and patiently stuck around each time. I know it seems like I’ve been running further and further away from you, but I have actually been getting closer to you. Spiritually. I guess soon it’s going to be visible as well. Now there is this stage. It feels like a strange place to be in right now. Good strange. I know you are scared and doubtful and expect me to assure you that everything will be alright. How can I? I am scared and doubtful too. Every day, I am in these juxtaposed energies of faith and doubt, sorting through them like... one moment I am super believing, another moment I’m all nope can’t do.

I know you want me to say that I love you and that I always will, and to promise that if we take this journey, I will be there waiting for you. And I want to. I really REALLY want to make these promises to you. But in the past I have been in situations where these promises were made and then conveniently forgotten later. I’m trying not to let my past control my present or future but I have also learnt that words can be forgotten, but intentions are forever. And that is what I want to say to you: I have the intention. I intend to make this work. When the time is right, I intend to give this my best shot. Tbh, I feel like I have been giving this my best shot for a while now, but maybe we don’t agree on that lol. And I also want to tell you that I’ve never felt about anyone else what I feel about you and I don’t think anyone else can ever take your place in my life. What that means exactly I don’t know yet.

The reason why I tell you neither what to do nor what not to do is because I don’t want to control your life. I know you me to show some ownership on you, and you on me, but believe me, you’ll hate it there. I’ve been there suffocating and it’s the most beautiful feeling to make your own mistakes, learn your own lessons, and watch yourself become your own artwork masterpiece and I don’t want to take away that experience from you. This is not my apathy. This is my gift to you. Also, yes I’m a pretty generous and just generally amazing person lol but do you really think I write pages after pages for just anyone and for no reason? Put two and two together silly.

You doubt your worth so much and since I do that too, I know how that works and won’t hold that against you, but it seems like now you have no choice but to see your worth. You must know, that I’m leaving you alone only because I’m confident you’ll find your own way. I’ll admit, I haven’t always been confident in you. Maybe I will falter again. But don’t you see, that’s the point? I will never be fully confident in you until you are confident in yourself. The more you doubt, the more I doubt too. But I’ve been observing you for a long time now and it’s just so hard to not trust you. Even with all the doubts and apprehensions constantly attacking me from all directions, I keep going back to you. I really hope my gut feeling about you is right or I’ve just made a big booboo lol. The funny thing is, I don’t care as much now. It’s almost like, fine, if anything, this will go down in my history as a wonderful, fun mistake and I don’t think I will ever regret it because in this moment I’m doing what I want to do— either it leads to a reward or a lesson, both are welcome. I have never been THIS vulnerable in my life like I hear myself say these things and I sound so crazy and stupid lol I’m so not my sassy and smartassy self right now.

As I was saying, I really do believe you’ll find your way. I don’t even know what that way is, or what your problems are, but I know you will solve them all. I’ll just be here, solving mine. How do I know for sure we can solve all problems? Because each one of the 7 billion people can. The only reason they don’t is that they don’t have a strong enough reason to push themselves to do that. Do we have a strong enough reason? How much do our dreams mean to us? For me, I have had this picture painted of this perfect life for a while. And yes, it has you in it. Very prominently. In my mind, it’s this beautifully balanced, harmonious, vibrant relationship with a forever after. And I don’t want to ruin that picture for short term hedonism. So I really believe, if our reason is strong enough, if this means that much to us, no obstacle can limit us from getting what we want. You’re not the only one who goes after what he wants and never gives up. I’m somewhat of that breed too. It’s just that this has clearly been a journey and it has brought some wild surprises along the way. I’ve struggled but now I’m learning to accept anything that comes with it. If the road leads me to my destination I don’t care how bumpy it is. It’s literally up to you right now. And I promise, it’s not even that difficult when you let go of resistance. All you have to do is consistently believe that you have limitless power to achieve anything you want and to create your reality the way you want it. I know it’s been a struggle and it feels like just the opposite, but it’s been that way because believe it or not, YOU have had these limiting beliefs about yourself and what you can create. I also know it’s been a long road and you’re tired, but it’s safe to drop the defences now. You might feel like certain situations or certain people are out of your control and how could you ever have things work your way, but it’s all in the mindset. The moment you reset your mindset and stick with it, you will see your reality change. In any situation, do not focus on the external events— they are simply the results of your previous mindset. Rather, ask yourself, what limiting thoughts and beliefs you have in your mindset right now and proceed to change them. I promise to you, people and situations will change to suit your needs, without ever having to deal with anyone. All this WILL happen, so don’t give up until they do. Twinflame, soulmate, karmic, friends, partners, colleagues— everyone will adjust according to your needs when YOU step into your limitlessness. Remember, it’s not just you who are tied to your karmics, they are tied to you too. An attachment exists from both sides. You don’t have to worry over the other person severing the tie, it’s enough if you let go of your end. Ask yourself, what are the common energies I share with my karmic? Identify these energies, heal the underlying trauma and ascend from them. This automatically ends your karmic contract and your karmic is free from you as well, no matter what their status is. The reason your karmics exist is because deep in your mindset you still believe that that’s your place and that’s what you’re worthy of— it’s part of the comfort zone you’re still stuck in.

I wish you well, my favorite human, I really hope I find you at the end of this journey. I want everything that you want. There are so many shared dreams and goals that we have— I will tell you all about my dreams one day. Until then I need to live some of these on my own, go on a little solo adventure, while I let you go on yours. And when it’s over and we’re ready (and no we’re not ready right now no matter how much you try to convince me lol) I promise I will see you again. When and how, I have no idea, but I’m happy to leave that to however the Divine guides us. I promise I’ll never forget you because I literally can’t. Love you!

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katesmemes · 4 years

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feel free to change any pronouns, etc. || may contain some nsfw!

“You’re the only one I can rely on to stay strong right now.”

“We got fire and shelter-- that’s a start.”

“I never thought I’d be so pleased to see your face.”

“Knew a feller-- got bit by a dog; died an hour later.”

“Thanks for coming for me.”

“Y’know, we’re gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar.”

“So, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death, ain’t good enough for you?”

“You always said revenge is a luxury we can’t afford.”

“You know I got your back.”

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“You’re always one with the jokes, aren’t you?”

“I just don’t want anymore people to die.”

“Sounds like he has more than enough to share.”

“Get to work, but stay out of trouble.”

“I’ve seen shit with more common sense than you!”

“You’re my favorite parasite. No...ringworm’s my favorite parasite-- you’re my second favorite parasite. I lied... Ringworm, then rats with the plague, then you.”

“I’ve got an unfortunate face.”

“You won the fight already-- surely that’s enough?”

"I could do with a break from this place.”

“I fear you don’t know how to help anyone excepting yourself.”

“Only the feeblest of men take jobs in the government.”

“Please send him my worst regards.”

“[Name] wouldn’t know sadness if it died in is bed.”

“It’s about time that you started to earn you keep.”

“Why do you have to speak so much? It’s...incessant.”

“Looks like I’ve turned into the goddamn errand boy.”

“You ain’t as tough and dense as all that.”

“That’s not how you are.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“How did someone even come up with them words?”

“I ain’t chopping vegetables for a living.”

“I’m sorry, [Name], was there insufficient feathers in your pillow?”

“I ain’t afraid of dying.”

“I ain’t here to rob you, though that seems easy enough.”

“Think of it as payback for [Name].”

“I ain’t in the revenge business, [Name].”

“I swear he talked the whole way and never actually said a damn thing.”

“He somehow manages to be both lucky and unlucky at the same time.”

“You should’ve taken the money.”

“You know me; I like to make friends in low places.”

“You mess up-- it’s just one of them things; I mess up-- I’m the prize idiot.”

“You are a man of profoundly limited intelligence.”

“Well, of course, it’s probably a trap...but what’ve we got to lose finding out?”

“Okay, just keep calm until I give you a reason not to.”

“Oh, my dear and trusted friend, with you watching over, I would walk into hell itself.”

“I dream too big; I care too much-- that’s my problem.”

“All you do is complain when things don’t work out-- except when it’s your goddamn fault.”

“If you ain’t gonna be civilized about this...”

“I don’t expect you to understand this, but I have never been more proud of you than I am right now.”

“This place ain’t no such thing as civilized-- It’s man so in love with greed he has forgotten himself and found only appetites.”

“He makes my skin crawl... Some swarthy cocksucker... You know what I mean, friend?”

“If you’re a girl without means in this world, life is very scary...”

“She didn’t love enough, I guess... Or I wouldn’t change.”

“In these books, life seems so simple, but, in reality, I... I can’t make head nor tail of it.”

“Oh, I see that kindly face of yours and I know, for the right inducements, a gentleman such as yourself could be mighty kind.”

“Oh now, you keep saying that, but you don’t mean nothing by it.”

“She is driven by forces I scarcely understand...”

“That’s what love has done to her, I guess.”

“We each got....fifteen dollars. Oh, and a quarter... Don’t forget the quarter.”

“If there’s a problem, it’s for me.”

“I thought you wasn’t getting involved.”

“We are gonna be harvesting mangoes in Tahiti.”

“You better be right about this one...”

“Have some goddamn faith.”

“I am bending over backwards to make a future for us!”

“There simply isn’t a reality in which we do nothing, and get everything.”

“I think he’ll be okay-- if he don’t get a fever.”

“Well, he definitely lacks a certain charm.”

“Don’t you ever leave love aside, [Name], it’s all we got.”

“I possess things you will never understand.”

“Every plan is a good plan if we execute it properly.”

“I’m just trying to stay real about all this.”

“That is one of the most beautiful acts I ever saw.”

“An insect bit you or something? ‘Cause you gone, friend.”

“I will do whatever it takes for us to survive.”

“I still ain’t sure what you’re saying, [Name].”

“This feller is really beginning to try my patience.”

“Nobody knows who you are-- not even your goddamn father.”

“We’ll find each other eventually. We always do.”

“My fair heart jumps for joy when I set eyes on you, [Name].”

“You can see why he has such a high opinion of himself.”

“I’ll wipe that goddamn smirk clean off your face.”

“You could’ve cleaned yourself up a bit.”

“I didn’t realize I was here to impress anyone.”

“Strangeness, I can handle-- It’s the normal business of life I can’t seem to get a grip on.”

“You’re an idiot, but you’ll always be my friend.”

“Well, of course I’m your friend, but...you ain’t always fair with me.”

“If I was fair with you and a good person, I’d have had you hanged a long time ago.”

“So, shut up, and act like a gentleman... or at least try to for once in your brainless life.”

“It’s sort of beautiful, in a gaudy, and tasteless way...”

“Quite ridiculous, but somehow very amusing.”

“You can see why folks don’t wanna come around here-- Ain’t exactly a welcoming place.”

“I don’t owe you nothing!”

“I loved you, you goddamn bastard!”

"She knew the rules, [Name]-- What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I wanted to shoot her?!”

“I don’t know anymore... I’m not sure if I even care.”

“Well, the best thing is rest and getting somewhere warm and dry, and taking it easy.”

“We can’t change what’s done; we can only move on.”

“He didn’t have a choice, He was good and he did good.”

“I understand if you don’t wanna help me, but... but... I think of you often.”

“He’s quite the character; I think you’ll like him.”

“Y’know... I’m impressed. You’ve really stepped things up, ain’t you?”

“Hey, we didn’t know if you was even coming back.”

“You have a real habit of stating the obvious, [Name].”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I only left you an hour ago. You can’t stay out of trouble for one goddamn hour?”

“You got that poor bastard killed for his troubles-- I kind of liked him!”

“Insist all you like; ain’t happening!”

“Well, I ain’t the crying sort, but, I’m real grateful!”

“This better not be no stupid revenge mission, [Name].”

“It’s just a simple social call.”

“So, what are we gonna say to him, that needs to be said?”

“This ain’t making a lot of sense, [Name].”

“Business doesn’t give two figs about feelings, sir. Not two figs.”

“Your impudence will be our undoing, sir.”

“Don’t play dumb and superior at the same time, [Name].”

“Feels like the whole world’s closing in on us.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“I think it’s a real bad idea.”

“See, I’m starting to think that you’ve gone soft, [Name].”

“So I was thinking, you go play dead, and I’ll take care of ‘em.”

“You play dead and I’ll cover you.”

“Nice shooting back there!”

“I could use a drink after that.”

“Listen... I know we ain’t always seen eye to eye, and...you find me irritating and a threat...and I like to annoy you...but right now I need better from you, [Name].”

“I ain’t the bad guy you think I am, [Name].”

“There’s a big picture here, [Name].”

“I feel like you should take your woman and child and get lost.”

“it’s that or...well, I don’t see no way outta this.”

“When the time comes, you gotta run and don’t look back.”

“That just ain’t how I wanna die.”

“You rally think that’ll draw attention away from us?”

“Y’know, all that ever mattered to me was loyalty. It was all I knew-- It was all I ever believed in.”

“I’m seeing things a lot more clearly now.”

“I wish things were different... But it weren’t us who changed.”

“You don’t seem yourself somehow...”

“Surely this can be done without killing anyone?”

“We shoot fellers as need shooting, we save fellers as need saving, feed them as need feeding.”

“It’s been quite a while since we helped anyone, but ourselves, and even you know that.”

“I have a plan, you just have to trust me.”

“This is exactly the distraction we need.”

“Hey. Hey-- you know I wasn’t gonna let it come to that.”

“I guess I don’t know what I know no more.”

“May God, in his infinite wisdom, have mercy upon your soul.”

“My whole life, I have tried to fight change.”

“Y’know, you and me... We’re more ghosts than people.”

“I miss him every day... every moment.”

“They turned me into a monster.”

“You’re the best man I’ve known.”

“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”

“Sometimes the correct path, the bravest path...is the least obvious, and also the gentlest.”

“My whole life I have tried to bring peace.”

We can talk if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“I should not have let you do this for me.”

“I hope you can find peace within yourself.”

“He’s a man who, not so long ago, I would have found weak and pathetic. Now I see as wise and thoughtful, and sensible.”

“We must act with due caution.”

“A failed man is often the most dangerous.”

“Hey, show some goddamn respect!”

“You’ll know when I ain’t showing respect.”

“I had a plan... I still have a plan!”

“I am tired of this constant dissent, long tired of it.”

“I’m gonna try and save him.”

“You’re quite the hero, ain’t you?”

“Come on... Don’t doubt me no more.”

“You saved my life more than once... To give mine for yours...it’s as it should be.”

“Everything is coming together exactly as I planned.”

“I’m afraid I have to insist.”

“Of course, pal... Whatever you think is best.”

“He insists upon it... Insists...”

“Don’t talk to me you son of a bitch.”

“Do it my way, honey. It’s for the best.”

“I’m gonna get you outta this bullshit if it’s the last goddamn thing I do.”

“It would mean a lot to me... Please...”

“You don’t know how much I’ve longed to do this.”

“All there is-- winning...and losing...”

“In the end, despite my best efforts to the contrary, it turns out I’ve won.”

“I gave you all I had... I did.”

“I tried in the end... I did.”

“I ain’t too proud to do nothing.”

“I love you. Don’t you forget that-- not ever now.”

“You stop acting like a goddamn storybook hero, will you?”

“I guess I was dreaming a little. At least give me that.”

“I did what I had to do to protect you.”

“I thought you was dead.”

“You know, speaking in monosyllables don’t make you seem interesting, it makes you seem stupid.”

“I never thought she was a smart woman, but this makes me think maybe I was wrong.”

“No, you’re stuck with me; seems I’m stuck with you.”

“Let’s just hope things don’t turn out like last time.”

“Now, you used to be decent company, but now, you’re worse than a snake with a toothache.”

“Get some self-respect you miserable sack of shit.”

“I just need a bit of peace and quiet from your incessant yapping.”

“That’s kind-- unlikely to be taken up, but kind.”

“You always did have that fine way with words.”

“Do you wish I was more like you?”

“There’s a lot of ugly in this world, but there sure as hell is a lot of beauty.”

“Ain’t you just the leading authority on everything?”

“Sometimes, you just don’t know how things are gonna turn out.”

“I think I’m gonna ask her to, uh, marry me.”

“I never took you for a romantic.”

“It’s been ages since we spent any time together.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you ain’t that much to look at.”

“Why you being so courteous?”

“You’re acting kinda...funny.”

“You know, you’re not very nice to me.”

“Oh, I’m nicer than you deserve.”

“What’re you doing with that arm?”

“I thought you might be cold.”

“You’re acting real strange...”

“Will you marry me?”

“Shut up, you silly man, and kiss me!”

“You’re bleeding pretty bad.”

“I don’t like it...I love it. It’s home.”

#ask meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #rp starters #rp sentence starters #rp starter sentences #sentence starters #starter sentences #roleplay starters #red dead redemption sentence starters #red dead redemption starter sentences #rdr sentence starters #rdr starter sentences #video game sentence starters

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hatakeliz · 3 years

Text

I don’t understand how some people still underplay or even deny the importance of the forehead poke as a profoundly meaningful gesture of love for Sasuke.

Yes, it used to be a source of frustration, given the context when Itachi used to do it. But, as he found out the truth about his brother, he also understood why he had to push him away so many times and it changed the nature of the gesture for Sasuke.

At the time, Itachi was just his older brother, but in reality he had the weight of the village - and the clan - on his shoulders.

At. All. Times.

As much as Itachi loved him and wanted to just be able to spend time with his brother as a normal kid would, he couldn’t afford to do that. He had a great number of responsibilities and his ultimate goal (peace) clashed with his ability to personally experience and indulge in love and affection. In the end, he’d always put the greater good in front of his own, which sometimes meant those closest to him would suffer with his absence and miss him.

Later in life (especially when he had to leave Sarada, I believe), Sasuke understood how much abnegation and unconditional love was truly behind his brother’s gesture.

It was not that Itachi didn’t care about him, it was the complete opposite: he cared so much that his will to create a better world for him was greater than everything else. He wanted Sasuke to live the safe, peaceful life he didn’t have, even if it meant he had to often push him away, leaving him frustrated with just an apology and a promisse.

The fact that Sasuke used this gesture on Sakura when he left the village after the war speaks fucking volumes about his character growth and their connection, and I don’t understand how people can overlook that.

He was leaving his friends behind once again, this time because he had to sort himself and his place in the world out before he could even think about getting further involved. Sasuke isn’t and never was heartless, no matter how much he tried to be. When he realised how sad Sakura was to see him leave once again, he recognised the feeling. She wanted him to stay. To some extent, a part of him deep down wanted that too but couldn’t, because of a greater good, so he left her with a promise and the most symbolic gesture of love and selflessness he could think of. “I’ll see you when I’m back”, a promise he himself hoped he someday could fulfil.

This is just beautiful. This is growth! It further confirmed that Sasuke, the real Sasuke, was back and ready to make his peace with all the trauma and pain he had to endure. That gesture (and the love it meant) was no longer so painful to think about. In that moment, it became a way for Sasuke to communicate his own feelings. He wasn’t used to it, so he used the best reference he could remember to show Sakura that this time he wasn’t leaving her behind like he had done before. On the contrary, he was leaving so he could, someday, hope to come back. He did that to show Sakura that he cared about her and cherished the love she had for him, even if he had to leave and couldn’t quite return them yet.

Said all this, the moment the forehead poke made the greatest impact on me, personally, was in the Gaiden. Sasuke had to leave once again on a mission that would keep him away for years, leaving his family behind. The fact that some readers take this lightly like “he didn’t care, it was actually a relieve for Sasuke” makes me want to punch a damn wall. Are we even talking about the same character? It must have been one of the most difficult things he ever had to do. After being alone for so many years, believing that things such as bonds and family were out of his reach, he finally had it all. He had a home to come back to after his missions, one that wasn’t empty and cold. He had Sakura who gave him a baby girl who adored him and called him “papa”.

And then he had to leave. Again.

For the greater good. Again.

For the sake of the village, sure. But most importantly (I believe) for the sake of his family’s safety, so his daughter could have a bright future ahead of her and a restored honor to her clan. Even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness and that of those closest to him, he’d do it, precisely because of how unconditional and selfless his love for them is. Just like Itachi, Sasuke took the risk of being misunderstood by those he loved so that he could ensure their safety. And, just like his younger self was frustrated by his older brother’s absence, Sarada also grew up resenting her father's apparent neglect and indiferente. But, just like Sakura said, she would understand when she met him. And she did, to a certain degree at least. She doesn’t know everything yet. She doesn’t know scarred her father’s soul truly is, how dangerous his missions always are and how hard it was for him to leave them behind.

I think a lot of people don’t stop to realise that Sarada was the only person Sasuke was shown hugging in the whole series, apart from Itachi. That manga panel and the animation made me cry like a baby because I felt how Sasuke’s heart must have ached at that moment, seeing his daughter cry because of him leaving again. The way he immediately took a step forward and comforted her tore my heart into pieces. The conclusion to that scene was Sasuke once again resorting to the other gesture of love he knew, poking her forehead with his fingers. Just like Sakura years before, Sarada felt the promise and the deep love behind that forehead poke. Her father cared and he wasn’t leaving them, he was leaving so he could protect them the best way he possibly could.

That forehead poke is hope, a promise for better days motivated by the most unconditional love. It’s something started by Itachi that Sasuke carried in his heart for years and is now able to pass down to those he loves.

Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that there are fans who can’t see this. Also, I’m sorry for those fans because this truly is beautiful.

#sasusaku #sasusakusara #uchiha #sasuke uchiha #sarada uchiha #sakura uchiha #uchiha family

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 3 years

Text

BBC Merlin 4x05: His Father’s Son

Here's a round-up of my main observations from BBC Merlin's "His Father's Son" (4x05).

1- MERLIN AS A KNIGHT

I have to admit that Merlin as a sorcerer and trusted adviser appeals to me the most, but I did write a lengthy post analysing how Arthur had turned Merlin into an excellent fighter. This refutes claims that Merlin gave more to Arthur than he received in return.

At the beginning of 4x05, we see Merlin selected to play a new role: that of knight. How did this come about? Arthur Pendragon is best known for his skills as a warrior, but he deserves more credit for his military tactics. These destroy the popular yet false idea that he is unintelligent. More on the latter in a forthcoming post.

One of Arthur’s favourite tactics is using decoys. Previous examples of him using decoys include: The Castle of Fyrien (3x07), when Arthur used Merlin as a decoy to entrap Cenred’s soldiers; Aithusa (4x04), when Arthur used himself as a decoy to get Sir Percival to safety; Arthur’s Bane Part 2 (5x02), when Arthur uses Merlin as a decoy to enrage the slave traders before they escape-- by far my favourite example.

All things considered, I don’t think it takes long for Arthur to choose Merlin. Furthermore, this decision may have taken place before they reached their selected location, as Agravaine later mentions a previous attack by Caerleon on the border. This choice demonstrates that Arthur has higher confidence in Merlin's abilities than he does of in his knights-- else he would have chosen them. We must conclude that Merlin is Arthur's best fighter, though at first glance, we wonder why an unarmed man follows trained knights into battle.

Merlin is sharp, fast, has high stamina, and is incredibly resourceful. Most of all, however, he is incredibly brave. In fact, when rewatching 1x02, I was surprised to see Arthur acknowledge that Merlin was "braver than you look." This despite Arthur’s frustration that Merlin did not try hard enough during practice ("Come on, Merlin: I've got a tournament to win!").

What’s more, in that same episode, Merlin complains about his first day, but later on, we see his fascination wth the ongoing tournament. Then he admitted to Gaius that working for Arthur (in the context of said tournament) "isn't totally horrible all the time." It took one day for him to change his opinion!

Sure, Merlin would continue to treat the fighting as pointless violence, and Arthur as having nothing more in his head than a desire to knock "the seven bells" out of other people (3x04). However, even in 1x02, when he applauds Arthur's fighting, his actions tell a different story. We associate this habit of liking something whilst pretending otherwise to Arthur, yet Merlin has it as well.

As I have said before, Merlin and Arthur have profound differences, yet are profoundly alike.

2- MERLIN AS A SERVANT

It comes as no surprise that Merlin would return to serving after the beginning of 4x05. However, what that change represents sets the tone for this entire episode: Arthur dismissing Merlin's counsel repeatedly in favour of listening to his uncle.

When Arthur says, "so please, stick to what you do know," you have to wonder whether Merlin remembered being entrusted with the role of knight. Now, Arthur puts him back in his place.

Here's another example: "My conscience is clean, which is more than I can say for my room, so just... do your job, will you?" Yet just yesterday, that job involved Merlin risking his life against enemy forces by dressing as a knight.

By the way, you can tell that Arthur doesn’t believe his own excuses, because he keeps using the passive voice to justify killing Caerleon: “...a show of strength was necessary… an example had to be made… My conscience is clean…”

Merlin’s face after Arthur claims he doesn’t need anyone is self-explanatory.

3- NEW THOUGHTS ON ANNIS

Is Queen Annis a good person? Actually, no.

First of all, she knows and approves of her husband invading foreign kingdoms to plunder their wealth. Such invasions naturally cost not only the lives of Arthur's men, but her own, too.

Furthermore, despite accepting Arthur's offer of a fight by single combat, she is prepared to cheat by enlisting Morgana's power. Perhaps if Arthur had died, too, she would have felt some remorse. Yet she still takes a monumental risk with Arthur's life in blatant violation of the knight's code. One has to wonder about her reaction had Camelot plotted against her armies in the same way.

Then we have Annis calmly ordering Merlin’s execution without giving him a chance to explain himself. The lack of emotion in her voice suggests she has done this before.

Speaking of cruelty, Annis’ champion seems to enjoy inflicting pain on his enemies, yet the Queen claims that he “served my husband well.” I dread to think what she means by “served”.

I will also note that Queen Annis disdains magic, referring to Morgana as “witch”. As I have said before, Uther did not begin prejudice against magic; sorcerers were disliked and feared elsewhere, too, including by those who disliked Uther. Many sorcerers caused this prejudice by engaging in manipulative, violent, and wicked deeds.

Examples include High Priestesses using Fomorrohs to enslave people’s minds (4x06); Cornelius Sigan using his power to change day into night and acquire vast wealth (2x01); sorcerers using special blades to murder people (3x04), and so on.

None of this takes away from Annis’ complexity, nor does it undermine her immense humility when she accepts defeat and withdraws from Camelot. After all, much of Annis' rage and desire for vengeance stems from intense grief over Caerleon's death, so we can assume her marriage was a happy one.

Forgiving the man who destroyed her domestic happiness (as well as leaving her people without a king) shows tremendous nobility on Annis’ part. I think Arthur sees that, for he is always humble and respectful before her.

4- LONG LIVE THE KING

Few people respect Arthur more than Merlin. So when he doesn’t join in with cries of “Long live the king!”, you know something is wrong.

5- CONTROL YOUR FEAR

Episode 4x03 has a hilarious scene where a drunk Arthur claims he isn’t even a little bit scared, because, “I’m a warrior. You learn to control your fear.” Then Arthur walks smack bang into a pillar. Never fails to make me laugh. Minus the drunkenness, Arthur was telling the truth about controlling his fear.

You can see this at least twice in this episode: first, when he sees how many men Annis has brought against Camelot, and secondly, when he sees the size of Annis’ giant. In both cases, Arthur harnesses his fear into determination, which is another sign of a great warrior.

Next up, we have a fascinating scene where Arthur watches his men joking by the fire. It's a great way of showing Arthur’s care for these men, as well as his guilt that impending war will end their lives. In a sense, Arthur has to control his fear yet again.

6- TRUST IN MERLIN

After the above scene, Gwaine asks Merlin if Arthur is all right, and the fact that Merlin can describe Arthur's feelings without even questioning the King once again shows the unique nature of their friendship. Merlin sees Arthur's expression, and he just knows. And Gwaine knows that, hence why he does not question the King himself.

Listen to the silence after Merlin's response. Nobody questions Merlin's judgement: they just reflect. Given the way Arthur has repeatedly dismissed Merlin's advance in favour of his uncle, I think he could have learned something from his own knights.

I wonder whether the knights would ask Merlin something about Arthur in this way, whenever the king was absent. In ancient kingdoms, kings had advisers, and in order to earn the monarch's favour, you spoke to the latter first. Did Merlin ever play that role for the knights?

7- MERLIN’S IDIOCY

Now, I have a problem with Merlin telling Arthur that 1)- he would have taken any other option but to face war with Annis, and 2)- his decision to kill Caerleon “was made in the best interests of Camelot.”

Sorry, but it wasn’t. Merlin knows that. I understand that he has to rally Arthur’s spirits so that they can win against Annis, but I am glad that Arthur knows full well he has done wrong. Both Merlin and many fans do not give Arthur enough credit for recognising his own errors.

However, even these foolishly optimistic statements pale in comparison to Merlin's reckless and self-righteous interference when Arthur negotiates with Queen Annis. I burst out laughing when he trips and falls headlong into the tent, a metaphor for his impetuousness.

Merlin eavesdrops outside Annis’ tent, gets caught (so he didn't conceal himself), and then has the audacity to say, “Sorry about this!” to Arthur! Not only that, he got angry over being called a “simple-minded fool”, when he couldn’t even walk in a straight line to follow the king, got himself caught and almost killed by enemy soldiers, and made Arthur look as though he were double-crossing Annis!

I completely agree with Arthur’s anger: “Oh, I was being kind, believe me: you almost got me killed in there!” Correct. Merlin simply could not trust that Arthur knew what he was doing, and decided to interfere. Instead of apologising for getting Arthur into trouble, Merlin remains on the defensive, claiming without evidence that Arthur was “doing a pretty good job of that yourself!”

This is untrue. Arthur surrendered himself to Annis’ men. The most injury he received was a slap. He asked a favour. That isn’t risking your life. In fact, Arthur was trying to save lives, and if Merlin had been listening properly (or just stayed in bed), he would have seen that. Only after Merlin’s sudden entrance did Arthur face serious danger from Annis.

Now, Merlin’s explanation for this is, “I’m your friend! I was looking out for you.” I don’t doubt it. But once again, Arthur is right: “I appreciate that in your very confused way, you’re only trying to help, but please: don’t do it again.”

Condescending? Of course. But this time it was Merlin who provoked him into this anger.

8- MORGANA

Despite all her power, Morgana still has to defer to non-magical kings and queens. After all, she requires their military assistance to take over Camelot.

You can also see how Queen Annis detects Morgana’s hatred, greed, self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and bloodlust. In one glance, Queen Annis begins questioning the wisdom of working with a sorceress she does not trust, not least on account of Morgana being a sorceress.

In fact, Arthur’s prowess as a warrior impresses her more: “You have as much to lose as I if Arthur wins…” Fascinating scene.

9- THANK YOU, OLD FRIEND

It’s ironic that arguably the best scene in 4x05 begins by showcasing Arthur’s cynicism. No guesses why Arthur did not tell Merlin about breaking off his relationship with Gwen earlier. That speaks volumes. If he had told Merlin, I think they would have had an argument similar to that of 4x11.

Only when Arthur realises that he may die does he ask Merlin to pass his ring onto Gwen with an apology. You can see the guilt etched onto his face as he refuses to make eye contact. Interestingly, Merlin does not ask any further questions.

Arthur’s entrusting Merlin to look after Gwen in the event of his death says a lot. For example, that ring is technically royal property, yet Arthur gives it to a servant for safe-keeping, rather than his next-of-kin, Agravaine. Despite claiming to need his uncle’s advice, Arthur will not trust Agravaine with such duties. Has Arthur made a medieval will or testament? Obviously, I have no idea, however, this episode already shows Arthur’s reliance on Merlin to deal with family matters.

Another interesting aspect to this scene is Merlin’s silence after Arthur makes an indisputable point. This dispels any idea that Merlin’s advice was always correct. On several occasions, Merlin had to defer to Arthur’s judgement, because he saw the truth and wisdom behind it. “I don’t know what will happen. But for the first time since I became king, I know in my heart I’ve made the right decision.”

Got to love Arthur’s half-amused, “You’re not about to start crying on me, are you?” He expects Merlin to be either in good spirits or confident, because that is how he, too, remains confident. Arthur is an optimist, yet Merlin becomes a pessimist, so the king must pull Merlin together with light and yet serious teasing.

Needless to say, Arthur calling Merlin “old friend” implies that they have been friends for a long time. So why do some fans still think that Arthur had trouble admitting that Merlin was his friend? Also, the word “old” in this context can imply reliability, constancy. Arthur chose that word to describe Merlin’s value, as well as the length of their friendship.

The great thing about Arthur is that while he makes some serious errors, when he does repent, he does so well. Not only does Arthur graciously thank Merlin for his concern, but he makes it clear to Agravaine that he relies on Merlin’s judgement prior to entering battle. This supports my earlier statement that Merlin is Arthur’s best fighter, as well as right-hand man; Arthur does not leave for the fight until Merlin has confirmed his readiness.

On top of this, Arthur later admits that he might be a cabbage head. “I should have listened to you, Merlin. Just this once, I think you were right-- even if you are the worst servant in the five kingdoms!”

By implication, Agravaine is wrong. Arthur won’t say that, of course, but we saw Merlin’s sound advice competing with Agravaine’s lies for this entire episode. We can only conclude that regardless of what he says, Arthur trusts Merlin more than members of his own family.

And this is a theme which will continue and grow for the remainder of Season 4.

FURTHER POINTS:

Merlin’s fighting skills

Paradoxes of Arthur and Merlin’s friendship

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something-very-special · 3 years

Text

Call Her Back

Probably already a post with this title from the Let’s Play but it’s appropriate.

Thoughts on Replicant up to Ending A (and change):

This game is pretty. I guess it didn’t really hit me because I’ve always thought that the original NIER was pretty, but this game can be very pretty.

This in particular just kind of struck me as I was going across the Northern Plains. It had been dominantly gray, overcast skies up to that point because Part II of the game is meant to be. You know. Bleak. But I walked out onto a bright, sunny day with an expanse of blues skies, the mountains in the backgrounds, the ivy a burst of green growing up the rusted sides of the train tracks and it just kind of hit me that the game can be very pretty.

(Then I got punched out by a Shade.)

It’s definitely not a matter of massive graphical overhaul. The models look much better (getting a good look at the Twins during the finale, they really are beautiful) and I’m sure the environmental poly count is much higher and just overall smoother, and there are little touches here and there and just the capacity for better atmospheric lighting... I mean it all helps. But NIER is a game that’s always had fantastic art direction, making the most out of its budget through atmospheric tuning. There’s something uniquely beautiful about its muted palette and the way it uses its spaces that elevates it beyond the its actual technical limitations. It doesn’t look like an end-of-generation PS4 game, but that’s not an insult; it looks very much like itself from ten years ago, with its solid art direction, but touched up where it matters.

Does the sidequest grind seem... better...? I haven’t really dug into the BEST part of the game (spending 30 hours grinding out weapon upgrades) but I mentioned before my theory about how the sidequest grind is supposed to be carried out across multiple playthroughs and that’s why it sucks. To my surprise I finished Ending A missing only one sidequest (your friend and mine, Life in the Sands), with all of the other ones being more or less... pretty natural? The only thing I really needed to go out of my way for was Memory Alloy but all the other components didn’t really give me the kind of grief I remember from my playthroughs of the original. ‘Grief’ of course being relative to getting the platinum trophy, but my first time through the game I gave up finishing a few outstanding sidequests (specifically, fixing the lighthouse broke me-- I could not find 10 Mysterious Switches!)

Maybe I just got lucky, especially with the Machine Oils. Maybe some weird muscle memory kicked in. I feel like there were a few purchasing options that weren’t open originally, too, to ameliorate some of the grind, but it might also be a case of those options being cost-prohibitive so I just didn’t really acknowledge them... whatever the case the sidequest grind felt overall pretty painless. I dunno!

I really need to know how to manipulate events. For literally seven playthroughs straight of the latter half of the game I always did the keystone quest as Junk Heap (start) - Forest of Myth - Junk Heap (end) - Facade - Aerie. It wasn’t until I did a run with my college roommates and Popola gave me the Aerie letter before the Facade in invite that I realized the Aerie wasn’t actually programmed to be the last event.

Absolutely blew my mind, and ever since I became aware of it, it feels like the game goes out of its way to make sure the Aerie always comes before Facade. When I did my Let’s Play of NIER I kept a save file from the start of the kystone collection so I could re-do the events in case they went ‘out of order’ (according to my headcanon)... which they did. I replayed the latter half of the game again in order to get things the way I wanted them to be, same order, and fortunately it cooperated the second time, but I still don’t understand what the trigger is, if there’s a way to manipulate it, or when the determination is even made.

And then they throw the Little Mermaid into the mix, which I wasn’t expecting (that is, I knew it was added, but I’ve been mostly avoiding spoilers -- and happily, the changes have largely been a delight, I’m so excited for the subsequent playthroughs -- but the way it was posted about made it seem like it would happen after and apart from the keystone quest. Not so, my friends).

The reason for this is just the emotional escalation of each factor of the quest. The Forest of Myth is weird and little else (at this juncture, of course). The Junk Heap is a personal tragedy, but the actual tragedy has already occurred and you’re just experiencing the fallout. Facade is a powerful and personal tragedy that deserves to be experienced later on. The Aerie is a terrible place and nobody misses it it’s an enormous loss and profoundly traumatic for the party, and it feels like the appropriate apex to basically force them to go to the Castle and finish the fight, having already lost far too much.

Also it’s just super weird to me that they see that devastation, they literally wipe an entire settlement off the map, and then the next day everybody’s super excited to go to a wedding.

It also becomes even weirder that you go to Popola post-Aerie and nobody mentions ‘yeah that didn’t go so well’ but coming out of Seafront they have a legitimate conversation about the loss of the ferryman and the people they’re never getting back. I guess that guy had a personality but I still think maybe somebody should mention the smoking crater where people used to be.

Then again it’s legitimately funny to me how basically everybody is just agreed the world is better off without it.

This might also just be an issue of familiarity. Maybe if I’d always ended on Facade, or actually known that they could be swapped out as they are, it wouldn’t feel so weird. I definitely got used to the pacing with the Aerie at the end and I feel like I got into a debate with somebody about how it’s more appropriate for Facade to come last so this might just be a personal thing. But it’s still a personal thing and I’m still vaguely irritated I can’t figure out how it works.

Anyway I blew up the Aerie So that’s that problem taken care of.

I feel like the ambiance surrounding Wendy was a little creepier this time. I swear I heard that good stock creepy child laughter in the background.

Then the ferryman left This was a nice bit of foreshadowing; following the Aerie events I wanted to hop over to Seafront to take care of an extant sidequest only to find the ferry dock in the Northern Plains empty. I thought that maybe this was just a weird way of railroading you to make sure you went through the Village first, even though there were no scenes that would trigger just by being in the Village.

Alas.

Not gonna lie, when the couple was first introduced I thought for SURE it was going to be the wife who wound up dead. I guess it’s because the guy had a purpose as an NPC so yeah, I was tricked. Good design decision; the ferryman is talkative and bright and definitely difficult to forget and even though he was kinda obnoxious there’s a definite void where his dialogue was. It’s clever too that you’re forced to use the ferry at least once so you can’t escape the dialogue that you’re presented with, meaning that even if you don’t really make use of the ferry you’ll always have that contrast between him at the start of Part II and the other guy (his brother, maybe?) taking over the job and just not really talking to you afterward.

Episode Mermaid First of all, to be clear, I’ve not done the Route B playthrough yet. All I know about the Little Mermaid is what’s presented on the surface, what can be gleaned from there, what I remember reading in the Grimoire NieR short story. This is very much just an impression and reaction to the first encounter and it’s pretty cool.

I like that they managed to go into yet another genre style aping a point-and-click adventure.

I like the atmosphere of the wrecked ship. It really brought me back to the ‘ghost ship’ level archetype with its little hints of spookiness.

I appreciate that it ties subtly in to the Haunted Manor (technically the Part I Seafront dungeon) with Weiss’ utterly irrational fear of ghosts.

I love every excuse they find to get Kaine and Emil (and especially Kaine) out of a situation. It’s almost a running gag that Kaine keeps getting knocked out of dungeons and boss fights. None of them are quite as great as her getting Rules Lawyer’d in the Barren Temple, but there’s something delightful about “Let’s get you some fresh air, we’ll be right outside, be careful!” and then bookending it with Kaine and Emil just chilling at the end like “Well yeah there are a lot of holes in the hull we just popped in.”

(I forgot to go backward to see what happens if you try to take them into Seafront proper, gotta remember that next time.)

Interesting thing when you find some of the dropped apples is that Nier and Weiss talk about the dinner they had with the couple. This was actually a really sweet and oddly emotional conclusion to the added sidequest between the bickering couple-- entirely missable. I would assume the dialogue just doesn’t trigger if you didn’t do the quest but it was a nice touch.

I appreciate the use of dead bodies in the hold.

(That’s a sentence.)

But for the game’s focus on violence and excess of blood it’s very selective in how it uses actual corpses. Any time you see a dead body it really emphasizes the seriousness of the situation. The corpses in the hold and the blood spatter -- especially compared to how bright and clean Seafront as a whole is -- was surprisingly effective. Again, just good atmospheric buildup.

Bit of an anticlimax as a boss, though. It is a really cool boss, between the environmental buildup to the fight and then actually unveiling her, but for how big and scary she is the fight itself went by fairly quick, and the actual finale (the postman whacking her hand telling her to go away she’s groooooss) felt a bit weird in comparison to the way the boss fights in the rest of the game usually play out. Of course, I don’t have context of her dialogue (I can take my guesses, her holding out her hand to Hans as he freaks out and attacks her is already a palpable tragedy) and by the way the scene was framed I suspect the Route B reveal is where the most important part of the scenario lies.

And the seals came back! It’s the little things.

“I wish I was Fyra.” So in the original Replicant the conversation between Emil and Nier before Sech’s wedding was apparently an implication that Emil had a crush on Nier and wanted to marry him. It was ambiguous enough that people had to ask for clarification and some players interpreted it as a weird, childish expression of looking up to and respecting Brother Nier. It was clarified in the Grimoire NieR that Emil is gay and crushing hard on Brother Nier, and this line of dialogue here seems to have been... not made explicit, but changed even between RepliCant and ver. 1.22 to make the implication a little clearer, at least insofar as he isn’t interested in girls. (It winds up missing the implication that he’s into Nier specifically, though.)

...which is funny, because it colors his introduction to the King of Facade somewhat differently. These two meeting is honestly really sweet on a few levels (Sechs recognizing him from Nier’s descriptions, which implies that Nier’s been visiting Sechs regularly and so proud of his interactions with Emil he told the king of another nation all about him, and the King is legit excited to meet him) but then a couple of minutes later Emil is all ‘I’m so jealous of Fyra’. He isn’t crushing on Nier, but he is totally crushing on Sechs.

Endgame At this point in the game the distinction between Brother and Father has become mostly lost and the final charge is pretty much the same as

wait what’s up with the music in the Lost Shrine? This is Snow in Summer.

Or an arrangement thereof. That particular track level from Snow in Summer winds up getting used in a few new places and it has this kind of weird, vague sense of dread that makes it work pretty well. Utterly threw me off in the Lost Shrine, though (I think it’s appropriate given its connection to the Shadowlord/Gestalt Nier so slowly re-introducing it in the climb is pretty cool). It also builds insanely as you climb, which is a very cool effect but, um, I’m just here to pick up some sidequest items right now this feels like a little much.

There isn’t much to say regarding any impact or differences in the large part of this area of the game. It’s a good final dungeon, it carries good momentum, it works as well as it ever did (that is to say, rather well). The emotional beats are great and translate equally well between the protagonists, although I have to give the nod to Papa Nier during a lot of this just for the imagery of such a big, powerful man becoming so broken the further he goes in (and Kaine being strong enough to toss him around like a rag doll anyway).

The final flashback with Nier and Yonah also feels better with Papa Nier. I always read it as, of course, Papa Nier having his moment with Yonah, giving her the flower, and as he lays back down Yonah does the same big sigh like she’s trying to emulate her dad and it’s really sweet. This is another one of those moments where it’s not something that feels wrong in Replicant, but just having that comparison in the back of my head is something that I just can’t help.

Is Papa Nier still Best Neir? Yes.

But there’s room in my heart for Brother. I’m glad the bizarre marketing decision happened and both of these characters can exist.

...and then we reload the save. Okay, okay, so-- so here’s the thing-- I figured that’s a good place to conclude a session, right? Get to the ending, prepare for the next run. But I also know that Route B starts with Kaine’s unskippable novel segments. I’ve read them, of course, so I figure I’ll just reload into Route B so I can make a save after the novel sections, really get into the meat of Route B when I’m fresh.

So skim through those--

Beat up the Knave--

Skim through the rest--

Educated Warrior... didn’t pop...?--

Wait what’s this camera angle--

Why am I outs--

oh my god

KAINE AND EMIL HAVING GIGGLY GIRL TALK AROUND THE CAMPFIRE OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

THERE’S MORE.

THERE’S. MORE.

I legit short-circuited. Going in I knew they added the Little Mermaid. I knew they added Ending E. Those were things I suspected would be added and went out to specifically confirm; beyond that I’ve been keeping myself completely spoiler free.

I had no idea there was more. I had no idea this was happening.

I’m so excited.

And a goofy thought for the road

“I polished you with a special cloth, I poured warm water on you--”

“Wait, you poured water on me?”

/imagines Emil running blindfolded eight hours across the Southern Plains with an 8oz plastic water cup, getting to the library, splashing it on Kaine, waiting expectantly

/nothing happens

/walks dejectedly eight hours all the way back to the Manor

#NieR #NieR Replicant #Musings #Ramblings #OH MY GOD WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME ABOUT THIS #I AM SO GLAD NOBODY TOLD ME ABOUT THIS

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vanessakirbyfans · 3 years

Link

Vanessa Kirby suggests we meet on the Mall, the central location for her on-screen triumph as the young Princess Margaret in The Crown. I’m standing outside the shuttered Institute of Contemporary Arts when she strides into view, a slender, leggy figure with bleached hair and brilliant blue eyes, clad in trademark black, but for her gleaming white Converse trainers.

"I haven’t been here since we were filming!" she marvels through her mask, gazing up the processional avenue towards Buckingham Palace. "I was whizzing up the road on a motorbike, holding onto the back of Matthew Goode [as Antony Armstrong-Jones] and feeling so exhilarated about what on Earth was happening to my life – being in a job I loved, playing someone I loved."

Her ebullient mood was dented when Margaret’s handbag, into which she’d put her own phone, was blown away from between her feet, and an opportunistic passer-by ran off with it. "By the time I could check Find My iPhone, it was already in Leicester Square," she says. "Of course, the costume department were furious because the bag was vintage and a one-off." We both laugh, rather ruefully, for such anecdotes already seem to belong to a more carefree time. This bright, crisp lunchtime in lockdown, the Mall is all but deserted –there would be no need for roadblocks or filming at dawn today – while the roles Kirby is here to discuss are light-years away from her embodiment of a pampered royal party girl.

The morning of our meeting, Pieces of a Woman has launched on Netflix to rapturous reviews and critical acclaim that has seen Kirby, in her first lead role, picked as a front-runner for the award season’s most coveted best-actress gongs.

It is not, however, an easy watch. Kirby plays Martha, a first-time mother whose baby dies moments after being born; the film follows Martha’s subsequent disintegration, alongside that of her close relationships. Her labour, which comes at the start of the film, is some 26 minutes of one unbroken take that manages to be simultaneously intimate and menacing as the camera swoops around the apartment and hovers beside the traumatised protagonists.

Kirby’s performance is astonishingly unselfconscious, which is the more surprising since she never went to drama school (turning down the offer of a place at Lamda in favour of stage roles at Bolton’s Octagon Theatre) and says she couldn't bring herself to dance in front of her friends. "I’m the one who sits in the corner and watches." She describes seeing herself on-screen as "disconcerting", and "not a very natural human experience", and indeed even finds making Zoom calls a trial. "There’s nothing to hide behind!"

For Pieces of a Woman, the director Kornel Mundruczo decided that the birth scene would be the first to be shot, she tells me, as we stroll around St James’s Park, conducting ourselves like a couple of spies in a Le Carré novel. "I knew I’d have to be naked, and literally open my legs and give birth in front of a group of strangers I’d only met that morning. I was actually quite thankful – I thought, the rest of it’s going to be a lot easier."

In fact, she says, she found herself swept away by the emotion of the story. "Normally, it’s so hard to forget there are machines in your face, but I had no idea that a camera was even there." Was it traumatic to act? "The first time we shot it, I was literally sobbing for 10 minutes afterwards. I couldn’t get out of it. My brain was telling me it wasn’t real, but my unconscious didn’t know the difference, especially with having a real baby in my arms.

"Kornel came over onto the bed and held me so tight. He didn’t let go of me for five minutes, and he said, 'Just remember this feeling.' That really helped me for the rest of the movie, when the character doesn’t express anything, but almost has to be doing the howling without speaking a word."

Kirby took her research seriously, even asking a mother-to-be –a total stranger – to allow her to be present in the delivery room at the birth of her son in a north-London hospital. "I remember every single second of it," the actress says emphatically. "I was there, glued to my seat, for seven hours, not even a loo break! I was just amazed, in awe. I saw a woman completely surrender and go on this spiritual journey, which involved indescribable pain, clearly, but also ecstasy. It gave me a whole new respect for women and how powerful they are, and a new empathy for men, because they feel so helpless. And obviously, seeing the baby come out was the most incredible thing in the world I’ve ever seen, by far. After he was born, all of the mother’s colour returned, she looked like an angel, she had a kind of holy glow." Bathetically, it was only then that the couple recognised Kirby. "They were going, 'Oh my God, it’s Princess Margaret! This is so weird!'"

The experience has given her a new philosophy on life, she says. "I was watching the mother go through these contractions, which were excruciating, and the pushing, and then there was a moment of calm, and of expansion. And so, when I’m going through things in my life, I say to myself, this is like a contraction, surrender to it, because there might be something born from it. Sometimes we don’t want that; when we’re feeling something horrible, we want it to pass as far as possible. I’m teaching myself to allow it to be there and not resist or push it away, and that’s because of that woman."

But her character’s storyline also demanded that Kirby understand the experience of stillbirth. A friend introduced her to a woman who had lost her baby Luciana under eerily similar circumstances to those in Martha’s narrative. "She shared everything with me." They have become close friends, and the film’s ending is dedicated to Luciana. Kirby continues to work with Sands, the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death charity, and is voluble in her admiration of the Duchess of Sussex and Chrissy Teigen, both of whom have recently spoken out about their own experiences of miscarriage.

"I feel so close to them and so proud of them for breaking that silence," she says. "Meghan is probably the last person who would feel comfortable sharing her very personal, intimate feelings. It’s that courage that I want to continue to honour. What they’re saying is, if you’ve been through it, we have too, we share your story. I think that makes you feel less lonely. But one in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage, which is far more than I knew about. Society finds it difficult to hold space for that kind of pain."

Her parents, to whom she is very close, have both seen the film and wept throughout, she says. As if on cue, her phone pings, and her eyes soften when she checks the message; it’s a childhood friend who herself miscarried, getting in touch to say how much the film has meant to her.

The integrity of Kirby’s performance has already netted her the Volpi Cup for Best Actress at the Venice Film Festival. "It doesn’t seem real," she says. "I have it in its case – I wouldn’t have it on display, it looks like a football trophy – but occasionally I glance at it and think, 'Did that really happen? Or did I make it up in a weird dream?'" In a similar vein, she is reluctant to engage with the Oscar buzz surrounding her. "I don’t even know when they are," she admits. "My 13-year-old self would have a heart attack. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it!"

Kirby’s other film, The World to Come, is set in mid-19th-century America but touches on the same themes of bereavement and redemption. The central character Abigail, played by Katherine Waterston, has also lost her young daughter, and in her grief, turns away from her husband to have an affair with Tallie, her free-spirited, flame-haired neighbour. "I was glad I was playing Tallie rather than Abigail, because it might have been a bit too much," Kirby confesses – though without giving away spoilers, that role is pretty traumatic too...

The screenplay is taken from the short story of the same name by Jim Shepard, which was inspired by an entry he found in an antique diary: 'My best friend’s moved away, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.' "It was one woman’s voice, like an echo from the past, and we’ll never know who she was," says Kirby. "The World to Come really educated me about what life was like for women not that long ago. They didn’t have a choice about anything they did with their time. You were owned by the house, and the man, and you had no freedom outside that. The best thing about doing this mad job sometimes is having your ignorance illuminated. I gravitate towards things that push beyond my experience, I want to go to places I don’t know, I’m not familiar with."

The experience of making both films has changed her profoundly. "I can’t do anything unless it means something to me now," she says. "It’s a better way to work, because you’re not focused on yourself at all. So maybe I’ll only work once every 10 years!"

To ensure that this is not the case, and in order to find more untold, female-led stories, her ambition is now to set up her own production company. "Even a few years ago, a film about a woman losing a baby would have been unthinkable. There are so many voiceless people, and I have a voice in this industry, and I want to make sure the tribe is represented properly."

It is undeniably awkward, therefore, that her male co-stars in the films, Shia LaBeouf and Casey Affleck, both of whom play violent, abusive husbands, have been called out for their treatment of women. In December, the British singer FKA Twigs filed a lawsuit against LaBeouf, her ex-partner, alleging that he "hurts women. He uses them. He abuses them, both physically and mentally". While LaBeouf largely denied the accusations, he admitted in a statement to The New York Times: "I have a history of hurting the people closest to me. I’m ashamed of that history and am sorry to those I hurt. There is nothing else I can really say."

Meanwhile, Affleck was sued by two female crew members working on his 2010 film I’m Still Here, one of whom accused him of sexual harassment. He denied the allegations, and the lawsuits were settled out of court, but he later told the Associated Press: "I behaved in a way, and I allowed others to behave in a way, that was really unprofessional, and I’m sorry."

Kirby is understandably reluctant to get into any of this. "I can’t comment on a legal case that’s going on in someone’s personal life," she says. "I feel really protective of Pieces, so that’s what I want to speak about. Because it came out at eight this morning, all I can think about is the mothers I spoke to, and wanting them to be my focus. I just know my job is to honour them."

Perhaps counter-intuitively, starring in Pieces has awakened in her the desire for a family of her own. "It’s definitely made me want a baby, for sure," she says; but she hasn’t currently got a partner, having split up from Callum Turner (Frank Churchill in last year’s Emma), whom she met when they co-starred in the 2014 film Queen & Country. "This year has made me think a lot about the home I want to create. I like the idea of inviting someone into a space that’s mine, preferably before I have kids."

In the near future, however, Kirby has nothing on her plate except for getting through a third lockdown. "I’m free as a bird! I’ve read a lot of stuff, and said no to a lot of stuff..." She currently shares a flat in Tooting, south London, with her sister Juliet, an assistant director, and two friends. "I was just about to move out to live on my own in north London – my God, I would have been so lonely! My sister saved me. It was so nice to have routines together. We were trying to take a bit of exercise, cooking together, watching films that made us feel better, drinking wine on Friday nights..."

By now, having circled St James’s Park several times, we are strolling back towards the Corinthia Hotel, where Kirby has a full programme of Zoom interviews lined up for the afternoon. "That’s why I’m so happy to have actually had the chance to go out and meet you in real life," she says enthusiastically. "It’s funny when everything in your life closes down, and you have to sit with yourself, and you suddenly notice all the things you have and you’re grateful for. I hope that feeling never goes away – I will never underestimate how lucky I am."

#Vanessa Kirby #Pieces of a Woman #The World to Come #Interview #Articles

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crystaljins · 4 years

Text

River lead me home | 04

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 8.6 k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: Omg I actually forgot twice in a row to post this LOL. It’s getting posted now at least!! I feel like I’ve had the sort of week where I’m extra tired. Idk.

Anyway I’ve been writing these HP prompts people sent in recently and I’m having so much fun! If you’re someone who sent it in, I promise I got your prompt! I’m just slowly but surely making my way through!!

Tags: @blue1928

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

It’s clear that you’re on your best behaviour after Jin agrees to travel with you.

After your detour to rescue Jin, the river is now a seven day walk away. A few days’ worth of hiking will take the three of you to a village on the outskirts of the forest, where you will be able to purchase a second bedroll and more food and water supplies. After that, it is a steady trek past the Mountains of Delaria, at the foot of which you will be able to see the radiant night sky, clearer than in any other part of the realm. Following that, it is a hike through the murky swamplands, and then finally once the three of you cross the golden plains, which grow many unique species of metallic flora, you will finally reach the edge of the river.

One would think that you’d be excited to be on such a journey, especially given the motives that went into going on it in the first place, but instead you are intent on making Jin feel like you’re an overbearing bodyguard instead of his friend. He feels like at any moment in time you are one leaf crackle away from pulling out a broomstick and sweeping a clear path through the forest for him to walk down. You flinch at the slightest thing- a bug lands on him and you feel the need to do a full body check for injuries. A twig pokes him and you’re ready to pull out a flame thrower. It’s clear you’re on some kind of self-assigned mission.

And it’s sweet, it is. If he stops and thinks about it, you’re obviously trying to make up for past transgressions. It’s nice, to know that you value him enough that his harsh words are motivation to treat him better rather than just cutting him out of your life.

But. For goodness’ sake. It’s getting to be a little out of hand.

“You’re shivering.” Jin groans, his voice raspy with sleep. You turn your head from where you are huddled at the base of a tree to where Jin has raised his head from his lying position to glare at you. He’d only been joking when he agreed to take your bedroll, but you’d insisted. And now it’s been a few hours and it’s not like he can get a wink of sleep with you shivering from cold a few metres away.

“I’m not.” You insist through chattering teeth, even as you hug your knees closer to your chest and release an indignant exhale that puffs against the cold air in a cloud. Jungkook, who is sound asleep in the pocket of your jacket, releases a loud snore. Jin groans and sits up, swaddled warmly in your bedroll.

“I told you to take the bedroll!” He snaps. He doesn’t mean to be quite so harsh in his tone, and he instantly regrets it when you cower like a scolded puppy. It’s too reminiscent of times past. He always makes you flinch away when he’s just trying to make you understand. Why he’s worried. Why the things you do are reckless. What it means to the people who love you were they to lose you. But he can’t seem to separate the fear and anger that comes with that sentiment and what has resulted is you constantly thinking he hates you. Which isn’t true! He’s not mad and he doesn’t hate you... he just feels bad. And in all honesty... You can’t honestly expect him to sleep peacefully when he knows you’re miserable, can you?

“You said you wouldn’t sleep on the forest floor and I don’t have enough money for that inn we passed.” You mumble. You’re no weakling. You had promised yourself this was going to be the best trip of Jin’s life and so that’s what it’s going to be. You weren’t about to make him sleep in the cold when you’d dragged him to this realm against his will in the first place. Jin is silent for a moment, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I didn’t want you to give up your bedroll. I thought you were only joking when you said that.” He mumbles, shuffling closer. He stares at you for a long moment. He’s been procrastinating bringing this up with you all day because honestly, he feels awkward and he doesn’t know where he stands with you. Everything is weird and messed up- there’s so much history and hard feelings between the two of you, but at the same time you both care too much to give up. What has resulted is this weird limbo where the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. But he doesn’t think he can last another moment of your overbearing actions, let alone another few weeks.

“Listen, (Y/N), I get that you want me to have a good time on this trip. I do. But really, you don’t have to try so hard. I actually would not enjoy it if you froze to death when there’s a perfectly good bedroll for you to use right here.” You bite your lip and stare at Jin. His hair is messy, and his eyes are squinted from sleep. He’s rolled up in your bedroll like a burrito and he looks comfortable and warm. You’re struck by the thought that it would be nice to curl up beside him, but you push the thought down as quickly as it arrives- you’re good at pushing away those kind of intrusive thoughts.

It’s difficult to articulate the feelings that have you on edge, but they largely come down to this: You don’t want Jin to keep seeing you as a burden. It’s not like it’s new news- a certain incident in highschool springs to mind- but it’s never occurred to you until his outburst just how frustrated he is by your relationship. But now that you know, you cannot bear the thought. The bruises and swelling have long vanished. Those are the last remnants of the attack on him by the Saishtas, but though they are almost gone, every now and then you see him stretch his shoulder in discomfort and you are reminded anew; to Jin, you are a pain. An inconvenience. An unwanted responsibility.

“I know.” You finally say. “But I really, really want you to have a good time. I don’t want you to keep thinking of me as this annoying brat you have to look after all the time.”

That’s why you asked him to come with you to see the river. You want to prove to him on this trip that he doesn’t have to constantly be responsible for you. You’re not an untrained puppy. And, if you’re being really honest, you want to go back. To the times before things got messed up between the two of you. Back to when you were kids and your biggest concern was what bugs you would catch at the river near your village or who could climb to the treetops faster. You just... you keep remembering his face, the night your mother announced her engagement, and his words won’t stop playing on repeat in your head. “I’ve let you step all over me our whole lives”, he had said. You... don’t want to be that person to him. Not anymore.

Jin feels guilt eat at him when your brow furrows. It’s clear that his earlier words to you at the portal are affecting you profoundly. Which had never been his intention- he had been hurt and confused and had lashed out. He doesn’t actually think you’re selfish and immature. You have your moments, for sure, and he’s not about to go singing your praises off roof tops any time soon, but the level of guilt and self-loathing you are experiencing in response to his earlier outburst is more than he intended.

You flinch when you feel pressure at the space between your brows. Jin is pressing his index finger into the crease that has formed there in your moping.

“Relax.” He sighs. “You know we could have just shared?”

He unzips the sleeping bag and spreads it and shuffles forward until he can spread it over the two of you like a blanket. He leans against the tree trunk you rest against as well. You find yourself huddling in closer to him, just on instinct, because as embarrassing as it is to admit to yourself, you’re freezing. And Jin’s body heat feels like the inside of a toaster.

Jin clears his throat awkwardly. He hadn’t expected you to cave quite so easily and curl into him like that. A peaceful moment of silence lingers in the air, however, until he breaks it.

“(Y/N).” He says slowly. “I know things have been awkward between us, and I know that over the past few days we’ve said a lot of things to each other, but I want you to know you don’t have to try so hard.”

“I do.” You insist. “Jin... every word you said about me earlier was true. I’ve been so selfish, and immature and you’re the one who’s had to suffer because of that.”

Jin chews at the inside of his cheek for a moment, before dropping his gaze.

“I was wrong to say those things.” He finally says. “You can be immature and selfish sometimes, but I shouldn’t have said it like that. And I shouldn’t have said those things about your father. I know... I know you’re trying, (Y/N). And it probably seems like I’m really harsh on you and only seem to nag you all the time, but that’s because I know you’re so much more than what you let yourself be. So please. Just relax, and be yourself. I’ve known with you my whole life- I don’t want a personality transplant.”

When he finally gathers the courage to look at you again, you are gazing up at him with round, watery eyes. The look in your eyes is a little overwhelming. It’s the same look you always give him; like he’s a hero, who can only do right. He bites his lip- there it is again. That urge, to live up to the image he knows you have of him in your head.

“I never thanked you, you know.” He says suddenly, changing the subject in an attempt to overcome that urge. You merely continue to gaze up at him. Jin is always handsome in a way that is otherworldly, but up close he’s simply overwhelming. You can just barely make out his face, but even in the meagre light, your heart still does a weird pulse against your ribs when you meet his dark eyes.

“For what?” You finally say, and it’s a struggle for you to keep your voice even under the weight of his gaze. He shrugs and smiles, pulling you in close enough that you have to shift to avoid crushing Jungkook in your pocket.

“For saving me.” He says. “I think I was too shocked earlier to say it, but I really thought I was going to die back there. So, thank you.”

“You were in trouble because of me.” You point out. “It wasn’t bravery. If anything had happened to you, it would have been my fault.”

Jin nods, pressing his lips together awkwardly. He doesn’t know what he can say to convince you otherwise, so he forgoes giving you an answer. Instead, he reaches his hand up to press against the side of your head until you are forced to rest lay your head down against his shoulder.

“Go to sleep, (Y/N).” He whispers. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

He feels your body relax beside him, and your head sinks against him. He cannot resist the smile that slides onto his face, and he turns his head away, lest you look up and see it. He’s missed moments like these. They are few and far between, especially as of late since you’ve been avoiding him more and more. In the silence that follows, he thinks you may have finally fallen asleep, but then you break it.

“Jin.” You say softly. The words are hardly more than a whisper, almost lost in the exhale of your breath. If he weren’t a guardian with enhanced hearing, he surely would have missed them.

“Yeah?” He asks, allowing his head to drop so that it rests against the crown of your head. Tomorrow he will wake up with a kink in his neck, but it’s almost worth it.

“I’ve been avoiding you.” The confession holds a lot of weight for you. For just yesterday, you had had every intention of letting Jin fade from your life. Of letting your insecurities and sense of inferiority guide you. You had hated him, the way he made you feel, the way that you could never be around him without remembering all the ways in which you did not and could not measure up to him and the kind of people he liked to keep company with. But at the same time... you cannot hate him. You want to despise him, to let the feelings of jealousy and misery consume you, to continue to mope if your pity party, but this is Jin. The person who has been there for you in your darkest moments even if he did not want to be. The man who could not leave you, even when he should have. The man who had cradled you like you were something precious as you fell through into this realm.

“I know.” He sighs, turning his head away to gaze up at the fractured glimpses of the stars above. “I was letting you.” He confesses right back to you. The words hover between you and it forces you to confront how messed up the relationship has become between you. If you continue to do nothing about it, you really will lose him.

But you don’t want that to happen. You know that now, after everything the two of you have endured together. You want him in your life. And it’s not too late to fix it all. You really, truly believe that.

“But I don’t want to avoid you anymore.” You announce, and Jin snorts.

“I figured, since you pretty much begged me to spend the next two weeks with you and the fruit fly.” He observes, and you smile and look away. “Now go to sleep. We have nearly two weeks of hiking ahead of us and I have every intention of making you carry me if my feet hurt.” He sniffs. You can’t resist one last parting shot before allowing yourself to drift off, however.

“Thank you.” You call softly, right when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. He stirs slightly and glances down at you in surprise. You shift and peer up at him with sleepy but warm eyes. And something about the look makes his throat feel tight and the tips of his ears feel hot and he is once again struck by the thought that you suddenly don’t look like the annoying little girl that he’s known all his life.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to him that night. He’s not really sure why, other than the fact that he feels strangely aware of the way the warmth of your body spreads to his beneath the cover of the bed roll, and the way your shoulders rise and fall in steady comforting breaths. It must eventually lull him to sleep, however, for when he rouses, you are still fast asleep, but Jungkook peers at him with amusement from his position on Jin’s outstretched knee. Jungkook lies flat on his stomach which his legs kicked up in the air like he is a young girl at a sleepover about to spill the secrets of her latest crush to her friends.

The pleased, almost catlike smile Jungkook gives as he rests his chin in his hands and kicks his legs back and forth has Jin instantly on his guard. He and the oversized mosquito don’t get along at the best of times, and Jin knows Jungkook well enough to discern that a look like that on the pesky pixie’s face only spells trouble for Jin.

“So...” Jungkook begins, drawing out the “so” for an obnoxiously long amount of time. Beside him, you still snooze peacefully, unaware of the trouble that is about to unfold. Jin shifts slightly so that he is in prime position to glare at Jungkook with full power, taking care not to jostle your head where it rests against his shoulder.

“What?” Jin asks. To his credit, he doesn’t snap or anything like that, which is rare when it comes to Jungkook. He has the unique ability make Jin lose his temper, which is usually a rare occurrence. (Excluding any involvement with you, of course)

“Nothing. You just look very comfortable.” Jungkook observes, with a pointed look at your sleeping form. You shift and tuck your head more securely against Jin. His gaze flicks back for a moment, distracted by the movement, and when he turns back to Jungkook, Jungkook’s tiny smile has widened.

“Jungkook...” Jin calls warningly, although he is unsure as to what he is cautioning Jungkook against with the edge in his tone. He just knows that he will not like whatever comes out of Jungkook’s mouth next.

“When’s...” Jungkook has to pause in a fit of snickering, struggling to get the words out because he really thinks he’s that funny. “When’s the wedding?”

Jin is silent at Jungkook’s little joke, and Jin’s lack of response has Jungkook almost rolling off Jin’s knee with the force of his guffaws. The noise is loud enough to cause you to stir in your sleep. Jin ignores this, however, because he knows from past experiences that your bed could literally be on fire and you’d remain asleep.

When Jungkook finally calms down enough to stop laughing, he pauses at the glare present on Jin’s face.

“What?” He questions, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Is it really that offensive?” Then his expression turns mischievous. “Does it hit too close to home? Me implying you like her in that way?” His wings raise him up in the air so that he is eye level with Jin, and he lounges mid-air, idly examining his nails.

“No.” Jin snaps, shifting uncomfortably. The weight of your head against him, previously comforting, now seems to weigh him down. He feels pinned in place, and his lungs feel stiff like they are refusing to expand. “I’m just astounded at how you can make such a ridiculous joke. I’d never like her.”

Jungkook shrugs, spinning around in the air so that his back points to the ground like he’s lying in a hammock, and folds his arms behind his head.

“I mean if you’d seen the look on your face when she got sucked into the portal, you’d probably be thinking the same thing as me.” Jungkook points out. Jin grits his teeth- he cannot explain the sudden unease he feels, the way Jungkook’s words seem to burrow under his skin and make the world seem off-kilter. It’s not like people haven’t made jokes about him liking you before- some of his exes have even dumped him because they were so unsure about how he felt towards you. But this makes him uncomfortable, for some reason. The way that Jungkook watches him, seemingly nonchalant, but concealing sharp, observant eyes, just gets to him.

“Wouldn’t you have been concerned if your friend was getting sucked into a dangerous portal?” Jin retorts, oddly defensive. Jungkook taps his fingers ponderingly against his chin.

“My friends are you, Taehyung and (Y/N).” Jungkook reminds him. “You’re literally members of the most feared species in this entire realm. I wouldn’t have to feel concerned. But that’s off topic anyway. Even if I were hypothetically human and could have something like a friend... I don’t think I would have pulled the same face you did in that moment.” He sits up and meets Jin’s gaze steadily. He’s serious in a way that Jin has never really seen Jungkook be before. “You looked like your entire world was about to end.”

Jin is silent because he has no defence against Jungkook’s observations. He’d looked that way because he’d felt that way. He’d tried so hard, in that moment, to walk away from you. To leave you to your own devices. But then he’d been struck by that feeling- the fear of losing you. Of not having you in his life. It’s a similar feeling to dangling over cliff face by his fingertips.

“I’m just saying,” Jungkook announces, as reclines lazily in the air once more. “You go on dates with literally any female with a pulse... why not with the most convenient female you know?”

Jin stares in consternation at Jungkook because he is absolutely floored by the absurdity of Jungkook’s statement. Dating you would be anything but convenient. It would be the most troublesome, headache inducing investment of his life.

Suddenly, you shift once more, bringing up a hand to curl into the material of Jin’s shirt, and he allows his gaze to fix on you, on the way hair hangs in your face and your lashes rest against the apples of your cheeks. Dating you is amongst the stupidest suggestions Jungkook has ever made. Because dating you means... well, because it means risking you. Risking you seeing him differently, risking you seeing all the ugly things about his personality that you’re currently blind to... it means risking your position in his life. Because as it stands, you are already avoiding him and pulling away from him - if he were to date you and then things didn’t work out... he’d never see you again.

This is all hypothetical of course. Jin isn’t even interested in dating you. He doesn’t and probably never will see you in that way.

“Listen, Jungkook,” Jin finally says. “Maybe you got the wrong idea, but let me make it clear for you: I have never, and will never see (Y/N) in that way. She’s just someone I have a responsibility towards; nothing more, nothing less. Besides, back home I have a queue of women waiting for me- do you really think I’d settle for someone like her?”

The words sound harsh and rattle around in the air and Jin regrets them as soon as he says them. But he can’t take them back, once he’s said them, and the words are true. Or at least, they have to be true. Jungkook shrugs like he couldn’t care less, which, really, based off Jin’s knowledge of Jungkook, is probably true.

“If you say so.” Jungkook says dismissively, and Jin is saved any further answer or uncomfortable answer by you rousing slowly. You blink sleepily at Jin a few times, and he only just manages to catch you by the forehead when you go to lean your head back against him and settle back into sleep.

“Not so fast.” Jin scolds, secretly grateful for the distraction and wanting to dwell on something other than the unpleasant churning in his stomach Jungkook’s words have triggered. “No more sleeping.”

You groan and push away from Jin, ready to curl up on the forest floor.

And Jin misses the disbelieving look Jungkook shoots the two of you in his distraction. Because he can’t see what Jungkook sees in that moment, and that is the thinly veiled affection and warmth that lingers in his eyes despite the scolding that follows.

Jungkook sighs and shakes his head- Jin will figure it out eventually.

The journey after that night is supposed to go smoothly. After your chat with Jin that night, you feel that a burden has lifted from your shoulders. You never realised how something as simple as talking to Jin could clear the air. It wasn’t so much the things that were said, but just the way that you now know that Jin is no longer holding it against you. It gives you hope, that things can be normal- you can be friends once again. So as the three of you set off, you expect the journey from there to be the light-hearted, soul-searching endeavour you had set out to have.

Only, from that night Jin starts acting strange. It’s weird- you had felt so relieved and freed by your conversation, but it seems to have had the opposite effect on Jin. He is tense and cranky, always snapping at Jungkook. He’s never rude to you, at least, but he is oddly reserved. The three of you start to approach the edge of the forest- the bluish peaks of the Mountains of Delaria peak through the canopy overhead and the tree start to clear, but Jin’s mood does not seem to clear. You can’t find a cause or rational explanation for it.

Perhaps it doesn’t help that Jungkook seems to thrive on Jin’s irritation.

“I spy... with my little eye.... something starting with “T”.” Jungkook hums, right beside your ear where he is seated, cross legged on your shoulder a couple of days after that night. You spot Jin’s eye twitch slightly in the way that it does when he is really, truly annoyed. Today he has been especially on edge, and with each passing moment, Jungkook’s grin widens and Jin’s ire increases.

“Tree?” Jin suggests with gritted teeth, and Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Wow that’s the third time you’ve guessed it on the first go!” Jungkook cries, his voice laden with admiration. You have no doubt that it isn’t a genuine admiration. Jungkook is absolutely taking advantage of the older guardian’s foul mood.

“It’s the fourth time you’ve used “tree” as your word!” The outburst comes so suddenly that you flinch and Jungkook nearly tumbles off your shoulder. You wince- you had been trying to ease the tension that hovered in the air with a simple game, but you guess after four hours, Jin’s patience has run thin. It’s better than the conversation earlier that morning, where Jungkook was talking about his favourite romcoms and Jin’s hands kept twitching like he’s just barely restraining himself from going after the irritating creature.

“That’s not true.” Jungkook argues and you know he’s pushing it purely to be contrary. “Two rounds ago the word was “twig”!”

You reach out hastily to plant a hand on Jin’s shoulder, hoping to placate him before he grabs Jungkook and launches him like a javelin across the forest floor. Jungkook would probably enjoy it, but you don’t know that he’d survive it. Jin blinks in surprise at your hand, like he’d forgotten you were there.

He then very subtly shrugs off your hand, in such a gentle manner that you almost feel like you imagined it. It’s weird- you don’t know why such a simple and meaningless gesture hurts, but it does. You quickly withdraw your hands and flex your fingers in an attempt to shake off the embarrassment.

“L-let’s try a different game!” You suggest in a desperate attempt to salvage things before Jin actually goes looking for bug spray. He glares at you for a moment, but then his expression softens just slightly. He takes a long, slow inhale and squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them again, his expression is calmer.

“What did you have in mind?” He asks at last.

“It’s a word association game.” You explain hastily, knowing Jin’s temper is hovering by a thread and one wrong word will launch him into a Jant. “We count to three and then say the first word to come to mind. And then we have to say a word associated with the words we just said, until we guess the same word. Ready, Jungkook and I will go first, we play this game all the time.”

You shoot Jungkook a warning glare to remind him to behave. You then inhale deeply and prepare yourself.

“Three... two... one...” you count down. “Leaf!” You cry in the same moment that Jungkook shouts “Tree!” In top volume.

You aren’t quick enough to stop Jin when he makes a furious grab for Jungkook. You’re not sure how you get Jungkook out of that situation alive, because things go a bit blurry after that. And you still don’t have an explanation for Jin’s behaviour.

And if it were just his crankiness with Jungkook, maybe you could justify it. Jungkook, after all, is very annoying. But it’s his attitude to you that really baffles you. He suddenly treats you like you have the plague- he’ll accidentally brush your hand and then suddenly scramble away until the two of you are walking a metre apart. He refuses to share the bedroll again- instead he curls up on the cold forest floor and shivers the whole night, and any attempts to get him share like that first night have him responding with such vehemence you have to stop yourself from tearing up in hurt. You wish he’d just explain.

Finally, things come to a head right at the very edge of the forest, where the three of you will finally be able to enter a village and restock supplies and pick up another bed roll. The confrontation comes in the form of Jin screeching like his life depends on it. Of course, you are instantly on your guard, searching out the danger he faces and ready to fight off any intruders alerted to your location by his scream. But you fail to locate any obvious threats to Jin, who continues to dance about wildly, still in near hysterics.

“What’s wrong?” You cry, managing to grab his shoulders and barely evading his swinging arms. Jin regards you with eyes on the verge of dislodging from their sockets, his face red with exertion and veins popping in his neck. And then his gaze drops down to his trouser leg.

Instantly, the fight leaves you when you notice the most exquisite beetle you have ever had the fortune to lay eyes upon. Gaze filled with wonder, you instantly drop to a crouch and stretch your hand towards Jin’s leg, allowing the tiny creature to disembark from the dark grey fabric onto your outstretched hands. The sight of it brings back fond memories instantly, of playing in the sunshine with Taehyung, chasing such beetles in the hopes that you could keep them as pets. The term for them was “rabjou” but Taehyung and you had dubbed them “gem bugs”, for the shimmering structures that protruded from their carapaces, catching the light and scattering it in the way that a precious diamond might. You observe the shimmering ruby carapace as the beetle makes a slow march across your index finger, before turning to Jin excitedly, momentarily forgetting his odd behaviour.

“Look Jin!” You cry, holding the beetle close to him until he nearly goes cross-eyed trying to keep it in sight. “It’s a gem bug! Like the ones we used to play with when we were kids-“

“He doesn’t look so good.” Jungkook notes suddenly, in the same moment that Jin’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he crumbles in a faint. You barely have time to catch him with one arm, holding the other aloft in an attempt to protect the gembug, and it is then that you recall why Jin is not in any of your memories of the time spent chasing these bugs.

Because he’s deathly afraid of any and all bugs.

The bug spreads it’s wings and quickly alights from its perch upon your finger, leaving you to clean up the aftermath of its presence. You stare in horror, wondering how to handle this situation, but Jin starts to rouse a few moments later, much to your relief. His eyelids flutter and his head lolls in your arms. He blinks a few moments, staring up at you with bleary, disorientated eyes. A puzzled, dopey smile curls at his lips. But then full consciousness hits and his eyes bulge with horror.

And then he’s scrambling away from you like he’s been burnt by you. You didn’t even know the crab-like scurry he does backwards out of your arms was physically possibly. His eyes are so wide and panicked that for a second you think that maybe the bug has returned. But after a quick check over of your body for any unusual flashes of red, you realise that it’s you that Jin stares at with such alarm and panic.

Something in you feels like it shrivels. Maybe it’s your heart. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact emotion. But just a few days ago, you had finally felt like things could be patched up between you and Jin, but now that he’s acting like this... maybe the gap is insurmountable. Maybe there’s just been too much damage. Maybe there’s no avoiding losing Jin from your life. You haven’t felt this hopeless since that incident in highschool all those years ago.

Jungkook lands on your shoulder and quirks an eyebrow when he notices the hurt expression on your face.

“Why do you look like that?” He asks, ignoring Jin who is busying himself with getting to his feet and brushing the dirt from his clothes.

“Like what?” You ask, quickly angling your head away.

“I dunno... like you’re constipated or something.” He observes. “Or like someone punched you in the stomach.”

You bite your lip as you gather yourself. Jin has turned away with Jungkook’s observation. You are probably pulling that face because you are upset. But there’s no use in being hurt or frustrated by Jin’s actions- you need to understand them. You’ve spent long enough sitting and moping and being miserable, and you know now that the only way the two of you are going to get through this is if you don’t let his odd behaviour slide. You square your shoulders and stare at Jin, long and hard. His shoulders have gone tense and his back is facing you- you can see the tension written into every line of his posture.

“Because I’m upset.” You announce assertively. You whirl on Jin, then. “What’s wrong with you?” You demand. Jin shoots a furtive glance at you and shoves his hands deep in his pockets.

“Nothing.” He mumbles. “It was a bug.” His gaze flicks to Jungkook, who watches him curiously. You have a feeling Jin’s not talking about the gem bug. Annoyed, you step forward and press a hand onto Jin’s shoulder, forcing him to turn and face you. He avoids your gaze though- his eyes dart around like a they’re in a pinball machine, despite your best efforts to look him in the eye.

“Jin.” You call sternly, folding your arms in what you hope is an imposing posture. Jungkook sits cross-legged on your shoulder with his ankles grasped in his hands. He looks like he’s watching an entertaining soap opera. “You need to explain. Why are you acting like this? You’re cranky with Jungkook and you’re treating me like I have the plague. Are you... are you still mad about the stuff we talked about the other night?” Your tone wavers just a little. Jin’s eyes widen and he meets your gaze. He looks so uncertain when he does so- nothing at all like the confident, clever Jin you’ve known all your life. It makes you pause. “Did... did I do something wrong?” You question and he hangs his head, scrubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

“No! Nothing like that. I’m... I’m sorry if it feels that way.” He corrects hastily. “I just...” he buries his face in his hands and the tips of his ears go red, before he raises his gaze to glare openly at Jungkook. “Jungkook made a stupid joke and I was trying to prove him wrong. I’m sorry- it was stupid of me to take it out on you.”

You blink in confusion, while Jungkook starts snickering at Jin. You pluck Jungkook off your shoulder by the back of the tiny hoodie he’s chosen to wear today so that you can stare at him. He dangles from between your thumb and forefinger.

“What’d you say?” You question suspiciously. Jungkook shrugs and grins like you’ve just gotten him a great Christmas present. He makes no effort to break free from your hold.

“Just wanted to know when the wedding is.” He says, and he still finds the joke as funny as the first time he said it. You stare blankly at him, however.

“What wedding? My mum’s?” You ask. Jungkook’s jaw drops.

“No!” He cries out, as if the idea is offensive to him. “Yours! With Jin!”

Jin has dropped his gaze and glows an interesting shade of red, and you can’t say you understand the situation.

“We aren’t getting married though?” You point out. You shoot a look at Jin and the tips of his ears are nearly purple. They only tend to go that colour when he is really, truly embarrassed, and rare are the situations where Jin is embarrassed. “Are we?”

Jin splutters in horror for a few moments.

“Absolutely not!” He blurts, the words choked and frantic. You’re taken aback by his vehemence. Is the concept really that horrifying? You shake the thought off as quickly as it comes and instead focus on the matter at hand; Jin was acting strangely because he was trying to prove he has no romantic feelings for you, it seems. Which... you already knew that. You’ve known that since you were in high school. You hate recalling that incident, but in that moment, it resurfaces despite your best efforts.

You had overheard him having a conversation with some of the other seniors in your school about how you how you have the same amount of appeal as an un-toilet trained puppy. Strictly “not girlfriend” material. It wasn’t a life-changing revelation or anything. And it’s not like you’d had feelings for him at the time. But you can’t deny that things had changed since that day. Jin had firmly been rooted in ‘strictly friends’ territory, and you’d been very, very careful to never let him out of the box he had placed himself in. And you’d done a really good job of never letting the memory bother you- after all, you’d long ago shirked the embarrassment and sadness of that day, and it annoys you that all these years later Jin is resurfacing the feelings of that time when you’re trying. so. hard. to fix things between you. You blink back the hurt tears that threaten to well in your eyes. You’re better than this- and you’ve never wanted him in that way, anyway. At least not since you’d overheard that conversation, you hadn’t.

“You could have just said something.” You mutter resentfully, and even you are surprised at the barely suppressed anger in your tone. Jin whips up his head like he’s been electrocuted. “Like I get it. I’m not girlfriend material. I’m not... I’m not trying to be your girlfriend anyway. And Jungkook’s a dummy who likes to push your buttons. You... I’ve been sitting here panicking over what I could have done wrong and it’s because I’m that gross to you that you need to prove to Jungkook of all people that you don’t like me?”

“Wait-“ Jin protests. “I didn’t mean it like that- I just-“

“It’s fine.” You cut him off and to be honest, you can’t really articulate why you’re so torn up over that. It’s not like he even did anything that bad. Just like that incident, back in highschool- he hadn’t said anything bad. He just pulls away when you touched him. He has just been making it very clear how he feels about you. But... it just feels like so much more than something simple as him not wanting to touch you. It’s not like you’re new to the idea anyway. A lot of girls in highschool and a lot of Jin’s girlfriends have always been jealous of your friendship with him and have been quick to point out the ways in which he clearly views you as a friend. And it’s not like you wanted anything more. Or well, maybe a small part of you did, but you were also smarter than that. You had better things to worry about then the fact that Jin doesn’t like you. And everything you’re doing is because you want him back as a friend. You’re not greedy. But... something still hurts. Even after all these years. Even hearing it afresh. “Just forget it. It’s not a big deal. We can just... go back to normal.”

Not that you even know what normal is with Jin at the moment. Everything is so off-kilter and you’re so confused by everything. You swallow deeply, willing the hurt feelings away.

“(Y/N),” Jin calls guiltily.

You wince- not because of the tone of his voice, however. You wince because in the next moment you feel a weird stabbing sensation in the side of your neck. Confused, you raise your hand to your neck. What you find there is an odd, feathered device, tapered to a sharp point that is currently speared into the muscle of your neck. Jin’s eyes widen as he stares as it, and you pull it from your neck. You wince as blood droplets start to flow down the side of your neck. The feathers are a brilliant red, the colour of blood, and the thin pointed tip glistens with your blood. You’ve never seen anything like it, and a weird nauseous feeling floods through you, starting at the wound in the side of your neck and flushing outwards.

“Is that...” Jungkook questions, but then Jin is interrupting him with a pained cry. He flinches violently as a feather device whistles through the air and lodges in the side of his neck. He mirrors your actions- he plucks it from his neck and scrutinises it. You don’t think he’s realised it, but he’s started to sway a bit, much like you have. The nauseous feeling worsens, and Jin has gone pale.

“I think it’s a…” Jin trails away, squinting his eyes and shaking his head as he struggles to focus on it. His voice starts to slur. “It’s a tranquiliser dart-“

The three of you exchange fearful glances and that’s really all you have time to do before your vision swims. And then everything goes black.

When you come to, you are instantly struck with the thought that there have been far too many kidnappings on this trip. You groan in pain, your head still swimming, and find that you have been restrained. Blinking open your eyes, you’re in some kind of encampment- the ground is thick and sponge-y and the houses seem to be made from woven twigs. If you had to describe it… they were almost like birds’ nests. The area is darkened- the foliage here is thicker and almost entire blocks out any light. Lanterns of blues and pinks line the path to compensate for the lack of light. On the edge of the area you see a muddy creek curling around the encampment. It’s more swamp-y than the forest you lost consciousness in.

Behind you, Jin also groans, and that’s when you realise you’ve been tied so you’re back to back with him. Neither of you can move your arms. And there’s a noticeable lack of the sound of fluttering wings. Your eyes go wide.

“Jin,” You gasp in horror. He grunts, trying to adjust his position so he’s more comfortable but he just ends up pushing you forwards. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“The pixie is here.” An unfamiliar, high-pitched voice calls. Your eyes widen at the interruption, and you turn your head to find a humanoid figure. Well, humanoid in that it stands on two legs and seems to have functioning arms. But if you were being pedantic about what living creature it resembles, you would have to say it’s more birdlike. Complete with a thick, yellow-ish beak like it’s an eagle, and brightly coloured plumage coating its entire body, apart from the white feathered head. It wears clothes- loose, airy fabrics like it’s straight out of a live-action adaptation of Aladdin, in a rich purple that compliments the bright red of its feathers. A brilliant plume of feathers sprouts from the top of its head and flows downwards like a waterfall. And held aloft in a clawed hand, protruding from the appendage that is a weird cross of an arm and a wing, is a small glass jar, with Jungkook snoozing obliviously within its depths.

“Jungkook!” You cry. Your eyes widen in horror. You immediately begin to scrabble around wildly, but with your arms pinned to your side with the coarse rope, and your back planted against Jin’s, you realise you aren’t going anywhere any time soon. You gaze around the camp, suddenly aware that this bird creature is not the only one- the sensation of being watched creeps along your skin and dozens of pairs of golden eyes peer at you, concealed safely in the shadows of the camp.

“Give him back!” You demand. Your feet stir up the soft, loamy soil you are seated upon as you kick about wildly, trying to stand, or loosen the bindings that hold you in place. Jungkook is no doubt the most annoying being in existence, but he’s also a precious friend and you couldn’t stand if anything happened to him.

“Calm down, Guardian.” The imposing, birdlike creature calls. “We will return this creature to you, eventually. We needed some leverage for you to hear out our request, for we knew we could not bind you for long.”

And it’s right- already with your frantic flailing, the ropes have started to fray and stretch. Jin does not seem to be as panicked as you, but he does remain still in a way that allows you to pull forward against the bindings, stretching them forward.

“Will you hurt him?” You demand. The bird-like creature turns sharp, hawklike eyes to the jar, peering curiously at the unconscious pixie.

“We will hurt him if you give us reason to hurt him.” It finally answers, tilting its head at you. The move is quick and fluid, like the way an owl’s head flicks around easily as it watches for prey.

“Hypothetically,” Jin cuts in quickly. “What would it take for you to deal with him without a reason from us? Just hypothetically.”

His back is to you, so he doesn’t see the way you glare, but you quickly turn your attention back to the bird-person, gazing up with imploring eyes.

“Anything. We’ll do anything- please. Don’t hurt him.” You beg. You are surprised by the ferocity of the protectiveness you now feel. The only time you have felt a similar amount of concern for him is the time he almost got eaten by a dog. The bird-creature glares down at you for a moment, still dangling the jar with Jungkook in it by the handle. It then combs its claws before the brilliant crest of feathers that flows from the top of its head and cascades down its body like a ponytail and steps forward. It crouches down low until it is eye-level with you.

“The two of you have brought the Saishtas into our territory.” It informs you. “And the Forest Spirit hates Saishtas. They are a foul, disrespectful beast and have been corrupting our swamplands.”

You cower away slightly- the sharp tip of the beak that hovers centimetres from the bridge of your nose could easily gouge out your eye and you’d be defenceless to stop it if this creature choose to do such a horrible thing. You can feel the way Jin’s back has gone rigid with tension behind you.

It straightens then, walking around the two of you to peer curiously at Jin. You crane your neck, trying to keep it in sight, but you can’t turn your head around far enough. Instead you feel Jin flinch.

“Our chief went to placate the Forest Spirit, and she has been taken captive. Luckily for us, two guardians came stumbling in our territory like it were designed by the fates.” It comes back around to face you and folds its feathered arms. The feathers flare outwards like sleeves of a baggy coat. “Rescue her, and we will return your… pixie to you.”

You glare at the creature, staring forlornly at Jungkook. It’s a dangerous request this bird is making. In theory, you could probably snap these ropes with enough exertion and make a grab for Jungkook. But you do not know why he is asleep or what measures they have put in place to ensure you can’t take Jungkook back by force. And you can’t risk his safety.

“What if we don’t want the pixie bac-“ Jin starts, but is quickly cut off by you throwing your head back to headbutt the back of his head. “Ouch! I just meant hypothetically- I was reviewing all our options before we-“

“We’ll do it.” You say hastily. “We agree to your terms. We’ll rescue your chief. Just please… don’t hurt him.”

Something in the posture of the bird-creature softens.

“Of course we get captured by Psittanurans.” Jin mutters resentfully as the creature, a Psittanuran if Jin is to be trusted, bows deeply to you. “Just our luck.”

“You have our word.” The Psittanuran informs you, ignoring Jin’s mumble. “We will not allow harm to come to the pixie, so long as you do not allow harm to come to our chief.”

It makes an odd, clicking noise, snapping its beak together and two more Psittanurans appear, wielding knives. They are in similar attire, brightly coloured, airy clothes, but all are in slightly different colours. One’s feathers are warm, an earthy brown with a deep pink plume of feathers atop the crown of its head, while the other is a midnight blue, like a peacock. They make quick work of releasing the bindings around you, and you and Jin quickly get to your feet. Jin rubs at his arms, looking quite sulky- he’s probably upset over being kidnapped yet again.

You glare at the main bird, the instigator, as it steps out towards you and reaches a clawed talon towards you. It presses the tip to your forehead, and you wince at the slight pressure.

And then your eyes widen as images flood your head- a dark cave, a bone white cliffside, their chief held captive, and Saishtas, lurking behind every corner. And the whole time, an overcast presence lurking behind every step of the journey- you can feel its churning fury, bubbling beneath the surface, and you shudder. When you open your eyes, the Psittanuran gazes down at you curiously.

“Do you understand what you must do?” It asks. Your heartbeat is in your throat and you’ve broken out in a cold sweat- you are not sure you have the strength to overcome this beast, let alone rescue the chief. Your gaze flicks to Jungkook, who has been so soundly asleep that you suspect it is actually some form of enchantment that keeps him slumbering.

Jin must sense your fear because you feel his hand slip into yours. His palms are slick with sweat, and there’s a slight shake to them. You realise then that he’s been absolutely terrified this whole time. You spare him a glance, and he meets your eyes head on.

You don’t know why, but you feel your heartbeat calm when he meets your eyes. It’s an impossible, terrifying task before you, but he’ll be beside you the whole time. That’s what the look in his eyes reassures you. No matter what happens or has happened between you, despite your fight, despite the weird state of things right now, Jin will be by your side.

You swallow deeply and nod at the Psittanuran.

“I do.” You solemnly agree, unsure what the journey ahead may bring.

But you have to save Jungkook.

#castlebangtan #thebtswritersclub #kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #writing

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ieattaperecorders · 3 years

Text

Notes on Causality - Chapter 2: Georgie and Elias

An addendum to Something's Different About You Lately. Small scenes of Jon attempting to change the future that I didn't want to put in the larger fanfic.

The events of this chapter take place around the end of Chapter 8, Stranger.

(Incidentally, the main fic will be updated very soon. I'm mainly just holding off till the finale drops, in case whatever happens makes me want to tweak anything mood-wise in what I have planned.)

Read on Ao3

- - -

One ring. Another. Then another. Maybe she wouldn't pick up, Jon thought, drumming his fingers on the desk. Maybe it would go to voicemail . . . he could hang up, try again later. Take a little time to mentally rehearse what he would say.

A click, and her voice asked, "hello?"

"Georgie . . . it's Jon Sims, from Oxford?"

"Jon? Hey, been a while! How've you been?"

"Ah – good? I've been good," he lied. "Yourself?"

"Oh, not bad. Got a new roommate since you last saw me . . . he lays around the apartment all day and won't share the rent, but he's cute so I let it slide."

"Good to hear that your landlord is cat-friendly."

"You should hear him, he has the loudest little meow. Hang on, I'll if he'll say hello . . . ."

For a moment and he heard some vague coaxing noises, distant as if she was holding her phone away from herself. They were followed by a close-up, disinterested sniff, then Georgie's voice returned.

"Ah, never mind. Not in the mood, I guess."

"I've heard the Admiral's color commentary before," he smiled. "He's in all your mailbag episodes."

"Didn't know you were a listener."

"Well, I need something for the commute . . . it might as well be the UK's most onomatopoeic source of paranormal research."

"Ha. Knew you'd hate the sound effects."

"I don't hate them. Anyway, they're . . . distinctive," he leaned back in his office chair, the nerves he'd built up slowly dissipating as they fell into the rhythm of conversation. "They're very you."

"Classic Barker." There was movement in the background, and a few soft thuds. Likely the Admiral jumping to the floor. "Well from what I hear, we're in the same field. Aren't you working for the Magnus Institute now? You must hear plenty of ghost stories there."

"That's actually sort of why I called. I think we might have a mutual colleague . . . Melanie King?"

"Yeah, she's the one who told me you were there," she said knowingly. "Sounded like you left a hell of an impression on her."

". . . Not a good one, I imagine."

Georgie made a non-committal sound, being decent enough not to rub it in by overtly agreeing with him.

"I was trying to be helpful, but I think I just came off as dismissive. Ended up arguing with her over nothing," he sighed. ". . . Classic Sims."

"Accept no substitutes," Georgie said fondly. "So, what's the call about? If you want me to try smoothing things over with her –"

"It isn't that. Did she tell you about her experience?"

"Not really. Asked a lot about Sarah – she's a sound tech I recommended to her? Got the impression she'd been unreliable. She was nice about it, Melanie that is, but really evasive. I just assumed she's caught onto something interesting and wants to be the first to report on it. The risks of being friends with competition, I suppose."

"Ah. . . ."

"Not that she has anything to worry about. Climbing fences and squatting in abandoned churches is her thing. I'm all about doing research from my computer desk with a cup of tea, personally," she paused, and he heard a distant clink of ceramic. "Hey, are we even allowed to talk about this? Isn't there some sort of confidentially thing?"

"As it turns out, privacy isn't really something this place values," he muttered, "I don't suppose she's talked to you recently?"

"No . . . not for a couple of months."

"I'm concerned. Her experience left a powerful impact on her. Now she's chasing after anything that might bring her closer to what she encountered, and I'm afraid she doesn't care about the cost. She's going into some dangerous territory. And, well . . . it's not my place to judge her emotional state. But I am worried."

"Yeah . . . I saw the memes," he heard a frown enter Georgie's voice.

"I've tried to talk to her about it, a bit. But she and I always seem to push each other's buttons somehow. I'd be grateful if you looked in on her. I think that she could use a friend right now, and –" he smirked. "I happen to know you're good with obsessive types too stubborn for their own well-being."

"Ha. You trying to set me up or something?"

"Wh–" he started, taken aback. "I mean, well, that's really your business, not mine."

". . . Wait. I was joking, but are you really?" There was utter incredulity in her voice. "Jonathan Sims, did you call me out of the blue to set me up with someone I knew before you did?"

"Of – Georgie I don't even know if you're single, don't be ridiculous," he sputtered, feeling blood rise to his face. She laughed, and the uncomfortable heat spread.

"Okay, okay," she said. "I'm just giving you a hard time."

"I just . . . " he spoke slowly, trying to be precise. "I think that Melanie needs someone else around her right now. Someone grounding. If you're not looking to take that on, I understand, of course. But for whatever it might be worth, I would be grateful if you checked in."

"I'll give her a ring," something in Georgie's voice was familiar, and profoundly comforting. "See if she wants to get coffee and talk spooky-shop."

"I think that might do her a world of good," he said with relief

"Also? We should get coffee sometime too, catch up! I want to hear all the creepy stories you're apparently so free to talk about."

"Really, it's mostly drug experiences and conspiracy theories . . . ."

"Even better, I'll get to hear you complain. Then I'll be entitled gripe to you about all the weird emails I get. It'll be perfect."

Jon wanted to say yes. He really, really did. The thought of sitting down for a few hours with Georgie and talking about nothing particularly dire was a nice one. But he could only bring trouble to her door.

"I'd . . . like that," he said, "But I don't have much time to myself right now . . . maybe after everything calms down."

". . . Sure," she sounded a little disappointed. Georgie could always tell when he was brushing her off. "Some other time. Hope you can get some rest, then."

"I'll do my best."

"And thanks for the heads-up about Melanie. Really," the smile in her voice was back. "Don't be a stranger, huh?"

"Right," he smiled back, hoping she could hear it. "Ah. Goodbye, then."

"Bye."

He stared at the screen of his phone, not sure what to name the feeling in his chest. In his mind's eye, he saw her form vanishing down a long white corridor, and he knew she would have made this choice herself, eventually. He was just respecting that. Speeding things along.

"Trying to set her up . . . honestly," he muttered.

What he'd said about Melanie needing someone to talk to had been true. He was hoping Georgie's influence could nudge her away from the path she was on, one that had its natural end in blood and pain and the drumming of war. It was hardly his fault if he knew that particular matchmaking arrangement had already worked out once.

The call had barely ended for a minute before his phone vibrated with an email notification. He opened it, frowning when he saw who it was from.

Jon,

See me in my office at your earliest convenience.

Also, in the future please remember not to make personal calls during work hours.

- Elias

It was the most direct contact he'd had with Elias in months. Aside from a few institute-wide emails, there had been nothing since their conversation about the recordings. Jon hadn't even run into him in the hall. At least on the surface, he'd stuck to his promise to involve himself less directly. Not that Jon imagined Elias was truly keeping his distance, but he had begun to get comfortable with not having to see or talk to him. He dreaded the idea of going up there and actually breaking the silence.

That comment about personal calls irked him, too. He was taunting him. Going right up to the edge of admitting he'd been watching while giving himself just a little deniability.

He could ignore it, of course. Why should he do anything Elias asked him to, however small? Why should he make any part of his life easier? But that wasn't a smart attitude, he knew. Elias was keeping his distance for now, but if he saw Jon as too troublesome things would escalate. It would be foolish to bring that moment any closer by antagonizing him over nothing.

Jon still remembered the comment he'd made when they last spoke – I'm sure one of your assistants would be up to the task. If it came down to it, Elias knew exactly whose throats to hold the knife against.

With a distinct lack of pleasure, he climbed the stairs out of the archive.

Despite his mood he smiled at Rosie, tried to seem friendly as he greeted her. The words insecure and aggressive had a tendency to turn over in his mind when he saw her lately. He was earnestly hoping to be easier to talk to, but fairly sure he just came off as awkward. At least she was friendly with him. But then, she'd always been.

She said he was expected and should go right inside.

Elias was at his desk, writing on something hidden inside a folder. He glanced up and nodded as he entered.

"Ah, Jon. Sit down, I'll just be a moment."

As he took a seat and waited, Jon couldn't quite banish the idea that the folder was just a prop. A way to make whoever he'd called in wait, to make it absolutely clear how much more valuable his time was than theirs. Or perhaps to give them time to stew, to sit in anxiety and worry. Then again, maybe Elias really did have paperwork that needed doing, and the fact that it was absolutely, positively maddening to sit there in silence and watch him was only a bonus to it all. Eventually, he finished.

"It's been a while since we've checked in, hasn't it?" he paused just long enough for Jon to wonder if he was supposed to respond, then continued. "I'd like to hear your version of how the last few months have gone. What sort of progress you feel you've made, etcetera."

Oh, God. Was he actually expecting Jon to keep up the pretense of doing actual archival work? He hadn't been prepared for that at all, and felt preemptively exhausted at the thought of coming up with some nonsense progress report.

"Well. . . as you know, Gertrude left the archives in a state of serious disorganization, so progress has been hindered by that," he tried to remember what projects he'd put the others on to keep them all going with a token show of work. "I've set aside a section for discredited statements, which has been steadily growing. I imagine . . . it will make things more efficient for researchers in the future? And, uh . . . ."

"Let me stop you there," Elias said, holding up a hand.

Please do, Jon thought, relieved he wouldn't be subjecting them both to several minutes of this. Elias leaned forward and looked at him seriously.

"Have I done something to offend you, Jon?"

The question took him by surprise, to the point where he had to bite back a sarcastic laugh. What hadn't he done? "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Really. Because it seems to me that I've be extremely generous to you," that familiar tone of disapproval, of bland impatience. "I've given you a unique opportunity, allowed you free reign in setting your own priorities, and you still seem determined to resent me."

Fleetingly, Jon wondered if the elaborately decorated letter opener on the desk between them was sturdy enough to sink into Elias's chest without snapping. Not worth it, either way. Not with what it would cost.

"I . . . apologize if I've created that impression," he said evenly. "I've been told that I can be standoffish in my manner."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Elias smirked. "Though ‘standoffish' is a great deal more polite than the words people actually favor. Isn't it?"

Jon tried not to look away, tried and failed to meet Elias's eyes. Perhaps his inability to maintain eye contact with a conduit of the Beholding spoke well for his remaining humanity, but it still twisted in him. Made him feel weak.

"Are we done here?" he asked, voice tight.

Elias sighed, as if all of this was such a burden to him, as if he wasn't basking in the anxiety that Jon knew must be radiating off of him like heat.

"What was it you said to Martin . . . about discarding the facade once it stopped being useful?" That startled Jon enough to look back, to see the condescending smile on Elias's face as he continued. "Maybe you ought to do the same."

He stared, suddenly voiceless, heart pounding. This was it . . . should he be relieved or terrified?

"I've been where you are now, Jon." Elias continued. His voice was stern, with only the barest concession to false sympathy. "Trapped in a world that no longer makes sense, surrounded by malevolent forces, seeing enemies everywhere. And I can tell you that the only way to survive in this world is to recognize what resources you have."

". . . Resources."

"Yes, if you could just get past this irrational distrust you seem to have of me. I can't hold your hand through everything. But if you have questions . . . I might be able to give you some answers."

Answers? That would make a change from before, Jon thought bitterly. The Elias he remembered used misdirection, contempt and sometimes flat refusal to avoid giving Jon any information he could hope to use. Unfortunately there was only one question Jon really had for him anymore, and it was one he couldn't ask: how much do you know?

. . . Did Elias have that same question for him? It would explain why he was directly inviting him to ask about his situation.

Jon paused. He had to be smart about this. If Elias had sat him down like this before, he'd have wanted to know everything. If he didn't seem curious, it might point to how much he already knew, and that would be disastrous. But he also couldn't look too naive . . . he'd made his suspicion clear, already warned the others, he couldn't pretend to know nothing about the Institute's nature.

He tried to think back to when he was only just getting a sense of the way things truly were. What would he have most wanted to understand then?

". . . What happens to me," he asked quietly. "When I read statements? The real ones. You know what I mean. I can feel something happening, I know it's not just reading."

"The answer to that is rather complicated . . . ."

"Are you going to give it to me?"

"It would help if I understood what you already knew. How much did Gertrude tell you about the nature of this place? The Institute?"

"Enough to know I can't trust it," he glared across the desk. "And maybe the reason I don't trust you is because you're constantly peering over my shoulder."

"You must have some sense by now of the dangers the Institute attracts," Elias raised his eyebrows. "Can you really blame me for wanting to keep tabs on everything?"

"Because you ‘keeping tabs' was so helpful when I was pulled into those hallways for weeks."

"You opened the door of your own free will. I do what I can but I can hardly be expected to protect you from yourself."

"You're the reason I'm here in the first place! You've been--"

Jon cut himself off, he could feel himself beginning to shout, losing control of himself and it was stupid, so stupid. What was the point in arguing with him? Jonah Magnus knew exactly what he was doing, he wasn't going to be shamed about it.

"It doesn't matter," he said, trying to gather himself back to a neutral tone. "Can't change the past."

". . . For what it's worth, Jon, I do sympathize," Elias said, folding his hands. "Someone has to be the Archivist. You were just the best option available."

Why had he thought he could play along with this? As if he'd really be able to sit there, feign ignorance and draw information out of a man who'd been doing that exact thing to others for centuries. He wasn't going to beat him at his own game . . . far more likely he'd let something slip out of anger that would get somebody killed.

He pushed his chair back and stood, turning towards the door.

"I'll find my own answers," he said.

* * *

The door slammed shut, loud enough to echo. Jonah supposed he was going to have to get used to outbursts like these.

"I expect that you will," he muttered to the closed door.

Blind spots. He didn't like blind spots. Sometimes they were unavoidable, but having one so near to him was profoundly irritating. It was like knowing he'd forgotten something important, but being unable to dredge up any details.

He could watch Jon as easily as anyone else. Though there were moments his gaze would unfocus, and he suspected Gertrude might have taught him a few of her tricks, overall it wasn't hard to keep an eye on him. But lately, that was all he could do. No matter how he tried, he couldn't Know anything deeper than what appeared on the surface. He might as well have been following the Archivist around with a camera crew rather than channeling the overwhelming power of an Eternal and Unblinking Gaze From Which No Secrets Can Be Kept, for all the good it was doing him.

It was as if the knowledge was all there, but had been shifted somehow. Nudged just outside his field of vision.

A part of him was tempted to start over with another Archivist, one he could See more clearly. But the Web mark was hard to find, and he couldn't even be sure this anomaly was unique to Jon – that it would go away with his death instead of attaching itself to his successor. Despite its frustrating obscurity, something about it that felt like an aspect of the Beholding, though he couldn't say why.

So he'd tolerate the blind spot for now. At least Jon was easy enough to read without the Eye's assistance – the man wore his heart on his sleeve, was helpless in that way. Jonah liked that about him.

What he needed was encouragement. Something to get him out of his comfort zone – four marks was progress, but not fast enough, not with the Unknowing looming closer every day. Jonah wrote a quick note on a post-it and stuck it to the folder in front of him, then pressed a button on his intercom.

"Rosie?" he said, "I need you to run something down to the archive for me. Just drop it on Tim's desk, he'll know what it's for."

#tma fanfic #tma time travel au #sdayl

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