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erinomeumbriel · 1 year

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Chapter 1

“Blyat, I did it again!” A woman in her early 20s yelped in distress, another mistake was made again within the last 30 minutes, as she accidentally knocked out a pile of paperworks by her office table, this was the fifth time she did comprising the mentioned time, one that kept happening due the way her desk is full of other business that she needed to do. Absolutely, she’s stressed to the boot and yet, she can’t complain when she knows that the job she chose wasn’t that of an easy-going one. There’s a lot to do, and it doesn't help matters when she’s feeling so stressed and annoyed by the unfortunate happenings that seem to be targeted towards her and her only.

Y/n could only scowl and lean down from her seat to collect the papers that fell, did she absolutely want to rip it apart, every time she went through pages and pages her resentment grew and grew more to the point she had to take a deep breath to stop herself from going berserk. She almost slammed the papers back to her desk the moment she was finished, instead she decided to focus on the dossier at hand so she can finally move on to the other ones. However, before she could even lay her eyes on it, someone knocked at her office.

It’s either someone who just wants a chat or another work incoming. Y/n prayed to heavenly deities that it was not the case.

“Who is it?” She slumped in her swivel chair. This time she’s adamant that fate doesn’t want her to finish her work and this time too, she’s given up on trying. Mental health is important, that’s her work’s motto, but fate sure is determined to deplete Y/n’s sanity little by little.

"It's me, Mario." A gruff voice said,muffled by the door that's between him and Y/n. She slumped further but fixed herself to make herself presentable in front of the higher up. Despite knowing that it is indeed another work incoming, she can't exactly sulk. That would cause her superiors to be disappointed, or worse, fire her. Yes, they're indeed petty, like everyone else.

"Ah Sir Mario, the door's open." Y/n answered after mentally and physically preparing herself. Like the professional person she is, she turned on her business smile, one that she mastered for over the years she worked under the Security unit. It was fake but real and polite enough in the eyes of the receiver, one that covers her irritation and shows none other than customer service attitude.

It works every time.

A black-haired, tall man in his 40s entered, wearing the similar white coat Y/n is wearing but instead of wearing formal suits, he has blue medical scrubs on. He must've just finished a job, probably another patient going into a manic state. She has that theory seeing the scary Red liquid staining his coat, must’ve been a violent one. It happens like a cycle and Y/n is thankful that her job doesn't require capturing and tranquilizing poor patients. If she was in the job, she would've been sent to the ground in a minute and cry her eyes out. Sometimes she wonders why she even considered working in a building full of psychos and violent people. Some aren’t that bad as they’re just depressed suffering people but the others, not that saintly. But does she really have a choice considering that there’s not many places that offer such a generous salary?

"Another patient?" Y/n asked, talking about the scratches in his arms and Mario grunted, meaning yes. Of course, he was grumpy. Now Y/n thinks that her misfortune is nothing compared to this man's. Mario had a portfolio in his hand, another delivery from the higher ups. Geez, if they want to give work, why don't they give it to her personally instead of making poor, tired Mario deliver it to her?

"Got set off by another crazy fucker, then boom, he started to go hysterical and throw food trays. When we tried to calm him down, he pulled a fork out of nowhere and stabbed a security guard in his hand." Now that's a lot of mess and now that’s where the blood came from. Yikes. She winced just thinking about how messy the cafeteria was and how chaotic and hard it would be to tranquilize the man. And before Y/n can ask another question, Mario almost placed the folder on the table when his eyes landed on the piles of dossiers. With that, he raised his eyebrows and looked a bit reluctant to even put down the paper in the never-ending pile. Y/n appreciated the action and pity.

“Are you finished with work?” Mario asked reluctantly, eyeing the tiredness in her actions and the way her office table was almost filled to the brim, the stacks threatening to fall with just one flick. One more paper added to the pile and it would fall over. Y/n, ever the typical tired worker she is, didn’t have the courage to raise her eyebrow and say something sarcastic to the man. Obviously she isn’t finished, she hasn’t finished even thirds of it, but she decided that she is for today. It’s late and she would need to go home soon, so even if she fastened her pace it wouldn't be finished either way. She didn’t want to spend the night here either, someone might break in despite the tight security. It’s just her being paranoid but it’s better than nothing.

After much deliberation, she finally answered.

“Well, no but yes.” Mario didn’t bother questioning her vague response, knowing it's just the way she was. He shrugged. If he heard the word yes, then it's a yes. And thus he finally handed the files to Y/n, who slightly slumped at the sight of the portfolio. There goes another, another work added in the pile. Thankfully, there are no patients assigned for today or they would see how much of a stressed shitpile their psychiatrist really is. Y/n took the thick brown folder, already knowing it's a new patient assigned to her and a new problematic patient in the secure unit.

“This is directly from the higher ups. It seems like a high profile one this time.” Mario supplied as Y/n opened the portfolio with much curiosity. If it’s directly from them then she has no choice but to agree, things like this rarely come by. However she can’t help but feel scared as to what kind of person this upcoming patient is.

Immediately, her eyes gravitated towards the 1x1 picture at the top left side corner of the first page. To be frank, he doesn’t seem to be the type of guy to be admitted to such a place as a Secure unit. He just..looks a bit too clean and young, despite the fact Y/n saw some who are far too young and look a bit too innocent for their crimes. Her job doesn’t require prejudice and despite encountering so many unexpected people, she just couldn’t help it. His features weren't that of a man who is capable of the reason for admission written in his papers.

He has a Chocolate colored hair, Y/n feels dumb using that kind of comparison. However when she looked at his eyes properly, she reconsidered the innocent impression she had of him. His eyes can be compared to the color of a Red Tamarillo, empty and extremely flat, just looks lifeless and devoid of emotion. And his entire face, no matter how handsome he is, Y/n takes notes, there’s just no trace of emotion, just stoicness and nothing else. He gives absolutely nothing away with his nonexistent expression.

Y/n continued to read through his file. He’s currently in College and is intelligent as listed in his additional achievements. She's right he doesn’t seem to be the type of person to commit crimes but a lot of narcissists proved her wrong already. She continued reading through and she sucked a heavy breath in, it got her furrowing her eyebrow in confusion.

“Why isn’t he in jail?” Y/n questioned and Mario shrugged, “1st degree murder isn’t something to be taken lightly off.” She continued. Contrary to his appearance, this patient is ruthless, written in his reason for admission, he killed an assistant teacher in the college he attends. She was dismembered and had 100 stab wounds. The reason of death was blood loss and a fatal wound to the throat, there could be a possibility that the victim was alive during the dismemberment, Y/n prayed that the poor soul wasn’t.

“He has Alexithymia.” Mario supplied, Y/n was about to retort when Mario raised his arm to signal her to stop talking as he’s not finished yet, “I know, it’s not a mental illness and not enough to get you admitted here.” Mario spoke and heaved a sigh, taking the file and flipped it to a certain page before giving it back to her.

“But his lawyer pleaded insanity, what’s more crazy was that the judge and juries agreed to this.” Mario said while Y/n read through, immediately she saw the reason for this unfair trial, “His family is very wealthy and paid the entire court. So his appeal was sustained and given a very short sentence of 2 to 4 years of mandatory treatment at a mental hospital.”

“I’m guessing they paid the higher ups too. Considering it’s a direct order from them.” Y/n said and Mario nodded, “Their minds got muddled in the face of money huh.”

“Yes, and you have to accept this guy.” Mario said, waving his hand. Obviously, he was numb already when it comes to justice, most of the prisoners here are the reason. This new guy isn’t spared as an example either. In a place like this, there’s no hope for justice Y/n supposed.

“I’m not planning to, he’s going to be my last patient. Besides, the pay is good.” Y/n answered and Mario smiled and shook his head. That’s true, she’s planning to leave and take on another job that’s less mentally taxing and besides, she needs that money.

“And you said those lawyers and judges are money addicted.” Mario jokingly grumbled,clicking his tongue. But Y/n despite knowing it’s already a joke responded.

“There’s a difference! I’m doing my job while those men are being corrupt, two different shit.” She reasoned, crossing her arm. In her mind, she’s already planning treatments and how to talk with a killer she finds just reading about. It’s going to be hard with his lack of understanding of emotions so immediately making him feel guilty about his crime is going to be hard, but she doubts she needs to do that. She’ll be retired by the time this guy finishes his sentence either way. Though it’s a direct order from the upper ups so she at least needs to make an effort.

“Besides it’s a win-win situation, he has no real mental illness so I don’t have to do much. Just maybe, try to help him through his Alexithymia even if has no real treatment.” Y/n rambled on, considering the whole ordeal as easy money despite her fear. If the patient ever does something, there’s security just outside her door to protect her, no need to feel scared, yes.

“Try talking him out of his murderous thoughts too by the way, we can’t have him going out to kill again.” Mario added and Y/n nodded, this time determined.

“Of course! That’s already a given.”

“Your patient arrives by tomorrow, make sure to read the papers by then.” Mario stood up from his seat, which y/n never noticed he did, probably too preoccupied in thinking. Then he gestured to the piles of papers, making her panic because she needs to clean up first before taking a patient, “Oh also, make sure to clean your office or the guy will think you’re not worthy of a psychiatrist. You might lose the money, early graduate.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Y/n felt flattered everytime hearing that nickname, it was true that she’s an early graduate who was one of the youngest in their city to do so. Psychiatry needed 10 years or so of studying and so the average age of psychiatrists were that of 30, she’s one of the lucky ones to be in their 20s in the age of being licensed. She takes pride in her achievement.

“Goodluck.” Mario bid goodbye and soon Y/n was left in her own office. She leaned on her chair and sighed.

‘Evander Bonavich.’ That was his name. Evander will be her last patient.

“Oh! I still need to fix these!” In the end, she needed to post pawn work to clean her office and be appropriate for the future patient tomorrow.

#fanfic #x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yande.re #oc x reader #obsession #fanfiction #oc #scenarios #imagine

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watevermelon · 3 years

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Just Enough | Diluc (Genshin) x Traveler!Reader

✧ Summary: Between freeing Dvalin and pursuing the Geo Archon, you were constantly moving forward to find your brother with hardly a second to look back. You were in a rush to find your lost sibling, not realizing how your heart had stopped in Mondstadt. Visiting the city while waiting for things to die down after Rex Lapis’ death, you return to a… jealous Diluc?

➳ Spoilers for the Dark Knight Hero quest and some of the manga background ➳ Notes: lots of fluff, slight angst and jealousy, character development, mutual pining at one point, a long one-shot that covers the (1.0) beginning of the Liyue story ➳ Navigation

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If he had only asked you to stay.

To say that these past few weeks were a blur would be a severe understatement. For months you were simply a lost wanderer, traveling from world to world for any sort of clue that could lead you to your brother.

And in just a matter of weeks you were suddenly Mondstadt’s hero.

From bringing peace to Dvalin’s heart to meeting Mondstadt’s infamous Dark-knight hero, you were familiarizing yourself with a people and a place for a world you knew you did not belong to. Learning of the history of the Seven Archons, the Gods’ of contracts or of freedoms, suddenly you were being thrust into it all at once.

You shared the burden of knowledge with a few of Mondstadt’s elite, the true God of Freedom walking in plain sight to the citizens of his nation. And with him, were the quick allies you found side-by-side when fighting a dragon.

It was all happening so suddenly and Lord Barbatos himself was giving you directions to the next country over, to continue on your journey in meeting all seven Archons to Liyue.

To this day, you could fondly recall your final celebration in Mondstadt.

“To think that despite his small stature he can drink so much.” Kaeya commented from his seat at the table, eyes slid in the direction of Venti at the bar next to you. You could see the impatient stare behind Diluc’s eyes, not at all happy that their God was indulging himself so freely.

“Honorary Knight, Mondstadt thanks you for your service.” Jean formally stated, for the nth time since Dvalin had been freed.

“I’m just glad I was at the right place at the right time.” You answered back, offering a placating smile in return.

“Humility doesn’t pay for dinner!” Paimon hmphed next to you.

“But aren’t we at a feast now?” You countered, gesturing to the table.

She sighed again before moving to get a taste of some of the honey roasted ham. “Fine, don’t blame me when we have to settle into that poor excuse of a tent!”

“Please, do not feel you are in any rush to leave.” Jean offered, “You are welcome lodgings at our Favonius Headquarters.”

“With the other Knights of Favonius?” Diluc asked, face completely blank if not for the small upward tilt of his left brow.

Kaeya flirted with you from across the room, uncaring of the other partygoers, “You could always stay with me.”

You laughed lightly and responded, “That’s a hard pass.”

The Cavalry Captain simply shrugged, offering it to you again if you changed your mind before grabbing another glass of wine and walking with Jean toward the busy table.

Barbara was trying different dishes and offering some to her older sister, spouting descriptions with medicinal purposes and flavors that compliment one another. Lisa was no better as Amber egged both of them on, completely sober as she continued to feast on the food laid before her. Other Knights of Favonius that you recognized were scattered about, enjoying the first truly peaceful night in the past few weeks.

“You are welcome to stay at the Dawn Winery, while you look for your brother.”

He relished in the sight of your smile.

“Thank you, Diluc.”

That was three months ago.

And since then you had been thrown into more of not your business but suddenly IS your business, business.

You remembered your last day before setting off from Mondstadt. The Knights of Favonius would surely call on you again and so you had quick goodbyes with Jean and Kaeya the day before. Venti was saved for last, a somewhat light-hearted and yet somber goodbye as he was the first and last person for you to see in Mondstadt.

But Diluc… How could you even start that conversation?

He was the lone wolf with a prickly reputation and an even worse sense of patience. You remembered the first time you even spoke to him, clipped words meant to get straight to the point. Not to mention that he was the first person to antagonize Kaeya, who was one of the few people you kinda trusted in the beginning.

It was not until the side adventures, the little quests you did one-on-one that you realized how much more there was to the edgelord that was Diluc.

Of course, he was still the strict type to focus solely on the mission.

But you realized more about why Diluc had come to be this way.

‘The uncrowned king of Mondstadt.’

As you worked together against the possible abyss invasion of Mondstadt, you poured over strategies and testing of his slime potion. And while slimes were not the hardest enemies to fight, he still complimented you on your form and appreciated your quick style with the sword.

You had a unique style, unlike Kaeya or anyone else of this world.

“Elegant, but deadly.”

You took that as a compliment.

And little by little Diluc opened up to you, cluing you into his personal history.

He and Kaeya were step-brothers, growing up together at the Dawn Winery. How he knew Jean since he was child and once served as her superior in the very organization he now despised. How he still has things to protect, to avenge. And while his description about what happened to his father was nothing more than a quiet stare, you were still grateful that he was entrusting you into his world.

You remembered Kaeya’s words as he discovered Diluc’s nighttime secret:

“I’m glad you’re working with an assistant.”

Kaeya’s tone may have come out scathing, but you knew better. Kaeya and Diluc used to be close, close enough to entrust their lives with one another. There was no doubt that Kaeya still cared about his brother, but with Diluc pushing everyone away….

Again, you were so appreciative that he chose to let you in.

When Kaeya finally left the bar, you turned to Diluc with a smile. “I think my work tonight earned me at least one glass of wine?”

That broke a small smile on his face, not the slight tilt on the sides or the wistful, far off look he got when he recalled something beyond your knowledge.

“Alright.” He waved over a nearby waitress, all of the customers tonight employees of the Dawn Winery. “Let’s take this up to the balcony, I’m going to close up anyway.”

“Oh?” Paimon’s squeaky tone somehow went up another octave in curiosity, “I just remembered I have to ask Venti something! Why don’t you two enjoy your date alone.”

She flew away before you could swat at her for her teasing words, blush apparent on your face. Diluc kept his flat face as he maneuvered things behind the bar, wiping at something before putting something in the below cabinet.

To your surprise, he handed you a bottle and two glasses, motioning with his head toward the second floor. Charles was among some of the ‘customers’ tonight, taking his usual spot behind the bar as Diluc stepped out.

You followed him wordlessly, walking up the steps and out the second-floor door closely behind him. He pulled out a wooden chair next to the table outside, you taking the seat underneath the stars as he plopped down alongside you.

“I thought the stars here in the city would get overcrowded by the lights.” You admitted, “But they’re beautiful even here.”

“Yeah, they are.” Diluc agreed, making you smile before turning to him.

“You’re not even looking at the stars.”

The pyro-user simply smirked, before looking up at the starry sky with you. You relished in the moment, glad to have some time alone with Diluc. Many had commented that the winery owner was so elusive, missing from the bar weeks at a time and unseen within the city walls. And yet here he was, enjoying the crisp air and a glass of wine with you.

“Thank you.” You started.

“Shouldn’t you be demanding thanks from me?” Diluc asked.

You laughed lightly, “Yeah, cause I’m sure that the abyss mage would have totally kicked your ass without me.”

Diluc had that slightly amused expression on, looking a bit more light-hearted as he turned to you with a slight tilt at the corner of his lips.

You continued, “I mean, thanks for entrusting me with your secret.”

Diluc paused, looking you straight in the eyes, probably to gauge your honesty. And he would concede that there was nothing else there. You wanted to be his friend, the first in a long time to have approached him without your own agenda regarding either the winery or his fortune.

In return, he poured you a glass of wine and replied, “You’ve long earned it.”

“Thank you, Diluc.” You took the glass and felt your heart flutter at the brush of his fingers. “I’m glad I got to know you.”

“I’m glad you’re in my life too.”

He shot you another one of his genuine, millisecond smiles before pouring some from the bottle for himself.

“Wine and not grape juice today?”

But he did not answer, instead eyes latching onto the rise of goosebumps on your arms. You could not help it against the crisp Mondstadt air, naturally feeling a chill at this time of night. Without a word, he shrugged off his outer coat, the thick black one he wore at almost all times of day, and rested it casually on your shoulders.

You muttered a small thanks as you snuggled into it. Diluc’s iconic dark coat, a complete contrast to yourself. While you wore a white dress with open sleeves and plenty of skin, Diluc wore black covering most of his body with the exception of his neck and face. Seeing it on your shoulders only reminded you of that fact.

“Don’t need you getting sick anytime soon.” Diluc stated plainly, as he returned to his seat.

You huddled into it more and replied, “Aw, Diluc cares.” Again, you were rewarded with another flat expression. “Or rather, if the events of today are to show anything, you’ve always cared. Just in your own, protective way.”

He slung an arm across the back of your seat, leaning closer before stating in a low voice. “Don’t forget that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, the both of you basically sharing the same breath in your close proximity. His scarlet eyes, usually a searing color when on the battlefield, looked surprisingly tender only inches from yours.

“You mean so much to me, Diluc.” You whispered back, afraid that anything above a whisper would punctuate this amorous atmosphere.

He slowly dragged his face alongside yours, stopping beside your ear and continuing in his low voice. “So do you.”

There was no stopping the shiver of anticipation that crawled up your spine.

You could feel the small smirk grow against your skin before he pulled off and grazed his lips against your forehead.

The expression on your face was practically begging him to kiss you. From the small lean in your side against his arm slung around you to the way your eyes slowly fluttered closed, it took all of his self-control to stop himself before he pulled you closer. He wanted nothing more than to grasp you by the back of your neck, relish in the way you melt against him. To kiss you now and tomorrow and maybe even the morning after at the winery.

Diluc had to remind himself that in less than a week you were going to be long gone.

He did not want to ruin this memory a week from now, asking what if and why. And so he settled on a simple kiss above your brow before leaning back in his seat, enjoying the moment he had with you tonight.

You were disappointed, but actually not surprised. It was a feat in itself that you were so close to Diluc in this short amount of time, it would do no good in pressuring him into anything else. But also, another more rational part of you, had to remind yourself that getting attached to the people of this world would only make it hurt more when you had to return home.

This was for the better.

But no matter how much rational thought Diluc used to push you away, you were sure that you had already fallen for him. From the small interactions with Diluc, you could barely recognize the moment that you were completely enamored with him. It was not during the first time you saw him fight or even the night he leant you his jacket. No, you feared it was much before then.

To think you had gotten attached to Diluc in such a short amount of time.

But then you had to say goodbye.

“Safe travels.” Diluc stated from behind the bar when he saw you enter on your last day.

You were not sure what you expected, a drawn out goodbye or a fore longed hug, but Diluc was still, well. He was still Diluc. And to see him re-erecting his walls before you left for your journey was a sad thought, but needed while the two of you were hundreds of miles away from one another.

But you would regret it if you didn’t say anything.

Instead you settled on, “I’ll miss you.”

The hopeful look in your eyes spelled out exactly what you wanted to hear back.

Diluc instead replied, “You fight good.”

“Oh. Um.” The hesitation was clear in your voice.

Was this really how you were going to leave things?

But with Diluc turning his attention back to the wine glass he was previously wiping, yes. It seemed that this was exactly how he wanted to leave it. Paimon scoffed, but said her own goodbyes before flying away.

“Goodbye, Diluc.”

Outside the tavern, you let your frown grow at that interaction. After everything you had been through together, Diluc complimented you on your fighting? Then said peace out?

“That was really lame.” Paimon commented aloud as she floated alongside you. You could not help but internally agree, but you had a whole journey ahead of you. At least the busyness of Liyue would keep you busy from dwelling on that conversation.

But as you said goodbye to Venti, the both of you stood in silence under the giant tree staring at the city. You thought about going back three times, to get a proper goodbye out of Diluc. But doing so would do neither of you any good, since it would only open more issues.

“No more questions about the other Archons?” Venti asked, voice surprisingly serious.

“Can’t think of anything.”

“None even of a certain… winery owner?” You could almost hear the smile in his voice.

You rolled your eyes and responded, “You’re such a little shit.”

“Hehe.”

You both continued to stare at the city, the marvels of its people and history within its high walls. To think Barbatos and Dvalin were finally free, because of your otherworldly intervention. Venti was truly thankful for you, and while he knew his words were on the more mischievous side, he knew that you understood.

Venti’s voice permeated the air. “Be safe in Liyue.”

You smiled back and offered him a tight hug, replying. “As always.”

To think that the same day that you stepped into Liyue, Rex Lapis was murdered before your very eyes. It was like the Gods actually hated you, having to rely on a Fatui to run away from the government officials hot on your trail.

Since then you had been working with Zhongli to prepare for a parting ceremony. From running around for certain types of Jade materials to singing to flowers, you were happy to take a second to yourself at all. You were afraid that trouncing around Liyue with a bounty on your head would do you no good and often stayed in the wild areas. Visits to the city were for necessities only, which often left you relying on the ever so truthful Childe or the mora-averse Zhongli.

More than three months after your initial departure to Liyue, you stepped back into the walls of Mondstadt’s bustling city, a commission nearby and you figured you were safe simply due to your reputation under the Knights of Favonius.

Venti was the last face you saw and the first face that greeted you, beckoning to join him for lunch. With your final commission of the day finished, you joined him with a smile and ordered some honey roasted ham.

You recounted some of the news to Venti, meeting many of the adeptus and how out of touch they seemed with the region. You described Zhongli from the funeral parlor who always felt like he knew more and played a higher part in Liyue (and you inwardly noted how Venti’s eyes lit up in recognition at the name). And also, Childe the Fatui Harbinger that had you on edge.

“You’re hanging out with a harbinger?” Venti asked.

“Uh oh.” Paimon reacted.

“Well.” You remembered your last encounter with Signora. “It’s complicated.”

Venti paused before sighing, “Is he cute?”

“That’s not why!” You huffed back instantly.

“So he is cute!”

“And rich!” Paimon added, joining in on the teasing.

“Not the issue here.” You stated, “He saved me from the Millelith and helped me get into contact with the adepti.”

Venti’s mischievous smile from the earlier teasing turned blank, as if he was fully ingesting your words. “... Why would he do that?”

“Huh?”

But Venti quickly recovered, waving away the question and urging you to move past it. “Just thinking out loud, continue. What happened after?”

And so you recalled everything from then. How the soldiers followed you all the way up the mountain and how you had to defend yourself from people that were supposed to be on the same side as you.

How there was someone out there with the strength to take down a God.

Venti laughed at you for like, twenty minutes.

After his laughter subsided, he held a hand over his stomach and asked. “They think you killed Rex Lapis?”

He took another look at your pouting face and laughed again.

It only made you scowl further. “I’m glad you think my supposed war crimes are so funny.”

“I think I’m missing the punchline again.” Paimon added.

“Hehe. You’ll be fine.” Venti shot back his mischievous smile, “Besides, I’m sure you’re looking forward to laying low here with a certain… someone here.”

You paused and put your fork back down, “What are you trying to say?”

“Well, the Dawn Winery is throwing a festival tonight.” Venti stated clearly, “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Wait, really?”

The mischievous light was back in Venti’s eyes, “I’m sure the winds of fate have brought you here purely on coincidence.”

You sighed and turned to him fully. “You trying to fight, old man?”

“Hehe.” His signature giggle, one you found almost endearing, was undoubtedly mocking you. “We should go together later.”

And true to his word, somehow you found yourself with the Anemo Archon heading over to the bar. To think that it was Venti who introduced you here and now he was bringing you along again.

That is, if you even had a chance to make it inside at this rate.

The area was packed to the brim, all the seats outside in front and on the side of the building already taken. There was a line out the door, many hopeful young women with gleaming eyes trying to get a one-on-one conversation with the current barkeep and owner.

You peered into the open door and saw Diluc and Charles behind the bar, the red-head adorned with his usual flat-expression. It was the first time in months since you had seen him, but he looked exactly as the day you had left. Still the same colored wardrobe and prickly atmosphere, Diluc was still, Diluc.

What did not help was the ever growing line of flirty men and women trying to vye for his attention.

It only seemed to further nail the pit in your stomach.

Was this… jealousy?

You didn’t dwell on the thought for long.

Instead, you considered for a single-second if you should just turn tail now, but Venti must have seen your hesitation and grabbed you by the arm to walk inside. Dozens of eyes followed you on the way in, many people recognizing you as the young hero of Mondstadt and honorary knight of Favonius.

The crowd was surprisingly less inside, but knowing Diluc he probably would have tried to corral everyone to the outdoor areas. Venti continued to lead you towards a table in the back and you saw a familiar red-bowed Outrider.

“I didn’t even know you were going to be here today!” She greeted you excitedly.

“Tone-Deaf Bard here convinced us to stay the night.” Paimon replied.

“Oh?” Her voice lifted in a tone that only spelled trouble, “No matter, I’m glad to see you in one piece.”

“I’m assuming you’ve heard.”

Amber stretched in her seat and lowered her voice, smile turning to a smirk. “Well, I won’t confirm anything. But my suspicions are that the blonde person the Knights were pursuing for stealing the Holy Lyre may be the same blonde person running from the Millelith.”

“What a crazy theory.” Paimon responded as she cleared her throat.

“At least it’s just a theory, right?” Amber replied. “Anyway, we’ll hold the seats. Do you mind going up to the bar to order?”

Paimon chimed up as she floated down into the wooden seat, “Yeah, you should go.”

You barely had a second to object before Venti agreed and was motioning for you to go back to the bar. If not for their eager stares at you, you would have rolled your eyes at how obvious they were being.

“Fine, fine. I’m going.” You stated aloud, getting up from the seat you inhabited for at most ten minutes.

Turning towards the bar, you took in a deep breath to collect your thoughts. To think you fought the Wolf of the North and Oceanid with more courage - it was just Diluc.

“Long time no see.” You greeted, trying to sound extremely casual. “Bottle of wine for one of your favorite people?”

Diluc looked at you for a quick second, then back down to the bar, then rapidly snapping back up to you in surprise. “Hey. Of course.”

Unsure what to say, you responded back with a simple, “Thank you.”

“Didn’t know you’d be in town today.”

“It was all coincidence. Venti told me about your event tonight.” You mentioned, motioning behind you to the table where the three of them were waiting. Amber waggled her eyebrows in response and you turned back to Diluc in embarrassment.

But he was looking at you the entire time. “For a war criminal, you look well.”

“Ugh, not you too.”

“Ironic how you delinquents always return here while hiding it out.” Diluc did not answer, instead openly teasing you.

Honestly, it was a little ironic that you and Venti ran here after stealing the Holy Lyre, just to end up back here while the Millelith were on the hunt for you.

Instead you replied, “They didn’t release any names.”

“Right, it’s probably some other sword-wielding blonde with white clothes and access to the Anemo vision.”

“Obviously.”

To think you were so involved in Teyvat's politics. An otherworldly being with no prior connections to the people or nations was somehow involved with the highest ranking people of every country you’ve stumbled into.

Everyone from the Dvalin team knew about your primary objectives: to find your brother and regain your full power through the seven Archons. And when news of Rex Lapis’ death reached Mondstadt, Diluc could almost physically feel the dread in his heart that something had happened to you. And when the Millelith released their man-hunt of your exact profile, there was no doubt that you were involved.

To see you standing before him, in association with an Archon of all people, it was like a breath of fresh air on his heart. You were here in the tavern, fine and even enjoying the night.

A large part of him wanted to ask about your journey, what was it that had you on the run again? But with the growing line out the door, he knew he barely had time to keep this conversation going.

So instead, Diluc grabbed glasses and a bottle of wine from beneath the bar and asked, “Spare a few minutes for me later?”

You nodded quietly, handing him the necessary Mora before returning back to the table.

Amber did not pull her punches, “So, you guys dating yet?”

You almost dropped the bottle, but Venti was quick even through his laughter.

“Yeah and I’m the Archon of Snezhnaya.” Paimon replied sarcastically.

“Shut up.” You pouted, “It was just nice to see each other after all this time.”

“Oh so you had a good conversation? Did he ask you to stay after? Are you going to stay the night? Did he offer for you to stay at the Dawn Winery?” Amber spit out question after question, not a sense of patience or tact in her words.

Venti was still laughing like the Archon of assholes he was.

While they prodded through their multiple questions, you tried to wave them away to another conversation topic. If Amber was prodding you like this, you could only imagine that the other Knights, such as Kaeya and Jean, were also aware of your strange relationship.

Amber tried to push it a bit more, but you were able to spin the conversation to ask what the others were up to. It was interesting to hear about the little tasks in Mondstadt, small commissions that the Knights take care of in the city as well as guarding the areas further out into the country.

And while you hated to drift off with them sitting right in front of you, your mind often wandered toward the red-head behind the bar. Diluc had personally asked you to stay back later, undoubtedly to speak to you about something one-on-one. Would it be cowardly if you left early? Would the others notice if you tried to make a break for it at one point?

Again, it seemed as if Venti was capable of reading your mind, lightly calling you to attention and putting a casual hand on the back of your chair.

He was not letting you get away from this.

Venti even shifted the conversation to you, asking about Liyue and the local adventures you had while in the city. Unable to ignore the direct questions, you told them about the stories of the people you met so far and the strange events you seemed to be dragged into.

“Wait, start over.” Amber cut into your most recent story about a ship just outside of the Liyue city. ”You just glided down onto the Pearl Galley?”

You paused then replied, “Well. I mean the ship was just sitting there outside the harbor and I was curious.”

“And so you boarded a luxury ship without an invitation?”

“Yeah, so?” Paimon answered with a question, genuinely confused.

“And yet you wonder how you keep getting involved in all these crazy schemes.” Amber answered ambiguously.

“Well, eventually I did get an invitation.”

“But after you were already on the ship.” Amber pointed out. “How did you even glide that far out?”

“I climbed to the top of the nearby mountain and then just dropped down.”

“Wow.”

“Is it really a surprise?” Venti commented, “She doesn’t even follow the proper stairs here in the city. Don’t think we don’t see you climbing over every wall here in Mondstadt.”

“You’re such a weirdo.” Amber sighed with a smile, “You’re lucky we love you so much.”

You continued on with your stories, some in the city and others within hidden temples deep in the wilderness, puzzles and timed traps masking treasures you sought to find. Amber and Venti listened on in rapt attention, asking questions here and there and even teasing you about your constant climbing.

You hadn’t even noticed how the bar patrons were starting to slowly thin out.

The night with Venti and Amber was such a refreshing feeling compared to the nights you spent staring up silently at the night sky, only Paimon at your side. It was nice to hear and speak to other people, to not be on the run and always looking over your shoulder.

Feeling a light tap on the side, you turned to see Diluc standing at attention.

“Hey.” He greeted you again.

“We were just on our way out!” Amber exclaimed, standing instantly with Venti not far behind her. “Mondstadt’s star Outrider has to be up bright and early tomorrow.”

“Which is why you’re both leaving…?” You asked.

“It’s my duty to ensure the safety of the city and we said we were going to discuss something.” Venti answered ambiguously.

You crossed your arms, “Discuss what?”

“The— !” Amber paused, “The thing. You know, with the stuff at the Seven Winds Temple.”

“Right! Let’s get going.” Venti turned to Paimon at the last second, “I think this will interest you.”

Paimon winked at you before turning to Diluc, ”Right, the stuff!”

Diluc motioned you to follow him and so, once again, you found yourself following behind the Pyro-user out the second-floor balcony. However, instead of sitting at the table, you learned against the railing while Diluc stood to the side.

“Wasn't expecting you to be gone for so long.” Diluc started with a flat voice.

You turned to him with a slight grimace. “I’m sorry, I ended up getting caught in something important back in Liyue.”

More important than him.

The implication was quiet in the back of Diluc’s mind.

But that would always be the case. To think that the first person in years to open up his shell was someone who could only be in his life temporarily. You intrigued him to the high heavens - the strange mix of both pride and humility as you fought and carried yourself. You were strong, but merciful. Kind, but a purveyor of your own brand of justice.

It had been a while since he met someone with such genuine reservations as you.

But your time together was already ticking down, from your time in Mondstadt to your time in his world. You were looking for your brother and who knew if he was even in Tyvat currently? It would be unfair to be bitter towards you. And so he resolved long ago to simply cherish the moments you had together.

So instead of snapping back, Diluc teased you.

“I’m sure. I’ve heard of your extensive… wanted days.”

You sighed aloud, “How did the news travel here so fast?”

Diluc smirked, “First Barbatos and now Rex Lapis? What kind of luck do you have?”

“The worst kind.”

Of course, there was something he wanted to learn more about. After he had caught wind from Katheryn in Liyue, Diluc still wanted to be informed about your current situation. To think that you were in close association with one of the high Fatui Harbingers after Signora personally attacked you, it was almost like you were openly inviting trouble.

It also did not help that many of the gossip mills included how attractive this particular Fatui was.

He goes by the alias of ‘Childe.’ Young, but deadly!

A Fatui, but doesn’t wear his mask - for good reason! He’s quite the looker.

I wouldn’t mind if he impaled me somewhere. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Needless to say, his sources did not alleviate his worries.

Of all people? A Fatui was one of your close associates in Liyue? A party of him wanted to snarl, the thought a worse downgrade from the Knights of Favonius. At least he knew Kaeya would do you no harm; he doubted the same could be said about Childe.

Archons, why did he care so much?

Diluc told himself multiple times that your abrupt parting was necessary to keep himself from getting too attached to you. But it hardly mattered when he was worrying this much anyway in spite of that.

Fuck, why did he just let you walk away like that?

Diluc was not going to make the same mistake.

He turned to you and asked, “Like the Fatui kind?”

You sighed, “Believe me, I don’t like it either.”

“And yet somehow here we are.”

“It’s complicated, okay?”

“When is it not with you?” Diluc asked, more hypothetically. And while from anyone else, it may have felt offensive, you could tell from his tone that it was just a tired sigh.

“Tell me about your journey.” He continued.

“What?” You answered with a question, genuinely surprised. “It’s a long story, not all that interesting.”

Diluc took a step forward, taking the spot next to you against the rail as your shoulders touched. “I want to hear it from you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Okay.”

And so you recounted your journey to find the Geo Archon, how the adepti set up strange puzzles and at some point you swore you were pulled into a teacup that somehow contained a full domain.

There were also other missions on the side, other things you would do to collect Mora or materials if you were going to get any stronger. Some of them made sense — doing deliveries, clearing abyss camps, and other mercenary like duties. Other instances, not so much.

“Only you would accept a commission from a ghost.” Diluc teased as you recounted the treasure in the mines.

“In my defense, I didn’t think he was a ghost at first.”

“Right. Nothing suspicious at all about a transparent old man in the middle of an abandoned village.”

“I was reading the poster he was showing!”

“And when did you realize he was a ghost?”

“... After I met three other ghosts.”

Diluc cracked a smile at that, only making you pout more. You had adjusted your postures overtime, standing against with rails to your backs as you faced the tavern.

“He paid me good Mora!”

“How…?” Diluc thought about it before waving it off, “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

You laughed back before you saw the lights inside the tavern switch off, complete darkness in the windows as the remaining employees packed up and went home.

“Oh wow, I hadn’t even realized how long we were out here.” You admitted, “I’m sorry I took up so much of your time.”

“Don’t apologize. I wanted to spend this time with you.”

“Still, it’s already late.”

“You’re right. Where were you and Paimon going to spend the night?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” You admitted, “Venti convinced us to stay, but I don’t even know where he is.”

Diluc pushed off the railing to stand facing you, “You could stay the night at the winery. We can retrieve Paimon tomorrow.”

What game was he playing? Your disappointing departure with Diluc cutting you off and now he was asking for your time and space back into his life? You hated that he pushed you away just to pull you back in at his convenience. And while you understood his personality tended to keep people at a distance, you had your own limits as to what you could withstand.

“... Diluc, what are you doing?”

“You’ll have to be more clear.”

You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and hamper down on your rising temper. “Come on, why are you being so nice to me?”

He stared at you expectedly, blank eyes urging you to continue.

It only served to make you more angry.

“Diluc, when I left you hardly blinked. And now that I’m here, after months of us not talking, you want me to spend the night?”

“I told you before how much you meant to Mondstadt.”

To Mondstadt? Not even to himself personally?

You decided it was better to confront him cleanly asking, “Why didn’t you kiss me that night we were drinking here?”

Diluc paused, not a single hint of surprise on his face as you addressed the situation head-on. “Why should I have?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t feel it. There was something between us.” You scoffed.

He noticed your use of past tense.

“Does it honestly matter? You would’ve left anyway, I saved us both the trouble.”

You visibly recoiled in response. “Is that what this is about? I have to go to Liyue and the other counties, Diluc. I have to find my brother.”

“I know that.” Diluc cut in, before you got the wrong idea. “You don’t think I’m acutely aware of that fact? The fact that this is my home and not yours. That one day you’ll find your brother and I’ll never see you again?”

“Wait.”

“Believe me, I know better than anyone that you’re off to find your brother. And I’ll help you in any way that I can.” Diluc continued, not heeding your confused attempts to stop him. “But let’s not pretend like I was anything more than a stepping stone in your journey.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh?” Diluc’s tone was almost challenging, “It’s not? So once the dust is settled, if I asked you to stay here with me, would I be enough?”

You stuttered over your words, “I --”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse because we both know the answer.” He cut you off, “I was trying to save myself from that before it happened.”

“Will you let me speak, you idiot!?” Your voice cut through the silent evening air.

Diluc paused, standing a good ten feet away from you and looking angrier than you’d ever seen. But he did, thankfully, stop talking.

“Is it crazy to think that I feel the same way about you?”

“What?”

“Diluc, I’m just me!” You answered, “I have nothing to my name but an objective to find my brother — if he’s even alive at this point. I need to try and I need to continue on this path…”

He crossed his arms, but stayed quiet as he listened.

“But just because I have so much ahead of me, that doesn’t I don’t care about where I’ve already seen.” You took a few steps toward Diluc as you spoke, “You mean so much to me and I wouldn’t ever want to throw that away.”

“You won’t have a choice if you have to leave this world.”

“If!” You pointed out, “Diluc you’re so worried about the future, about me walking away from you forever, but it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“And suddenly there’s an alternative?”

“There’s always been one, you idiot! You just never bothered to actually talk to me.” You put your hands on his chest, the light material of his dark clothes underneath your palms. “I would’ve tried. If you asked me to make this work, to come back to you at the winery back then, I would’ve done it.”

Diluc closed his eyes, taking in your words as his hands snaked down to your wrists.

“Don’t give me empty promises.”

“I mean it!” You defended, “You aren’t just another person, Diluc. I—“

He opened his eyes then, reflecting back to you as hopeful and curious. “You…?”

“I care about you more than you know.” You settled on, still unsure about the extent of your feelings. “Why are you giving up on us before even starting?”

You stared right back at Diluc, his silence paramount to the inner turmoil you were sure he was going through. From his late father to the betrayal from the Knights, there were plenty of reasons why Diluc was so hesitant to connect with other people.

But you’d be damned if you didn’t try.

Your hands felt heavy against his chest. Despite your small demeanor and even smaller palms, the weight of your hands seemed to play seesaw between his heart and mind. He had logical reasons to keep you at a distance, but here you were trying to carve your way through back to him.

It had been a long time since he cared about anyone like this. And Diluc could not even recall the last time he wanted to sorely kiss someone at all. But how could he not want to now? You stared up at him, eyes blazing with determination as you tried to convey your feelings.

“You mean so much to me.” Diluc stated after a few silent minutes, “Let’s make this work.”

The smile you shot him was wide and radiant, a private blessing that only he was gifted tonight. He wrapped his arms around your waist, eager to feel more of you — to envelop you in his arms and keep you within them tonight.

One hand strayed upward, carding itself in your hair and pulling you closer until both your eyes fluttered closed. The soft skin of your lips slotted against his, an endearing frenzy to give one another tender pecks. You could not help the happy mewl that escaped your lips as Diluc licked against the crease of your skin.

Moaning aloud to his tender touch, Diluc was eager to explore every inch of your wet cavern. There was no battle of tongues, simply moving in tandem as Diluc dominated the kiss. You tried to maneuver to give him more access, but with your height difference it was the best you could do.

Diluc lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist and lightly tapping the other to do the same. Eyes clouded with lust, you did as instructed and quickly felt the soft thump behind you, the wall of the tavern helping hold you upright.

You fell more and more into the passionate lip lock, pushing to match his intensity as Diluc connected you in one of the most intimate ways possible. One hand was still in your hair while the other continued its scandalized trail downward.

You prayed to Barbatos that nobody heard you outside the tavern.

The both of you would later attribute this impassioned frenzy due to the prolonged time apart and mutual pining (culminating in a mistake outside on the balcony, twice inside the bar, and the rest of the night back at the winery).

For the first time, you enjoyed the morning sun streaming in through the windows, a lazy arm strung across your waist as you snuggled in the chest of the man you were growing to love.

Diluc woke long before you, hand threading through your hair silently as he resolved to remember this moment. You kissed at the naked skin of his chest twice before nuzzling him, feeling the light arm pull you closer.

“Good morning.” You started, voice muffled against his skin.

But you would have never expected Diluc to be so affectionate.

He kissed the top of your head, murmuring in a low tone. “Good morning, my love.”

Nothing about your relationship was perfect. You still fought and cried like every other couple. But you both knew that what you had was real, willing to fight for it no matter the obstacles that came with the future.

It did not matter that Tyvat was not your home.

Wherever Diluc was, that was where you’d return.

---xXxXxXxXxXx---

Extra: “What if they end up fighting?” Amber asked the other two as they walked down a side-street of the city.

“Then we’ll find out the moment it breaks out. Trust me.” Paimon replied. After all, your Anemo power would only serve to make any fire larger.

“They’ve both been in that pining puppy phase for so long, I doubt it’ll come down to that.” Venti added.

“500 Mora says they’ll be dating by the end of this week.” Amber bet.

“1,000 that they’ll be together by tonight!” Paimon countered.

“10,000 that they’ll be joined in every way by tonight.” Venti added, the mischievous tone not missed by either woman.

“You tone-deaf bard!” Paimon exclaimed as she slapped her hands over her red cheeks. “The traveler is more dignified than that!”

Amber had a hand on her chin, “Dating? Probably. But more than that…?”

Venti held out a hand to both, vying for both to shake one and accept the bet.

Nothing, but a couple of suckers.

Amber grumbled once when she heard the news, but otherwise excitedly congratulated you two on finally accepting your feelings. Paimon’s whine could probably be heard in a fifteen mile radius and Venti’s proud smile didn’t help either — accepting the easiest twenty thousand Mora he ever made.

And, just to gode the tiny guide a little more, Venti turned to Paimon in the middle of her complaining rant.

“Hehe.”

---xXxXxXxXxXx---

A/N:

The festival idea comes from Diluc’s story 1: “The winery holds festivities from time to time. These events are routinely attended by enthusiastic fathers, eager to introduce their wonderful daughters to the young and single winery master.”

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

Text

Bells and Smoke

Summary: The youngest Shelby has to be send away to a convent, but you have no intention of conforming to their rules, even if you’ll die in the process

(Gif by @harmon-jane-black) A/N: Requested by anon: Could I request a Shelby sister where she is sent off to a boarding school and is getting badly bullied by teachers and pupils for being what they think is Birmingham poor scum. Maybe she comes home or gets visited and is losing her Birmingham accent and is a little thin and tired. V Polly and tommy nun scene vibes. Only if you aren't busy ❣️ x This has gotten really long, but this request gave me SO many ideas! Warning for abuse and neglect though. And I hope you like it!

Words: 6020 *** You couldn’t remember how it had all happened. One minute everything seemed to be fine and the next, life as you knew it had ended. Maybe it was Tommy’s idea, to give you the opportunities the others never had. But he never cared much about his siblings’ education. Maybe it was Arthur’s idea, thinking you’d finally become too wild. But he was too busy fighting his own demons. Maybe it was Aunt Pol’s idea, making a woman of style and class out of you. But she’d never abandon you like this.

All you knew was that one morning you had been in bed. As usual, you’d woken up with the workers as the factory whistles sounded, but there was no need for you to get up at five. So you’d turned around and tried to sleep on. But then Finn had come in and he roughly shook you awake. “Aunt Pol says you have to get up,” he had said, his voice filled with urgency. But you hadn’t been awake fully yet, “What… Why? It’s so early!” “You have to pack.” “For what? Where are we going?” Your brother had refused to meet your eye, “Not me. Just you.” And before you knew it, Aunt Polly had taken you and your small bag into the car and you were speeding out of Birmingham. At least Finn had come along, though Polly had forbidden him to go, but he had been adamant. “Where are we going?” you had whispered to him in the back. He had hardly replied to any of your question, but gave evasive answers like, “Away. Pol says it won’t be forever.” You remembered the all-encompassing feeling of loneliness that had washed over you in that moment. Was it something you had done? Were you being punished? Was the family giving you up? You were only fifteen, you’d never been away from Small Heath without any of your siblings by your side, and the separation had been too abrupt, too cruel. Suddenly, Aunt Polly had swerved to the right and stopped abruptly in front of the train station. “Get you bag,” she’d ordered you. Anger had flared inside of you, “No! You tell me where I’m going first!” “Y/N Shelby, I am your aunt and you will do as I say. Remember who you’re talking to and don’t think for one second that you will win this fight. Grab your bag and get out of the car.” Petrified at your aunt’s tone of voice, you’d gotten out of the car. And like a zombie, you’d walked over to the train. On the side it said Oxford. “Where do I get off?” You’d asked no one in particular. “Oxford,” your brother had never left your side, “Just sit tight until the end.” “You know what’s going on.” “I can’t change it, Y/N,” his eyes had been pleading for your forgiveness in that one moment, “I tried, I swear to God I did, but I can’t change it…” Not really understanding, you had only been able to nod, “Will you explain it to me?” “I’ll write.” Suddenly, tears had begun to fall from your eyes. The great unknown hadn’t even scared you that much, but the sudden realisation that everything had been altered had. “Here,” Finn had nudged you, as you’d hoisted your bag on board, “I nicked this for you,” and he’d handed you a hipflask, “might get you as far as Oxford. After that, you’re on your own.” His words had hit you hard, so there’d been nothing left to do but take a swig from the whiskey he offered. “What did I do wrong?” you’d asked him, uncertain. “Nothing. Don’t let the bastards tell you otherwise. You did nothing.” His voice had been so strong then. “Finn?” “Yeah?” “You can’t fucking write.” He’d burst out laughing and you couldn’t help yourself but join him. Then the train had started to depart and you’d taken one last look at the car with Aunt Pol’s silhouette inside. You’d turned to Finn and it’d been like you would never see him again. “Finn?” “Yeah?” “I bloody love you, you know?” He’d smirked, “I fucking love you too.” Eyes still locked, the train had started to move and just before it was too late, he’d added, “I’ll make sure you’re coming back home.” You’d clung to those words *** At five in the morning, the whistles sounded. Waking up this early was now your habit, as it was the habit of all the girls here. Like robots, you all climbed out of your sober beds, to put on your drab grey dresses and to stand neatly next to year beds. The dormitory looked like a prison cell and the girls’ faces were ashen. Shivering in the cold, you waited for inspection. “Adams!” “Yes, sister.” “Lee!” “Yes, sister.” “Williams!” “Yes, sister.” The first voice rang through the room like the bells of hell and the girls answered in meek tones. This was your morning ritual and there was no comfort to be found in it. Silently, you waited, while a part of you still dreamed of the horses you once loved and rode. Remember the freedom you felt, you told yourself. Remember the wind in your hair? The people who cared? The place called home? Remember Finn running alongside you? “Shelby!” You suddenly looked up, “Yes, sister,” and faced the nun who’d stopped by your bed. “What’s this?” she asked her rhetorical question. “My bed,” you weren’t supposed to answer, but it had escaped you before you could stop yourself. The middle-aged woman crouched down and tore up the neat bedding you’d just finished tucking in perfectly. Locking eyes with you, she gloated, “Look, it isn’t made properly.” “It was,” you replied through gritted teeth, “you just went and fucked it up again.” Without a warning, she struck you across the face hard. Then she flipped over the bed in one smooth motion and said, without any emotion, “Do it again.” Seething with rage, you counted to ten in your head. In your mind, you went back to Small Heath. You could feel the warmth of the fire in your kitchen, hear the men counting the money and could smell Aunt Polly’s cooking. This and only this was how you managed not to explode. “Ankins!” she continued her list. “Yes, sister.” “Elliot!” She was new here and you looked at her without turning your head, a skill you’d mastered in recent weeks. Some of the girls said she’d gotten pregnant, but she’d lost the baby before coming here. No one really knew what had happened to her. You only thought she looked too young, too fragile, like a little bird that could be squashed with a single movement of the hand. “Yes…” she mumbled, practically inaudibly. “Speak up, girl!” She hardly increased her volume, but repeated, “Yes, sister.” Just as you’d promised yourself you’d try to look out for her, evil incarnate turned around to face you again and snapped, “Shelby. You’ll report to my office after you’ve finished making your bed, properlythis time.” Great, you thought. After she’d left, you looked at your hands in resignation. Faint white lines betrayed the cane that had been on them. They’d only just healed. *** A few months earlier, Tommy was meeting a man dressed in black in an alleyway. As the rain was pouring down on Small Heath, they spoke in urgent whispers. “What did she do this time?” the concerned brother said with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. “Theft, mainly,” the other replied, “And she was seen at the races, leaving the scene of the murder.” Tommy knew his sister hadn’t been responsible for the death that day, but none of it mattered now, “How much do they know?” “Enough.” Tommy took another drag of his cigarette and paused for a second, “Well, what do they want?” “Nothing. Leverage.” “Fuck…” “Thomas,” the informant urged, “Get her out. Out of Small Heath, and do it fast.” “Where the fuck is she supposed to go?” He shrugged, “Don’t you have family some place else?” “Can’t protect our Y/N when she’s away from here,” Tommy said coldly, not betraying the emotions he felt. “Then send her somewhere she will be protected.” Tommy sighed deeply, “I’ll ask Pol, eh? She’ll know what to do.” The man looked at Thomas Shelby: gangster, businessman, brother. His face was impossible to read and his feelings remained hidden. So he said, “Do it tonight, Thomas, if you can. He said she’d hang for it. Get her out.” ***

The first time you had tried to escape you didn’t think about it. You hadn’t even planned it and had just decided to run. With two nuns hot on your heels, you’d raced through the corridors. Pretty soon, you ran into your first locked door. You knew all was lost there and then. “Shelby…” the mother superior had mused as you stood in her office, “I knew it would be you.” “And how the fuck would you know that?” you’d replied quick as a flash. “You watch your tone, filthy rat,” she’d shouted, but added calmly, “We know of your kind, child.” Through gritted teeth, you’d questioned, “And what kind would that be?” “Gypsy scum,” she’d spat, before beating you senseless for the first time. The second time you tried to escape, you’d thought it through more. In the middle of the night, you’d crept out of bed and tiptoed across the dormitory. “Get back in bed!” one of the girls had whispered, “Remember last time?” “Yeah, I fucking remember, that’s why I need to leave!” you’d whispered back, voice filled with urgency.

Two hairpins. The day you’d found those were the day you’d planned your second escape attempt. Because if growing up in Small Heath had taught you one thing, it was how to steal and lie and cheat. And, coincidentally, how to pry open any lock. The first locked door was conquered quickly, but the second one had proven to be more troublesome. The large black doors that were said to protect you from the outside world did their job of keeping you all caged inside. The hairpins were too small to reach all the tumblers. Cursing under your breath, you’d soon realised that you disappearance had been noticed. In a panic, you’d grabbed a chandelier from the chapel and broken a window. Ignoring the shards you’d climbed through, while they tore at your skin and blood stained your nightgown. Once outside, the fresh air had an intoxicating effect on you. But you’d never gotten far. Again, you were brought to the mother superior, who stood waiting eagerly this time, cane in hand. “Go on,” you’d urged, full of defiance, “Beat me and get it over with.” “No…” she’d said suddenly, “you will tell me what your plan was first.” “To fucking get out.” “Why would you want to leave this place?” she’d questioned innocently, “Why would you want to leave the house of the Lord, where we only want to offer you safety and education? Where you can atone for your sins and regain your place in heaven?” “I’m not an animal,” you’d replied, “I need to be free.” And with that, the nun had smirked at you, “Free. You want to be free. Well, maybe this will finally break your spirit.” They’d locked you up in the cellars for three weeks. Darkness had enveloped you, only broken when she came in to beat you or feed you. You could never be sure. After every beating, she’d say, “Now, I’ll pray to God for you and ask him for his forgiveness.” “I’ll do it myself,” came your steady answer each time, “I’ll deal with him on my own.” And in the dark you’d cling onto the black Madonna around your neck, the only mother you still had left in this Godforsaken place. Now, some girls would be broken by now, but not you. If anything, you’d been more determined than ever to get out. But you had to be smart about it. Maybe Aunt Pol wouldn’t take you back and maybe you’d shame Tommy, but Finn would look out for you. Running hadn’t worked so far, so a new plan had started to form in your mind: a new plan that involved the boy that delivered the bread. Because as the days droned on after you were being released, you started paying attention to the delivery boy for the first time. You knew he’d always had a thing for you, but you weren’t interested. As a way out, you were now extremely interested. “Hi,” you greeted when it was your turn to help him unload. He was so startled by your talking all of a sudden, all he could manage was, “Bread…” “Yeah,” you smiled your prettiest smile, “Bread. That’s what you’re here for, right?” “I am.” “Good,” and you continued to unload the crates, sending him a few glances over your shoulder. He was still rooted to the spot, so you decided a bit more effort was required in this case, “You only come here for the bread?” you asked with humour in your voice. “Well, that’s my job…” he almost stuttered, but when you made eye contact, he finally relaxed a little, “What else would I come here for?” “Me?” you asked innocently. You could tell his confidence was growing, “Well, maybe a little. I mean, you are the prettiest girl in the school.” That was easy, you thought. So you flirted on and chatted him up and soon he was all yours, “Your name’s Billy, right?” “Yeah.” “Well, Billy. I need a favour…” This plan was a lot more complicated but it had a higher chance of success. And it would’ve worked too, if it hadn’t been for the younger nun who’d spotted you talking to Billy. Before the third attempt had even taken place, you found yourself back at the office. This time, the mother superior didn’t even speak. As soon as you were marched in, she’d grabbed you by your hair and attacked you with a pair of scissors. “Get off me, you crazy bitch!” you screeched, as strands of your hair fell down left and right of you. But the old nun remained completely calm in her tone, while becoming increasingly vicious in her attack, “Do you know what we do here?” You clenched your jaw for the pain, because this was no longer just about cutting your hair, but also hurting you as much as possible in the process. You had about a thousand replies to her question, but quickly weighed your options and decided not to piss off an angry old nun with a deadly weapon in her hands. So she continued, “We offer you the gift of education. Through hard labour, lots of prayer and penance the girls can find their way back to Jesus Christ. By humbling yourself, denying yourself rest, food and drink even, and working beyond human endurance one may come closer to our Lord. Save yourself from eternal damnation.” “No, thanks,” you replied inaudibly. When your hair had been cut, she crowed, “Your arrogance has been defeated and your vanity has been lifted. You will do well here now.” The fuck you would.

*** “Aunt Pol?” “What?” the woman snapped. He faltered, “Is this a bad time?” “It’s never a good time. Speak up, Finn.” “Fine,” and he took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself, “When’s Y/N coming home?” Aunt Polly turned around abruptly and said, “For fuck’s sake, Finn.” “It’s been months!” “And we haven’t heard from her,” with a large gesture, Aunt Polly threw some more wood onto the fire, “If something was wrong, she would’ve written.” “Well, no…” her nephew started protesting. “Yes,” his aunt interrupted him, “She’s fine. It’s Y/N. She can take care of herself.” “She can’t now, can she!” Finn suddenly erupted, “Yousend her away and for fucking what?! She didn’t do anythingwrong!” Polly held up a menacing hand, “You mind your fucking tone or I’ll slap you back to where you came from.” “I’m sixteen, Aunt Pol, same age as Y/N. Remember, we’re twins?” He’d only gotten more heated, “Something’s wrong. I can feel it, alright? And she wouldn’t write to you anyways, because you’re the one that send her away! Why would she write to someone who doesn’t even fuckingwant her?” Polly paused for a moment and seemed to calm down, “What do you mean you feel it?” “I just know, Aunt Pol, like when we were little and she fell in the Cut and I couldn’t breathe? It’s like that, only… longer.” She put down her black cigarette, “You’ve been dreaming, haven’t you?” “I dream about her, but I can never see her,” he nodded, “And sometimes…”

“What?” “It’s stupid…” “Finn, you tell me, right now!” everything about her was focused on the urgency of the situation now. But he didn’t understand, “Seagulls, alright? I keep dreaming about seagulls.” “Fuck,” his aunt whispered to herself, “I need to talk to Tommy.”

“Aunt Pol, you’re missing the fucking point!” he was seething again, “I was trying to talk to you about Y/N! I just want to know why you send her away and whenshe’s coming back!” “I didn’t send her away. Tommy said we didn’t have a choice,” she grabbed her coat and continued talking to herself, “I thought she’d be safe there…” “Isn’t she?” Finn asked, panicking as a result of his aunt’s strange behaviour. “Seagulls, Finn, fucking seagulls!” *** You couldn’t understand why they hated you so much. At first it had just been the nuns, and you had a vague notion of them calling you ‘gypsy scum’ had something to do with it. From the start, they’d commented on your accent, reminded you of where you came from and told you that you were nothing compared to the others girls here. And in a way this made sense: on the one hand this school had the outward appearance of being an institution of learning for young ladies, but the reality was very different. Parents who no longer wanted to deal with them or who had ‘shamed’ their families often dumped girls here. Others were orphans. Either way, the nuns collected the large amount of money paid for each girl and treated all of you badly. And you weren’t a complete idiot and you knew you were partially to blame for the situation as it was now. You knew you hadn’t made a great entrance when you walked into the school, but even from the start they had disliked you. But your resistance had made it worse, much worse. All the girls were treated harshly, had to work and were kept in line, but you were being treated like a slave held captive. There was zero intention on your part to come into the school to make friends. From the moment you’d stepped off that train, you’d decided you were done with people. All you wanted was your brother, and the rest of the family if they still wanted you. But after a few weeks, you had started craving some connections and you had tried to make friends with the other girls. But it soon became clear that you had very little in common with them. This however, wasn’t the main problem: they feared you. Your defiance made them anxious to be around you and receive similar punishments to yours. They kept away. “Elliot!” you whispered to the new girl, who was crying in the dark. You rolled onto your other side in bed to face her and tried to ask her gently, “What’s your name, your first name I mean?” After a few residual sobs, she said softly, “Anna.” “I had a cousin called Anna,” you smiled at her, “Why are you crying? Who do you miss?” “It’s not who I miss, it’s about who doesn’t miss me…” “How do you know…” you started, but you were interrupted. “Don’t talk to her!” another girl called out and Anna turned around to look at her. The girl continued, “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Don’t talk to Y/N. She’ll get you in trouble. Just… stay away from her.” Anna looked at you for a few seconds, eyes filled with fear and then she turned onto her other side. You couldn’t even blame her really. She was new. But slowly, it only got worse. All the girls crossed the halls when you passed and not only did they begin to shun you, but they started taking your things, stealing your food at times and made you an outcast in every sense of the word. And you suddenly understood: if they made you stand out even more, all the attention would be drawn to you. The nuns would leave them alone. You were the easy scapegoat, because you’d been the most likely choice from the start. And as the months wore on, you started to wither away. Jealous or full of hatred, you couldn’t tell, but the other girls tried to hurt you as much as the nuns did. You were cold at night because they’d taken your blankets. You didn’t eat because you were being punished. You didn’t sleep because you were locked up downstairs and the beatings kept you awake. And so you fell ill, heavily. After you recovered, you stopped eating, sleeping, fighting. Not because you no longer could, but because the loneliness had finally caught up with you: you no longer wanted to. *** Tommy watched his aunt as she strode over towards him. He’d known the woman for years and usually he would be annoyed by her interrupting his meeting, but by the way she walked, he knew she wouldn’t wait for anyone right now. “Get out,” she told the man Tommy had been talking too. He left at once. “It’s Y/N,” she said as soon as he’d gone, “We need to get her out.” “She’s at the school, the one you recommended, Pol. You told me she’d get a good education there.” “We were wrong, Thomas, wrong to send her away.” “What’s all this, eh?” he frowned, “We had no choice and she alright where she is. We took care of it.” With a wave of her hand, Polly referred to Finn, “He feels she’s in danger.” And Tommy turned to his youngest brother, raising his eyebrows sarcastically, “Is that right?” “I have a bad feeling, Tom…” Finn said uncertainly. “He’s been dreaming of seagulls,” Polly emphasized, locking eyes with her nephew. “Fucking seagulls…” he rubbed his head, “More gypsy witchcraft?” Swiftly, she slapped Tommy across the face, “You’ve forgotten where you’re from.” Quickly, Tommy’s face went through a range of emotions. First there was anger and the urge to strike back. Then there was the reaction of wanting to hide, like he was being chastised just like when he was little. The hurt over her comment came next, swiftly followed by a sense of shame, because she was right. His face settled on worry over his youngest sister. “What do we do?” “What will happen if we get her back to Small Heath?”

Tommy lit a cigarette and thought out loud, “Connor wants her dead. He has high influence in the police and he’s using her as leverage, after having seen her at the races.” “Y/N didn’t kill that soldier!” Finn called out, full of indignation. “Yes, we know…” Tommy said in a low voice, “But that doesn’t fucking matter because no one’s going to believe our word for it against his.” “Who else knows?” Polly continued. “My guess is no one does yet…” “JOHN!” Polly howled suddenly and for a second Tommy could only blink. Then he continued, “If anyone else knew, we’d heard by now. I’m guessing he intends to save the information for when he can use it.” Aunt Polly bend down and started unlacing one of her boots. That’s when John walked in and he immediately paused when he felt the tension hang in the air. “Take this,” she ordered him and handed him the small revolver that she kept hidden in her boots, “Shoot Connor.” “Fucking what?” he nearly spit out his toothpick. John looked at Tommy for an explanation, but it didn’t come. Instead Tommy asked Polly, “Then what?” “We go to Oxford.” Tommy nodded slowly, “John, go on. Shoot the man. Get Arthur out of bed when you’ve done it.” Shrugging like it was just another small task he had to fulfil without much enthusiasm, John walked off with the gun in hand. But Finn said carefully, “What if I was wrong?” “Have you ever been wrong about your sister?” Aunt Polly asked, “Apart from that time you thought she was in love with that Jewish boy…” “No.” “Trust your gut, Finn,” Tommy confirmed, “Pol’s right.” Aunt Polly smiled at him with an almost motherly warmth, “Let’s bring Y/N home.” *** Eventually you were moved to the hospital wing of the school. The neglect and lack of food had caused your body to shut down and you could no longer force yourself to get up each morning. At first, you were branded lazy and got punished for it. Finally, even the nuns acknowledged this was serious and the last thing they needed was another girl dying at their school. You’d lost all feeling for days, drifting in and out of sleep. One nun took care of you and she was different from the others. During your hazy periods, she tried to persuade you to eat, but with the last strength you did have, you refused. If you were to die, it’d be your own choice. “Y/N…” someone whispered to you gently. You tried to open your eyes, but it felt like lifting bricks with muscles you did not have. “Y/N,” the voice said again, and you realised this wasn’t the nun. Slowly you opened your eyes and saw Anna, sitting by the side of your bed. “What do you want?” you croaked. She looked down and said, “I came to see you.” “Why?” “Because I’ve made a mistake.”

You didn’t care for her feelings. You knew she despised you just like the others did and you didn’t need another girl gloating by your bed. So you decided to just wait and not answer her. “The girls told me you were scum,” she continued, “that you didn’t belong here. They said that’s why you always got into trouble, because you’re just Birmingham working-class trash.” Great, you thought, and how is this supposed to help? “When they told me to not talk to you, I listened. I thought it would help, that I would fit in more and the nuns wouldn’t beat me like I saw them do with others. But I was wrong.” “The nuns don’t need a reason,” you replied before you could stop yourself, “Reasons help, but they will find a way to vent their cruelty, no matter what.” “That night,” Anna said, “you talked to me and asked me who I missed. You were the only one that asked me why I was crying.” “I didn’t want you to feel too alone…” Anna nodded, “I know. That’s why I’m here.” But you didn’t understand, “Why are you here?” “Y/N. You’re not alone. Tell me, who do you miss?” Much to your own annoyance, tears welled up in your eyes. For last couple of months you had tried so hard not to think of Finn, Arthur, John and Ada. And you tried to ban Polly and Tommy especially from your mind, always wondering why they didn’t want you. Your heart can be cruel like that: those who don’t want you, you miss the most. Anna took your hand in hers and for the first time you felt another human being without pain. And so you started telling her of your brothers, of your aunt, of the horses and factories and of the streets of Small Heath. Anna didn’t say a word, but she listened intensely. After you’d cried all your tears and there were no more stories left to tell, all she said was, “Please. Eat.” When she offered you soup, you ate. *** It was a sight to behold: Polly Gray walking through the city of academia with four brothers practically having to run after her to keep up. When she arrived at the front doors of the convent, she didn’t ask to come in, but simply walked on into the halls. “Aunt Pol,” John ventured, “What do we do?”

“Keep up,” she said simply. Arthur looked around nervously. He didn’t like nuns and convents. But Tommy and Finn scanned every room and corner for you. Left and right, girls looked up in surprise as the strange family invaded their home. “Who’s that?” they whispered. But the nuns urged them away and said, “No one. Don’t look at them. They don’t belong here.” Tommy frown deepened as he noticed the faces of the girls. These weren’t what he expected. Of course, he wasn’t familiar with schools like this one, but he knew education played a part. These girls all looked tired, downtrodden and most of them were cleaning or scrubbing the floors. He shared a look with Aunt Polly and she nodded in understanding. “How are we going to find her?” Finn asked. “Oi!” Arthur called out to one of the girls, who jumped up at his voice, “Y/N, you know her?” “No, sir…” she shook. “Listen to my voice,” John added, “What about a girl who sounds like me?” And then one other girl stepped forward and she tilted her chin up high as a sign of arrogance, “She’s not here.” “And whyis she not here?” Polly asked pointedly. The girl got nervous, but tried to keep composure, “Because she’s filth and this is a decent school.” Again, Tommy looked around at the skinny girls, all dressed in the same drab depressing dressed, “Decent, eh?” His low menacing voice knocked all the attitude out of her, so she changed her mind, “She was taken to the hospital ward a few weeks ago.” “Where,” Arthur demanded. “North wing,” she gulped.

Aunt Polly marched through the halls like a woman on a mission. Her face bore a gritty look of determination and none of the bells, smoke and threats of a holy place could make her quiver. In fact, God shook as she walked passed.

Still, one nun tried to stop her, but before she could open her mouth in protest, Aunt Polly had pushed her aside and casually commented, “Better get out of the way, sister, you certainly won’t be the first woman of God I’ve knocked down.” When they entered the hospital wing, they walked into another depressing space filled with beds in lines. Most of them were empty, but one nun stood up and walked over to Polly. Her first instinct was to actually knock down this one, but when she saw her soft face, she paused. “Y/N Shelby,” she demanded, “We’ve come to take her home.”

“You’re her aunt?” the nun asked, “She’s asked for you.” “Is she alright?” Finn stepped forward, “What was wrong with her?” “We thought she might not make it. She stopped eating, you see,” the nun explained. John frowned and protested, “That’s not Y/N. She would never refuse food, unless…” Tommy didn’t need to hear the ‘unless’; worry was already eating him alive inside. So he walked around in search for his sister. He found her in a bed, with another girl sitting next to her. His sister was asleep. “Who are you?” Polly demanded harshly. But the brothers couldn’t speak when they saw their sisters. You were too skinny, eyes sunken deep and bruises were still visible on your face. The long black hair was gone. In many ways, it wasn’t their sister anymore, just a shell. The nun answered when the other girl was too afraid to, “This is Y/N’s friend. She came to visit her every day, even though she wasn’t allowed to.” Polly lifted one eyebrow, “Then why did you allow it?” “Anna got Y/N to eat again. She’s the reason she’s alive.”

Anna. Polly walked over to her and carefully took her hand, “You watched over my niece.” “I didn’t want her to feel alone. She felt abandoned, she said…” Anna said in a soft voice. Polly shook her head in an effort to banish the emotions, “Thank you, Anna. You’re a good friend and a guardian angel.” “What did they do to her?” John asked her through gritted teeth. “She was isolated, singled out for being… different.” Anna explained without meeting their eyes, “She tried to fight them from the start, but never won. She kept trying to run away. They beat her, kept her locked up in the cellar, but when the other girls turned on her and she thought she would never leave this place, she just… gave up.” Slowly, Finn had walked over to the other side of the bed. Clumsy but lovingly, he started stroking the hair out of your face. Seagulls, he thought. “Who’s in charge here?” Tommy suddenly spoke. “The mother superior has an office down the hall,” the nun said, “Anna can take you there.” “No,” Anna gasped, “I can’t…” Fear was written all over her face.

“What’s wrong with the office?” Tommy asked her with unusual kindness. “It’s where she…” And in an instant they all understood. So Tommy demanded, “Tell that woman to come here.” “She won’t like it, sir…” “You fuckingtell her to come here,” Tommy spat filled with venom, “Or I will burn this entire place down to the ground, and don’t think for a second I won’t fucking do it.” So the nun with the gentle face nodded and walked off. Somehow, Tommy’s explosion had triggered some old memories in you. Before you were properly awake, you dreamed of being back in your bed in Small Heath. The smell of the factories penetrated your nose and you could hear your family arguing. But when you opened your eyes, they were actually there. You looked at them one by one and stopped at Finn, “You said you’d explain.” “And I will,” he said, “when we get home.” “Am I allowed to go home?” you questioned in disbelieve. Aunt Polly shook her head, “You should’ve never been anywhere else.” “Can’t protect you if you’re not at home…” Tommy added with a slight hint of guilt in his voice. “It’s safe now,” John said, “I’ve dealt with it.” And just the way he said it made you smile a little. “Arthur, John,” Tommy started ordering them in his usual business-like manner, “Take Y/N out of here.” And Arthur lifted you out of the bed into his arms like it was nothing. “Finn, you go with them. Make sure you get her things.” At that, John pulled a gun and Finn nodded solemnly. “What about Anna?” you asked, looking at your friend, “I won’t leave her here.” “Pol and I are going to have a word with the mother superior,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly. You sighed in relief, but Anna still had a look of confusion on her face, “What will that do? She won’t listen to anyone.” “She’ll listen to us, love,” Polly said to her with a reassuring smile that left very little room for arguments, “We’ll make sure of it.” You smiled at Anna too, “This convent will be closed by tomorrow. Trust me.” “We’ll see you at home, Y/N,” Tommy said, “And then we’ll talk.” Just before Arthur walked out of the door with you in your arms, Aunt Polly ran over to you and pressed a kiss on your forehead, “Safe journey, sweetheart.” Then there was just Tommy and Polly left, clearing their faces of all sentiment and hardening their features. Arms crossed, they waited and knew what had to be done, and nothing would stop them from doing it.

“Mr. Shelby, Mrs. Gray?” the hospital nun had reappeared, “The mother superior will see you now.”

***

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butwhatifidothis · 3 years

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So. Took a look into that fic @nilsh13 is going through the comments of. Dunno if I’ll actually go through the entire thing - 300k words is certainly a lot of words to read through, especially with it still updating, but I’ve read through/am reading through longer ones - but I jumped to the latest chapter to get a feel for where the fic’s at now.

I’m not halfway through the chapter and I have Words To Say lmao, under the cut

This is going to be as serious a critique about the sections I’ve selected as possible - I want to be clear why I think what is being written is not of high quality, pointing out specifically what I have wrong with it.

Here are some snippets of the fic (boldened), and following those snippets are my thoughts on them:

“My actions have caused immense turmoil, pitting friend against friend, mother against daughter, and brother against sister*,” muttered Edelgard, desperately trying to drive any hint of self-pity (emphasis mine) from her voice. “My best friend has been disowned by her family, Hubert and Ferdinand’s fathers are dead or imprisoned, and the woman I love is now deemed a heretic by the Church that once offered her shelter. The weight of my decisions seems to pull down all who are caught in the shadow of the Imperial crown.” The Flame Emperor gave Professor Hanneman a wan smile. “Whatever imagined slights you believe you have committed against me, they pale in comparison to the carnage my own words and deeds have unleashed.”

""I made my choice, the only choice I could make, and dragged this continent down to hell with me. It makes me a poor ruler, and an even baser person, but that was the path I knew I must take.""

“"It is funny you use the word ‘choice’, Miss Edelgard. When I resigned my title to study at Garreg Mach, I lost marriage prospects, became penniless outside of a small stipend…I even renounced the opportunity to have a family.” Hanneman smiled, his whole body suffused with melancholy. “Really, how could I dare to dream of bringing a daughter into a world this senseless and cruel, knowing that someday, she too, could be hurt in such a way? I…I would not survive it.” The man’s body shook. “I sacrificed those things, things I desperately wanted, because the chance to allow my sister to rest in peace was more important. And I would make that choice again, despite all that it has cost me. You are much the same.”"

"“But your sacrifices were your own,” protested the Emperor of Adrestia. “Thousands bleed for the choices that I have made, and sacrifice themselves for the cause that I have placed before them. There is a profound difference-“"

"“We are both wise enough to know a painful truth,” said the scholar with a melancholy smile. “No matter how grave the sins, no matter how many innocents suffer…there will be countless individuals who will defend the law not because it is just, or righteous, but because it is the law. They will permit a hundred Abysses, and a thousand women to be raped, and a million dead children, as long as such actions do not disturb their order.” He placed a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder. “To stand against such moral rot, knowing that the world will despise and vilify you for it, is the truest sign of not only a just ruler, but a good woman.”"

"The academic’s words blazed with the passion of both a scholar and a man who had watched his world crumble to ash. A man who had been forced to live in the remnants of a life forever altered by the cruelty of both society and of humanity. And yet he had fought, the only way he could, to make the world better. It gave the Flame Emperor new resolve."

"“I…” He turned and looked away. “I believe in you, Miss Edelgard. When I see you, and your determination, your spirit, your bravery in choosing not what is easy, but what is right…it reminds me of her.” Fingers clenched around his locket. “I will fight for you, in the way I should have fought for my sister, long ago. My strength is meagre, and my courage more meagre still. However, all of it is yours.”"

The author writes Edelgard as one trying to give pity onto herself for her actions, despite how negatively they affect her, due to the immense ramifications those actions have had on those both around her and those under her care. This is the appropriate response to someone who has done as morally dubious an action as starting and spearheading a war that has led to the deaths and suffering of countless innocent people, some of whom were undoubtedly already going through immense suffering without war compounding itself onto their already existing pain. She - rightfully - points as, as a negative towards herself, that she has forced thousands of people to sacrifice their lives, livelihoods, friends, family, homes, etc. in order to continue with her war. Edelgard's canonical self-justification - that she had no other choice to do this - is properly utilized, and further characterization is given to her when she herself recognizes that performing such horrendous actions on the people under her care makes her a poor ruler and terrible person. This is, in truth, a decent set-up for her to go onto a possible path of redemption or self-realization.

However, that progress is forcibly stopped and reverted by Hanneman justifying her actions and recontextualizing them in a morally good light. In fact, the entire story does this, as characters act wildly out of character in order for Edelgard to be seen as good in comparison to them. Focusing on the quoted lines, however, Hanneman relating him giving up nobility and going into momentary poverty - whether true to canon or not - to Edelgard's war actively paints her actions as something that she had a right to be making, which she does not, as they force others to make sacrifices for her cause. When she herself rightfully points this discrepancy out, Hanneman excuses her actions by pointing to another - supposed - source of turmoil and essentially saying "You are more right than x, therefore your y actions are not only better, but objectively good, and make you a good person." He says nothing of the inherent injustice of taking away the choice of the people to live as they want and fight for who they want as well as deliberately taking away any semblance of safety from them, and makes objective statements about Edelgard's moral righteousness despite her taking actions that would, by definition, make her moral righteousness a subjective matter at minimum.

Hanneman is projecting the image of his sister and his own personal sense of justice onto Edelgard, and thus sees her as just as much a victim of the war and society as everyone else. Edelgard is a young woman who has gone through trauma due to Crests, as was his sister, and he himself (in this story, though not within the quoted lines) wanted to beat the man who abused his sister to death, and so he sees Edelgard using violence as a means to achieve justice as not only not questionable, but morally good and brave, as he felt he was not brave enough to enact "justice" onto the man that caused his sister's death. Instead of this being settled, focused on, or even mentioned, despite its obvious nature due to deliberate connections Hanneman himself makes, it is used as a means to showcase that Hanneman is a, for lack of a better term, "expert" on what he is saying when speaking to Edelgard. He knows what it's like to want to force change, he has by-proxy experienced the apparent injustice of the Church - not human society, not his family's decision to allow his sister to be married off, not the man who caused her death's decision to discard her, but strictly the Church and only the Church - and so he can "rightfully" justify and excuse Edelgard's morally questionable actions and paint them in a solely positive light, with no nuance or gray whatsoever.

Edelgard, in the first quote, attempts to say her actions without a tone of self-pity, and yet the narrative itself pities Edelgard. She should be allowed to feel bad about her actions - not because they are causing unfathomable suffering on people who were underserving, but because they’re just hard decisions that she was good and brave to make and maybe she can feel a little bad for herself for making them. She shouldn't feel responsible for choosing to start the war - in fact, did she really have a choice, or did everyone else in society force her to? She shouldn't question whether she's a good person or not, because she simply is - no debate, no question. She is - “justly” - standing up against "moral rot"; that she does so with even more moral rot is irrelevant, because, according to the story, it is not as rotten as that she's up against, therefore it is no longer rotten in the first place. War has been completely justified, as it is now not the last resort of desperation that could only ever be morally grey at its absolute best, but an objectively morally white decision of an objectively morally white person who is facing an objectively morally black opponent.

The actions of other characters attempt to paint Edelgard as someone closer to the former, but I will - maybe - eventually go over how those characters are extremely mischaracterized in order to prop Edelgard as their moral superior.

#anti edelgard #Anti-edelgard #Edelgard critical #o captain my captain #<- borrowing nilsh's tag for this lmao in case I do end up continuing this #but yeah from just the latest chapter there are characters that 100% cheerlead for the pure righteousness that is Edelgard #so yeah that's... gonna be fun lmao

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

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chile i'm so glad i came across your blog, the amount of "i'm not going to assume they're dating" or "we can only draw certain conclusions but i can't say for sure" "we don't know their sexuality, BUT" type blogs i follow is getting kinda wack lmao. while i appreciate their perspective and nuanced takes i need to strike a balance. like let's get a lil delulu every once in a while. 💀

lol the im-not-a-shipper-but-call-jikook-boyfriends-every-other-post blogs are the funniest to me. the shipping hierarchy, so to speak is so weird. maybe just because im not a "shipping real people is bad" person i don't see the big deal. gonna get called delulu anyway, might as well go full out. they is gay/queer and they're fucking. i'm so sorry.

*also can we touch on the fact that shipping in this type of fandom (kpop) is kind of inevitable and unavoidable??! these boys are the other people we see them with day in and day out, interacting with each other and no one else. i feel like it's natural to ship when there's no other people around to break up everything, idk maybe someone can articulate this better than me. and people who are made to feel stupid for thinking that 2 members could actually be dating is so dumb. like is it really out of the realm of possibility that two people (jikook, cause all them other ships are....😬) who spent almost every waking minute together for like 8 years could fall in love. really?

/rant

It's the delulu hat for me

Lmho.

I guess for me being queer, I feel it's gaslighting for these people to be saying things like that. As silly as it is, it inadvertently deny and invalidate the existence and queerness of gay individuals and so I struggle with it.

This is the consequences of straight people in gay people business. They like defining gay parameters for us and it's like who asked you?? I feel people who say things like that are just plain ignorant or tone deaf or willfully homophobic.

I don't think everyone in BTS is gay but it makes me feel safe to see half the community assume them to be and celebrate them in that way. They are not cussing at them and threatening to leave the fandom or cancel them for this assumption and that is huge inspiration to me.

Those parts of the fandom are a safe space to be in as a queer army.

When people assume a person's queer sexuality they are simply admitting to themselves at the very least that LGBTQ EXISTS. This is important to me because I grew up in a community where LGBTQ didn't even exist in the collective consciousness of the people and EVERYONE IS AUTOMATICALLY ASSUMED TO BE STRAIGHT AND EXPECTED TO BE.

People read people's sexuality all the time and have done so since time immemorial and a lot of the time when they have had a sexuality read it's in the lines of straight, cis, rich, poor, superior or inferior. And that is a problem for some of us too because that discrepancy in the assumptions is as a result of homophobia and heteronormativity.

That whole don't assume a person's queer sexuality debacle sounds to me like a boujee way of denormalizing and preventing the normalization of queerness disguised under care, disguised under intelligence and disguised under wokeness. Especially when straightness is the default setting in this giant blue bulb.

We need to radicalize that. We need to change the cis straight default setting and if you are perpetuating this narrative you really aren't helping the situation. SIT DOWN.

I'm rarely assumed to be queer in certain circles and while that makes me feel comfortable within those circles it often times make it hard for me to admit my queerness openly in those circles too because I fear I will lose that comfort and respect and love and privileges that comes with being percieved straight in those spaces.

When I started my blog, I noticed some people assumed I was white and would use certain black descriptors as slurs when describing other people to me. I quickly had to switch the formal way in which I wrote to a much casual tone so my blackness would show through. Don't get it twisted. She black. She blackidy black black.

Then on the other hand, I was hesitant to let my queerness be known too because being black, I was marginalized as it is- you is black, or sound black💀 you know how it is- it's that intersectionality of oppression at play. Double double homicide.

When certain people realized I was black POC minority, their attitude towards me changed. I had those who didn't so much understand what black language is or perhaps wasn't used to being in black spaces and were uncomfortable with my blackness- these would take offense at me saying certain things in certain ways. Like chilee relax Karen, all I said was these motherfukkers gay as shit and they gay. Why you acting like I called them twinks or sommin. Right there, I'm cancelled for calling Jikook motherfuckers. They get sirens and everything😭😭😭😭😭😭

Same vein, I struggle destraightening myself or correcting people who assume I'm straight because I fear they will treat me differently if they knew I wasn't.

Straight privilege exists in the same way as white or even pretty privilege may exist and because these exist there's that automatic conception of queer, poc, ugly, fat disemfranschismet to run along side it.

People treat you differently based on how they perceive you. That's a fact. And for queer people, perceiving us as straight is the only way we get to be treated as human by the masses. And a lot of us embrace that- straight until proven gay am I right 🤣🤣🤣🤣

It's the duper's delight for me. Untill you catch me with a 5'8 melanin skinned silk pressed auntie on my left nipple good luck proving I'm gay.

It can be fun, I akekeke when some people around me are totally oblivious to the fact and even sometimes defend my straightness with their dying breath when nasty friends throw them shades or try to out me unprovoked.

A lot of us don't want to admit we are gay because we don't want to be disenfranchised.

I speak for myself when I say this.

But 'Don't assume someone's sexuality' is a double edged censorship used for and against queer people. It seemly offers protection on the surface of it for queer people but underneath it promotes heteronormativity and standardizes straightness and it is also used to promote closet culture, under the disguise of care and concern for the autonomy of queer people but that is a fallacy because our autonomy has never mattered to anyone since the dawn of homophobia.

And I don't know where this interpretation comes from. Why do people not want to assume queer people's sexuality but it's ok to assume straight people's???

It feels like a hijacked movement to me.

THIS IS THE ACCURATE MOVEMENT AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED.

Don't assume all people are straight. It's ok to assume some people are queer because queer people exists too.

It is wrong however to assume queerness based on how a person talks, walks, dresses or even on their body type. That is stereotyping. And stereotyping is wrong.

When it comes to Jikook, Jimin is often stereotyped as gay more so than Jungkook because they have different body structures. Jungkook is stereotyped too solely because of the way his wrists hang, or based on moments he's femininity shines through.

But I don't think shippers stereotype Jikook in that way at all. I dont think shippers believe Jikook are dating eachother simply because Jungkook applied setting powder to his face that one time. They assume they are gay only because they believe those two to be dating eachother. That is not stereotyping. If those two were heterosexuals I don't think people will accuse their shippers of stereotyping.

It's one thing to assume Kai is gay because he looks skinny and dances well. It's another to assume he is gay because in a relationship with Gdragon. And if people can't tell the difference between the two, they should get some education and stop talking about things they know nothing about or only know because they stumbled across user69 on Twitter. They are not helping.

Untill people get offended when people assume others are straight, that rhetoric doesn't matter in its inequality. If you ask me, everyone is gay until proven straight.

Yet how many people will take offense at that?

Assuming people can be gay is not delulu.

It's ok to assume people can be gay. It's wrong to stereotype them as gay. If you can't assume they are gay, don't assume they are straight and don't assume at all. Run with this sis.

Wait, they don't ship Jikook but they call Jikook boyfriends???????👀👀👀👀👀

The fake woke syndrome will kill people in this fandom with these mentally confused thought crisis bunch💀💀💀💀

Jikook themselves are shippers💀

Smh

GOLDY

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skybird13 · 4 years

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Why I Think Fair Game Works

So we’re coming up on the midway point in this mini RWBY vol. 7 hiatus, and I have a serious addiction to Fair Game. With no more canon content coming out for another week (😭), I thought I’d provide some self-indulgent rambling in-depth analysis as to exactly why I think Qrow and Clover work so well together. I’ll be pulling off of what we have in the show so far (because I tend to base my ships off of canon context), but I’ll also be making some reasonable assumptions regarding Clover’s character since we don’t have a whole lot on him yet.

[Note: I’m not really trying to sway anyone with this post, so if you don’t agree or don’t like FG, feel free to scroll right on by and have a nice day. I’m all for discourse but that’s not the point of this particular post. Make your own and invite me to engage and we can have a convo.)

That being said, and without further ado, here are my top reasons for being Fair Game trash. Be forewarned, this is loooong. Damn thing turned into a dissertation.

Reason #1: Clover is a source of stability

One of the biggest criticisms I’ve seen aimed at Fair Game (aside from the more inane ones, which I will not dignify with an acknowledgment on this post) is that Qrow hates specialists. And people are right. It’s one of the first insights we get into his character in his volume 3 debut episode, right after the fact that he’s an alcoholic. I completely agree that if these two men had met in volume 3 or even 4, there is no way they would have gotten along. Clover is a soldier. A military man. He goes by the book and, in his mind, there’s not a lot of wiggle room when it comes to doing things the right way (see: his conversation with Robyn). He would have driven volume 3 Qrow up the wall, and not in a sexy way.

But the fact is, Qrow has been through a hell of a lot since then. He lost Ozpin twice (once to death and once to the lies Oz himself told), lost his way and sense of purpose because of it, almost died on multiple occasions, fell into deep emotional darkness, came under the influence of the Apathy, and had to finally acknowledge his own depression and poor coping mechanisms, or lack thereof, as a result. Shit like that changes you in deep and fundamental ways and, while I would have loved for a bit more in-show focus on this transition, I think RT gave us enough to infer the rest.

Thanks mostly to Ruby, Qrow is finally in a place where he is trying to heal for the first time since we’ve known him. He started the show as an impulsive– albeit manipulative and brilliant (see: him baiting Winter into a fight)– alcoholic who had no problem whatsoever with getting under people’s skin. The only relationships he really seemed to value were the ones he had with his nieces and with Ozpin, and everyone else could take a flying leap. Now I can’t deny that there was a certain charm to that. It’s one of the reasons I think he became such a fan favorite so rapidly; a lot of us can relate to that desire to not give a shit. But the underlying implications of that type of behavior are, I believe, pretty damn dark and serve as the earliest signs of Qrow’s depression and emotional isolation. Consider: his only functional relationships were with people who were incapable of really knowing him on a deeply personal level. Oz couldn’t because he was the one to give Qrow a purpose, thereby establishing a certain power imbalance in their relationship, no matter how close they were (I love Oz despite his mistakes before anyone comes after me for that statement and have nothing against Oz x Qrow, these are just my thoughts). And Ruby and Yang couldn’t, and still can’t, because they’re his damn nieces and being the adult in a relationship with kids means you maintain a certain distance between them and any insecurities or struggles you might have. Anything else is just not okay. He bungled that in volume 6 but he has clearly been trying to re-establish that supportive adult role in volume 7, which is amazing all by itself.

This brings us to Qrow’s emotional and mental state at the start of volume 7. Again, he’s in a place where he’s trying to heal. I don’t know how many people can relate, but that place is friggin’ terrifying because it’s the place where you have to stop lying to yourself about your problems and commit to dealing with them. But it also comes with a weird level of mental… stillness? Peace isn’t the right word, but when you’re not constantly fighting yourself anymore, you are able to breathe a little and that’s worth a lot to someone who has been trying to suffocate themselves for most of their lives. I think this has a lot to do with his shift in outlook. He’s less antagonistic because it no longer serves to feed the self-loathing monster inside him. Or rather, he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t feed it. The fact that he comes into Mantle, gets arrested for doing his job, and doesn’t immediately get in James’s face, or Winter’s for that matter, attests to the fact that he has changed. Qrow isn’t the one to call James out on the embargo or the state of things in Mantle. Instead, he steps into a role that we have never seen him in: the gentle voice of reason. He points out that James doesn’t need an entire military presence to build and launch the communications tower, and when James reveals his plans to tell the world about Salem, Qrow doesn’t outright disagree or go after him for it (as he certainly would have in earlier volumes). He simply points out that Oz spent every lifetime he had keeping that secret and then lets James explain his reasoning (flawed as it might be).

In short, all that outward anger he displayed in earlier volumes was most likely a manifestation of the self-hate storm he had brewing inside. Now that he’s decided to try to move away from that, he’s different. Of course he is. It would be completely unreasonable to expect otherwise.

Enter Clover Ebi. By sheer virtue of being who he is, Clover provides a source of stability for Qrow that he both sorely needs and has severely lacked up to this point in his life. Healing is an internal and independent process for the most part, and Qrow is going to have to sort out his issues on his own, but having someone in your life during that process who is solid is invaluable. And so far, Clover has been nothing but solid. He has been the one to pull Qrow back from bad old habits (self-deprecation and self-hate regarding his semblance). He’s been the one to take Qrow’s semblance in stride and even to get him to joke about the whole concept of having luck, good or bad, for a semblance. And so far? He’s done all of this with absolutely no strings attached. He’s not like Oz, who needed Qrow to be functional enough to carry out his spying missions, and he’s not like Ruby or Yang, who reasonably need Qrow to be solid for them because he’s their uncle. Clover is the first person who doesn’t need anything from Qrow, and so he is able to offer the type of emotional support that Qrow has never received from anyone else. They’re not even official battle partners, despite them being paired quite a bit. The lack of strings, of ulterior motives, of complicated and messy ties, and even of familial bonds, means that Clover can be the solid one. He can be a safe place where Qrow can fall apart and put himself back together if he needs to, because nothing is going to cave in if he does. Qrow won’t be putting too much weight on his nieces or on someone who relies on him for information and support. He can lean on Clover without having to worry about any repercussions.

Reason #2: Qrow is a source of disruption

Now for the fun flipside of my first point. While Clover provides a source of stability for Qrow, Qrow has the very real potential to provide a much-needed source of disruption for Clover, thereby balancing out what we have gotten of their relationship dynamic so far.

Being a military man, stringent structure and unconditional loyalty to his superiors are likely major aspects of Clover’s character. We have enough in the show so far to assume that’s accurate about him even if it hasn’t been blatantly stated.

Clover carries out his orders without fail, to the point of arresting a bunch of kids and Qrow in Mantle for operating outside of official parameters. His conversation with Robyn is also extremely telling. He doesn’t have a problem with what she wants; he has a problem with how she’s trying to get it. He doesn’t believe that the ends justify the means and, in that same vein, probably also believes that institutions are there for good reason. He is the epitome of lawful good.

Qrow, on the other hand, has never operated within official parameters. He was a spy, for god’s sake, and therefore is intimately familiar with the inherent grayness of the world. He’s not someone who is going to see things in black and white, and because of this, he could offer a sort of push back against Clover’s blind loyalty to Ironwood.

Not only is Qrow not in the military, and therefore not bound by its restrictions and dictates, but he has known James for a long time. He, more than anyone, is in the perfect position to call James out on his crap, and he’s probably the one with the best chance of actually getting through to him. Not with the same aggression and vehemence he displayed in volume 3, but with more of a tough-love approach. I fully expect this to happen at some point (and will be very sad if it doesn’t. I like James and want him to snap out of all this).

So how does this relate to Clover? Well, it forces him to acknowledge that, military or not, always trusting that the people above you are doing the right thing or the best thing is never a good way to go. He would have to step back and re-evaluate his general approach to life, which is the core of character growth. Clover never questions authority (that we’ve seen) whereas Qrow’s existence has always been in stark contrast to it. If anyone is going to act as a catalyst for Clover’s potential evolution from strict military man to a more free-thinking, free-acting individual, it’s going to be Qrow. And I think the pieces are set-up for that exact thing to happen.

Obviously, we’ll have to wait and see where CRWBY takes this one (if they take it anywhere) but the potential for growth from Clover is there because Qrow has come into his life. One of the best things couples can do is challenge each other, and these two are primed to do exactly that.

Reason #3: Opposites attract for a reason

We’ve all heard the phrase, right? Opposites attract. Sometimes I think this statement falls victim to a lot of misunderstandings so let me clarify what I mean by this. I don’t mean their chosen routes in life (rogue and spy vs. structured military man), or their semblances, or even their different combat styles. I’m talking about the complementary nature of their personalities.

Qrow has always been a bit impulsive. It’s been established that he sometimes doesn’t fully think things through, or if he does, he doesn’t care about the consequences and is willing to deal with them (see: his battle with Winter again). Don’t get me wrong. The guy is brilliant. He baits Winter knowing it will give him the opportunity to pick a fight with James as well and call him on his shit. But I’m pretty sure he also does this knowing full well that’s all he’s going to get: a fight. He’s not going to convince James not to bring the full Atlas military presence in for the Vytal Festival by shouting at him. He knows this and does it anyway. In his fight with Tyrian, you can see more than one instance where he’s planning his moves so his semblance has the chance to work on his opponent, but it’s at the risk of his own safety as well (see: the roof stunt). There are plenty of other examples throughout the show. Qrow runs off instinct and momentum.

Clover, on the other hand, strikes me as someone who exercises a bit more caution in his life. He thinks through a situation before he steps into it and overall just seems a little slower to take action. This is true in combat situations, as the whole mine mission was meticulously planned out beforehand. You can also see this approach mirrored in the way the Ace Ops work on the whole. Vine and Elm definitely don’t rush in when they encounter Grimm in the mine, and while Marrow and Harriet might be a bit faster to go after the main target, they don’t do it without a fully formed plan. It’s not foolproof, obviously. Marrow does cut off that piece of Dust with no one there (that he knows of) to catch it, but the point is still valid.

This tendency to go slow and feel his way is also true in Clover’s personal life. In the truck scene, you can see him watching Qrow while he talks, gauging his reactions, trying to find the best way to reach him. Nothing he says is mere chitchat. It’s all meant to pull Qrow into a conversation, which Clover tries to keep focused on Qrow himself. His opener might be Ruby but he ditches that line of thought as soon as Qrow gives him the opening to do so and shifts his attention to where he really wants it to be: getting to know Qrow.

Then you also have Qrow’s penchant for falling into dark mental places balanced against Clover’s good mood and playfulness; Qrow’s willingness to be a little more open with his emotions and Clover’s tight emotional control; the fact that Qrow feels things fully and deeply while I suspect that Clover might have emotional walls he hasn’t learned how to lower yet; Clover’s ability to follow orders and Qrow’s ability to question. And that’s all out of only 3-ish minutes of total interaction between them so far. I think as the volume goes, we’ll only get more insight on the ways in which they balance and round each other out.

Reason #4: Shared semblances

So this has been the biggest kicker for people so far, and I’ve seen it as a point both in favor of and against FG. Some people theorize that Clover’s semblance might have some balancing effect on Qrow’s, making it much safer for Clover to be around him than it is for others. Others think that it might be more of a trade-off: good luck part of the time and bad luck the other part (I’m in favor of this). And yet others seem to see Clover’s semblance as a negative thing for Qrow, somehow dampening his own semblance or countering it to the point that it’s mentally or emotionally detrimental for him. I personally don’t quite see the logic behind this given what we’ve seen so far, but I’ll just make my point and get out of this debate because the truth is that we still don’t quite know how their semblances function together.

What we do know is that they are two sides of the same coin, and as such, are not nearly as far apart as they might have seemed at first. They both carry around luck semblances, which I assume is pretty damn rare. Almost every other semblance we have seen has existed more in the practical realm (Yang’s damage absorption, Blake’s shadow self, Weiss’s glyphs, Ruby’s rose petal thing, Marrow’s ability to slow time, Tyrian’s ability to rip through Aura, etc. etc. etc.) And then we have these two who operate in the realm of chance, something intangible and completely unpredictable. They are fairly unique in the RWBY-verse in this sense, and uniqueness usually breeds a certain degree of separation.

A ton of theories are floating around about how Clover’s semblance has affected him throughout his life. I’ve posited a few myself. We obviously have no idea what the canon backstory for Clover is, and while I do think it’s pretty safe to assume that while Qrow has dealt with ostracization because of his semblance, Clover might have experience with some sort of idolization or even over-reliance (which can be damaging in its own right) because of his, there isn’t a whole lot we can speculate on without more information.

So where does that leave us? With the scene depicted above. Regardless of how their semblances might play off each other or what these two have suffered (or enjoyed) as a result of them, one thing is certain: they understand one another. Qrow may not know what it’s like to be able to draw good luck to himself, but he knows what it’s like when his semblance does work in his favor and screws over an opponent. Clover, by the same token, probably doesn’t understand what it’s like having to constantly watch out for misfortune, but he most likely does know what it’s like to have his semblance flip on him and give the edge to his opponent. Additionally, them both having such similar semblances means that learning to look for signs of each other’s being at work won’t be much of a stretch for them. They would be able to adapt pretty fast to working together. Note, I’m assuming their semblances function in the same way and that Clover has no more control over his than Qrow does because it just makes narrative sense.

This puts them in the unique position of being together in their semblances, even if they’re on opposite ends of the spectrum. Qrow has not exhibited any jealousy or bitterness towards Clover because of his semblance, and Clover sure as hell hasn’t put any distance between them out of concern for Qrow’s semblance. They get each other, and after only half a season, they have developed a level of comfort with one another that already allows them to joke about it. An inside joke that no one else could possibly understand. And that is some powerful shit for two people who have potentially (one person we know for certain has) been isolated in one way or another because of their semblances throughout their lives.

Reason #5: Clover is new

Okay, if anyone partial to a different Qrow ship has somehow made it through this monster of a post, you might want to skip this bit. Because I’m going to make an argument for why bringing in a new character to be Qrow’s love interest is actually a good idea. This is not to hate on I//ronqrow or S//nowbird or any other popular Qrow ship, but it might annoy the shit out of you so… fair warning. I’ll keep it brief, though.

I think Qrow getting involved with someone who he has no past connection to would be insanely good for him. When it comes to James or Winter or, really, anyone else who knew him before this volume, there is a lot of baggage there. And I mean a lot. At this point in his life, Qrow is dealing with enough of his own internal shit that throwing external interpersonal baggage on top of that probably wouldn’t help him in any way. Sometimes, you just need to start over somewhere (especially when you’re trying to pick up the pieces of yourself and figure out how they go together), and Clover offers Qrow the perfect opportunity to do that. There are no preconceptions that Qrow has to deal with, nothing he has to make up for or prove. Clover won’t be hovering over him anticipating a relapse or using his past behavior to interpret his current actions, or wondering why he’s changed, or holding things against him. He can figure out who he is now without the pressures of who he was hanging around his neck. And that, like so many other things these two have going for them, is unbelievably powerful.

Reason #6: They already have the nonverbal thing down

This one is more for funsies than anything, but come on. They’re already communicating non-verbally?

It took me a while to pinpoint that expression on Clover’s face but I finally got it: his brows don’t lower in annoyance or anger. They furrow: the universal sign of concern. What exactly he’s worried about, I’m not completely sure. It could be any number of things at this point, from a hint that he’s not totally supportive of this particular order he’s getting (bringing Robyn into custody) to a concern that he and Qrow might be approaching a clash point (not so far, though if Qrow is going to be the disruptive force Clover needs, that point is probably coming). Either way, this look speaks volumes. I’m just not entirely certain how to read it yet.

But in the interest of keeping up on the analysis, note his answer to James. It’s not a “yes sir” or a “whatever you say, sir”. He says “we’ll figure it out”. Qrow looks at him and only then does Clover shoot him that sideways glance thing. Is he making it clear that he means to include Qrow in this? That he wants Qrow’s help? That he knows they’re all in a crap situation but the Amity project is stalled and they need to try something so they should at least try this? They’re communicating something here and just because I don’t know what it is yet doesn’t mean this is any less significant in terms of their relationship. This kind of thing only happens when you click with someone and these two definitely click.

Bonus: They’re just so damn cute together

If you made it through that nonsense, congratulations! Have some Fair Game goodness as a reward. These two are adorable together and you will never convince me otherwise:

#fair game #qrow branwen #clover ebi #lucky charms #fairgame #rwby7 #rwby #holy shit this became a thing #it's seriously a behemoth of a post #enter at your own risk #cute pictures at the end #analysis #maybe a little too much #i don't care this was fun #took me all afternoon but whatever #enjoy!!!

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tiffanyelledge · 3 years

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Where Can I Get Kava Tea?

Kava tea has recently grown in popularity as one of the alternative remedies for anxiety. Is this just another fad or does it have real benefits? Before answering these questions, it is important to look at what this herbal tea really is and how it works. Unlike many herbal remedies, this tea is not created from any other plant but from a kava plant that grows wild in the mountains of Southern Mexico and South America. It has been used for centuries by the Aztecs and Mayans for various medicinal purposes.

Many people who are researching where can I get kava to help relieve their symptoms have asked this question before. Does kava tea really work? Does it really reduce the symptoms of anxiety? Does it contain any harmful side effects?

The first thing that should be noted about kava tea is that it is not addictive. Unlike some other herbal remedies, this one does not cause the user to experience physical withdrawal symptoms once they stop drinking it. This means that there is no need to worry if you decide to give up drinking this tea. The only negative effects that may occur are headaches which may increase in severity if the person decides to take a nap after drinking kava. These effects seem to subside after a few days of taking it.

The second thing to note about where can I get kava to treat my symptoms is that there are not any known ill effects. This is good news for anyone that might be suffering from a serious illness such as cancer or something of this nature. One of the main benefits of kava tea is its anti-inflammatory properties, which can reduce the symptoms of arthritis by reducing the number of redness and swelling that a person feels. It also has the ability to relieve stress, which can improve a person's mood and energy.

The third thing to know about where can I get kava is that it is available to buy online. In fact, it can be purchased online right now, however, you will need to make sure that the vendor is credible. There are many vendors online that are just trying to capitalize on the growing popularity of kava tea, and unfortunately, many of them are poor-quality products. It would be a good idea to purchase from well-respected websites which offer a refund or exchange policy if the kava tea proves to be a dud.

The fourth thing to know about where can I get kava tea is that there are several different types of kava tea available. This includes green, black, and blue. Each type has its own properties, which means that you will need to know what you want before you shop. Fortunately, there are some simple guidelines you can follow to choose the kava tea that is right for you:

Black kava tea is often more expensive than green tea, but it is far superior when it comes to kava benefits. As with green tea, you should handle it with care, as it is made from the stem of the plant. If you are pregnant or nursing, you should avoid this type of tea, as it can be quite toxic. Hopefully, these tips will help you answer the question, "where can I get Kava Tea?"

Green kava tea is the cheapest type of tea and is mainly sold in health shops and online. This is because it is made from the root of the kava plant, which can be fairly expensive. You will also need to be careful about how you handle this type of tea. If you have sensitive teeth, then it is not recommended, so stick with white tea.

#where can i get kava tea

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shadow-dancing · 3 years

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Guitar Man (Taeil)

Listen: Guitar Man ; Every time I’m With You ; New Kid in Town

Genre: white collar worker!Taeil, guitarist!Taeil, some angst, moonlighting Words: 2, 217

It was another crowded night at Pandora's Box, the pub in town that your uncle owned. Lately there has been a guitar playing man who was drawing in hoards of people to visit, & your uncle couldn't be happier by the boom in business. You weren't into pubs or bars—the stale air & smell of booze was a big turn off for your sensitive sense of smell, & the songs that usually blared at a billion decibels were not your cup of tea. Your uncle was singing this guitar man praises every night when he came home from work, & it was driving you slightly mad.

Your friend, Taeyong, was absolutely floored that you have never heard this person live when your uncle literally ran the place. "Come on, Y/N, the guy's great! Just go listen once, trust me."

You gave in after 3 weeks, & visited the establishment on a Monday night where you hoped the crowds would be less compared to the weekends. The pub air hit your nostrils like a sucker punch & you silently gagged as you made your way to the bar. You recognized the bartender, it was Johnny, the gentle giant whom you've known since your uncle opened the place about 3 years ago.

"Hey Y/N! What're you doing here?" Johnny asked with a wave. He was aware you were not a big fan of pubs.

"Came to see the newest sensation, of course," you smiled wryly, sitting gingerly on the bar stool.

"Ah, Taeil. He's great, the bars been busier than Times Square on New Year's Eve these past weeks. I think boss is considering hiring him permanently," Johnny nodded. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"I'll get Kun to make some fish & chips for you."

Soon you were tucking into your fish & chips with some iced Ribena. It was starting to get really crowded, & Johnny eventually got busy enough that he was making 3 drinks at the same time. You were tempted to leave; the amount of people in the relatively large space was probably over the maximum capacity at this point, & people had to jostle their ways around trying to find seats. At 7:45 the band that was playing stopped, said their thanks, & got off the stage. A relatively short young man, clad in a striped shirt under an oversized denim jacket & his dark hair side swept, took their place, a black guitar case slung over his shoulder & a bottle of water in hand. The crowd started murmuring excitedly, which gave you all you needed to know—this young man was Taeil. You were startled by his appearance when he turned around—he was wearing a white half mask to cover the upper half of his face.

Taeil adjusted the mic to fit his smaller stature, & perched on the stool that had been brought out for him. You watched as he produced an acoustic guitar from the case, & tuned it. He cleared his throat, took a quick sip of water, cleared his throat once more, & leaned into the mic a little.

"Good evening everyone—"

The crowd interrupted him with hoots & cheers. You rolled your eyes. Let the man speak, dammit.

Taeil smiled politely as the cheers died down. "I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight."

You pushed aside your empty plate, sipping your drink. A hush fell over the crowd as Taeil started playing.

"Are we going insane? Do we need to explain? I feel like we know it."

Your heart leaped. Taeyong & Johnny were wrong—he wasn't just good, he was damn good. The crowd slowed their activities, their eyes trained on him as he sang. The kitchen grew quieter as Johnny & Kun paused a moment to listen.

"I could lose it all it won't be daunting Somehow I don't think I'd even care Cuz every time I'm with you I feel wanted We could make believers if we dared"

As he finished the song, the people sighed; some wiped their tears & kissed their significant others, while others wallowed in loneliness. Taeil realized the mixed reaction & wanted to stammer an apology, but the crowd burst into applause & screamed for another song. He took a swig of water & started on the next song.

"Baby I don't know why, but somehow I always seem to get tangled up in my pride"

Taeil's set ended at 9.30, much to the dismay of the crowd. He waved shyly as he hopped off the stage & disappeared through a back door. Johnny & Kun resumed their work. & you gulped down the rest of your drink. Taeil's set was over, there no longer was a reason to hang around. As you lay in bed later that night, your heart was still pounding, the sweet vocals resonating in you ears.

You found yourself at the pub after work the next day. Johnny looked up as you approached, & you knew he could tell you couldn't get enough of Taeil. At the same time as yesterday, Taeil took the stage at 7:45, & today he asked the band to accompany him as he played a rendition of Got My Mind Set On You, Oh Pretty Woman, & Part Time Lover.

"Okay break time everyone! I need to hydrate!" Taeil laughed, leaving the mic.

He squeezed past his adoring fans & made it to the bar, where he asked for some lemon tea. Johnny handed it to him, & he downed it pretty fast, almost choking on the ice.

"You okay?" You asked, offering some serviettes.

"Yeah, fine. Forgot my bottle," Taeil reassured. He flashed you a smile, before heading off to the stage again.

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

Taeil scrubbed a hand over his eyes as the sun started to hang low. Work was exhausting as always, & he was more than ready to just up & leave the place. He glanced at his watch—4:55PM. 5 more minutes & he could clock out. He looked around to see what his colleagues were up to; Jungwoo was yawning widely as he typed away at his laptop, Yuta was scrawling away busily on some paper, probably doodling, & Jaehyun had his earphones plugged in—Taeil could make out some TV drama playing on Jaehyun's Netflix account. Taeil exhaled, glancing at his watch again.

Another 2 minutes to freedom.

He pushed his papers aside, pulling out a binder full of guitar chords from his bag. He flipped through the sheets to find a song to play at the pub. Are You Lonesome Tonight seemed good for a first song, maybe for the second song he could play—

"Aw yes! Finally time to leave this place!" Yuta announced loudly, standing up to stretch his arms.

"Not so loud! Do you want the boss to hear?" Taeil hissed, putting a finger to his lips.

"He left like 45 minutes ago," Jungwoo pointed out, shutting off his laptop.

"What? Really?" Jaehyun asked, taking his earphones out.

"Seriously? I thought you were watching that stupid TV drama because you knew he was gone!" Jungwoo exclaimed.

"No, I watched it because I don't want to do work. Tomorrow's a holiday for heaven's sakes why are we even here when we could've taken the day off."

"Oh whatever let's just get out of here," Yuta grumbled, packing up. "The pool table at Daydream is calling my name."

"Taeil, you joining us for pool?" Jungwoo asked. "Yuta is gonna go up against Doyoung later."

"No it's fine, I have something to do tonight. I'll see you all tomorrow, bye," Taeil said as he walked out the door.

He quickly got into his car, & drove home for a quick rinse. He found a clean shirt & threw on a black jacket & was out the door again with his guitar in hand. He was glad the owner of Pandora's Box let him play; he was tired of the tedious routine of his work days, & playing for the crowd for 1.5 hours was the one thing he looked forward to everyday, even if it meant he had to take a 2 hour drive to the pub. He had chanced upon the pub after the previous place he used to frequent got shut down due to poor business. He didn't even realize the crowds got less, as he was so focused on his playing.

Traffic was lighter than usual today, to which Taeil chalked up to being related to tomorrow being a public holiday, & most probably took the day off to make it a long weekend. He parked in his usual spot, & entered the front discreetly. It was pretty early, so there were only a handful of people inside. Johnny, the bartender, looked up as Taeil approached.

"Hey man, you're early today," he noted.

"Yeah, traffic was good. Can I get some water?"

Johnny slid him a glass of water.

"Is that musician gonna play tonight?"

Taeil almost choked on his water as he accidentally eavesdropped on the conversation of the fellas at the table behind him.

"I should think so."

"Tsk. What's so great about him? He just sings songs & strums his guitar. Anyone can do it!"

"Uh, I mean, not everyone has the—"

"Pass me a guitar & I could sing as good as him."

"Can you even play guitar."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it does, you nitwit."

Taeil was mildly amused by the exchange, but also by the fact they thought they might like to take his place. In no way did he believe he was superior over them, but being a musician wasn't as easy as prancing on the stage with a guitar.

He wowed the crowd as always that night, and at 9.25 he looked at his binder stuffed with sheet music. What shall his final song be?

You watched intently form your seat, Taeyong cheering next to you; Taeil was absolutely glowing tonight, & everyone was all ears. He sang Elvis, & even played Piano Man by Billy Joel. You noticed the crowd seemed to be a little thin today, yet it didn't faze Taeil. He adjusted his mask, & picked up his guitar. A familiar set of chords filled your ears, & you inhale deeply.

"There's talk on the street it sounds so familiar. Great expectations, everybody's watching you."

You bit your lip slightly. What could Taeil possibly mean by playing this song? Was it just a song for tonight or did he have some intention to sing it?

"Johnny come lately The new kid in town Everybody loves you So don't let them down"

The rest of the crowd did not seem to be worried by the song. After all, why should they? The guitar man was simply here to serenade them with his angelic vocals to help them forget about life for a while. You take a swig of your Ribena. You were probably just overthinking things. After all, this song was about fleeting romance. You glanced at Taeyong briefly, & he catches your eye. He smiles, & you feel your heart skip a beat.

"There's talk on the street, it's there to remind you Doesn't really matter which side you're on You're walking away, and they're talking behind you They will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along"

As the pub emptied for closing, Taeil sat at the bar with a glass of water. Johnny was mopping up the beer some patron had spilled all over the floor, grumbling about how uncouth some people can get. Kun was singing softly in the kitchen as he washed up the dirty dishes in the sink, while his kitchen assistants cleaned the stoves & countertops. Taeil thumbed the rim of his glass, suddenly tired. Boy was he glad tomorrow was a holiday cuz he intended to sleep in late.

"You did well today, Taeil," the bar owner said as he rearranged the tables & chairs.

"Thank you, sir."

"Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, sir, just tired," Taeil admitted.

"Not surprised, you did go all out tonight," the owner nodded. "If you're too tired to make the drive home I think Johnny can let you stay in his place, can you Johnny?"

Johnny gave a thumbs up.

"Nah, I think I'll be fine."

The lightbulb above Taeil flickered. The bar owner frowned at it, muttering he should get a replacement bulb for that. Taeil stayed until the owner had to escort his employees out. Sitting in the driver seat of his car, Taeil watched as the lights went out before starting his car.

It was time to leave.

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

"Is the Guitar Man coming back?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"I hope he does. He was fantastic."

Johnny looked up. The crowds were less now that Taeil hasn't returned to play for the past 5 days. The boss had called Taeil out of concern 3 days ago, lord knows what could've happened that night that he insisted on driving back despite his tiredness, & Taeil answered that he’s gone elsewhere to play. The boss was disappointed, but understood that sensations tend to fade out after their 15 minutes of fame.

Johnny returned to his chores; he too had been disappointed to hear Taeil left to go elsewhere to sing. Maybe one day the guitar man would return.

#nct taeil #nct taeil imagines #nct taeil scenarios #nct taeil fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 taeil #au:guitar man

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

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masterpiece

Title: masterpiece

Square Filled: Soulmates AU

Ship: Robbe IJzermans/Sander Driesen

Trigger Warnings: None applied

Created for @skamevents

So, Soulmate AUs are my absolute favorite trope of any AU ever and I love reading all of them. I love the names on the arms, having the same symbol, I love seeing color only if your soulmate is nearby, but one of my favorites is being connected by their skin. And, with Sander as an artist in canon, I absolutely HAD to use this one. Soulmate AUs absolutely FASCINATE me and so I had to do this one.

Now, because this fic ended up being WAY MORE than what I wanted it to be, it physically will not fit in this text box, so I will be putting the first scene of the fic into this with a read more link at the bottom (note: this is the same scene as my masterpiece snippet that I posted a few days ago). So, I hope you enjoy the rest of this chapter.

...

Read on AO3

...

Thursday was not Robbe’s day.

Thursday was, by far, Robbe’s longest and physically draining day. While his first class of the day didn’t start until a little before 12:00, his day wouldn’t end until about 23:00 which was when the library closed down. To add to his torture of a long day, thanks to extending his own shift so Amber could be picked up by her mother on her way home from work, his classes on Thursdays were particularly draining, filled with dry teachers that talked to the board and ignored any and all questions.

Letting out a sigh, Robbe turned to his introductory essay which was pulled up in another tab of the computer in front of him. The head of the department didn’t care about them working on homework, as long as their other jobs were done first, and Robbe had already put up the remaining books in the library, straightened up the desks where the student workers sat, and filed away a stack or two of files for one of his superiors.

Now, that all of his librarian work was done, at least until someone returned a book to the circulation counter and he would go off in search of its rightful spot, Robbe could focus on this essay, or a story, that his writing teacher had assigned as an “introduction” to their mindset as writers. And, the topic that had been chosen by his other 25 classmates was soulmates.

He let out a breath of air, burying his face in his hands.

Robbe hated soulmates.

Or, rather, he hated the idea of soulmates.

As a kid, Robbe would sit and watch his mother doodle on her skin with her favorite pen, watch the curve of her letters, her small doodles of flowers, appear on the exact same spot on his father’s hand. His parents would smile at each other, love in their eyes, and tease each other when the other got a stain on their hand because it affected both of them.

To little six-year-old Robbe, soulmates were everything that he had to offer and he thought that he didn’t have one because doodles never appeared on his skin. His mother had giggled at him, informing him that his soulmate’s doodles wouldn’t appear until after he reached puberty. Little Robbe had been confused as to why he had to wait, he now knew that the changing hormones and chemicals in the body at puberty that caused the connection to show fully, but no one, not even people researching and studying soulmates, could pinpoint how soulmates are chosen or when.

To present-day, eighteen-year-old Robbe, soulmates were crap.

His parents had been soulmates, had fallen in love, and got married, having Robbe shortly after. For the first eight years of Robbe’s life, his parents had been happily in love with one another. His father loved being home, loved cuddling his wife on the couch, to the point that Robbe would call them disgusting and throw a pillow at them and they would laugh. Then, his parents started fighting about little things, small minuscule details that shouldn’t matter. As the years went on, the fights got worse, louder and louder until Robbe couldn’t sleep at night anymore, sneaking out of his house and going to his best friend’s house to crash. Then, his father left them alone, found another woman who made him happier, and his mother spiraled, leaving Robbe caught in between, trying to help her.

His parents were soulmates and they had fallen out of love.

If the one person that you were destined to be with was supposed to leave you anyways, what was the point of having the ability to connect with them on a physical level?

Letting out a sigh, Robbe reached out, typing angrily. Soulmates are fucking stupid.

“Woah there,” Zoë teased, walking up with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Zoë was a barista and one of Robbe’s roommates. At the beginning of the year, Robbe had moved into the three-bedroom flatshare with her and a senior, Milan, because Robbe was not going to live with his dad, not after what he did to his mom, not with him and his new girlfriend. It was a minor miracle that the two of them had been so willing and that his father had been so understanding. His father wanted him to live in the dorms, but it was too expensive for Robbe. He was barely surviving month-to-month as it was and living in the dorms would be almost double the cost.

“What’s wrong?” Zoë questioned.

“What isn’t wrong?” Robbe questioned. “Of all the topics my writing class had to pick for our introductory assignment, they picked soulmates.” Zoë scrunched up her nose, understanding. “And, I can’t think of anything to write other than soulmates are fucking stupid.” As if she didn’t believe him, he turned the screen towards her and she stood on her toes to look, letting out a light breath through her nose. He let out a sigh, straightening the computer back. “Think that will get me full points?”

“I doubt it.” Zoë laughed. “Here, it’s from Chloë.”

“Again?” Robbe questioned. Chloë was a barista at the café, who had a crush on Robbe so obvious that even he could see it, which was saying something. When it came to realizing people having feelings for him, he didn’t have the best track record. Despite the fact that Robbe had several relationships, almost all of them had been as a result of the other person making the first move. “How many times have you told her that she’s not my type?”

“Robbe,” Zoë laughed, reaching out to pat his head with a tone that says many times. “I think the only way she’s going to be convinced that you aren’t interested in her is if she finds you making out with a guy. Not that I can blame her. You are a cute boy. Whether you want to admit it or not.” Robbe rolled his eyes before spotting the purple writing on the back of her hand. Zoë caught his gaze and scoffed. “My soulmate’s latest ‘conquest’,” she remarked, pivoting the hand towards Robbe so he could see.

Had a good time tonight was followed by a phone number, only the final digit was smudged.

Robbe knew that he had a soulmate, of course, but his soulmate wasn’t the type of person who slept around a lot, or if they did, they didn’t have girls writing numbers on the back of their hand in hopes of a second round.

On his sixteenth birthday, his best friend, Jens, had jokingly drawn a poor excuse of a birthday cake and sixteen candles on the back of his right hand (and Robbe will never admit to anyone how disappointed he was that it didn’t show up on Jens’ hand). Within an hour, as he sat in his biology class, his soulmate, whoever they were, had drawn an arrow to it and wrote awful, zero stars on booking.com before proceeding to draw a perfectly drawn cake, in pen, with the exact number on the candles, on the back of his left hand. The drawing looked perfect, meticulous, and every year, on that same day, another cake would appear on his hand with an additional candle.

Robbe had a soulmate.

Even if he didn’t want one.

Zoë let out a heavy sigh, pulling him back into the world of the present. “Every morning I wake up with a new number on my hand is another morning I question if you have the right idea,” she admitted, staring at her hand. “Soulmates are crap. I’m always half-tempted to call the number, tell her that he’s just going to find someone else, but what’s the point, right? Plus, it’s missing a digit.”

“Save a woman from getting her hopes up, probably. But, don’t worry,” Robbe remarked. “I’m sure he’ll get his head out of his ass soon.”

“Excuse me,” a voice remarked, over Zoë’s shoulder.

The two of them pivoted to find that a blond-haired man was standing behind them. The man was stunning, absolutely breathtaking as though he had been carved from stone. There was a black-beanie resting lightly on his head, covering the strands of white-blonde hair that poked out from the edge, and he had a pair of bright green eyes that were slightly hidden by the black-framed glasses on his nose. He was dressed in a pair of denim jeans, black converse, and a t-shirt with an artist that he didn’t recognize beneath his black hoodie.

Robbe felt his breath catch in his throat.

Looking like that in a hoodie, glasses, and a beanie was ridiculously unfair.

Especially to Robbe.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” he continued, pushing up his green bag further up his shoulder. “But, I need to check out this book for my art history class.”

“Of course,” Robbe replied, his voice cracking a little. There was a knowing look on Zoë’s face, a familiar eyebrow raised that she generally reserved only for Milan, as she shuffled to the side, taking the coffee with her. The man stepped forward, placing the book on the edge of the counter, and Robbe took the book from him, eager to make sure their hands didn’t touch. “Sorry about that. Do you have your id?”

“Yeah, it’s in here somewhere,” the man replied, digging his wallet out of his bag. He found it, handing it over to Robbe, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, almost like it was on purpose. Robbe felt a jolt shoot up his hand as he took the id in his hands, switching to the electronic check-out system, typing in his student id number and scanning the book. A name popped up. Sander Driesen.

Once Robbe had deactivated the electric security in the spine, he placed his id on top of the cover and slid it across the counter, “Here you go.” Robbe kept his hand on the other side of the book, making sure to pull his own hand away before Sander reached out to grab it. He took the book from the counter, grabbing his id and slipping it into his pocket. “It’ll be due on the 17th of next month.”

Sander sent him a grin, a slightly confident, slightly wicked grin, like he somehow managed to know the effect that he was having on Robbe and his already jumbled mind, almost as much as Zoë did. “Thank you, Robbe,” he remarked. At Robbe’s confused, puzzled look, Sander’s eyes dropped down to his chest and Robbe looked finding his nametag, wanting to slap his forehead. He glanced towards Zoë, who was still hanging off to the side with her chin against her palm, and Robbe thought he saw his eyes flicker down to her hand, recognition in his eyes, but then, Sander was smiling at her and saying to her, all confident and charming, “Sorry about interrupting your conversation.”

“It’s completely okay,” Zoë replied. “I was about to leave anyway.”

Sander moved off, grinning at her, and Zoë handed Robbe his coffee, a knowing glint in her eye as she boosted herself up over the counter to press a kiss against his cheek. He shoved her away, wiping away the residue of her signature red lipstick, and Zoë ran out the door, giggling all the way and promising to save him some leftovers from dinner. Robbe let out a sigh, trying to return to his essay on stupid soulmates, but found his eyes looking for Sander, who had disappeared.

Read The Rest on AO3

#brenna's soulmate au #brenna writes #my fic #my writing #sobbe #rosander #wtfock #wtfam #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #skamevents #skamevents bingo #i decided to participate after all and soulmate au just happened to be on the bingo card #so like that was a win for me #sobbe fic #rosander fic #wtfock fic

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shinygoku · 3 years

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Top 10 CSatM Episodes (1/2)

Ahhh, Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons...! Probably only Second to Thunderbirds when it comes to the most popular and beloved Supermarination programme, with only Stingray able to compete for that coveted Silver Medal. But for me, it’s my Favourite!

I could go on and on about it, but for now I’ll go over my personal picks for a Top 10, which may give some insight into what about the way the series ticks makes it so enthralling.

Without further ado, let’s jump in! I’m not ordering them by preference, but rather the Episode order as I watched them on my DVDs (tediously the ep listings never seem to be consistent :T) Spoilers for all eps covered! ✂

Winged Assassin

Starting off my Favourites is the 2nd episode of the whole show, featuring a good condensed version of the events of Ep 1 if ya missed it and probably the best explanation on the workings of Retrometabolism that canon media is ever gonna grant us. The plot is fairly straightforward, but what elevates this is the aforementioned Exposition, which feels more organic than it did last episode, the interactions between Scarlet and Blue, and even the shocking twist at the ending, where the mission that had been going so well falls at the very last hurdle, in spite of Spectrum’s best efforts.

One of the most chilling visuals in the series is a surfaced shard of a downed passenger plane floating up from the sea, before the camera pans out to show the duplicated plane flying through the air, and another dark shot later on, of Scarlet’s limp hand with blood running down after he died in the effort to prevent the massive explosion that occurs regardless.

Winged Assassin sets a lot of standards of things to follow; traits like massive collateral damage just as part of the Mysteron’s grander scheme, the close partnership of Scarlet and Blue, Scarlet’s seldom used Sixth Sense and even the occasional downer ending, where the Mysterons manage to sneak a victory in and actually kill or destroy their stated target.

White as Snow

This episode shines a very interesting light on the dynamics between Col. White and Scarlet. It’s obviously one of a superior giving orders most of the time, but in a twist from the somewhat strict nature of Jeff Tracy over his sons who show respect to their father by not arguing back, with these two there’s actually the occassional spark of friction, that Scarlet will voice when he doesn’t like the commands and will only reluctantly go through the motions in the situation. I’m referring mostly to the first Mysteron attack, where a satellite is on a collision course with Cloudbase, but Scarlet unsubtly opposes the plan as there’s the possibility of innocent people on board who would get killed if Spectrum shot it down first. However, he’s overruled... and it turns out that it was indeed a trap, the people on board had been exploded hours ago and what was shot down was a Replicant copy. And that’s just the first half of the episode! But I find it interesting that again, back in Thunderbirds, the call to not remotely destroy something like that on the offchance it was populated would be the Correct course of action, but in this show pragmatism is needed, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Anyway, the episode has another Mysteron attack aboard a submarine, with plenty of tension... but yet, there’s something of a comedic bend to the episode, such as a furious White shouting at the currently dead Scarlet, much to the Naval crew’s confusion, and the scene at the end which I’ve taken the picture from. The weakest part of the episode is probably Blue in charge of Cloudbase, as he doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing and I feel they coulda done more with him. Oh well! At least we got the fantastic music insert, which is also titled White as Snow.

Operation Time

Probably ranking in my Top 3, Operation Time is pretty remarkably both one of the most tension filled... yet an extremely funny episode. I guess some of that’s just due to my own odd sense of humour, though some moments are clearly intentional. Both the operation scenes, the Mysteron’s pursuit of the Doctor, and finally Spectrum chasing the Mysteron!Doctor are all played very suspensefully, and I find myself holding my breath. But then the funny scenes, like everything with Magenta and how hilariously pissy and unsubtle the Fake!Doctor gets leave me in stitches! [pun unintended lol]

I dunno, maybe some of the amusement effect is enhanced by the strong contrast between the scenes. Also we get a very grisly death for the Fake!Doctor and this episode establishes weaknesses for the Mysterons that will come up in future instalments. There’s a lot this ep has to offer, even something of an insight into 60′s medicine (though the series is set in 2068). While an extremely minor point, both the scenes with operations have the pssssshh.....fsssssshhhh sound that I associate with ventilators even though they ain’t being used, what’s up with that? But it’s another thing to add to the Atmosphere so s’all good, man.

Odd that I can’t think of much else to put here, I love it so much but maybe it’s so solid in the couple of things it does that’s all there really is to say? I’m feeling frustrated at how I don’t seem to have written enough for it, but trust me when I say it’s excellent and that it’s absolutely a Must Watch if you’re giving the series a look. (Though again, I’m spoiling each ep covered so uhh... read at your own risk if you’re using this to judge it!)

The Heart of New York

An interesting tale that I’ve actually Heard more than I’ve watched, as the audio adaptation is a free sample on the official Gerry Anderson site! [At least at the time of writing lmao, it’s worth a look anyway. This message was not paid for.]

This story is somewhat unique in that the Mysterons’ plan is pretty tame by their standards. They want to blow up... a Bank. Sure, it contributes to the long game they play, causing disruption and destruction, but compared to the casual massive collateral damage they inflict as part of a more focused murder attempt (again, see Winged Assassin and the passenger plane) this is small potatoes. But still, they end up feeling more moral in this episode than the actual ne’er do wells, a trio of would-be Robbers. These guys are pretty assholish, deliberately using the horrible cosmic war that’s already taken lives in the triple digits to hide behind while they take their pickings from a vault. Captain Black locking these morons in with the explosives feels like poetic justice, that they really did get what they wanted and are punished in kind.

Maybe this feeds the Mysteron’s point, that humans are aggressive, corrupt and selfish... though Colonel White challenges this view at the end of the episode, stating the robbers aren’t indicative of humanity as a whole. The whole shebang is a lot like The Twilight Zone, honestly. All we need is Rod Serling to open and close the episode...

Point 783

This episode is a bit harder to go into depth on, to be honest, it’s not one with a particular gimmic that makes it more memorable, but it’s a very solid ep all the same. There’s still a fair few layers that keep me thinking, like how it seems one of the Methane Trunk drivers had seemingly been Mysterionised offscreen to enable the Mysteron’s main pawns to me made. Then the first attempt to kill the Supreme Commander is thwarted by Scarlet’s (somewhat inconsistant) Mysteron Sense and perspex tubes that take their sweet time to descend and don’t even prioritise the actual target lol

Anyway, the meat of the episode is focused on the guest vehicle, the Unitron implacable unmanned Tank that can be controlled remotely by human operator or programmed to destroy something particular, and it will not stop or slow down no matter what’s thrown at it. Something something Proto-Drone Warfare commentary. The Mysterons’ last big attempt to assassinate today’s dude has one of their Mysterionised guys from earlier become the target, unknown to everyone else until he draws his gun inside the SPV (who even points out the 6th sense didn’t activate!). Scarlet gets shot 3 times but manages to eject himself and the Supreme Commander, which leads to the above scene, which offers a nice, human response.

Mr Supreme Commander later chews Blue out as it emerges instead of Scarlet going to a Hospital within 10 minutes, Spectrum insisted on waiting for one of their Helicopters to pick him up, which took 3 hours. Poor Blue has to try reassuring the army guys that Scarlet will be fine, truuuuust hiiiim. It makes me wonder if Spectrum is making things easier or harder overall by keeping his Retrometabolism under their hats, though I can understand they’d have reservations, but just trying to gloss over it with a ‘no no, it’s fine, he’ll get better.’ type answer doesn’t seem all that convincing. But I enjoy that it’s semi challenged here. And this episode summary ended up longer than expected cause all the Thinking I’ve done, haha!

=======

This has gotten a lot longer than expected and will be Two Parts! Find the second half here~

#Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons #Captain Scarlet #Supermarionation #Gerry Anderson #CutCat Top Lists

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nctzendreamz · 4 years

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HOMECOMING • PROLOGUE

Prologue / Part l / Part ll / Part lll

Summary: The year is 3030, and the divide between the rich and poor couldn’t be greater. Wildwood University is the most prestigious school in the entire world, but it isn’t only because of the impeccable flying cars that can be seen best during the fuchsia lit nights, or the dexterous education everyone receives. It has secrets. A lot of secrets.

Genre: Gang!AU, Futuristic!AU

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of violence, foul language, drug use, and murder.

Author’s Note: I love you all. I hope you will love this rollercoaster of emotions as much as I do.

Once upon a time, there was a boy. This boy was gentle, and loved to explore. Sometimes, he’d even allow his imagination to posses his body, pretending he was something he knew he’d never be, such as a racecar driver, a superhero, or his favorite—loved.

Now, as that boy travels down the dark corridor that lead to his instructor, he can’t help but to smile. His left hand caresses the mangled brick wall, reminding him of every waste of space that had been dismembered in his sanctuary. Even the two men who were unnecessarily escorting him down the dimly lit space seemed frightened at the way he lightly chuckles to himself, but they know if they look at him wrong, he’ll simply kill them too.

As they approach what was known as the “black door”, he knocks a familiar tune, informing the man on the other side it was one of his own.

With an almost cinematic effect, all of the locks audibly unravel, and a flashing light blinks onto his face, silently giving him permission to step in. He looks around, trying to see if any new souvenirs had been added to the otherwise plain walls, but he sees nothing fresh. The picture of all of the boys of NEO rests in the center of the large room, and as always, he spots himself first.

“Lee Taeyong.” A deep voice addresses, obviously coming from the leather chair which was turned the opposing way.

“Mr. Sooman.” He bows, although the man couldn't see him. They didn’t have the technology for such a myth, but there was always a fear he had eyes in the back of his head.

The chair slowly begins to turn, revealing the only person in this world that brought fear into Taeyong. His current sadistic smile was a testament to that, as well as the sweat that began to form under the arms of the boy.

“Why so stiff? It’s just me, your father?” He teases.

“My apologies.” Was all Taeyong could muster, now wanting nothing more than to get straight to the point. He wanted his mission.

“Did you take your pill today?”

“Of course I did.” He lied.

“Then why are you so jittery? He eyes the slim boy suspiciously, standing up now.

Taeyong decides on silence, as he doesn’t want to speak his truth to his father figure. His eyes once again fall on the photo hanging, and he tries to relax himself by focusing on his hair color. He can now vaguely see it’s raging orange print, probably the most color he’d ever see in his lifetime.

His meditation is interrupted with the sound of two precise claps, and a tiny robot now at his feet projecting light onto the blank wall. What seemed like millions of photos appear one by one, and so much color. Even though it was faded, he was still incredibly fascinated.

His eyebrows are raised ever so slightly, and his mouth waters, yet, he can still sense his elder approaching him. It ran through his blood to do so. He always had to be on guard. If anyone was able to run up on you, and hurt you even slightly, you’d most likely be murdered by the others because—how can you be so dumb? How can you sleep at night without the feeling of someone watching you? Your hairs stand up, a chill stretches against you. It’s very simple, actually.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Wildwood?”

Taeyong snaps his focus back on the man who’s eyes were watching him intently. “Yes. Founded in 2002 by Lobos Smith. Known as the most prestigious, and honorable university in the world. They specialize in futuristic science, and were the first school to perfect the seemingly impossible flying car. In short, rich motherfuckers.” He spat, feeling his blood pressure heighten at the mention of wealthy.

“Very good, boy.” Mr. Sooman continues to circle his apprentice, as the wood floor creaks with his every step. “As you know, we’ve always had buisness with the Smith’s.”

Taeyong nods confidently, showing with his body language that he was genuinely aware of this fact.

“Well, I want you to kill them.”

The screen zooms into four faces, none of them familiar to him. A man, a woman, a girl, and a boy.

“This is the Smith family. Maleen Smith, President of Wildwood. His wife, Bianca, his son Johnny, and your most important target, Y/N.”

“Why is she the most important?” Taeyong questions, finally getting comfortable in his element. You could say what you wanted about him, but you couldn’t deny his manipulative talents, and serious approach for his job. He was always thirsty for blood.

“Because she is their pride and joy.” Mr. Sooman responds with a devilish grin, clearly knowing more than he was revealing. “Sweet girl, smart girl, naive girl.”

“So what? You want me and the guys to meet them for dinner or something? Blast their heads off?”

The team of NEO was a dangerous one, and everyone who lived in this hell knew it. Their kills were always vicious, but the handmade masks they wore during their greatest hits hid their identity. All of them were specifically designed to the personalities of the boys, and their set skills. Taeyong, for example, always spotted a bedazzled fox, labeled red although he had yet to test that to be true. It was a metaphor to his sly nature, always able to easily grab the attention of clueless street-walkers. They were so awful at selling, and making deals for drugs that made people go off the charts. So easy to take advantage of.

They were essentially target practice. Something to play with. A pure rush; giving them their fix of killing and feeling superior because in any of situation, they were powerless. They were poor, and every fucking day did they have to watch projections of news from the other side. So many new inventions. More ways to protect the earth from falling back to its horrid ways. The way NEO looked. Dirty—dull.

Taeyong’s hand naturally reaches for his weapon that was always stashed in his pants, and quite a few scenarios run through his brain; different approaches that could be taken. “Call the meeting and consider it done, sir.”

“While I do appreciate your hungry nature, boy; I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re the only person in this room right now, haven’t you?” The undertone of his voice reads nothing but menace, and Taeyong is truly trying his hardest to prevent his eyes from squeezing shut, or letting a mere drip of sweat dazzle from his forehead onto the ground. It would reveal he did indeed lie about taking his pill, and that would mean he’d have to double up.

“I have noticed, but I figured that I was in here because I’m the most superior.”

In reality, he wasn’t such a cocky bastard. At least, when he wasn’t high off of Indigo. That was the drug Sooman kept pestering him about, and it was what seperared NEO from the rest of the poor souls who lived in this baseless city. That’s what they were told.

Indigo made them strong, and it made them unstoppable. The more they took, the greater their kills felt, and the more their talents shined. Some were more addicted than others, and didn’t care about the black and white scenery that covered their headspace. Others, like Taeyong, planned to sneak up to the rooftop of the building tonight and see the sky, even if it would be half colored, half gray. At least that was the plan, before now.

They were always told that if they didn’t take their pill, the side effects would be deadly. Taeyong now knows this to be true, as his anxiety couldn’t be more intense in an environment where he was usually light and easy, and his mind is spinning. Random spurts of color can be seen everytime he moves his eyes in another direction, and even the colors on the projector are incredibly detailed.

“So you did take your pill today.” The man laughs, patting him on the back. “You’re right, you know.” His voice is light now, almost like a switch removing his dark demeanor. The sound of the floor creaking was practically making Taeyong lose his mind, but he can’t show it. “You are the best. And that is why this mission isn’t going to just be a ‘get the job done’ kind of mission.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” He reaches for his back pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. It was folded into three, and Taeyong can feel his eyebrows basically touching, and his petite nose scrunching as he opened up his mail.

“Congratulations on being excepted into Wildwood University! Founded in 2002, it’s always been Wildwood’s mission to accept the best, so the future can be bright! Lee Taeyong, we cannot wait for you to transfer to our school of futuristic science, and see all you have to offer the brightest side of the world!”

That was all he had to see before he looks up in shock, clearly unable to believe in such an opportunity.

“I’m going—

“Yes. You, a poor boy, going to their world.”

“And I’m going to invade.” He seemingly finished.

“You’re not just going to invade. You’re going to make that girl fall in love with you, and you’re going to make those wealthy pieces of shit trust you, and then—when they finally accept you as their son, and that girl would die for you, you will bring them to me.”

“Like a parasite.”

“No. You, my boy, were born to eliminate the parasites. They don’t deserve to multiply, or reproduce.”

Maybe it was because of the lack of intoxication, but Taeyong feels himself getting too excited about this. The manipulation was excellent, and the plan couldn’t fail. He was charming in all aspects of the word.

“What did they do to you?” Was his final question. He once again is in a stare down with the older man infront of him, who had returned to his seat now.

“They took something from us, and they have to pay. No mistake goes unseen in NEO. You know that.”

“I won’t let you down, sir.” Taeyong bows, just as he did when he originally walked in. The respect was clear, even if the roots of the plan seemed eerie. He trusted his leader with his life, and if he said someone needed to die, it was the truth. He was going to bring their heads back on a silver fucking platter.

#nct #nct 127 #nct taeyong #taeyong #nct series #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct scenario #taeyong nct #homecoming #kpop #gang au #nct gang au #kpop gang au #kpop imagine

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windup-dragoon · 4 years

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So not exactly the AU you had mentioned @astralyehga as I had intended. But the end result I’m still happy with. Originally it was going to be Hien helps Kiri get a date with Aymeric, but in doing so and boosting her confidence, Hien realizes he has feelings for her. BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED. It kind of just wrote itself tbh. And at one point I was still going to go with that original idea, but then I thought I would have to write a second half and I thought the likelihood of me actually finishing it was pretty slim so. This is here instead. uwu THANK YOU FOR THE AU IDEA THOUGH I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I even watched a rom com just to get in the writing mood. lmao. I watched the ugly truth bc it used to be one of my favorites.

【Ｍｏｄｅｒｎ　Ｌｏｖｅｒｓ】

Hien x Kirishimi

Word Count: 2,291

“To what do I owe this pleasure tonight, friend? Hard day at work?”

The gym was always vacant at this time of night. When the street lights illuminated the city and traffic was nonexistent. The clock read well past midnight, marching ever forward in tandem with her weights lifting and falling from the bench.

Mismatched eyes peeked out from beneath thick lashes at the owner of the voice who now kept her company. Hien, the owner and her personal trainer, grinned down at her. Her hold of the equipment slipped, the weights clattering back into place just behind her head. Kirishimi grimaced but sat upright from the bench.

“You could say that.” Her hand raked through snow white hair as a sigh heaved itself from her lips.

Hien crossed his arms with a quirked brow. “Didn’t you say you were meeting up with your friends tonight? Or was that next Friday?”

Kirishimi didn’t respond. Instead the woman pitched herself forward, head in her hands.

“Ah. Still sore. Got it.”

This wasn’t the first time Kirishimi had been left to her own devices on a Friday, or even Saturday night. She often worked late, finishing paperwork that everyone else left abandoned until the next business day. Most times her plans would reschedule, only to never be realized. All of her friends, no matter how dear they were, had lives of their own. Each had a significant other to keep them company and enjoy the evening with. So when her own plans fell through? They were there to pick up the pieces and make the night spectacular with or without Kirishimi’s presence.

Tonight had just been another defeated Friday night to Kirishimi.

Hien, her trainer now for more than a few years, had known the story all too well. In her disheartened state, she wound up here at his gym, practicing her kick boxing or lifting weights. It was almost routine these days. But, in some small comfort, there were worse places she could have drifted to besides his gym.

He sat on the bench beside her and draped a white cloth over her head. “How ‘bout a nice hot shower and I’ll get some sake? I’ve got left overs from dinner, if you’re hungry.”

The offered towel was promptly used to scrub her face. “Sure.”

How many times had she ended up in this very room? A small studio apartment over the gym that always smelled of honey and apples. From the kitchen, to the living room, all the way to the back where sliding doors led into Hien’s bedroom, all of it could be seen from the moment one walked in. The host himself stationed himself at his makeshift mini bar beside the glass doors leading to a tiny, unused balcony. The lighting of his apartment was dim, as usual, nothing but strings of fairy lights that she had helped him string up from corner to corner some months ago.

He prepared a small tray for Kirishimi while she showered, sake for them to share and black styrofoam to-go boxes he had ordered earlier that evening. Surely he would have loved to cook dinner himself for the woman, but you burn one pizza and you’re immediately branded a poor chef forever after. With fire alarms howling into the night and a pillar of smoke being waved out the balcony doors, she had sworn off his cooking from then on.

It was one of his favorite memories.

Not long after Hien settled himself onto the only piece of furniture in his living room, a couch no less, Kirishimi elbowed the door open and padded barefoot into the apartment. Furiously she scrubbed her white hair with a clean towel, water still dripping down the front of her borrowed t-shirt and soaking the collar. In her urgency to leave the vast loneliness of her own apartment she had forgotten her freshly washed t-shirt, having little choice but to bum one from Hien instead.

“Sorry ‘bout this. I’ll get it dry cleaned if you want.” Kiri spoke in between ruffling her hair like wet feathers and combing her fingers through the locks.

Hien dismissed her with a smile. “Nonsense! It’s only a t-shirt. I have a million others, if you must know.” He teased. It wasn’t the first time he had lent one to her and he somehow doubted it would be the last. “Come sit and eat. Knowing you, you haven’t had a bite all day.”

“Not true.” Kirishimi protested, plopping down in the seat beside him. The couch sunk a bit beneath their weight, forcing their shoulders together. “I had a doughnut at work.”

He whistled. “Wow. A whole doughnut. Well, I won’t deny the nutritional value of a doughnut. Sprinkles?”

“Yes. Brightly colored. Pink, maybe?”

“Ah. Then certainly you don’t need chicken alfredo-” Hien leaned forward, about to grab her box when she uttered a small squeak in defiance.

“Hold it right there, criminal scum! You really think I’d turn down alfredo?”

Grinning, Hien shrugged. “I knew that’d get you.” He slid the box across the coffee table, handing her a fork and a poured drink as well. “Now,” He leaned back against the couch with arms behind his head. “You wanna talk about today?”

“Not really.” Kiri sunk to the floor between the couch and table. Hien was quick to steal her towel and wedge it between the back of her head and the cushions of his only usable furniture. If she needed to spend the night, at least her bed wouldn’t be soaking wet from her hair thanks to his effort.

“Kiri,” He drew out her name, an almost commanding tone. “You can’t bottle it up forever. The last time you tried you drank my bar dry and nearly puked on a couple passing by.”

Silver brows drew together while miscolored eyes burned. “I won’t miss this time.”

“Kirishimi!” Hien exhaled. “I’m being serious. Humor me?”

The young woman, blowing out a sigh that lifted her hair from her cheeks, knocked back one cup full of sake. “Fine,” Reluctance filled her voice. “If you insist.

“Bein’ that it’s Friday, everyone wanted out of the office early. But instead of working together to get it all done, people just up and left after lunch. I had to stay behind, again, to make sure everything got filed correctly and all. That new secretary was nice enough to at least announce she was leaving...” Kiri paused in her story, staring vacantly at the mess of noodles lumped together in the container before her.

“She mentioned a big party downtown and that I should invite my friends to go out. We’d all have drinks and just chill after a long week. I don’t really like the idea of parties but I did wanna see the gang. Been pullin’ such long nights at work, I haven’t seen any of ‘em for a while. So after lockin’ up the office, I texted everyone. Shuri, Illya, Laurelis. But-”

“They’re busy?” Hien finished when Kirishimi failed to continue.

“Yeah...” Kirishimi shook her head and finally dipped her fork into her food. The noodles slithered round and round the utensil but she had no intention of eating just yet. “It’s fine! I mean, they’ve all got their own stuff goin’ on. They wanna spend time with their guys and live their lives. I’ll catch up with ‘em another day, yea? Just sucks bein’ alone...ya’know?”

“Mhm.” All the time he had known Kirishimi, since the day she waltzed into his gym and signed herself up, he had never known her to be obsessed with the idea of a boyfriend. Yet here she was, trying to deny the fact that it bothered her. From time to time the guys of the gym would flirt with her, ask her on dates and say pretty things to her, but they were never right for Kirishimi. Some would later admit to being intimidated by such an athletic woman while others just assumed she had money to spare.

While she fought with her dinner, Hien spared a glance at his phone. A chat message he had started earlier that week filled the screen.

Illya:: Have you asked her yet?

Laurelis:: Hello!!! It’s getting late! Tell us something!!

Shuri:: You had better not have chickened out!

He couldn’t deny the guilt welling in his gut. Instead of asking Kirishimi to meet him at the gym, he had begged her friends to help him in his endeavors to reach her. They were kind enough to oblige but seeing the slump in Kiri’s shoulders made him regret that decision. The girls weren’t to blame. Though he doubted Kirishimi could ever be truly mad at them. They were like family to her; sisters to the bitter end.

“Have you considered finding yourself a boyfriend?” Hien forced the words out of his mouth before he could second guess himself. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees now, taking a sip of his own sake.

Kiri’s fork stopped spinning for a heartbeat. Eventually she snorted and arched a brow at him. “Yeah. It’s real easy, isn’t it? Lemme just go ask some rando’s if they wanna date me.” She huffed before taking a bite.

“Please, do not ask random guys to date you.” He pleaded with a light smile.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid that’s my only option. Or die alone, I guess. My cursed bloodline ends with me.” Kiri teased, dramatically quoting a line from a movie the two had but recently watched.

“C’mon! You’re just being pessimistic. Surely there’s other guys in your life?” Hien leaned a little closer, desperate to catch a glimpse of her features while she nibbled at her food.

“The guys at work are scared of me. Especially when I wear heels.”

“You do that on purpose.”

“I like feeling superior! They treat me like dirt anyway. Bunch o’ assholes.”

“Anyone else?”

“Nope.”

“...What about me?”

“What about-” Kiri turned toward Hien, a questioning look dancing in her eyes. But her words fell short when she noticed him. His green eyes watching her, holding her gaze.

The sound of soft rain pelting the window soon filled the silence of the apartment. It was a romantic ambiance. A window in the kitchen, left open, let in the sweet scent of an approaching storm and the musky aroma of falling rain.

Her heart jumped into her throat as they shared in the quiet moment. All the discussions she ever had with the girls about this very topic came rushing to mind as she searched for words to say in response. Many times she had lamented to the others about her feelings for Hien, always under the impression that he had eyes only for the cute girls who frequented his gym. The girls in tight outfits who giggled and winked at Hien when he taught them how to use specific equipment. She had always wanted to be like them, so flirtatious when asking for his number so they could keep in touch. Several times before she had assumed he had even dated one or two of them, fleeting as they were.

Illya, Shuri, Laurelis, and even their significant others had demanded that she at least talk to Hien about it. To open her heart to see what transpired. But fear had kept her back. If he turned her down or realized her feelings, would he ask her to leave the gym? Who then would she turn to when she was alone at night, wanting anyone's voice but her own to fill the silence. Who would she spend her off days with watching movies or keep him from burning his own building down? It was the fear of being alone that chained her.

But now...

“Hien... You are... definitely a guy in my life.” Kirishimi managed to mutter, her cheeks burning with heat.

“Took you that long to notice?” Hien teased.

“Shuddup!” She huffed before crawling up onto the couch beside him once more. “You know what I meant. I didn’t think you thought of me like that...”

Hien turned so his back was toward the armrest, his body fully facing her. “It’d be an awful lie to say I didn’t think about you every day. Some nights I wait downstairs... Just to see if you stop by.”

“You could have texted me! You could have... said something...”

“I was afraid I’d lose you. I wanted to make sure you felt the same. Your friends gave me one hell of an earful when I spoke to them.” Hien frowned at the memory. Three women demanding he be honest. Although quiet and polite, the trio had honestly frightened him. But if it hadn’t been for them, he may have never found out. His question left unanswered.

“Hien...” Kiri, chewing a moment on her bottom lip, closed her eyes and reached for his hand with both of hers. “Hien, ya’ idiot! Of course I like you! I get stupid butterflies in my stomach when I see you. Gods know I look like a blushin’ idiot when you parade around the gym without yer shirt on. Or the fact that you’ve been my personal trainer for over a year when I don’t even need one-”

“At least I don’t charge you for that.” Hien interrupted, a blossoming grin plastering his face. “Kirishimi, I’m sorry I’m not a rando off the street like you envisioned, but will you go out with me?”

Snowy hair bounced wickedly as Kirishimi replied with an eager nod of her head. “Hells yes!” In unison they moved toward one another, Hien’s arms looping around her waist and drawing her onto his lap while her hands brought his face to hers, lips crashing in a heartbeat against the other.

#|| Untold Stories #hien x wol #hien x kirishimi #Modern au #my babiesssss #BE HAPPY YOU LITTLE TOADS #ILY #i could cry #the alternate idea would have been cool too #like he's trying to get her to say she should date him #but then she gets a text from aymeric asking if she wanted to go out #when she leaves hien the girls text him asking how it went #and he's kind of heartbroken like #...it could have gone better #BUT I DIDN'T WRITE THAT SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #maybe someday #thank you again for giving me such an au!!#astralyehga

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tomboyjessie13-artblog · 4 years

Photo

Dimitri Achilles, regarded as The Second Dealer, is a greedy Peddler from Traverse Town. He lost his heart in the wake of the Heartless attack and was reborn as a Nobody. He would later become involved in numerous incidents and conflicts regarding Organization XIII's Project; "[Project: Pere Noel]", though he nearly lost his lively hood as a candidate due to his illegal dealings and philandering. After graduation, however, he later entered the Organization as their 19th Member, Xidirmit, the Avaricious Peddler.

~Information Bio~ Name(English Translation): Dimitri Achilles Hiragana: ディミトリ=アキレス Romaji: Dimitori=Akiresu Other Names: Playboy/Pureibōi(By Xigbar and Neashi), Pig-dog/Tonken(by Brigitte), The Second Dealer(Pere Noel's code name), Number XIX Xidirmit(Nobody name and rank), The Avaricious Peddler(Organization title).

Age: 20(358/2 Days), 21(KH2 and onward) Gender: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Race: Caucasian Hair Color: White Eye Color: Green Weapon: Meteor Hammer Element: Crystal Lesser Nobodies: Monk

Occupation: Human(Formerly), Nobody/Vessel(Currently) Affiliations: Traverse Town(Place of birth;Formally), Twilight Town(Formally), The World that Never Was(Currently), *The Pere Noel Project(Graduated), Organization XIII(Currently).

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Inspiration: Milky Eights, Kaspar Blankenheim, Man from the Curiosity Shop, and Gogo Yubari

~Dimitri's Theme~ The Dreamy Stage(Casinopolis)

~Headcanon voices~ Japanese: Ono Daisuke English: Troy Baker

==============================================================

~Personality and Traits~ "Don't be such a Munny pincher, you miser! 200!" "Well, why don't I just offer you even less? And y'know, this is the Moogle Shop's! How 'bout if I tell 'em all about you?" -Dimitri blackmailing Neashi over the price of stolen Moogle Shop merch.

Dimitri was a selfish, conniving, and hedonistic man. Since childhood, however, Dimitri was like most average boys in their youth until his parent's divorce. Having to lose a mother figure at a young age caused him to develop a Don Juan Complex, thus taking on relationships with multiple women to fill the void his mother had failed to fill during his teenhood. After becoming a Nobody, he took on relationships for the sake of feeling the emotions that he lost rather than to fill his complex, this eventually caused him to be consumed by his own eroticism, and many people to accused him of misogyny.

Continuing into adulthood, Dimitri lived largely for his pleasure and tastes. He thus partook in illegal activities in [Project: Pere Noel] to fund his addictions, even monopolizing the black market against the Organization's wishes for himself and arguing with his Superiors about his activities when confronted. He similarly thought nothing of selling his own teammates' possessions and even Sora's Keyblade for money. Likewise, Dimitri will act chummy with his customers, but has no qualms about rudely turning away business that he does not want. He also seems to have a distrust in children as well, as he is worried that they'll break something valuable for his business. When it comes to dealing with his providers or teammates, he will even resort to threats or lower his purchase price to maintain his illusion of control.

Dimitri put up a polite front when the situation necessitated it, being able to make a select few friendships such as his bond with Xigbar and being capable of romancing multiple women even from a young age. Though able to form such relationships, Dimitri was only loyal to himself and looked after his needs before others'. Shameless in his mistreatment of Neashi and Nemu, treating them with disdain and disrespect, Dimitri displayed no concern for others' opinions and had no worries over potential consequences for his actions. However, he is seen to be very fearful of Lord Xemnas, as he is very much aware of how powerful he is in status and abilities, and is afraid of being executed by said Lord if his illegal activities were discovered.

Outside of the Project and the Organization, he enjoys Video Games, Jazz music, smoking, drinking, pranking, relaxing, and socializing.

==============================================================

Skills and Talents

After becoming Second Dealer, Dimitri became very successful in making illegal transactions within the black market and obtained products from different worlds for himself and his clients, albeit gets his employees and Neashi to do his dirty work. Aside from his apparent popularity as a provider of stolen goods, Dimitri was proficient with wielding the meteor hammer despite the dangers of wielding the chain bound weapon. Having used it to defend him self and attack foes from a far away distance, making hard for humans and Heartless to get close to him, it's also suggested that he strangles his foes with said weapon as well. He also has a circular blade built in the weapon.

When is comes to magic, he can manipulate crystals and stones, he also has the ability to force crystals out of the ground before shattering it, leaving the pieces to fly around and damage the enemy, similar to Lexaeus with his Earth element. Naturally, as a Nobody and later a Organization member, Dimitri can command the lesser Nobodies and use Dark Corridors at will. ==============================================================

Character Connections

Xigbar/Fourth Shadow: Dimitri's Mentor from the Pere Noel Project and later his partner. For the most part, they're practically like brothers, to him Xigbar's fun to be around with, especially when it comes to trolling poor Neashi. On certain occasions, however, they do have a few disagreements, one of them includes a few times where Dimitri's doing things he's not supposed to, like selling things needed for the Organization to the black market for personal profit. Neashi: One of his underpaid employees and and later one of his partners for the Pere Noel Project. Their relationship is nothing but sour as he hired her as a way to require rare items to sell at the black market and was very cruel to her doing so, often threatening her with blackmail if she tried getting a raise for making her do his dirty work. They were both surprised when they discovered that both of them are in the Project together, both being monitored by Xigbar as Second Dealer and Fifth Pierrot, and even worse being relocated to her apartment as a way to keep an eye on him. He ended up taking up the second bedroom much to her chagrin because she uses that room as a Art Studio.

Nemu: His partner for the Pere Noel Project and later his youngest neighbor, he was quite surprised to learn that someone their age was part of the Project as its Third Sleep Bringer, also being monitored by Xigbar. Like Neashi, he only sees them as a way to get his business flowing and was cruel doing so. He also expresses annoyance with their mutism and doesn't allow Nemu near his products as he's afraid of children breaking anything valuable for his business.

Brigitte: One of his partners from the Project. Despite his shameless philandering, he does has a particular attraction to Brigitte out of all his women, often trying to wow her only to be met with rejection due to his personalty, and being called a pig-dog in the process. At one point she turned him into a literal pig-dog hybrid to get her point across.

Xaldin: The 3rd Member of Organization XIII and later his partner, Dimitri is practically scared to death by this man, especially with all those lances he carries, thinking that one day that he'll get killed by one or all six of them. He also gets disciplined by the Lancer whenever he does something stupid or illegal, Xaldin takes pleasure in trying to break him as he thrives in others feeling despair, that and he wants him to be respectful to the Organization and their rules. Like with Xemnas, his hands get clammy when around his presence.

Sora: An Islander from the Destiny Islands and a Keyblade Wielder, he first met the boy in his shop in Traverse Town. While he told him to leave his shop due to his young age, he became interested in his Keyblade, thinking that he could sell it for a high price. However, Sora quickly saw through his ruse as the Keyblade retracted to the boy and left.

Character Trivia ~His weapon is the exact same meteor hammer used by Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill Vol.1 ~He was intentionally made to be unlikable, or at the very least a hate-sink character. ~Pere Noel is French for "Father Christmas" or "Santa Clause", the program is based on the fictional criminal organization under the same name from the Evillious Chronicles during the Sloth/Pierrot and Greed/Wrath arcs.

#artwork #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts oc #oc #character profile

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brachyurans · 4 years

Text

tw3 moods, part 3

THE GWENT QUEST NEARS ITS CONCLUSION. zero cards left to be won from players of no renown. three cards left in skellige. then...then it is only the four cards left in novigrad: the fucking passiflora tournament

no i definitely did not spend my first three hours on skellige bopping around signposts to grab all the gwent cards before doing anything else

technically after this i also have to go get the skellige faction deck and other assorted cards from the dlcs but this is not in my Miraculous Book of Gwent so we shall not worry about it yet.

i love skellige and how much people in skellige respect Geralt and how nobody calls me a freak while im walking down the streets here. i also love how half the time voice actors can’t quite decide if they want to pronounce the final E in skellige or not.

finally cleared the skellige part of following the thread and got lambert’s card right before the karadin meeting. idk if they wanted us to believe jad actually changed but his voice actor is the most insincere-sounding motherfucker and anyways the whole Aiden business aside, you can’t make up for engaging in the slave trade by sending a polite letter and donating to local schools, fuck off. i probably wouldn’t have killed him myself (we were in his house, he had no armor and his kids were next door, i don’t like to kill in cold blood) but since lamby was willing to do it for me, well,,

i finally found my girlfriend !!! geralt loves yen so much, i love yen so much, i will literally implode, i’m so happy i got to run a heist with her making sarcastic comments and helping me not die of taxidermy-related hallucinations (sorry mousesack, i regret nothing)

geralt be running and scrambling and hauling himself up ledges while yennefer teleported across ten minutes ago and has been Waiting. shes so extra i love her

i can’t believe yen brought the unicorn all the way to fucking skellige. i mean i can because it’s yen but goddamn, woman, you do not travel light. i have been trying to figure out what yen finds erotic about the unicorn and i have yet to reach any conclusions. would she be interested in fucking on a stuffed horse? is it the unicorns/virginity thing? is it just proving that geralt loves her enough to do anything for her? if it’s the last one, yen, honey, peg him with your massive troll phallus or something, there is no need to haul a life-size unicorn across the fucking ocean

all that said im pausing on skellige for now to clean up the last of the velen/novigrad points of interest, grab the unmarked sidequests, dig up the last of the continental witcher gear diagrams, and finish out my contracts. this should also net me a few extra levels before i start tackling skellige monsters which will be Nice.

POIs are fun because i went all the way down the western coast of velen by midcopse cutting through lvl5 bandits and lvl4 drowners like wet paper and then hit a guarded treasure with a lvl28 hag out of nowhere and booked it the fuck away from there. are these high-level points of interest in with the low-level ones specifically to wreck the shit of overeager newbies?? what the fuck.

i let gaetan go. killing him is probably the more moral choice but i was underleveled for the quest and i don’t love combat in this game so i just didn’t want to fight him. whoops. also iunno, still feels bad to try and kill a guy in cold blood, ’specially when he just got pitchforked in the gut and is clearly at a disadvantage from pain.

while going to consult dijkstra about assassinations i found a male sex worker in the other side of the passiflora who ISN’T hacking his lungs out and geralt can’t even talk to him properly, all he says is “sod off.” i think this is extra homophobic.

i love sigismund dijkstra an unreasonable amount what the FUCK.

i also love dandelion, i would do anything dandelion asked of me, however absurd, including dressing up as a bandit and concealing my identity by putting a scarf over my mouth while doing nothing about like, the cat eyes, or the two swords. dandelion is a himbo.

i’ve done a lot of sidequests and so far i think my favorite has been Scavenger Hunt: Cat School Gear. kiyan is just. mm. his story is so fucked up on multiple levels and i love him. close second might be gaetan’s quest just because i like cat witchers.

best non-witcher sidequest so far was absolutely “shock therapy” wherein geralt is asked to “scare” a druid who ~suddenly became mute~ back into speaking. what does he do? proceed to just. annoy the everliving shit out of the poor druid. like, in no way is putting out the fire every time he lights it to try and warm up a form of shock therapy, that’s just being an asshole! also geralt’s surprised/guilty face when he realizes he got tricked into playing a practical joke on this man. geralt you dumb fuck i love you so much. you should have been suspicious the minute the guy offered you a gwent card rather than coin.

other really good sidequests include aeramas’ trial of the cheeses and “fool’s gold.” i haven't finished “reasons of state” yet but i suspect i’ll also really like that one because, well, dijkstra

i have all the enhanced cat gear and all the enhanced griffin gear and the cat gear is just, far superior aesthetically just by virtue of not being green. sad it gains sleeves when you upgrade it but i am a fan of the cowl and it will make me less chilled when we go to skellige. i wish it was black but we are far too low a level to touch beauclair yet. sad to let my goth imperialist look go but the nilfgaard set finally became underleveled u_u

i finally became sort of rich selling everything to novigrad smiths and then immediately hit a wall with crafting ingredients for potions. no longer can i cobble them together from stuff i picked in the forest and stripped from monster corpses. nooooo i need to buy alcohols and craft secondary ingredients. i am spending an obscene amount of money on cordials to make all the white gull i need.

solved my bomb problem by investing a skill point in becoming immune to bomb secondary effects. now i just need to learn how to aim for shit

#quilltxt #tw3 blogging #i still can't use dragon's dream bombs for the same reason i can't use igni on swamp gas

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thedyingmoon · 5 years

Text

💚 See Me Now 💚

***

VI. Pursuers

***

Hange and Jean were both looking at (F/N) as she wiped her face with a clean towel.

Hange ordered (F/N), ordered, to tell them what really happened inside Levi's office. With tears in her eyes, she recalled how Levi ordered her to go to his office that morning to do some paperwork. She told them how he was not satisfied with her job and the beverages she made for him that finally urged him to do that terrible thing to her.

The girl buried her face on the towel, unable to control her sobbing. Jean suddenly felt rage within his being that surprisingly shook him to his core.

"So, that's why you kept on making those beverages." Jean said. (F/N) just nodded. "But, come on! They're not bad!"

"How did you know about that?" the astute scientist asked Jean.

The boy suddenly went red in the cheeks, looked away, and began scratching the back of his head.

"Well, err, I sampled the chocolate and the c-coffee she made. They're all good." Jean stuttered. He snapped his eyes back at Hange, infuriated at such awful treatment the short Captain has shown the girl. "You don't spill a drink on anyone because of that, right? In fact, you don't spill your drink on anyone, period!"

"Okay, calm down, Kirschtein." Hange thought for a while and touched the girl's shoulders gently. "You said that he made you fill out his documents?"

The girl just nodded. Hange took her hands off the girl and went outside the kitchen.

"Section Commander, wait!" Jean said. "Where are you going?"

"Wait for me, you two." she called and finally turned round a corner. Jean was about to place his arm round (F/N)'s shoulders when they heard Hange say, "And, don't do anything reckless, got that?"

Jean clicked his tongue in annoyance at the lady.

A few minutes later, she was back, carrying with her some documents that Levi left in his office when he went out. Jean immediately saw the papers and went closer to Hange to see (F/N)'s written work.

Jean,... was stunned. He looked back at (F/N), whose face was still buried on the towel. "(F/N), you did this?"

Once again, the girl just nodded.

Hange cleared her throat. "I want to ask a question, (F/N)." she said. The poor girl looked up at her superior with her eyes that were red from crying too much. "Is this the first time you filled out documents of importance such as this?"

(F/N) shrugged. "No, Squad Leader."

"When was the first time? And who taught you?"

"Commander Shadis taught me how to do it. I used to help him with his paperwork."

"Shadis did?" Jean uttered. "You mean THE ex - Scouting Legion Commander and Trainee Squad Head Keith Shadis?"

The girl nodded.

"Oh, I see." Hange said. She sat with (F/N) and showed her the documents. "You know, other Cadets could never produce an excellent work such as this. Well, not without years of training. When did Shadis teach you how to do this?"

"Just a few months before graduation. About two."

Hange absorbed the information like a sponge and pondered for a while.

Everybody is aware of (F/N)'s ability in battle and lack, thereof. But, to think that Keith Shadis would teach her such things that no other Cadet should know about, since their future line of work would simply revolve around guarding the walls or slaying the Titans,...

Not unless he wanted her to join the Military Police Brigade, which was hopelessly impossible given her lack of good grades when she was still a Trainee.

Or, maybe - ?

"Why would Captain Levi reject her work if it's that good?" Jean impatiently asked while looking at the numerous digits that (F/N) filled out in the papers that make no sense to him.

"You know how Shorty is with paperwork. That midget's a freaking perfectionist."

"Hahaha, and to hear that insult coming from you, Section Commander,..." Jean laughed.

"So!" Hange said. She tapped (F/N)'s shoulders, took the soaked towel from her, and handed her her very own coin purse. "You, my little Cadette, should go wash yourself, dress nicely, and buy whatever you want at the market. You should go take the rest of the day off. In fact, I insist."

(F/N) just stared at her in disbelief, the pink coin purse still in her hand.

"What are you standing there for? Go!"

"Yes, ma'am!" (F/N) saluted and went out of the kitchen.

Jean collapsed on a nearby chair and plopped his feet on the table. He continued studying the documents. "No matter how many times I read this, it just doesn't make any sense!"

Hange fetch herself a glass of water and took a seat across Jean. "It will make sense, Kirschtein."

"How so?"

"If you are a higher - ranking officer, that is. Or better yet, a Commander,..."

******

Three hours later, (F/N) was strolling around the Trost District market.

She just bathed and she wore the shirt that Nifa lent her. She still couldn't believe that the Section Commander, her Squad Leader, was letting her spend her own money. She felt really guilty.

So, she brought her own purse, which contained a decent amount of coins, and decided to bring back some souvenirs for her friends.

Of course, what happened inside Levi's office was still fresh from her mind.

As much as she wanted to believe that Levi was just punishing her for wearing Petra's dress, she could clearly feel that his treatment towards her has turned even more awful. It's as if he had some kind of grudge against her.

Her eyebrows furrowed. She finally decided that Levi just couldn't let anyone take Petra's place in his life. No one could, after all. She was the greatest person she knew. No one could be like her friend, Petra.

"Flowers for the beautiful, young lady." a shriveled voice said. She turned to her left and saw a kind elderly lady wearing what looked like patched rags. She was holding a basket filled with white roses and she was offering one to her.

Her heart instantly melted at the sight and she quickly rummaged through her purse to get money.

"No, dear child." the old woman said.

"Sorry?"

"This rose is for you. I give this as a present for the beautiful, young lady."

The old woman was still offering her the rose. She felt guilty for refusing her, so she just took it from her hand.

"T-thank you so much."

She sniffed the rose. It smelled heavenly.

"I'm glad the beautiful, young lady likes it." the old woman said and went back to her place in those filthy rags on the ground near the fruit stand.

She smiled, waved at the old woman, and went on walking.

Just as she was about to look at a nearby stall where cheap jewelry was sold, she heard everyone around her muttering excitedly at the same time. Two country girls who were buying trinkets from the same stall were whispering to each other quite scandalously.

"They said he was never in a relationship." the blonde one said.

"Who knows? He is Humanity's Strongest Soldier! Any girl would be willing to spend just a single night with him!" the brunette said. "I want to spend a night with him!"

"You are quite the naughty one!" the blonde girl pinched her friend's arm playfully.

(F/N) turned towards the crowd, which were huddled in the middle of the square, watching someone riding a horse, whose mane was as dark as the evening sky. It's Shadow, the Stubborn Stallion. Which means,...

"Captain Levi!" shrieked a young lady from the crowd. "Notice me! NOTICE ME!"

"Oi, watch it!" an old man said beside her. He was trying his best to dodge her flailing arms.

Levi wasn't amused. In fact, he hated it when people show their adoration towards him. It's just ridiculous.

He was about to proceed to the gates leading to the next district when he felt someone staring rather intently at him. He turned, his sharp eyes searching for the source of the unexplained force, and found no one there. He clicked his tongue and commanded Shadow to keep going.

(F/N) barely made it in time as she quickly hid behind a stall to not be seen by the Captain. Here, of all places? Why?

She slightly turned to look at Levi when she noticed that he had dismounted his horse beside a stall six blocks away from where she was hidden. It was a good thing he didn't see her staring at him.

She cautiously came out of her hiding place, the single stem of white rose still on her hand. She watched as Levi went to a food stall to get himself something to eat. Then, she felt really bad. He must really be starving and thirsty right now. She saw him order a piece of bread from a grumpy old man who owned the food stall and waited for him as he toasted it.

She still couldn't stop herself from looking at him. She knew he did terrible things to her, but it still didn't stop the butterflies from fluttering inside her stomach, giving her an indescribable rush of emotions. She smiled, observing Levi's muscular back clad in black jacket.

All of a sudden, the same old woman who offered her the rose tugged at his shirt. He turned irritably around and faced her.

"Rose for the handsome, young man." the old woman said. Oh, how sweet of her,...

Levi tch!ed and shoved money in the poor woman's basket.

"That was meant as a gift!" the old woman's voice suddenly changed.

Even before (F/N), or Levi himself, realized it, the old woman grabbed his arm forcefully, took out a syringe that was concealed with flowers inside her basket, removed it's cover with her foul, yellow teeth, and injected his arm with the suspicious black liquid inside it. Levi growled with the sudden pain and pushed the old woman away. The needle was still injected onto his arm. He took it out and winced with pain.

The old woman suddenly laughed, her old shriveled voice sending chills down (F/N)'s spine. What's more, nobody seems to mind what was happening to them.

"Ackerman must die." the old woman said. She pointed a bony finger at him and continued shouting, the pitch of her voice gradually becoming an octave higher. "Ackerman must die! Ackerman must die! Ackerman must die! ACKERMAN MUST DIE!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Levi screamed and suddenly collapsed on the ground. (F/N) quickly made her way towards the Captain. She grabbed a basket from a nearby fruit stall and threw it at the crazy old lady.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" (F/N) shrieked.

The old lady just smiled at her. "The beautiful, young lady is not Ackerman. So why bother? ACKERMAN WILL NOW DIE!"

"SHUT UP!"

All of a sudden, (F/N) realized that a few, hooded men had emerged from the darkest corners of the marketplace, making their way towards them. She looked closely and shuddered; they were all bearing guns.

No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!

"Captain Levi, we must go!" (F/N) said while helping Levi stand. He has become groggy and unresponsive. But, the instant he noticed her, he tried to wriggle free from her grasp. Like a weak child trying to get away from an angry parent.

"L-let me go, you - "

Before Levi could say anything bad to her, he vomited, the thick greenish liquid spilling down his pale mouth.

The Captain would not let her help him. And now, the pursuers were getting closer and closer to the two of them.

"HELP US, PLEASE!" she shouted, but the people just went on with their tasks, like they do not even exist. Now, where did their adoration to the Humanity's Strongest go? (F/N) noticed the girl who was begging to be noticed by Levi earlier. She just went on picking flowers from a nearby stall.

It's no use, the pursuers will definitely kill them.

A hooded man, who seemed to be the leader, took a gun from his pocket and pointed it at Levi.

"No hard feelings, mate." he said with a raspy voice that (F/N) distinctly recognized. "This is just an order, nothing personal." He was definitely going to pull the trigger.

(F/N) cowered and hugged Levi, who was now unconscious on the ground, concealing him from the man, praying for a miracle. She closed her eyes,...

She suddenly heard an explosion. A gunfire.

But, we're still alive!

She opened her eyes and found a great white stallion before them. It was a truly magnificent sight! And the gunshot seemed to come from the tall, muscular man atop the horse. He was clad in flowing, green cape with the crest of the Wings of Freedom at the back.

The man,... was none other than Erwin Smith, himself.

The pursuers panicked at the sight. Ten more men in Scouting Legion uniform surrounded (F/N) and Levi, protecting them from the bad guys. They were all pointing their shotguns at the hooded men. Erwin looked at (F/N).

"(L/N), are you hurt?" the Commander asked her.

Her eyes were wide with admiration to the blonde Commander. "No, sir. But, Levi - Captain Levi is!"

"I see." Erwin brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. A few moments later, Shadow came in barging at the scene. The black horse stopped before them, stomping his hooves impatiently on the ground upon seeing his owner's limp body. Erwin unmounted and carried Levi effortlessly off the ground in firefighter style. He placed the unconscious Captain atop Shadow and looked at (F/N). "You must help me. Get on Shadow."

(F/N) looked at the black stallion, who seemed to consider her with much hate, just like his owner. But, she brushed all uncertainties aside and quickly hopped on the complaining horse. Erwin began skillfully coaxing it to relax. Now, she was positioned just behind the Captain. Her heart leaped at the close contact with the man she adored despite the dangerous situation they were in.

Erwin went back to his horse and gestured for his men to retreat. And despite all of the ruckus, the people remained uncaring and unaffected. The observant Commander noticed the look on (F/N)'s face and told her, "It's no use. More men are pointing guns at them, they couldn't do anything but watch."

(F/N) gulped audibly in nervousness. What situation did she land herself into?

"Fall back!" Erwin ordered and the men started riding back to the Scouting Legion Headquarters.

(F/N) took Shadow's reins and did her best in making Levi's horse move. "Let's go, Shadow,..."

They rode fast without a single glance behind them. They arrived at the Headquarters just before twilight.

It has begun, thought Erwin grimly as Hange met them at the gates.

***

Knock, knock, @yepps , @levi4mikasa , @clovemcpandas , @unhappysap , and @shewolfofficial . 💚

***

💚💚💚

***

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #captain levi #see me now #levi x reader #levi x you #snk jean #snk hange #snk petra #snk nifa #snk erwin #chapter 6 #pursuers

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