#given chapter 37 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kamiversee · 1 month

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 37 || The Priceless Gift

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & more fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.3k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——REMEMBER WHEN YOU ASKED YOURSElF if your feelings for Choso were fading? Remember how you thought for a moment you were actually falling for Gojo Satoru, the same man who blackmailed you? Yeah, maybe you were just a bit confused.

Choso's calming voice echoed through your ears and you felt like you were about to cry tears of joy. You wouldn't say you were head over heels for the man but given the fact that you just received such a heartfelt gift from Gojo and now Choso was speaking to you for the first time in about two months...

There were a lot of emotions fluttering around in your heart. You were so fucking conflicted. Even though, your decision should be easy, right? Gojo blackmailed you and Choso treated you perfectly, why are you finding difficulty in choosing who you should settle your heart on?

Why do you want them both in the first place? Is it because you know there's something about the blackmailing situation that Gojo's not telling you and that whatever it is, you know it'll change how you feel? Not to mention, you can't just ignore all of Gojo's poetic confessions.

He called you his eternity.

Meanwhile, Choso hasn't sent even so much as a text in two whole months. You can't be upset with him for it because you understood how hard it was for the man to spend time with you amid the uncertainty you brought but even so, a text every now and then would've been nice.

"Is that okay?" Choso suddenly asked, breaking you from your thoughts, "Is it possible for me to see you today?"

"U-Uhm," You swallow. Your hands were shaking so badly. When did your anxiety get this bad? All of your nerves were everywhere and your heart was throbbing. "Give me a s-second, Choso. Please?"

You hear him sigh softly, "Take as long as you need, angel."

Your eyes shot up to the ceiling as you smiled at his words yet again. After a moment of blushing you nodded, "I'll be right back." You told him.

Choso hummed, "Alright."

With that, you carefully placed the phone on mute and then rushed back to the living room. A new movie was on the TV and the trio seemed to be decently into it. Well, with the exception of Gojo who turned his head as soon as you popped around the corner.

His eyes met yours and both of you sent each other a look. Before you could get anything out, the man mouthed out his words to you, "Just go."

Your brows furrowed. How did he even know you were about to ask them if it was okay to leave? Did he set this up? You do remember Gojo mentioning that you should try talking to Choso during winter break but, he couldn't possibly be behind this, right?

He wasn't. But, Gojo wanted you to be with Choso. He puts your happiness above everything and Gojo so clearly saw the way your eyes lit up at Choso's contact popping up on your phone. The white-haired man wasn't even jealous over it either (he thinks), he was actually happy for you.

So, of course, if you come running around the corner after a few minutes of talking to Choso, it's obvious what you came to say. Given that, Gojo's look was serious and if you didn't go, he was going to force you to.

You, too frozen to move yet, simply stood there with wide eyes as you processed Gojo's mouthed words to you.

The male sighs and then stands up, humming a quiet I'll be back to both Geto and Shoko who hadn't even realized you were standing just around the corner. Gojo then walks over to you, placing a hand on your stomach softly and lightly pushing you back around the corner.

You bat your eyelashes at the tall man as he backs you all the way away from the living room, "S-Satoru, I-"

"Shut up," Gojo utters, his voice low and relaxed with you, "I don't want a single argument from you. Go to him."

You grab ahold of his wrist and he stops pushing you. "But what about-"

"What about what?" He sighs tiredly.

You swallow, "What about you?"

Gojo's heart skips a beat and he smiles, "What about me, sweetheart?"

"I can't just-,"

"First, you tell me you shouldn't be in love with me, to which I agree. Then, you'd tell me about how you missed Choso. And now, he's called you and I'm pretty sure he asked to see you so," Gojo leans down to your eye level and his gaze softens, "Where's the hesitation coming from?"

Your eyes are all glossy with stressed tears, "I don't know, Satoru. I-I'm confused."

"About what?" He chuckles a little, struggling to wrap his head around your current emotions.

"Who I want," You explain.

He shakes his head, "Don't be."

"But I-"

"I'm no good for you. You know that." Gojo emphasizes, "Please don't let me intoxicate you with my feelings. Let's not complicate this, okay?"

A frown takes over your expression. Never in a million years did you think you'd find yourself in such a predicament where you struggle to choose between one man and another.

You sucked in a deep breath and look off to the side, "Satoru..."

"Just... At least go see him." Gojo murmurs, moving his hand to your chin and turning you right back to face him, "Then, maybe make up your mind afterward, yeah?"

"Won't seeing him just make it worse?" You ask.

He scoffs, "No. The worst thing you can do right now is pick me over him."

"But-"

He whispers your name, "Go see him."

You're too hardheaded to listen right now, "Satoru-"

"If you spend another minute here complaining," He shuts his eyes for only a minute, then his tone goes void of that loving emotion, "I'm telling Shoko about the list."

Your eyes widen, "You're not seriously blackmailing me again, are you??" You question in disbelief.

It's so obvious now that the man is a good actor because the way his entire mood shifted back to the one you initially dealt with when the list started is almost frightening.

"I told you, sweetheart," He stands up straight and his gaze is dark, almost cold, "I'm no good for you."

You frown and inch closer to him, placing a hand on his arm, "But... You can be."

He grits his teeth, "Stop that."

"Stop what?" You question, tipping your head to the side with this gentle look in your eyes.

"Trying to figure me out. I told you, I'm not some problem for you to solve." Gojo utters. He doesn't sound upset but he's earnest with you, "I don't want to argue with you anymore so, please, just go see him."

The two of you stare into each other's eyes for one last long moment before you give him a little nod and a quiet okay. Gojo lets out a relieved sigh and then moves his hand to the back of your head and pulls you close to him. Your eyes go wide as he does so and you can tell his short-lived cold attitude has faded away.

His lips then press into your forehead and he stays still for another long moment before pulling away. You then lift your head and your gaze up to him and he looks down at you.

His hand moves to the necklace around your neck, feeling it against his skin for a moment as he smiles, "Go on now, go be happy with him."

You wanted to argue and say you could be happy with him instead, that you could just stay right here and give in to the impending blossom of feelings in your chest for him. But, Gojo would never allow you to do so.

So, instead, you just gave in and soon parted ways with the man after one last hug and a quiet thank you for everything. Gojo then walked you out and he told you that you could come back whenever you wanted, whether it was later that night or early the next morning, he said it didn't matter-- if you wanted to come back, he'd be there to open the door for you.

With that, you and him finally separated.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As you left the apartment, you unmuted your phone and raised it to your ear, "Hello?"

You're surprised Choso sat there the whole time but, his response was immediate, "M'still here." He mumbled.

You smile a little, "Where uh, where do you want to meet up?"

"I'm actually at my art studio right now," Choso tells you, he sounds a little tired. "I'll leave the door unlocked for you."

"Okay, I'm on my way," You say.

You can't see it but he smiles at the fact that he'll be able to lay his eyes on you again, his heart rate increasing at the thought alone, "Cya soon." Choso hums.

His voice was so mellow and relaxed and you loved hearing every second of it. After that brief conversation, the two of you got off the phone and you left the apartment complex completely, quick to get in your car and drive to the man.

The drive felt longer than ever. Each second that passed, each red light that stopped you, every street you drove by, it all felt as though it were going by in slow motion. Your heartbeat was increasing and increasing, anxiety creeping up throughout your veins and making you sweat a little.

Since when did Choso make you this damn anxious? You had to control your breathing as you drove, making sure you took the proper turns as the location of his art studio was imprinted into your brain, even though you'd only been there a few times.

You wondered what he was doing there at this time of night. It was around nine o'clock and you didn't know Choso to do anything artistic around this time. But, maybe things had changed within the two months you went without him. What if he had changed?

What if he sees you and he realizes he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if he gets tired of waiting for you to be ready? What if you were to confess to him and he turns you down? What if he fell for someone else?

Your mind wouldn't stop pushing question after question as you drove. You were beyond uneasy and you loathed that feeling. Choso was supposed to be your peace of mind. He usually is. Normally, when you think about the man, you can't help the swelling of your heart and the smile that spreads across your face.

Where are all these negative thoughts and emotions coming from?

Is this, perhaps, what he experienced? That uncertainty that Choso said he felt before he left you, is this what he meant? The process of wondering all different kinds of scenarios over and over and never being sure of what'll prove to be true and what won't?

You hope Choso didn't experience this-- this sucked.

Before you even realized it, you were parked outside of the designated address. You had to reach in your bag for some perfume and spray it on yourself just in case as if that would bring a calming to your unsettled nerves.

Then, with a deep breath, you got out of your car and headed inside. The building was rather large, filled with all kinds of rented-out spaces, and Choso was located on the fifth floor.

You took the elevator up, taking multiple deep breaths as the elevator creaked and creaked, dinging with each floor it passed up until you reached the fifth. You paced down the lengthy hallway until you got to his place and then stopped in front of the door.

Swallowing hard, you carefully placed your hand on the doorknob and twisted. Opening the door, the studio was dimly lit as you entered and at first, you couldn't see much. The studio was huge and tall, having enough room for its own second floor, which is where the light was coming from.

You were quiet with shutting the door behind you and locking it. Carefully walking through the scattered and various art supplies lying around, you traveled through the room and toward the back, making your way up the short set of stairs and soon laying eyes on Choso.

He was sitting on a couch and you think your mouth watered at the initial sight. His head was turned to the side as he looked at one of his paintings and his positioning on the couch was just...

There was this purple LED light that kept the room dimly lit and it only made the man all the more attractive. Choso was manspreading, his thighs parted so sexily as he sat shirtless in these black slightly paint-covered sweatpants. His hair was loose and his muscular arms were stretched over the back of the couch comfortably.

That was, until he saw you in his peripherals and turned his head to you. You froze in your steps as your eyes met his and you think you forgot how to speak. Choso's brain seemed to stutter as well as he blinked a few times.

You then watched him slowly shift to stand up and your feet slowly moved toward him. Both of you took a moment to process but your bodies were moving on their own and Choso was quick to rush over to you as you rushed toward him.

Your bodies clashed with each other and your arms went up over his neck whilst his larger arms went around your waist. The scent of his cologne and a hint of fresh paint entered your nose as you nuzzled into him.

Your feet left the ground for a second as Choso squeezed you and lifted you into the air, holding you as if he'd waited forever for this moment. With a fluttering heart, you chuckled in reaction to his tight grasp.

Choso carefully places you back down and his arms ease from around your waist as he instead grips onto your sides. Your arms slide down and you rest your hold on his biceps for a moment as the two of you take in each other's features for the first time since he left.

Slowly and carefully, his hands leave your sides completely, finding solace in cupping your face in his palms, "Holy shit," Choso gasps, gazing so deeply into your eyes, "I missed you so much."

You bat your eyelashes at the male, a smile printed across your features as you do so, "I missed you too Cho."

His brows tense at the softness of your voice and you notice the heavy bags under his eyes. Choso leans his face close to yours, pulling you in as he does so, "I'm sorry."

His apology perplexes you and you giggle nervously, "For what?" You ask through an uneasy smile.

"Not calling or responding to your texts," He explains, "T-That was shitty of me and I'm sorry."

You peer into his almost doe-like brown eyes and you literally watch as his pupils expand into a larger size. Shit, has his eyes always dilated to such a degree when he looked at you? Or... Is this just your first time noticing?

"No, you don't have to apologize, Cho. It's okay," You hush out to him, your eyes unknowingly glossing up. Water coated your gaze due to your heightened emotions.

From uncertainty to straight-up anxiety, everything felt like it was about to crash over you. You'd waited for so long for this very moment and you almost forgot what it was like to be with Choso. However, standing here right now allowed all those memories to rush back to you in a matter of seconds.

Those late-night rendezvous with him, the laughs, the smiles, the teasing, the joy, the fun, the mischief-- all of it. Every last memory of this man thrums throughout your mind within a single moment and you remember it all.

You remember what it felt like for your heart to skip a beat when he spoke to you, what it felt like to experience that breath of fresh air that was his presence for only a moment. You finally recalled how Choso was your freedom. He is your peace, paralleling how you are Gojo's eternity, his whole.

Choso's fingers slip up along your face, just barely making contact with your eyelids and forcing them shut so that your tears could fall freely, "I really hope these aren't because of me," He murmured, quick to wipe away the moisture as soon as they fell from your sockets.

You sniffle and your smile has yet to fade, "They're tears of joy I swear."

He smiles and you watch the corners of his eyes crinkly a little as water glosses over his eyes too, "You're that happy to see me?"

"Yeah," You whisper, your voice trembling in emotion.

The man pouts and tips his head to the side a little, "I'm so sorry, princess," Choso apologizes again, weighing his face even closer and so much so that your breaths are shared.

"You d-don't have to apologize, I understand. It's just... I dunno, one call would've been nice," Your voice is so shaky and fragile that it even affects the way he holds your face.

His touch is so light that it's almost as though it's not even there, "I couldn't..." Choso sighs. His tone is soft and shaky just like yours, "One call is all it'd take for me to end up right back in your arms as I wish to be."

You frown, "T-Then what changed today? Hm?"

His lips are almost on yours, "I couldn't take it anymore. It may have seemed like it was easy for me to create that distance between us but..." Choso swallows hard, "I couldn't go even twenty-four hours without thinking of you."

Your frown lifts to a half smile, "Yeah?"

Choso nods and the gesture is done almost needily, desperation vexed into his gaze as he simply pours his longing emotions down into you through his soft looks alone. His sights then slip down to your lips, "Can I please kiss you?"

It was as though you could feel the physical squeeze his request had on your heart. The grip was strong, dangerous, and threatening. Your heart was so loud and heavy you could feel it pounding against your ears and blood and heat rushed there and to your face.

You nod a little and then shut your eyes in sync with his, both of your lips finally pressing into each other. There's pure tranquility flooding throughout your entire being as his soft, long-since-untouched lips move against yours. A floodgate of pure and swelled emotions had burst open as his lips were met with your own.

Sure, he doesn't kiss you like how Gojo does but, that doesn't make it any less enjoyable.

Choso's lips are soft, careful against yours, and steadily moving over yours in the way he remembers you enjoying. You relish in his touch, the taste of his tongue soon settling over yours and he prises your mouth open and slides right in as if that's exactly where he belonged.

A slight hum exits your throat as you kiss him back fervently and his hands move away from your face and back down to your waist. Choso jerks your body closer and up against his own, his fingers sinking into you even through the thick layers of clothing you wore. For a moment, as you make out he shifts again and this time works your coat off your body, allowing it to fall to the floor.

You were too engrossed in his lips to care and even pushed yourself right back into him afterward. Choso smiled against your lips as you did so and then he snaked his arms around your waist and walked you backward to the couch he'd previously been sitting on.

Both of your mouths go a bit wider and your tongues swivel over one another sensually with a loud and wet slick sound. With your lips never prying from each other, Choso carefully eases back down onto the couch and you comfort yourself right on top of him.

The sound of your kissing, his hums, and your light moans filled the entirety of the art studio, the noises bouncing off the walls and hitting both of your ears-- adding to the sensuality of it all.

With a loud smack, Choso just barely pulled his mouth from yours, "Fuck," He pants and then groans out your name so lowly that it spurs chills up your spine, "I missed you so fucking much."

You grin, "Yeah?"

"Every day," Choso begins, struggling to catch his breath, "I missed you more and more every single day."

You peck his lips one more time and gaze down at him through low-lidded eyes, "I missed you too."

His touch slides down and Choso settles his hold on your hips as you comfort yourself into his lap. He's still panting and his face is flushed. Cheeks reddened, the tips of his ears smothered in blush, his lips moist from you, and his expression needy.

Choso does that thing you missed where he simply basks in the feel of you being with him, taking in your every detail like always, "You're so... so fuckin' perfect." He compliments, unable to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, "You..." His words come out breathily, "You consume my thoughts, y'know that right?"

You smile, "Do I?"

He nods almost like a little puppy. "You do."

With a slight chuckle, you never once break the eye contact, "Y'know... I wasn't expecting to see you today so uh, I didn't get you anything." You tell him.

Choso sighs and tips his head back against the couch, still gazing up at you, "My gift is you being here right now, I couldn't ask for much more than that."

"That's so sweet," You giggle, gushing at his words to you, "But, I still wish I actually got you something."

His eyes are low on yours, barely even open as he gazes at you with those naturally sleepy eyes of his, "There's no need, baby. Trust me. You're all I wanted for Christmas."

You roll your eyes, "Okay Mariah Carey."

He flashes that sexy yet lazy smile of his, "I really didn't mean to reference her but," He shrugs, "It works. Also, I got you something."

Your eyes light up, "Really, what is it?"

"Well, technically I made you something." Choso clarifies.

The shifting of your body over his makes him suck in a sharp breath as you grow eager to know what he's got for you, "What is it? Either show or tell me already."

Choso grips your hips a little, "First off, quit' movin' so much. Secondly, it's two gifts and the first is over there," He nods his head off to the left and your sights rush in that direction.

You spot a relatively large box wrapped in pretty gift wrap with a pretty big bow on it, "Aw, Cho you didn't have to get me anything..." You say, despite being ecstatic about it as you raise yourself from his lap.

His hands slip off your body whilst you stand to your feet and then pace over to the designated box, quickly picking it up and shaking it a little as if that'll tell you what's in it. It's large and rectangular, relatively thin but still big nonetheless.

"I hope you like it," Choso hums while he sits up a little and watches you take a seat beside him.

Your hands work to tear open the gift. The item makes your eyes go wide and your jaw drop completely. To little surprise, it's a painting. But, not just any random painting. And no, it wasn't that first portrait of you he made months ago when he first met you...

Instead, it was something much more beautiful. Most of Choso's artwork consists of dark colors and thick sharp lines that mold together to form something beautiful. But this? Oh, it was almost foreign to the man's art style.

In your hands was a painting of your eyes. Within your pupils was your eye shade but when you look close enough, you spot small words made out within it in different shades. He'd used those words to express the things he sees when he makes eye contact with you while simultaneously capturing the beauty that is your eye color.

It was gorgeous.

You read so many different words; beautiful, love, perfection, amazing, smart, talented, inspiring, breathtaking, soul-touching, my epiphany, peace, euphoria, god's greatest creation, etc. The list went on and on, each word so very tiny yet easy to read if you looked closely enough. All of which was painted within your eyes.

Outside of that, the image was still stunning, capturing your lashes down to the finest ones, the texture of your skin even imprinted perfectly, and the feel of genuine emotion oozing off the artwork in your hands.

Your speech was stripped from you as you took in what you were staring at. How do you respond to such a dedicated piece of art? Your heart was pounding against your chest once more and you didn't even realize the image had brought tears to your eyes until a droplet trickled onto your hand.

"F-Fucking hell," You curse, your breath unsteady. Sniffling was heard from you as you dragged your gaze up and to Choso, "I..."

His eyes are casual on yours, as if he didn't just give you something that took him months to capture properly. "Merry Christmas," Choso uttered, nervousness hinted in his words.

Your brows tense up, "You... When..." You struggled to piece together the right thing to say as you looked back down to the item, "C-Choso, I love this."

He bites back the cheesing smile he almost flashed, "I'm glad you do."

"H-How long did this take?" You whisper, moving to wipe your joyful tears away and look back up to him.

Choso shrugs, "Few' months."

"Were you working on this before you... before you left?" You ease out in question.

"Mhm," He hums, "I'm uh, I'm not the best with words at times so, for every time I wanted to say one of those things to you but couldn't, I painted it. Then, after I left... Well, the rest of the words began to fill the shape of your irises faster than I expected." Choso explains to you.

You place the gift down to the side and crawl across the couch to him, grabbing his face and pulling him close before crashing your lips into his. Choso laughs into your kiss, his eyes widening for a split second before he flutters them shut and kisses you back. It's heavier than the one prior as you make out with him gratefully.

Barely breaking away for air, you hush out your words to him, "Thank you."

Choso was about to say you're welcome but he was cut off by your tongue sinking into his mouth. He simply melted into your touches and aggressive kisses, adoring the feeling of it all.

His body turned a bit to get more comfortable kissing you and one of your hands slid down to his neck, feeling all of his skin tense under your touch. Choso soon breathed out your name in between your kisses, trying to gain your attention but you were so wrapped up in thanking him through the motion.

To snap you out of it, Choso suddenly takes control and you feel his teeth latch onto your bottom lip and he nibbles, pulling your skin slightly as he groans and moves a hand to your waist. His hand swipes under your shirt and he firmly squeezes your side, abruptly tickling you and making you chuckle away from the kiss.

You both part from each other with soft laughter and Choso smiles at you, "Baby, you have another gift, y'know."

You shrug, "I don't need it, that was enough. That was perfect, Choso."

"You're gonna like the second one too though," He says, playfully pouting.

Your head shakes, "Whatever it is, return it if possible, I don't need anything more."

He smirks, "It's not exactly something I can return..."

A sigh leaves you, "What is it then?"

With a little huff, Choso moves to stand up. When he does, his arms go up and he stretches a little. The man then slides over a little to stand right in front of you and you peer up at him with wide and curious eyes.

Raising a brow at the man, you remain confused, "What is it?"

Choso leans forward, placing his hands on the back of the couch and trapping your smaller frame in between his arms. "I got a new tattoo I wanted to show you but, I want you to find it."

There's no way. He didn't tattoo his dick, did he?

You chuckle and shift to sit comfortably in between his muscular arms, "Choso... How is your new tattoo gonna be a gift for me?"

"Search for it and find out," He taunts.

You nearly told him that he's just like his brother in that sense but then you mentally cursed yourself for even comparing the two in the first place. With a roll of your eyes, you start moving your hands, "Finnnee.."

Slowly, you move to his waistline where his black sweats are, carefully and sensually pulling at the drawstring as you keep your eyes up on his. Choso's gaze is down on your face the entire time, even as he feels you tug at his sweatpants.

"Am I gonna' have to take these off?" You ask suggestively.

His head tilts a little and he nods, "Mhm, take em' off me, princess."

You do your best to keep control of your hormones as his words hit your ears. Then, you carefully pull his pants down a bit, stopping when he starts talking again.

"You won't have to search too far down though," Choso adds on.

You finally break eye contact and look down, seeing the band of his boxers and having something tell you to just barely pull them down. So, you do. Revealed to you are dark-inked letters written in cursive that are almost hidden beneath the left end of his prominent and sharp v-line. You bat your eyelashes at what the letters spell out.

It's your fucking name.

"Holy shit," You curse as your eyes broaden and your head tilts to inspect it, "Choso I know this isn't my name tattooed on you..."

He chuckles and pushes himself up so that he can stand straight up, moving a hand down to the fabric of his clothing to reveal it in full without exposing his manhood, "It is," Choso hums.

You look up at him, your face completely flushed, "Why would you-"

Choso pulls his pants back up and clicks his tongue, "I already told you, princess," Once he's presentable again, he leans down to your face once more, "I'm all yours."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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aestherin · 1 year

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37: it's all yours

NOTE a gift from me 🤍 a long chapter. thank you for waiting!! 🤍

This is surely a nightmare.

You swore you could cry from the sheer feeling of dread alone.

'What the actual fuck is this? Why are we here? Hello? What is this? This is surely the wrong stop. I wanna scream. Why here oh my god?'

Even though you were still inside your manager's car, it was visible how gray the skies were. Rain wasn't present, at least not yet, but the clouds looked so heavy, as if they were carrying a heavy burden.

They looked just about ready to burst.

You found it laughable, how even the heavens above seemed to reflect how you were feeling.

Your manager took the liberty of opening your car door for you, mainly because you were taking too long. "Get off."

You looked up at her, holding tightly to your seatbelt and refusing to let go.

"I don't wanna get out."

"Why are we here in this haunting place anyway?" You forced a smile, which she returned with a suspicious one. "I told you, didn't I? The CEO of Cypressus wants to meet you."

"Here?"

"Why else would we be here?" She questioned back, now also removing your seatbelt for you. "If you don't get out, we would be late for our appointment. That's not a good impression to make for a VIP, [Name]."

"Why are we meeting at Ayato's family house?" You cried out.

"Oh, this is his house? I didn't know. I just followed the address their CEO gave me."

This is eerie. Something about this is not right. Why —

"Stop thinking. Clear your mind, we have someone to meet."

The immense friction between the ground and your shoes (caused by your manager literally dragging you) can be heard, aside from you and your companion's quick banters. Well, it was actually mostly you crying out questions and her attempting to make you shut up.

Going through the short path on the way to the estate's gate, you noticed that barely anything has changed. As expected, their residence was well-maintained. Given the amount of staff and resources they have, it would be even weirder if they did not manage to keep the estate in its pristine state.

The only difference between your previous visit and now?

No personnel of the Kamisato clan is on sight.

Perhaps they are all inside? Or all of them have day offs today? Or maybe they all decided to file a leave on the very same day? Maybe the CEO of that famous bubble tea shop rented out the whole place to meet you? Wait, is a family residence even available for rent —

"We're here," your manager stated as both of you arrived at the gate.

"I really don't wanna do this."

"You're just gonna talk."

"'You're'? You mean me? Not 'we'? Are you leaving me alone?" You were on the verge of crying. It wasn't that you were sad. It was out of nervousness. Thank Celestia that no matter what heavy emotion you feel, you tend to cry.

Sad? Crying. Anxious? Sobbing. Angry? In tears.

Amidst your internal chaos, your beloved manager simply shrugged. "He requested to talk to you personally, not me."

"And you obliged?"

"It's for your own good."

"You sound like my mother."

"You think I don't notice that you're stalling?" she eyed you. You then felt both hands on your shoulder, forcing you to face the estate that brought you so many memories all at once. A little push, and voila!

You're all alone now.

It was not until you heard the heavy sound of the gate shutting that you turned around. "What the fuck?! Manager?!"

"Best wishes!" She yelled from the other side. Best wishes? Really? It's not like she's sending me off to get married, right?

... Right?

You stayed as still as a stone for a few minutes. Was this place really deserted? And where the heck is Cypressus' CEO? Is he inside? Should you go inside? Do you even dare to enter?

You gave your wristwatch a glance and realized you're already a few minutes late beyond call time. Maybe you really should stop wasting time outside and go in.

You were only able to take a few steps along the stoned path before you heard the main door creak.

It was a sound that could be heard anywhere, and yet... this specific noise, in this very place... it made your heart drop.

What you saw was even worse.

You could've died.

Out came a tall, fine man in an all white outfit consisting of a simple button-down and slacks, still oh so refined as ever.

How many days has it been? Or maybe even weeks, since you last saw each other?

Your heart was confused.

Those enchanting lavender eyes of his remained on you. They were magnetic, yet repelling all the same. Magnetic in a sense that you want nothing to do but just run straight into his arms, because you missed him so damn much. Repelling, because at the same time, you also want to run away for fear of confrontation.

Fear of falling even deeper.

Fear of falling into the depths, until no return.

Your lips slightly parted. It was hard to breathe — this instance, this atmosphere, his presence. It was too much. Too much for your little brittle heart to handle.

"[Name]," he uttered.

Fuck. And now you heard his voice? You were surely on the road to damnation.

Meanwhile, you weren't aware, but the man in front of you was likewise, dying. Dying to get close, dying to touch you, hug you, kiss you.

Dying to be with you, again.

Ayato silently rejoiced that you did not run away immediately at the sight of him. He feared that once you saw him, you would instantly go away, far and out of his reach. Thank the archons she stayed.

As he made his way towards you, you stayed still. You didn't even know how you managed to keep the eye contact with him. And then you notice.

He is a remarkable actor, but you've seen his genuine smile plenty enough to know that everything he's outright expressing is feigned. His lips may display a slight curve, but his eyes... They never lie. In them were weariness, sadness... longing.

Ayato now stood directly in front of you. "Hey," his voice cracked. "I missed you."

"Hi," you forced out a smile too.

It was a long time of looking at each other in silence, with faux smiles plastered on. No one dared to make a noise, nor an action.

Until Ayato couldn't take it anymore and pulled you into a tight hug.

His head sunk on your shoulders. You could feel all of his weight on you, as if he was deliberately sharing with you how exhausted he was from everything. How spent he was, and how your appearance at his house today was his only saving grace in a long time.

You froze.

You felt him shift slightly — no, he was shaking.

"Love," desperation was evident in his voice. "I —"

Ayato couldn't even talk. The composure he tried so hard to muster while waiting for you crumbled, just like that. One glimpse of you, and he broke. Are you now thinking how pathetic he is? Do you despise him now? Of course you do. Why wouldn't —

He felt your fingers caress his hair.

A simple gesture. Yet when it was combined with so much pining, sorrow, and despair... he couldn't stop himself anymore from sobbing in your embrace.

His last attempt at faking collectedness was hiding himself even further into the crook of your neck.

"Why are you crying?" You spoke softly. "I should be the one doing that," you joked.

"I know." Ayato's voice was muffled. Despite the situation, you can't help thinking how cute he was like this. Of course, you definitely prefer him being his usual cool self over him being a broken mess.

But it was a wonder, getting to see him like this, and getting to experience a new side of him.

The two of you stayed like that for a while: him trying to hide his crying in your shoulder (although his faint noises ratted him out) and you continuing to run your fingers through the tufts of his hair.

It wasn't awkward at all, contrary to what one would expect. Rather, it was warm and comfortable, not until he pulled himself away.

Your eyes travelled down, together with him.

"I'm sorry," his voice was low as he looked up at you. Kamisato Ayato, the renowned celebrity, the man with sharp lavender eyes, the scheming man that you've grown to love, the man that you would put above everything, even yourself, just fell to his knees. Groveling. Pleading. Begging.

But what exactly was he sorry for? Weren't you the one who owes an apology? After all, you were the one who suddenly announced that you two 'broke up' — as if there was even really something going on — without even waiting a response from him.

Then you ghosted everyone.

So really, what was your darling actor sorry for?

He held your hands, eyes still on you. "For everything, love. For dragging you into this whole mess. For being an asshole. For being such a stupid fuck."

Ayato breathed.

"For being a damned coward who is afraid of rejection and can't even express his feelings genuinely that he urged you into entering a faking relationship with himself just so he can experience having one with you."

What?

"So please," he leaned his forehead against your thigh, now looking down. "Forgive me and let me fix everything."

"Ayato —"

"Let me fix everything, with me by your side. With us, together."

With that, he was forced to look up as you pulled him. Ayato was still holding your hand even after the change in position, refusing to let you go.

"Ayato." This time, it's you whose voice wavers. "We can't. You know we can't. At least I can't."

"[Name]," he whined. "Love, please."

You took in his appearance. He looked like a mess, everything about him was. His disheveled hair, his teary eyes, his inconsistent breathing.

And yet, you still found him flawless.

"You don't have to forgive me right away. Fuck, you can even torment me. I just want us to be like before, maybe even better," Ayato beseeched.

"I can't believe you still want me," you forced a laugh. "I left you. Announced a break up. I fucking ignored you. All without notice."

"And I deserved all of it."

"No you didn't! You treated me so, so right," tears were now seeping. "You were everything I could ever ask for, love. And what was I to you in return?"

You sobbed.

You hated how memories of everything flashed in your mind.

How he was the perfect fucking lover despite everything being fake, how he never slighted you at the very least, how unfair you were to him sometimes (most times), how he would do just about anything you want, how you kept steering away from him without a word, how unreasonable you were after seeing a single fucking tweet online.

How you left him hanging.

"I was someone who was swayed easily! I was unfair. I kept doubting you, even if I didn't have the right to. You were perfect, I was flawed. You —"

"I wasn't perfect. I know that. Because if I was, you wouldn't have to suffer like how you've been," Ayato frowned. He knew he was the one to blame, and yet... why were you blaming only yourself?

He does not like it when you talk that way about yourself. If you could see yourself through his eyes, he wonders, would you still look at yourself as someone so low and unworthy? He attempts to change the topic subtly. "We're both human. We aren't flawless. A perfect fucking match, [Name]. So why don't we just be with each other —"

"— but I hurt you!"

"And I don't give a fuck." He breathes. "Heck, I would even let you do it again — infinite times more if you wish. Pain me. Hurt me. Break my heart all you want — it's all yours, love."

"But for God's sake, [Name]... please don't leave me."

privacy — ayato x reader smau

prev. masterlist. next.

TAGLIST I (closed) @catsrkool @sukunasrealgf @redactedhimbo @layla240 @mxlkytea13 @itsactuallylina @milza12 @aixaingela @tatiratty @kimiesstuff @laventiseriou @kunihaver @bibisbestgirl @lunaavity @coquettemaiden @opchara @slvdsjjk @cotton-eee @lady-elodie @dearxiiao @wheneverthesunrise @heartswonder @chuduchok @headphonesrlif3 @lleoll @vnderthesunn @lizzardlady1234 @nekogakuro @rifran @atlatcaheart @ani-st @creammpuff @lunastarjay @kittycasie @poisoned-candy-apples @zannivrs @b0bafl0wer @moonlightaangel @elsoleil

#privacy smau #ayato x reader #genshin impact #genshin #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin smau #ayato smau #aestherin #genshin celebrity au #modern au #genshin modern au

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dnsbarbie · 3 months

Text

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (ONE)

Notes: (This involves an Original Character btw)

* English isn’t my first language and I’m still trying to get back my writing mojo ehehe

* No trigger warnings besides mentions of catcalling ??

*This was written to be intentionally a bit vague since it’s just the first chapter

next parts: TWO | THREE

THE AROMA OF FRESHLY watered plants hit her senses. She exhaled the nature-given scent, producing a wave of serotonin in her body. A hand came up to brush away the brunette locks flying across her face from the strength of the wind. Her eyes gazed upon the calm rhythmic waves of the sea, smiling as the floral fragrance mingled with the salty taste of the air.

She was aware of the consequences. The blissful silence she was feeling had a price and the piper would eventually come for the gold. Nonetheless, she chose to bask at the few moments that she had left. Later, she’d be back to scrubbing at a her boss’ expensive yacht. Getting a nice manicure had been long rendered useless at how easily they’d get chipped.

Glancing down at her hands, a grimaced presented itself on her mouth as she spotted the dirt clinging on the inside of her nails.

As she got lost in her thoughts, she raked at her fingernails to clean through the icky substances. She truly had no qualms working for the rich. Not only do they pay handsomely, they also handed her occasional gift apart from her daily salary.

The amount of times she’d been mistaken for a hooker were extremely unhealthy. She often recalls the eye rolls she’d give the old men who’d whistle at her across the port as if she’s some sort of animal.

Lucky for her, her present employer was far from the elderly rich men, sporting beer belly that prey on girls younger than their own daughters.

Her boss was not passed sixty years of age. Instead of bothering young girls, he has this lovely wife and son whom he never fails to show his unwavering devotion to.

One could only dream of a life like his.

“Natalia!”

And here we go.

“Yes?” She yelled back, turning her body to look at the direction of her boss. She watched his towering stature make its way to the harbor, steps creaking beneath the wooden surface.

He squinted at the glare of the sun behind her head. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

Her eyes widened at the invitation, hands waving from left to right. “Oh! I couldn’t possibly intrude—”

“Nonsense. You’re not.” He silenced her worries. “Come on.” Lending an arm to assist her down the step she was standing on.

Natalia stared at him, her features conveying incredulity. “Right now?”

He peaked at her curiously, slowly tugging her away from the port, taking care not to step on her dress. “It’s passed 6 PM . . .” At his remark, she raised her arm to take a look at her watch.

The hands did indicate a 18:37. Her mouth formed into an “o” at the confirmation. She hadn’t realize she had been dilly-dallying for that long. Her break started nearly two hours prior. The thought to recharge her energy were originally to last only an hour at best.

“I’m sorry— I completely lost track of time,” She apologized, tilting her head up to her boss who simply chuckled at her hushed tone.

“It’s quite alright.” He hummed, returning her gaze. “You’ve finished everything, haven’t you?”

She nodded her head, eyes glistening with pride. “I did! The magazines are back inside the father right cabinet, scrubbed the deck and the body. And I swear— It’s so clean, I could see my reflection ever surface,”

Her enthusiasm brought joy to him, optimg to approve her hard work. “Very good, then.” Natalia spotted his wife by one of the many luxurious cars they own.

A kind smile graced her lips as the pair approached her. “Oh, look at you! What have you been doing?” The motherly scolding tone was anything but scary to Natalia as the blonde woman began to fuss over the her.

“You should really tell her to come inside when she’s done, Toto . . .” Your boss winced at his wife’s glare.

Her graceful hands worked through Natalia damp locks, untangling the knots the had formed on her head. “I must’ve gone for a short swim. . .” She released a laugh to cover up her growing anxiety at the glare she threw her way. “I’m fine, Susie! Just need a shower— if we still have time?”

She glanced up at Toto, who suppressed a playful eye roll, nodding at the smiley girl nonetheless.

“Great! I’ll be back as soon as a can!” Natalia landed a peck on Susie’s cheeks before waving a hand to Toto, running back to their estate.

“That girl. . .” Toto clicked his tongue, but the grin on his face betrayed his true feelings.

“Absolutely adorable,” Susie chipped in, eyes crinkling at her husband’s own glee. But as she stared at Natalia’s retreating form, her expression fell serious. “I thought I told you to tell her that she doesn’t have to work for us anymore,”

Toto strides along with Susie as he answered the question. “I will, later over dinner.”

Susie raised an eyebrow at her husband, arms crossing to her chest. “Dinner? The one you’re having with Fred?”

“Yes— but,” He got ahead of her disapproving look, lifting a finger up to soothe away her frustration. “I’m taking her with me to broaden her connections.”

The enlightenment brought recollection to Susie’s features, heart warming the generous gesture Toto was giving to Natalia. “It’s nice that she knows what she wants, no?”

The tall man agreed, tucking his hands inside his pockets. It had been a nearly a year since Natalia started doing minor tasks for them. In her own faith, when she arrived at their residence, a natural rhythm fell place in her actions. The chores that were usually done by the usual cleaning lady was finished by her.

In her persuading self, she tried to Toto that she could do some of the boat cleaning as well. Of course, he was quick to deny her insistence, stating that her studies are the only thing she needs to focus on.

Natalia Valle was an exchange student from the Philippines. She had passed the examination for the University of Monaco and had been staying in the dorms for the last 3 years. That was until a financial crisis arose between her parents and before she knew it, a wet sponge and a bucket of water was her saving grace to get by everyday.

Thankfully, Susie had found her by the harbor. She sat there, eyes falling close a few times. The bags under her eyes were impossible to miss, conveying her lack of rest. Her hands gripped lightly at a fishing rod. The wooden handle constricted at her hand instinctively as the pull of an object from under the water awakened her spirit.

She flinched, eyes flying open at the force. Susie remembers hearing her devastated groans as the string snapped from its hook, light splashes appeared at the large body of water, indicating the fish’s escape.

One would turn away and go on with their life, Susie would have if she hadn’t seen the distinguish cut on her palm. The one she later turned over to use her fingers as a grapple to dig for another hook and string in her bag.

Getting Natalia’s wounds treated by Susie Wolff was definitely not in her bucket list. But she sat there, trying her best not to look too nervous as Susie herself dressed the long cut on her hand.

Susie didn’t need to make small talk, Natalia thought. Unknown to her, the genuine intentions that harbored Susie’s questions.

From there, Susie struck a deal with her after hearing how she ended up on that port. Susie offered to pay off her last year as a journalism student and her dorm rent. All she wanted in return was for her to graduate.

Of course, disbelief was a natural reaction. To Natalia, she hasn’t done anything special to earn a free pass for her burdens to be lifted off her shoulders.

As she expressed her hesitance, stating that she should not leech off someone else so easily with anything in exchange. Irises expanded at her sheer assertions to at least do something for them in return. To wrap her in solace, Susie agreed to the simple tasks.

Here they were, in the present. Natalia continued to work for her allowance despite Toto’s futile attempts to take the chores off the girl’s hands.

But tonight, he’ll finally be telling him a news that would make her, hopefully, drop all those cleaning supplies.

————————————————————————

Natalia clenched her hands in her lap, settling on admiring the silver bracelet adorned with the crystalline diamonds given to her by Susie last Christmas. Her fingernails chipped at her cuticles, watching the car pass through a series of establishments, deliberately crating a closer approximate to their destination.

The silk of her dress wrinkled at the spot which had had enclosed on her hand, leaving the mark of her worries.

“What’s the matter?”

Toto’s voice made spring her though back, choosing to return Toto’s waiting gaze.

“You didn’t tell me Charles was coming,” She sulked, her whiny tone caught a tug at the corners of Toto’s mouth.

“I knew you wouldn’t go if I told you,” The nonchalance of his shrug expelled a sigh from Natalia.

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, twiddling with her phone. At the silence, her thoughts scrambled into one idea. One she couldn’t let go, electing to ask it.

“Are you switching teams?”

Toto didn’t seem astonished at her rash query, solely negating her with a soft “No, I’m not.”

The furrow of Natalia’s brows relaxed at his answer, shoulders sagging in defeat. She swore she had it.

The car came to a holt in front of a popular restaurant she was all familiar with. The bright lights twinkled in her vision as the valet opened her door. She tipped her head as a polite greeting, plucking herself from the seat. Her hand drew the rest of her dress out of the vehicle, proceeding to stand her full height.

Toto came to her side, patiently waiting to get herself ready. When she did, she strode with him to the cemented steps where he lent his hand as assistance.

Just one last step to spare before they’re at the door, but heavens had other plans.

“Toto!” An accented voice came calling from below. His joyful exclamation was accompanied by a chuckle similar to his expression.

Natalia found herself turning back as well. True enough, At the bottom of the stairs stood two figures. The jolly French team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, Frederic Vasseur and the team’s golden boy, Charles Leclerc were both wearing matching smiles.

Toto mirrored their smiles, extending a hand to Fred when the pair reached them. Natalia greeted the team principal as well, shaking his hand lightly. When she let go, her eyes wondered to the green eyed individual in front of her.

“Hi,” She chipped, giving him a soft grin to which he responded with a chuckle.

“Good evening, Natalia.” He roamed his eyes through her well-dressed figure. The silk on her body hugged her curves in all the right places. Charles realized he had been staring for quite some time. Fortunately, Toto invited everyone to come inside and start dinner.

————————————————————————

Dinner was going fairly well. The dimly lit hall invoked an air of ease, along with the delectable dishes that have been served. The candles illuminated her face, giving off a warmth through her skin.

She would go as far as to say it was perfect if it wasn’t Charles’ eyes burning into her face. Granted, when she would attempt to reciprocate his stare, he’d look away. Her consciousness made her click unto her phone’s camera, thinking there might be a peculiar substance on her appearance. However, after a few checks every little while, she found no disarray to her make up.

Why was he looking at her like that?

“Natalia,” At the sound of her name, she snapped her head towards Fred, who sat across Toto. “Toto tells me that you need an internship . . .”

The tone of his voice dripped of knowing. Natalia blinked back at him. “Yes, I am.” Was the only thing she could manage as she studied the expression on his face.

Is he? No, surely not.

Fred inclined his body, hands clasped together on the table as a smirk ghosted on his lips. “Well you’re in luck,” No way. “Ferrari’s currently accepting interns. Would you be—”

“Yes!” A hand slapped on her mouth as her voice resounded through the space.

Charles halted the chortle that crawled up his throat, concealing it with a bow of his head.

“Then it’s settled,” Toto clapped Natalia shoulder in a congratulatory amenity, a sense of pride flourishing in his chest. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll drive you to the Ferrari headquarters.”

Natalia could barely contain her excitement at Toto’s claim. She stood up, reaching her hand toward Fred who gladly received it with the same enthusiasm.

“Thank you so much,” The heat of her eyes were beginning to burn, signaling her near waterworks. “This is such an honor, honestly. . .”

“Actually, we’re heading back to Maranello tomorrow.” Charles joined the conversation, peering up at her standing stature. “You can go with me, if you want,”

Natalia didn’t miss the emphasis on the last words, lips curling behind her teeth at the suggestion.

“That would be great,” She nodded, shooting him a grateful look. “Is 9 AM fine?”

Trying to catch Natalia’s gaze, he kept his on her. “Perfect.”

An indecipherable expression crossed Charles’ features, leaving as quickly as it came when Natalia blinked.

This is wasn’t a well thought idea. Natalia was aware of this fact. The thought of spending four hours in a car with Charles sent rippling shudders down her back. Perhaps the yearning to commit to her life long dreams were stronger than the impending discomfort she had to endure for a few moments.

After all, they both agreed never to speak about it ever again. A long car ride shouldn’t be so hard.

————————————————————————

NEXT PART: H E R E

195 notes · View notes

meshlasolus · 6 months

Text

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am

Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.

Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.

MASTERLIST

Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

It had been almost three days.

You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.

"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.

"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.

It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.

Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'

You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.

"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."

You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.

"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.

He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.

"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.

"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.

"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."

His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.

"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."

You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.

Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.

"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.

"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.

You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.

You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.

"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."

"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.

"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.

Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.

It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.

She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.

You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.

"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"

You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.

"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."

Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.

"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."

You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

Did he just-?

"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."

You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.

You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.

"What kinda interior stuff?"

He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.

"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."

You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.

"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.

"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."

It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.

"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.

Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.

"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"

Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.

"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.

"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.

"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.

Joel was the first one to stand up with you.

"You don't have to-"

"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.

"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.

"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.

"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.

You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.

"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.

"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.

"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"

She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.

"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.

She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.

"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."

"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.

Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.

The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.

He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.

When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.

You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.

"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.

"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.

"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.

"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."

He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.

"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.

"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."

You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.

"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.

"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."

"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.

You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.

You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:

Missin you down here…

You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.

I’d come back if there was an open seat.

A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.

Open seat right next to me

Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…

You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.

You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.

I can’t either. Stay up there.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.

Wasn’t thinking about leavin.

This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.

“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”

Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.

“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”

He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.

“I’ll think about it.”

His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.

He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?

The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.

It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.

He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.

“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.

“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”

They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.

“Leavin’ already?”

They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.

“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.

“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”

You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-

He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.

You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.

He just bro hugged you. This man just-

He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.

“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”

“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”

You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.

You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.

“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”

He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.

You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.

“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”

"Seems like the fair thing to do."

“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.

You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.

He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.

“Was that better?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.

“You wanna come inside a while?”

Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.

“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.

“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.

He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.

He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.

“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.

“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”

He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.

“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.

“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”

He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.

“You think I’m handsome?”

He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.

“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.

“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”

You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?

“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.

“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.

“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”

It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.

“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”

“Oh, do you?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”

You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.

“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”

He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.

“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.

“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”

He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.

When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.

“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”

You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.

“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”

“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”

You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.

And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.

There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.

He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.

“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.

The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.

He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.

He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.

“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.

He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.

The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.

The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.

“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”

He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.

“Let go , baby.”

You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.

You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.

The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.

“You wanna stay over?”

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #joel miller age gap #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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jiminjamms · 2 months

Text

sex therapy :: 27. missed me?

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. therapist! toji. a very broken marriage (cont.). heavy angst but i am still not gege. infidelity/adultery. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.0k

notes: i hope everyone has been swell! sending hugs to every corner of the world, and i hope my writing can be your little break from reality. i have also added more chapters to the fic since i cannot wrap up the story in the next few chapters, ha. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

12:33 PM Toji called 12:33 PM He told me that my daughter collapsed in front of the twins? 12:34 PM And you got into a fight with her? 12:34 PM How did that happen? 12:34 PM Are you with her right now? 12:37 PM Answer me please, I need to make sure she’s fine (Missed Call) 12:38 PM Can you phone me back asap? Thx 12:38 PM I’m still in the office right now, wrapped up the weekly meeting with the operating committee 01:01 PM Hello? 01:01 PM Hey, are you there? (Missed Call) 01:12 PM Toji called again, he gave me a rundown, and I have to say… 01:12 PM I’m very, very disappointed in you

Perhaps the better word would be terrified, but Naoya was truly and genuinely astounded.

How the fuck did this happen?

Naoya could feel his breathing grow shallow and his body turn cold as he read through each message from his Chief Operating Officer once, twice, three times. For a while, he stared at his chat history, his shaking thumb hovering over the screen while his mind went blank.

What started as an argument between just you and him now had your father involved. Not only your father, though—but also Mai, Maki, and now Toji?! How bothersome. Of course, you had to drag everyone into this! The world always had to revolve around you.

Naoya could not think straight as his chauffeur sped him back to the office from Mari’s apartment later that day. Even when he returned to his CEO suite, he could hardly focus on his conversations with department heads or strategy discussions with the Board when Daisuke L/N’s messages haunted him like an omnipresent and malevolent spirit.

‘I’m very, very disappointed in you.’

Goddamnit!

Naoya did not miss how your father was absent from the afternoon’s meetings either (although he was not stupid enough to point that out aloud at work when Naoya himself was involved in why), nor did he miss his own father’s narrowed gaze which seemingly lingered on him longer than usual.

Oh goodness, did he know, too?

No, he couldn’t have. Otherwise, Naobito Zenin would have pulled him to the side by now and given him a long and stern lecture.

Yet, when the early evening arrived, Naoya ultimately decided he must talk to you directly.

Not because he actually cared about your well-being. (Ha, as if.) But because he needed to quash the possibility that the rest of his family, particularly his Board Chairman father, could get a whiff of his quarrel with you before all hell broke loose.

Moments like these warranted him to push aside his dignity before things could worsen.

His greatest fear would be for this recent argument to become a domino effect, as the downfall in this marriage would certainly place him in hot water.

With that, the current Zenin CEO then tapped his phone for your contact.

He needed to check up on you but ended up in voicemail.

So, he dialed once more.

Voicemail.

Again.

Why were you not picking up his calls?

You always found a way to irk him with how ungrateful you could be. Sure, there was no secret that you hated him. He would admit he was rude, belittling, and patronizing, treating you like a trophy to tote around, a doll to splay at his will, and a woman who needed to learn her place. He knew this and you knew this, because he exclusively tolerated this marriage as a means to accelerate his life.

Despite everything, he made sure his wife was well-fed and looked after, only for you to throw a tantrum and now get his extended family involved? Ludicrous. Why not focus on the good things about him? Could you not see how he had attempted to reach you at least thirty times throughout the day? (His ultimate reason admittedly was selfish, but that’s not the point.)

Anywho, since when did you think that ignoring him was acceptable?

In a frustrated fit, Naoya tossed his phone into his desk’s paper heap and huffed.

To set things straight, he had made many sacrifices in his life to get to his seat today, like how—back in the day—he had to watch TV anchors praise his older cousin while sipping champagne in the Maldives with…whatever girlfriend he had been with at the time. Life had been hard, but he at last had everything he should’ve been entitled to since birth. This position, this family, and this company belonged to him, regardless of what stupid fucking traditions dictated.

Unsurprisingly, when Naoya took the helm, everyone scrutinized him. Sure, he might have lacked in a few (or, more accurately, a lot of…) regards since he hadn’t been built into the position the way Toji Zenin had been, but having you as his wife made him look good in family conversations and public discourse.

He just needed a little more time to get people to trust him. Then, once all the pieces clicked into place, he resolved to toss this marriage to the side.

That ‘time,’ he hoped, would be soon.

For now, he just needed to keep you for as long as he sought fit.

Buzz.

Well, speak of the devil.

You must finally be returning his call.

The sky had gone dark in the windows behind him now, but Naoya practically leaped from his seat, scrambling and shoving papers aside to find his phone buried beneath several printed reports. He hated how his hands quivered as he held the device, not that he could control himself at this point, and he snapped the moment he swiped at his screen.

“Where the hell are you?” Naoya hissed, clipped and impatient.

He did not get an immediate response, which infuriated him even more since he taught you to acknowledge him on the phone.

But then, he learned why.

Because instead, Naoya heard a low and harrowing chuckle.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

The end to a marriage, for obvious reasons, would never be as glamorous as the start to one.

Many would dream for years about a wedding, but far fewer would think the same about a separation.

‘I'm going to file for a divorce.’

Admittedly, you were nervous when you announced the decision aloud in a crowded room for many eyes to see and ears to hear.

After all, even if you recognized the need for a change in your matrimony, you feared the consequences. You didn't want to cause your families to grow apart or your fathers to resent you. In addition, Naoya had been such a dominating fixture in your life these past few months, and he had led you to believe your days without him would be meaningless.

However, no longer could you set aside your emotions for his sake, nor would you expend extensive effort to salvage your marriage for other’s desires. Your sole purpose henceforth was to live a satisfied life without sacrificing more than what you already have for a husband who hardly look your way.

As a result, when you acknowledged divorce as the best possible solution to your demise, you were grateful for the emotional support and relieved faces from your worried father, the younger teenagers, and your trusted therapists.

Especially Toji.

“Come with me,” the very man ordered once you stepped into his apartment’s corridor with him.

Everyone else had been brought down to the apartment’s lower level after the earlier discussion in the master bedroom, with Megumi forced to take on the role as host in his father’s absence. The younger Fushiguro might be aloof and sometimes awkward, but word had gotten around that he was a good chef with his aunts nagging at him to prepare dinner.

“C’mon, don’t you want to show us what recipes you have learned on TikTok?”

“...No, not really. Can we just order KFC?”

The other conversation that drifted upward was between your father and the other three therapists, which made sense given that they all used to be colleagues back when Toji had been the CEO.

There was laughter, chatter, and the entire brouhaha brought ease to your nervous heart.

“Ladies first,” Toji said at some point after you had trailed behind him. He had taken you several meters ahead, opening the door to invite you inside. “This is my home office.”

You did not yet see the point in him doing a House Tour 2.0, but you walked in upon his gesture anyway. The hardwood floor beneath you felt warm, your body heating up slightly despite the coolness in the air.

Toji kept his office space as tidy as the rest of his abode. He had a white leather couch situated by the doorway and a workspace configuration to the side with desk lamps, an expensive chair, and a dual monitor setup.

Above his screens, Toji probably had fifteen accolades in cherry wood frames, each to showcase his achievements as countless magazines named him the best leader, the top executive, and the most promising innovator.

What caught your attention, however, was the wall beside his workstation.

There was a corkboard.

At first glance, the tacked-on magazine cutouts and photograph snippings seemed like a messy litter on the brown surface, but thin red strings—which made this look like a detective movie prop—connected one piece to another and suggested an order to the chaos.

“What is this?” you asked, a question not directed to anyone in particular as you neared the corkboard without waiting for Toji’s permission.

Upon closer distance, the vague letterings and images became clear.

The newspaper cover story fastened at the very center read in big bold print: “Zenin Corporation Announces New CEO.”

As the realization dawned that this was what Toji meant to show you, the man’s measured footsteps came up from behind you. He stopped at your side, watching how you inspected each element on the corkboard as though his room was your laboratory and he was your professor.

“The World Economic Forum estimates that more than 5% of global GDP is lost to corruption around the world each year,” he began, crossing his thick arms firmly over his chest. “Many articles you see here had been published online only to be taken down not even a few hours later. I suspect that Naoya this year alone has spent hundreds of thousands, if not millions, bribing the Japanese media to curate the public image he needs.” He then pointed around. “Look for yourself.”

You would have called Toji out for being a total creep if the objective of this collection had not been obvious. With scarlet threads weaving together to reveal an elaborate web of deceit, Toji had been curating an exposé.

There was one photo from your wedding day. Standing at the altar with Naoya, you looked so happy and blissful back then, the vibrant bouquet in your hands a colorful contrast against the pristine white of your Vera Wang wedding gown, your face radiant with a smile oblivious to the heartache that would come.

This publication, you have seen before.

What you did not recognize, however, were the articles dated from nearly a year ago, well before your wedding day, with even more printed five months ago, two months ago, one week ago…

…and reading the titles made you feel sick.

Japanese Hotshot Shares Intimate Kisses with Rumored Girlfriend Photos Reveal Recently Married Executive’s Secret Affair? Exclusive: Zenin Corporation CEO Spotted in Mexico with Alleged Lover

The accompanying pictures had the same two subjects in plain clothes and baseball caps, showing off little skin to reveal their identities to prying busybodies. Yet, upon an immediate glance, you recognized Naoya Zenin as the taller figure and assumed his very precious ladyfriend must be the other.

Photographers had snapped the two embracing each other in a cab’s backseat, sharing a secret kiss after a luxury mall date, and holding hands while stepping into a private plane.

All to say, you were revolted.

The more you mulled on these printouts, the more you could feel visceral disgust build in your chest.

To think you once contemplated saving a marriage with a man like that. Whatever his plan was for him and this woman, did he intend to make you a side character to their romance until the day you would die?

Your gaze darted around, and the photo with the most unobstructed view of their faces placed you on pause.

All of a sudden, a hard lump formed in your throat because, Holy shit, she’s…stunning.

Seeing the woman who your husband had had his sights on immediately unlocked a whole new level of insecurities within you.

No wonder Naoya could not bring himself to be married to you when he had her.

The woman was exquisite, to say the least. Despite the picture’s poor quality, you noticed her bright elegant face, plump pink lips, and long full lashes—precisely the characteristics that would turn heads in a crowded room. In fact, you secretly wished that you possessed her overflowing pulchritude as well.

If she was an angel from your point of view, she must also be in Naoya’s eyes all the more.

You gingerly drew a circle around her with a finger.

“Is she his mistress?”

Why did you even ask that? You already knew the answer. But, you wanted to confirm the facts rather than satisfy your curiosity.

Meanwhile, Toji ran his index finger very slowly over his lower lip.

He answered a while later.

“Yes.” As you had expected. Then, he added, “But she’s also my ex-wife.”

What—

Your jaw dropped to the trenches.

If you thought tonight had been filled with enough revelations, this one really sealed the deal.

His…ex-wife?!

Unlike the man before you, hiding your deepest emotions had never been your forte. Instead, you had gone stiff as your mind reeled in shock.

“She’s…Tsumiki’s mom,” you said quietly at the realization.

Yes, you have heard a lot about her. However, to make the connection between the lady in the picture and the woman who owned currently Naoya’s (and previously Toji’s) devotion stirred awake a thousand emotions.

Anger. Bitterness. Resentment.

Megumi had told you plenty about her before.

‘Treated me like a bag of shit, spent all my dad’s money on her shopping sprees every weekend, and even neglected her own daughter—my stepsister.’

Her pretty face could only go so far in disguising her dark heart.

With this understanding, you finally grasped Toji’s bitterness when he first met you. How fickle fate had been to him. Comical, even! For his younger cousin to take his succession rights to the clan, his executive position in the company, and—to top everything off—his wife from his family. Only for you (of all eight billion people in the world) to show up at Toji Fushiguro’s office asking for sex therapy?

Now, you comprehended why Toji and Naoya despised each other.

In addition, you understood why Toji and his colleagues had been suspicious of you. Trust takes time to build yet a moment to shatter, and all of them have had this trust broken before. By Naoya, yes.

But also, by her.

“What’s her name?” you had to ask, ignoring the searing ache in your heart.

Your therapist, on the other hand, tried to play off his vexation by shoving his hands into his front pockets.

“Mari,” and also, “She still uses my last name.”

Wow.

The audacity that some people in the world have.

“Here let me help.”

“Hm?”

At first, you did not quite get what Toji was referring to until he started tearing the magazine photos and newspaper stories.

Wordlessly, you gawked at him, both in confusion and astonishment.

“Why—”

Before you could complete the thought, Toji had placed everything into a neat stack and thrust the pile into your hands. “There,” he said with finality. “If you are to file for a divorce, take these to Naoya. See what the bastard has to say. Staying with him any longer would be a fatal flaw.”

Toji had never seen a single interaction between you and his cousin in person, yet he could confidently say your husband was the hamartia in your life. Perhaps the signs had always been obvious. Or perhaps, his recent experience in a toxic marriage allowed Toji to notice the red flags in yours from miles away.

“If you give him too much time, he’ll come up with his offenses,” he went on. “We don’t need to outfight him, though. We simply need to outthink him.”

Something about Toji’s emerald eyes gleamed in a way you had not seen before.

It was a different side to him, one where he planned and strategized, a flickering core of the businessman he used to be.

“Hi.”

You and Toji froze at the sound.

Megumi’s voice had startled you two as the boy peered in from the hallway, waving a phone in his hand—your phone. “Sorry to interrupt but, uh, he called again.”

Interestingly enough, Megumi did not need to explicitly mention a name for you all to know who he referred to. As your screen flickered on, you noticed the numerous missed calls and text messages that had flooded your notifications, all from one particular culprit, no doubt.

Instead of embarrassment, your body surged with aggravation at how your husband suddenly seemed desperate to know your whereabouts.

So now he cared, huh?

Before you could retrace your steps towards the door, however, Toji had already done so. He retrieved the device from his son’s hands and started dialing a number from your phone.

You tried to stop him. “Hey, what are you—”

But Toji dismissed you, pressing your phone to his ear as the call began to ring, and his lips curled into a wicked grin when the other line must have picked up.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I am excited to show the interaction between Toji and Naoya—I have been thinking about their conversation for a long time! This chapter is less of a whirlwind and more of a setup for the rest to come. Thank you for your support!

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bts-hyperfixation · 19 days

Text

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 37 of????

2198 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"Honeys I'm home" Taehyung calls through the door.

His cheery tone is the complete opposite of what you expect to hear from him given his news. Actually you hadn't expected to hear his voice again today at all. You'd all been going through your nightly routines, preparing for bed in separate areas of the annex, but Taehyung's voice attracts you all to the main room like a magnet.

Jimin reaches him first, delighted when Taehyung swept him into his arms, dipping him before kissing him sweetly. The red panda giggles and all tension that had been held in the house recently dissipates, except for yours. You can't help but be suspicious of his sudden turn in mood, especially after how he had practically thrown you out of his family's estate this morning.

"We need to have a family meeting," He announces to the room.

"Right now? It's late can't it wait..." Yoongi grumbles, leaning on Hoseok as he yawns.

"Absolutely, it has to be right now!" Taehyung affirms cheerily.

The members of your pack grumble a little in their tired state, but shuffle into the main living area, flopping into a pile on the extra-large sofa. Jungkook pulls you down to lie on top of him, wrapping his arms protectively around your waist, Jimin's head falls into your lap and stretches his legs along the other three men.

Taehyung sits on the coffee table, his leg bouncing with anxiety as he looks over each member of the pack.

"There is no easy way for me to explain why I haven't been coming home as often as we all would like," He begins, the cheerful attitude he had come in with dissipating with one deep breath.

Jimin reaches a hand out to pat Taehyung's knee, connecting him to the rest of your pile. The panda tenses under the touch that would normally erase any trepidation from him.

"You're all aware that I need to help with my family's businesses more at this time of year, what you are not aware of is the amount of control my family has over me. They control my social calendar, my finances, and as of late my love life..."

He pauses to take in the variety of expressions he is faced with. Confusion and upset marr most of your packs' faces. You on the other hand are nervously chewing at your lip, waiting for him to reach the gut-punching conclusion. You were certain that Taehyung wouldn't come home this quickly, and the fact that he had must've meant he was going to go along with his father's plan... But then why would he have come in so happy?

Either way, your stomach was twisting itself in knots.

"A few weeks ago my parents made me aware that they had given away my hand in marriage to a business partner's daughter,"

This news has all the pack members sitting at attention. Jimin wrenches his head out of your lap to sit up straight as the others lean towards Taehyung. You almost topple from Jungkook's lap with the speed at which he straightens. The entire room begins to reek of negative pheromones.

"You can't be serious," Yoongi growls.

"That should be illegal in this day and age," Hoseok exclaims.

"It is!" Namjoon says jaw clenched.

"Forced arranged marriages are illegal, and while technically under duress, I would not have been forced to marry her... If I had any plans of going ahead with it that is."

"You seemed pretty set to go ahead with it this morning," You grumble.

"You knew?!" Jungkook and Jimin, shout together.

This time, you do fall from Jungkook's lap, Taehyung barely reaching to stabilise you as you almost hit the floor.

"How come you didn't say anything?" Jimin pouts.

"It wasn't her job to tell us," Seokjin says calmly, turning everyone's attention back to Taehyung.

"My parents threatened to take away my inheritance if I didn't agree, so at the time I agreed," Taehyung continues.

He goes through the motions of explaining everything he had already explained to you that morning. His story is occasionally interrupted with dramatic cries of unfair treatment. By the time he has finished telling them what you already knew, they were all reacting the same way you had. They each assure him that the money isn't important, and that everyone in the pack can help to support him.

Taehyung shuts them down the same way he had you. He insists that he has money to care for each of them, no matter how many times they tell him how much he is worth to them. You stay quiet watching each of them try and fail to come up with a solution to Taehyung's predicament that would mean he got to keep everything he wanted. And you watch as each of their faces fall, coming to the same empty conclusions you did.

That's when you look at Tae to find him already looking at you. And he is grinning.

"What?" You ask, louder than planned.

Everyone turns to look at the two of you.

"I Love you," He grins.

"This hardly seems like the time for that..." you blush.

"Do you love me?" He asks, taking your hand in his.

"Of course I do..."

"Will you marry me?"

"SORRY?" You pull your hand back as if he stung you.

Everyone is staring at him like he has grown a second head.

"Is your plan to elope with Y/N so you can't marry this other girl?" Namjoon asks, "Because you realise that doesn't solve the inheritance issue..."

"And you could've asked any of us..." Jimin mumbles.

"My plan is to marry Y/N L/N, the most eligible girl in my family's social circle. The one girl my father agreed I could marry instead of my current fiance!" His smile is so wide it's clear he is proud of himself for that one.

Everyone begins to chatter but you can't hear the specifics. Blood has rushed to your ears and all you can hear is the pounding of your own heart as it echoes too loud. You take deep breaths but your lungs feel like they can never expand fully. Your vision begins to swim, unable to maintain a point of focus.

The conversation around you continues as your partners fail to see that you are drowning on dry land. You dig your nails into the sofa desperately trying to cling to the fabric, to feel the tangible fibres below you.

"Y/N?" someone's voice breaks through, but it sounds too far away.

"Y/N!" another voice sounds more concerned... or maybe it's the same voice...

Have they always sounded so similar?..

_________________

Seokjin ponders Taehyung's predicament seriously for a while. The others chat excitedly about the prospect of a wedding. It hardly seems to be a solution though. Jin understands the importance to many about having your own source of income, and it's clear that Taehyung can't wrap his head around the pack wanting to take care of him for just being him. If money and care have always come with a billion rules, it makes sense why he would rather have those rules set by the familiar base of his family than by his partners. But surely there must be more compromises for his family than this.

He is reasonably deep in his analysis of Taehyung when he glances in your direction. He thought you'd been involved in the conversation going on around him, but it would seem not. You're looking around feverously, your knuckles are white with effort and there is a small cut here your teeth have worked through your lower lip.

"Y/N?" He calls out reaching for you.

You don't move as he touches you. You barely seemed to register his presence at all.

"Y/N!" Namjoon calls out.

The leader turns just in time for you to tumble back off the sofa's edge.

You hit the floor with a dull thud making each of the men around you cringe. Seokjin shoos the others out of his way as he kneels beside you. He waves his hand in front of your eyes as you stare aimlessly up at the ceiling, struggling to focus. He encourages the youngest members to gather things to make you comfortable while telling the other three men to give him some air so he can check you aren't hurt without them breathing down his neck.

Taehyung holds out a pillow for him and Jin carefully tucks it under your head. Yoongi then pulls Taehyung into him, partly to keep him out of the way, partly to comfort the panda as his scent becomes the most sour in the room.

Jungkook comes back with a selection of blankets and plushies he knows are your favourites. Jin allows the bunny to tuck them gently around your body, careful not to jostle you too much.

At this point, Jin is certain you aren't hurt, at least not more than a bruised coxix. But he wants to maintain the bubble of space he has created around you until you come back around.

Jimin hands him ice wrapped in a tea towel and joins the others on the sofa, watching anxiously while they wait for you to wake up.

Until you come back around they can't know for certain what caused you to pass out, but Jin has a good guess, and it would seem the others might too.

"Did make her do that?" Taehyung asks in a small voice...

"Of course, you didn't make her do that," Jin reassures "Anxiety attacks can be triggered by anything and nothing. This is not your fault Taehyung-ah"

Taehyung doesn't seem particularly appeased by the doctor's answer but it's the best he is going to get for now at least.

"She should be coming around by now right?" Jungkook asks "I normally come around by now,"

"Every panic attack is different, but judging by the scowl on her lips I'd say any moment now."

_________

You slowly start to feel the world around you again, starting with a cooling sensation on your forehead. Jin's concerned face swims into view and you suddenly become very aware of the ache in your hip from where you must've hit the floor.

"Next time I'm going to need you to hold on to me tighter," You grumble, finding Jungkook on the edge of the sofa.

You attempt to prop yourself up only for Jin to push you firmly back onto the floor.

"Stay there for a minute, if you get up too fast the world will swim and you'll end up back there anyway," The doctor says matter of factly.

You begrudgingly lie flat again, knowing he is right.

"What happened?" Namjoon asks.

"Not sure... Never happened before," you answer.

While it's mostly true (you have never had a panic attack like that) you are fairly sure you knew what might've caused it... but it was far too late in the day to be psychoanalysing what was behind it.

"Can we just go to bed? Maybe finish this conversation in the morning?" You ask, suddenly overwhelmed by how tired you feel.

"I don't really want you getting up yet," Jin says "But you also can't fall asleep there."

The thought of staying awake for even another second has you involuntarily whining.

"That's okay, I can fix that," Namjoon says.

Before anyone can object, the leader has you lifted into his arms, cradling you against his chest. He carries you into the first of the two annexe bedrooms, followed by a very eager bunny and red panda. The door is closed behind the four of you. Annoyed grumbles can be heard behind the closed wood, followed by instructions of care from Jin before the others can be heard shuffling away presumably into the second bedroom.

Namjoon lays you out on the bed and you snuggle into the pillows as bodies fall on either side of you. The caramel scent of Jungkook engulfs you as the rabbit tucks you in beneath his chin, wrapping his arms as tightly around you as he comfortably can obviously taking your earlier comment to heart.

A small hand lands on your waist that can only belong to Jimin as he reaches over Jungkook's large frame to reach a part of you.

Namjoon scoots in behind you on the oversized bed, His large frame easily caging you in the middle while one of his arms reaches across to cover his other two packmates.

"We really need to hurry up and get a bed that fits all eight of us," Jungkook notes.

"It's waiting for us in the main house Kookie, just a couple more weeks," Namjoon reassures him.

"I don't want to wait that long," Jungkook whines.

"You realise even with a bigger bed you won't be able to sleep next to each person right?" Jimin teases.

"I'll find a way," Kookie responds defiantly.

More lazy conversation goes on around you but you're too tired to partake in it. Instead, you let the deep sounds and vibrations of their chests lull you into a deep sleep.

You try hard not to focus on the new feeling tightening around your chest telling you to run.

Masterlist

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transparentladyturtle · 17 days

Text

Okay so my friend and I decided to do something crazy and write a book together. It's a fanfic, F1 of course. You'll need a bit of context to understand this, so here's a bit of it!:

But before that, some points!

• We know nothing about adoptions, so please bear with whatever info we've given. Sorry if it's not close to what actually happens, but it is what it is😭

•We love Nico, and feel really bad for doing this to him, but yeah he's kind of a grey character here. Sorry Nico!😭

Now the actual parts:

• Lewis is Max's adoptive dad and has raised him with his ex-husband. Now for the timeline, we haven't set any specific year, but at the time, Lewis is around 39 and Max is 18. He adopted Max with his husband when he was around half a year old, and has been his parent ever since. Max still uses the last name Verstappen to retain and represent his country and heritage.

• Seb is 37 and Charles is 18 too. He adopted Charles, who was his sister's son with his then boyfriend. Charles was 4 at the time and had recently lost his mother, so Seb took him in. But he prefers to call Seb Dad.

• Seb and Lewis have been in the sport for a long time now. They still have the same number of championships. Max and Charles are rookies debuting together, but have always competed in karting and are the closest things to mortal enemies, despite their parents being best of friends.

And that's it I think?

#formula one #f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #im dead #lestappen #ferrari #my roman empire #lewis hamilton #sebastian vettel #sewis

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skyward-floored · 4 months

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Here’s a list I made today of all my Incredibles au fics put in chronological order so it’s slightly easier to figure out what the heck is going on at any given moment!

Fics with numbers at the beginning are chapters from What does anyone in this family know about “normal?!” (which is a oneshot collection), and bolder fics are separate multichaps. You can also find the ao3 collection with all of these fics here.

...

52. Warriors gets his nickname

1. Time, Sky, and Warriors bonding

Lost Time

51. Warriors catches up

34. Sky gets sick

37. Warriors and Artemis fight a villain

4. Malon’s powers

16. The first time Twilight turned into a wolf

55: Sky and Warriors explain

24. Time and Twilight play a song

48. Twilight kisses it better (and chases his tail)

20. The first time Legend turned invisible

50. Twilight doesn’t look both ways

18. Legend has a tantrum

31. Legend tries to fly

43. The first time Wind caused a breeze

Let us catch you

14. Wild finds himself very lost

28. Wind’s announcement

41. Wild has a nightmare

38. Legend gets his hair done

32. Baby Four

15. Wind testing out his powers

33. Wild and Legend argue

49. Legend gets a splinter

53. Hyrule makes some plans

2. Hyrule backstory

Let us find you

30. Hyrule’s scars

7. Hyrule adjusting

46. Hyrule breaks a cup

47. Twilight reads a story

29. Aryll

5. Wolfie, Bunny Legend, and Hyrule shenanigans

11. Roadtrip

12. Oddities of Four

13. Wind and Warriors cause some chaos

35. Four and Sky make a house

23. Sky and Wind go for a fly

26. Talon and the grandkids

36. Four has some mood swings

8. Runaway

17. Wind quietly saves a civilian

6. Wolfie shenanigans

58. Warriors pushes himself too far

3. Movie night

27. Despair over Sky

9. Memories of Sky

[Movie events here]

59. Sky survives

Plane and simple

44. Split Four

10. Ravio & Legend

39. Marin

54. Time stops a theft

40. Spirit

56: Four stays split a little too long

42. No capes!

25. Warriors loses control

57. Legend sneaks out

22. Forced to fight Twilight

45. Blades of the Yiga

19. Future Wild

21. Wild loses an arm

#I’ll try and keep this updated #it might not work but I’ll try XD #Incredibles au #rambles from the floor #linkeduniverse #linked universe #reading them all in order made me realize there’s so many scenes I still want to write...#ah well they’ll come when they come #can’t wait to share more :)

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jays-therapist · 6 months

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I don't know if this a hot take or not but I really disagree with the idea that Yukio is jealous of Rin's power and physical strength? Rather, I think it's Rin's emotional strength that Yukio envies.

I have a lot to say about this lmao, so I'm just gonna put it all under the cut that way people who don't want to read this long ass analysis don't have to. Also, manga spoilers.

Blue Exorcist is a fun shonen manga because it measures strength outside of just "how hard can i punch this dude." Often, when characters talk about getting strong, they're talking about wanting to be mentally resilient; they want the ability to persevere, to be independent and face their fears/emotional turmoil on their own. Shiemi is a good example of this, I think. She constantly talks about being strong, but usually in the context of naviagting the world after living so long in isolation, and struggling to support her friends. Yes, she wants to get physically stronger, but at the core, she just genuinely wants to have a strong spirit (like a weed), and to be emotionally strong enough to help carry her friends' burdens.

Now, back to Yukio.

The biggest reoccuring theme in Yukio's jealousy is how he puts his brother on a pedestal, while constantly downplaying every good thing about himself (they both do this lol). You'll see this a lot in the examples I bring up.

There are four scenes I really want to focus on when discussing just how Yukio defines strength: his flashback in Chapter 29, his inner monologue in Chapter 37, his suicide attempt in Chapter 93, and That Time He Shot Rin in the Head in Chapter 96.

In Chapter 29, Yukio has this five-page montage of flashbacks, depicting specific moments where he felt both admiration and envy for Rin. And each of these moments highlight Rin's empathy, his care-free behavior, his kindness, his ability to inspire others, his desire to protect his little brother. Not his habit of setting things on fire.

This is important because Yukio fundamentally believes that he is not a good person. He believes he is not kind, selfless, or brave. When he, as a child, cries because he can't adopt a puppy he wanted, he's envious that Rin is just happy to see the puppy in a nice home. When his brother rushes to save him from bullies, Yukio's upset that he couldn't do it on his own, that his brother feels he is so weak he can't even take care of himself.

From Yukio's perspective, these are examples of Rin either outshining him inherently or looking down on him. No matter how strong Yukio gets, he will never not be able to feel bad for himself when the puppy is given to a different family. He will never be able to prove to his brother that he can do things on his own. He was born with this weakness and he can't seem to kill it. He can't win, and he hates it.

In Chapter 37, after defeating the Kraken, Yukio and Rin have a little heart-to-heart. Here, we see Yukio's true feelings towards Rin's claims of "surpassing him", which is that Rin already does. Yukio feels that if anyone needs to surpass anyone, it's him. He will always come up short where it counts, whenever he needs to let things go or be more empathetic. Yukio is strong of body, but weak of spirit.

So, with this in mind, when Yukio falls to his knees in Chapter 93 and says, "I was weak, and I couldn't get any stronger," he doesn't mean, "damn. wish i could've harnessed the demon power in my eyes to blow shit up." No, he's admitting defeat. He tried so hard to be strong, both physically and mentally but especially mentally, and he failed. He couldn't carry burdens like his father and brother could, like his friends could. He was cruel and cowardly. He hurt people he loved, and as long as he continues to live, he will keep hurting the people he loves.

What is strength to Yukio? It's resilience. It's taking risks. It's independence. It's Rin.

(Or at least, how Yukio sees Rin. As I've said before, he likes to put Rin on a pedestal.)

In contrast, weakness is cowering. It's waiting for someone else to solve the problem. It's hurting good people who haven't faulted you. It's Yukio.

That leads us to Chapter 96, and this---

This is kind of the crux of it all. Yukio is suffocating on his own perceived weakness and seeking to escape it. Here, Yukio is burning every bridge (the fact that this is literally taking place on a bridge is pretty ironic) that could possibly allow him to return to the Order to ensure he does what he needs to do. To be strong, he needs to be independent. To be independent, he needs to be alone. He can't let his brother solve all of his problems anymore.

So, like. Yeah. In conclusion, I think Yukio is heavily inspired by his brother's strength of character, just as much as he feels abased by it, and that's why his ideas of strength steer closer to broader concepts like bravery and self-determination rather than "let's hit the gym and summon Satan." He uses physical strength as a mask to conceal his perceived emotional weakness.

#i hope this made sense lol #Idk i see a lot of posts saying that Yukio's jealous of Rin’s demon powers or whatever and i think that's dumb #it seems more like he wants to be his brother's equal (or even someone Rin looks up to) and he fails to realize that he already is #anyway. this post is long as fuck. I should start tagging these as something #al yells #blue exorcist #yukio okumura #haven't made a long post about Yukio in *checks watch* one day time to make another one

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butterflydm · 10 months

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wot reread: a memory of light (chapter 38-epilogue)

spoilers for a memory of light!

Well, the rest of the chapters have fewer pages in total than chapter 37 did, so this is going to be my last full reread post, though I do have a couple of follow-ups planned.

My timing ended up being pretty good, even though my original intention was just to reread books 1-3 in anticipation of the second season of the show. And now I’ve still got over a month to get good and excited about everything the show will be bringing to the table.

1. We go back to Rand, still deep in his conversation with TDO. The chapter “the Last Battle” really revolved around the battle between the forces outside Shayol Ghul, because it ended when the commander of the other army finally was killed (though there are still a ton of his forces to take care of, the head of the snake was cut off and so was the person who fancied himself Demandred’s replacement).

2. The ‘let go’ that Rand is hearing in his mind is in his father’s voice, and the meaning expands here -- let them sacrifice. it is their choice to make. And then Egwene’s voice -- am I not allowed to be a hero too?

Because this is something that Rand has been resisting over the course of the books -- basically ever since he accepted that he will be the sacrifice, he’s struggled with knowing that he’s not the only one, with knowing that other people are sometimes even sacrificing just to get him here, to this place. And, I imagine, with his tentative plans to maybe even survive this ‘sacrifice’, that’s going to make him feel even more guilty about other people giving up their lives in this fight.

3. He talks in dialogue with Egwene’s voice in his head (given that he’s existing around and between reality, it might really be Egwene’s voice too). He is not in charge of protecting her. He decided to take that charge on himself, back in EotW, but it was never his to claim. Let us die for what we believe, and do not try to steal that from us.

4. And so Rand takes himself through his list again, backwards, this time, releasing his feelings of shame for failing to save them, releasing his need to protect them. Letting go of the mountain that has been crushing him for the majority of the series.

He hadn’t realized how large it had become, how much he had let himself carry.

...

Ilyena was last. We are reborn, Rand thought, so we can do better the next time.

So do better.

5. And now Rand, as he stands surrounded by all time and nothing at the same time, comes to understand that the Darkness was never a being, never an entity of its own. It is the between of everything. It can only win if no one is willing to keep fighting against it.

6. Mat gets the news of Lan’s reported death. As he did with Egwene and with Elayne, he swallows the grief and doesn’t let it show to anyone else, instead using the news to spur the army onward to attack the now-stunned foe.

7. Rand tells TDO that he can’t win, and TDO argues that it has Rand in its grasp right now, and Rand says that that’s missing the point, because it was never just about his victory. The people he lists:

Morgase (?) - a woman, torn and beaten down, cast from her throne and made a puppet

Thom - a man who remembered stories and took fool boys under his wing

Moiraine - a woman who hunted truth before others could

Perrin (?) - a man whose family was taken from him, but who stood tall

Nynaeve - a woman who refused to believe she could not Heal those who had been harmed

Mat - a hero who insisted with every breath that he was not a hero

Egwene - a woman who would not bend her back while she was beaten and who stone with the Light for all who watched

Rand realizes -- “it was never about beating me. It was about breaking me.”

8. Okay, I have to say. I have to! But this is... this is literally also how the Seanchan work. This is their philosophy of life -- to take people and break them to the Seanchan’s purpose. As I’ve said before, there really is no way around the fact that the Seanchan are going to be the Great Evil of the Fourth Age. There are just too many Shadow-Seanchan parallels! Maybe Mat and Min can slow the train slightly but I don’t think they can actually put the breaks on it.

9. But back to now -- Rand and TDO watch the battlefield, where Mat is fighting -- Tam at his side, then Karede and his suicide-slave troops, then Loial and the Ogier. “Outnumbered three to one”. Mat is shouting in the Old Tongue: For the Light! For honor! For glory! For life itself!

I will take a moment to be glad that, despite the first half of this book trying so hard to align Mat with the slavers for whatever fucking reason, he’s not fighting for the slavers in this battle. That he actually did become the General of the Forces of the Light, not primarily the General of the Slavers. Looking back, it really does feel like the change was signaled when Mat first took off his Seanchan clothes and put back on his Two Rivers coat*. That seems to have been a visual cue about his change in characterization -- how he started pushing back more against Tuon, forcing her into more compromises, and standing more aligned with the Forces of Light rather than pandering to the slavers all the time. idk, maybe forcing Mat over to Ebou Dar at the start of the book was Sanderson’s way of trying to finally create a synthesis between the horrible Mat of CoT & KoD and the non-horrible Mat of the earlier books, and he felt like he actually had to take Seanchan!Mat to his worst conclusion before bringing him out again? It still really sucks that the Mat and Rand reunion happened during our low point of Mat’s characterization, though.

(* which appears to have been triggered by the ‘not pleasant’ conversation that Mat and Tuon had after Tuon berates him for not telling her that Egwene was briefly enslaved by the Seanchan. After that (off-screen) conversation, Mat starts being much more combative re: the Seanchan -- after that conversation is when he has his bitter/sarcastic thought that he’s not done much to convince Tuon to stop using damane and when he suggests to Min that she mislead Tuon about her viewings to try to soften her stance on Aes Sedai; so I think we can safely give Egwene credit for the turnaround in Mat’s characterization -- I wish that that conversation between Mat and Tuon hadn’t happened off-screen! like so many important emotional moments!, but it seems like perhaps that was a watershed moment for Mat)

Rand and TDO watch, and TDO taunts Rand “the son of battles. I will take him [Mat!]. I will take them all, adversary. As I took the king of nothing [this is Lan, I assume]”.

10. Mat thinks about how he knows he can win this battle, despite the horrible odds. He just needs “a favorable toss of the dice”.

And, not too far away, with the Trollocs outside his hiding place, Olver gives up on the idea of trying to get the Horn to Mat, and lifts the Horn of Valere to his lips.

11. First Mat, and then everyone else, hears Rand’s voice -- he calls out Shai’tan as wrong, telling everyone that Lan isn’t dead. And just after he says that, Mat hears the familiar golden and clear note of the Horn of Valere.

...wow, the Seanchan feel so superfluous to requirements right now. They didn’t show up until after the final combat was engaged, after Rand had his final necessary epiphany, after the Horn was blown (they have still not shown up, technically).

I’m going to take a moment to daydream about a world where Tuon’s nature as marath’damane was revealed and accepted, so she really did flee with the Seanchan (so that she can try to recover from this blow to her powerbase) and the Seanchan never returned to the Last Battle. This would be a much easier way to de-tangle Mat from the Seanchan than whatever he’s gonna need to actually do post-canon.

12. The Heroes of the Horn return and our first sight of them is Birgitte coming to save Elayne from Mellar, with a shining silver arrow. 😍

Birgitte standing over her own corpse kinda cracks me up. Good for her! It’s also probably the first time she’s felt like herself in books and books.

“That was the bloody Horn of Valere!” Mat announces to his troops. “We can still win this night!” Inside, he marvels over how the Horn was sounded without him, showing that one of the things that he’d believed that he was permanently tied to isn’t tied to him after all.

Well, if that knot can be untied, Mat, maybe another one can be as well.

13. Between losing Demandred and the appearance of the Heroes of the Horn, the Shadow are now the ones who are on the defensive, with some Trollocs breaking and trying to run away.

The mist of the Heroes forms near Mat and he feels a moment of worry, wondering if maybe someone on the side of the Shadow summoned them. Hawkwing rides up to Mat, and tells him, “Do take better care of what has been allotted you. Almost, I worried we would not be summoned for this fight.”

I know, right? The lack of urgency in the Mat-in-Ebou-Dar half of the book about actually getting him to Merrilor to blow the Horn was really frustrating to me too!

When Mat confirms that this mean they’re fighting for the Light, Hawkwing tells him, “We would never fight for the Shadow.” The rumors about the Horn are wrong -- I feel like we learned this back in TGH as well but, you know, Mat was dying at the time, so I don’t blame him for not remembering.

Yeah, here’s the line: “We have come to the Horn, but we must follow the banner. And the Dragon.” So it was Rand, Perrin, and Mat who learned that. But, like I said, I don’t blame Mat for not remembering.

14. Hawkwing and Amaresu both scold Mat for not showing Rand enough appreciation for saving his life. Honestly, so fair and legit for Mat to finally be on the other end of a scolding like that. “I have seen you murmur that you fear his madness but all the while you forget that every breath you breathe - every step you take - comes at his forbearance. Your life is a gift from the Dragon Reborn, Gambler. Twice over.”

Mat feels so scolded. As he deserves.

He’s told that they can fight here because they have Rand’s banner and because Rand is... technically sort-of kind-of leading them... from a distance.

Amazingly, Mat takes a moment out of this encounter to marvel at how pretty one of the heroes is and then Remind Himself again that he’s married. He really does have to keep Reminding Himself. One of these days, he’s not going to remember to Remind Himself until after he’s already slept with someone else. It’s been more subtle in this book than in ToM, but Mat is still constantly checking out Every Other Lady around him.

15. Olver gets dug out of his hole by Trollocs but Noal, now one of the Heroes, arrives to save him. I don’t care about Noal, and Jordan definitely didn’t do enough to build up their relationship in CoT & KoD, but I still got a little misty at the tiny orphan child feeling grateful that one of the people who ‘abandoned’ him has finally come back.

16. haha, this next chapter is called ‘wolfbrother’ so I guess that Perrin is finally gonna wake up. But first, we have Elayne!

She’s able to wriggle lose enough to make the medallion copy shift away from her skin and fall to the ground, and now she can embrace saidar again. Elayne apologizes to Birgitte but Birgitte laughs it off, “Why do you mourn, Elayne? I have it all back! My memory has returned. It is wonderful! I don’t know how you stood me these last few weeks. I moped worse than a child who’d just broken her favorite toy.” Ah, yeah, that confirms that Birgitte’s spiral into bitterness was not meant to be a reflection of Elayne but on the dark place that Birgitte was in, with her loss of memories, I think. But it’s a shame that it feels like parts of the fandom just took Birgitte’s unrelated bitterness as a reason to slam on Elayne more. My girl gets so much undeserved hate.

And Elayne and Birgitte will ride back into the battle together. Not as Aes Sedai and Warder, but as friends. 😍 😍 😍 😍

17. Aviendha! I’ve missed you! Her timeline isn’t advancing as quickly as it has been for those further away from Shayol Ghul, so not as much as happened here in the valley. She can feel the channeling inside the Pit of Doom - “a quiet pulse”. Oh! The wolfbrother of the chapter’s title is actually Elyas, who Aviendha runs across now. The Darkhound Wild Hunt is happening, and hundreds of wolves have come to fight back against them.

Aviendha is about to go fetch channelers to help bring down the Darkhounds, when she spies Graendal a bit higher on the slope, with some Turned channelers, and Aiel guards under compulsion. Aviendha alerts her companions (Amys & Cadsuane) and then begins the fight against Graendal.

18. Elayne has a sword again. Where is she getting these swords? I’m just gonna assume it’s made out of Air or something. More useful than the sword, Elayne creates a banner with the Power, the red lion of Andor, lighting up the night.

19. [Mat] remembered, within those memories that were not his, leading forces far grander. Armies that were not fragmented, half-trained, wounded and exhausted. But Light help him, he had never been so proud.

...

This was the moment he had been seeking. It was the card upon which to bet everything he had. Ten to one odds, still, but the Sharan army, the Trollocs and the Fades had no head. No general to guide them.

...

Elayne’s death had been a lie. Her troops had been in disarray - they had lost more than a third of their soldiers - but just as they were about to be routed by the Trollocs, she rode into their midst and rallied them.

20. Catching up with Moggy! Hi, Moghedien. I bet your Last Battle is going pretty shitty. She kicks Demandred’s abandoned corpse. Oh, his devoted Shendla just left his body there to rot? Yikes. For Moghedien, she discovers that now that so many of the Chosen have been killed off, TDO is ready to let her have a taste of that sweet sweet True Power.

She disguises herself as Demandred and heads to the Sharan forces. I have to admit, given how open Min has been about her Talents, it’s kinda astonishing that Moghedien doesn’t know about her viewings. Min will tell anyone who stands still for five seconds, plus Tuon announced her as a Doomseer and has been plumping her up for the past whatever-number of chapters.

Moghedien starts to gear up for her role as Fake Demandred...

...and then she gets a blast of cannon/dragon-fire in her face from the Band’s part of Mat’s plan.

21. Instead of the Band leaving their caves to fight; channelers are opening them up brief windows to shoot through. Aludra is placed up on a high location with a spy-glass, giving orders to the channelers for the next locations for the booms. Honestly very clever.

22. As Aviendha fights in the valley, plants grow to cover her passage.

They had come right when she had needed them to hide her approach. Happenstance? She chose to believe otherwise. She could feel [Rand], in the back of her mind. He fought, a true warrior. His battle lent her strength, and she tried to return the same.

Determination. Honor. Glory. Fight on, shade of my heart. Fight on.

😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍

23. Aviendha kills a Compelled attacker, only realizing it’s Rhuarc after she has struck the fatal blow. She kills him moments before he would have killed her, and only her shoulder gets injured.

She does her best to convince herself that she only killed a shell. That Rhuarc was already dead.

There is a burst of determination from Rand (Strength, Aviendha) and her fatigue leaves her, and she refocuses on the fight.

24. Aviendha studies Graendal and decides on her approach -- she creates a spear made out of fire and light, and some other weaves in reserve -- and charges for Graendal. See, this makes a lot more sense that Elayne randomly having a sword, because this is a weapon and Aviendha knows and has trained in most of her life. I think that Sanderson Just Likes Swords tbh.

I really love the description here because of how it brings back Aviendha’s Maiden roots as she launches her attack on Graendal. The ground explodes underneath her (her legs get pretty destroyed, it sounds like), but she’s leaping up already aimed like a spear herself, and she sinks the spear into Graendal’s side just as Graendal is using the True Power to Travel... and because they’re touching, she goes along with Graendal when she Travels.

25. Mat rides with the Heroes of the Horn. He gets them to confirm that he isn’t one of them. He can see Elayne from where he is.

Mat saw Elayne’s banner glowing above them in the sky, crafted of the One Power, and caught a glimpse of someone who looked like her riding among the soldiers, hair glowing as if lit from behind her. She seemed a bloody Hero of the Horn herself.

26. And then the great battle is over, at least here on the battlefield.

He would have to thank Tuon for returning. He did not go looking for her, though. He had a feeling she would expect him to perform his princely duties, whatever they might be.

Hmm.

27. He does feel that tugging. Rand needs him. He tries to convince himself that this was his part, out here, and whatever is going on where Rand is... that’s Rand’s business. The dice are still tumbling in his head. This part here manages to capture Mat’s double-think in a way that I didn’t feel like came across in the actual chapter when we had the Rand & Mat reunion.

After trying to talk himself out of it, Mat ends up saying that he’s a fool because “I need to go to Rand.”

As a parting note, he asks Hawkwing to go have a conversation with “their Empress” (Tuon), and hmm, interesting. Okay, I need to break this down a bit.

So, one of the things that gave Tuon the big jollies back in the negotiation chapter with Rand was Mat referring to the Seanchan forces as “our forces”, which she basically interpreted as “haha you’re mine now, no take-backs”. And here, he does not call the Seanchan empress “my” Empress. He says she’s “their” Empress. The Empress of the Seanchan, who he is not currently identifying with, it would seem. So. That’s interesting.

We don’t get to see the conversation between Hawkwing and Tuon, of course, but what would Mat assume about what Hawkwing would tell Tuon? Why would Mat send Hawkwing to talk to her? The Heroes of the Horn follow Rand, pretty explicitly. They literally just recently scolded Mat for not appreciating Rand enough. They are aware of current events in the world and of the Seanchan Empire.

Which is to say... of course, Mat is assuming that Hawkwing will try to set Tuon straight on how to be an Empress without abusing millions of people under her power. Hawkwing told him that they would never fight for the Shadow. I think it’s reasonable for Mat to assume that he would disapprove of slavery. And Hawkwing’s hatred of Aes Sedai in his lifetime was canonically influenced by Ishamael, if I recall correctly, so the idea that Ishamael’s corruption is still influencing him in his Horn-form just seems like kinda silly to me. So. That’s my stance on that. Mat has clearly stated in recent chapters that he disapproves of the damane system, in particular, and that he wants to influence Tuon to soften her stance on Aes Sedai. So we know what Mat’s motivations are in sending Hawkwing off to talk to her. And it kinda fits Mat’s pattern of trying to use other people to influence Tuon to be less awful.

28. Rand has thought about Mat often, here in the battle with TDO. He thinks of him again -- Beneath them, on the battlefield, the Trollocs had fallen, beaten by a young gambler from the Two Rivers.

29. Oh, hey, Perrin just woke up. Page 853. He went to sleep on page 670. Nice long nap. Missed... a lot of stuff.

He learns that the battle at Merrilor has been won, but the battle at Thakan’dar, outside of Shayol Ghul, rages on. He gets his exhaustion washed away by one of the Aes Sedai and goes physically back into TAR (where he left Gaul to guard the cave where Rand fights).

30. In the waking world, Thom is the one guarding that cave entrance and he ponders the various ways that the ending of the world can be turned into a song, once this is all over.

31. Mat goes to Grady and tells him that he needs to be taken to Shayol Ghul. He’s brought Rand’s banner with him. Hanging out with Grady are Olver and Noal. The dice are still tumbling in Mat’s head. As far as I can tell, they haven’t stopped since Elayne asked him if he knew what he was doing.

Mat, on thinking about Noal/Jain becoming a Hero of the Horn:

Well, you wouldn’t find Mat trading places with him. Noal might enjoy it, but Mat wouldn’t dance at another man’s command. Not for immortality itself, no he wouldn’t.

Another data point that I’m placing into the pile.

Grady says that Traveling is wonky in that direction. Can’t be done.

Mat won’t accept that as an answer, and he gets Grady to take him (and Olver) as close as they can get -- a Seanchan scouting camp, a day away.

32. lol, we get a tiny glimpse into Fain the mist god-demon here. This just feels so anti-climatic, to still have Fain around at a time like this. Anyway, he’s basically a walking Shadar Logoth at this point. Fain kinda suffers from the same issues as Slayer, in that it feels like he’s a villain that the story grew past and yet he hung around anyway.

33. Gaul has been standing alone against Slayer all this time in TAR, fighting against him and protecting Rand, on his own, while Perrin was taking his restorative nap. But now Perrin is back to help. On the plus side, because of the time dilation stuff, only two hours has passed for Gaul in here.

34. Since he couldn’t take a gateway to Shayol Ghul, Mat is going by dragon to’raken. And, yes, Mat takes time out of his terror at being up so high to notice how pretty the morat’to’raken is, even as he thinks that anyone willing to do this must be “completely insane”. Olver, who is riding with them, is having a great time, though.

From up high, Mat sees a mist covering the valley below and gets a tingling that tells him... it’s about Fain and the dagger.

35. Then their to’raken gets hit by arrows, killing the rider or knocking her out. Mat undoes his straps and climbs over to take the to’raken’s reins. So he’s... he’s riding the closest thing that this world has to a dragon. Subtext, fun for the whole family.

He does his best to give them a gentle landing. It is not terribly gentle.

36. In the aftermath of the crash, Mat thinks that kidnapping Tuon (aka marrying her) is the worst decision that he’s ever made. Hmm. And this is after she ‘returned’ to the battlefield per their plan.

“That,” [Mat] finally groaned, “is the worst bloody idea I’ve ever had.” He hesitated. “Maybe the second worst.” He had decided to kidnap Tuon, after all.

And he doesn’t undercut that thought with any kind of caveat. He just lets it stand as he moves on to the next thing. Another interesting data point.

37. Mat literally panics when he realizes that Rand’s banner has gone missing during their dragon to’raken flight. Why does it seem like Sanderson is so much better at writing Cauthor-related scenes when Mat and Rand are separated from each other?

Olver points out that the swirling clouds above them are forming Rand’s sign, and then he blows the Horn again, for good measure.

38. Rand breaks out of his frozen battle with TDO and re-enters his own body. “From his watching of the Pattern, he knew that although only minutes had passed here since he’d entered, in the valley outside this cavern, days had passed, and farther out into the world, it had been much longer.”

He points Callandor at Moridin, and Moridin promptly throws a knife at Alanna.

Broke back to consciousness by Nynaeve’s herbs, Alanna pulls herself together long enough to release the bond she forced on Rand before she dies.

...I kinda feel the need to point out that Moiraine has done nothing but be a battery for Rand since she entered the cave with him.

I also feel bad for Alanna, who really disappeared from the story once Min was bonded to Rand and could take over as Cadsuane’s Rand mood-ring, and now is only here so that she can die. I have extremely large beef against Alanna for forcibly bonding Rand but it feels like the story really should have used that beat even more than it did, rather than it disappearing after WH.

39. Perrin kills Slayer. Finally. And then he pulls back out of TAR and is “on the rocks in the valley of Thakan’dar”, near where the Aiel are gathered.

40. Mat leaves Olver with the Heroes and meets up with Perrin at the mouth of the cave. So, yes, Mat and Perrin get another reunion. Why does Perrin! Get all the reunions! This is what I was talking about when I said how annoyed I was that Mat thinking about Rand tugging on him wouldn’t end up with any good payoff. All we get is yet another Mat and Perrin reunion.

That Rand is literally inside that cave and yet the three ta’veren do not reunite here is honestly somewhat infuriating for me. Genuinely those two things: the Emond’s Five reunite and the ta’veren three reunite should have been at the TOP of Sanderson’s priority list! There is a lot that I have enjoyed about AMoL but there are just way too many important emotional moments that were either skipped or didn’t happen at all but should have happened.

And, fuck, letting Mat and Rand have a scene that doesn’t take place during Mat’s weird Ebou Dar adventure. That would have been nice! Once Mat decides that he’s not going to be a lapdog for the Seanchan/Tuon anymore, his storyline and his PoV get so much better and so much more enjoyable and I am just... eternal bitterness that our only Mat & Rand reunion was plopped into our most lapdoggy-Mat era.

Mat came here specifically to protect Rand and then he never sees him! That is just fucking awful. They deserved a better reunion. What was the point of having the Heroes scold Mat if we didn’t actually get to see Mat and Rand interact again after it? This is kinda a place where the epilogue is mostly at fault -- Mat just strolling off to plan a fireworks show for Tuon post-Last Battle conflicts pretty hard with him spending time with his dying best friend, tonally-speaking -- but that really just makes it all the more frustrating that the only Cauthor reunion took place when Mat was in his worst Seanchan-era.

41. Aviendha attacks Graendal with an exploding gateway; and Mat kills Fain/Mordeth/etc.

And Perrin almost takes off to go searching for Faile but manages to resist the urge: If Rand died, then he would lose Faile. And everything else.

Yes. I have tried to yell this at the fictional characters so many times: if the world dies, then so does your sweetheart! It’s nice that Perrin finally listened.

42. And for his final trick, Moridin grabs Callandor, and Moiraine and Nynaeve spring their trap, using the flaw in Callandor to take control of the ‘circle’ that Moridin has accidentally formed with them. With Moridin having pulled the True Power, Rand is now able to enter the link, and Moiraine and Nynaeve can feed him all three sets of Power: saidar, saidin, and the True Power. Light explodes from him, and from Shayol Ghul, as Rand uses the True Power to protect himself as he reaches through the Bore and grabs onto the Dark One.

43. We get a quick beat of people reacting to the light:

Elayne is on the battlefield of Merrilor, as they search for the living among the dead. She feels the “swelling of power in Rand” and her attention focuses on him.

Thom shields his eyes as the light bursts from the entrance to the Pit of Doom.

Min appears to have managed to get away from the Seanchan for now, changing linens for the wounded, perhaps also on the Field of Merrilor.

Aviendha is drawn back from the darkness of near-death by the light and the warmth of Rand inside her, and realizes that her explosion twisted the compulsion weave so that Graendal compelled herself to worship Aviendha. Awkward!

Logain sees the light and knows that it’s what was meant by the message that Egwene sent, and he breaks the seals on the Dark One’s prison.

44. In TAR, Perrin runs across Lanfear. Together, they walk into Shayol Ghul, and we learn that she apparently compelled Perrin a little while ago? He’s able to pull out of it by reminding himself of his duty and of Faile, and he snaps her neck, killing her.

*squints at the scene*

Yeah, I mean. That’s certainly still what looks like happened? Sorry, Sanderson, I’m not seeing your hints here about Lanfear tricking Perrin and surviving.

45. Rand holds the Dark One in his hand. Or the representation of his hand. And, once again, when Rand tells TDO how pitiful he is, all I see are echoes of the Seanchan:

You would have enslaved me as you would have enslaved the others. You cannot give oblivion. Rest is not yours. Only torment.

Rand can feel himself dying, his life blood slipping away. Realizing that the world that he’d seen without the Dark One would have been the truth, he knows that he cannot kill it. So he thrusts TDO back into his prison, braids saidar and saidin together to reforge a new shield onto the Bore.

With this new form of the Power, Rand pulled together the rent that had been made here long ago by foolish men.

He understood, finally, that the Dark One was not the enemy.

It never had been.

(because it only reflected the evil that people were already capable of)

46. The black hole inside the cave expands, as Moiraine and Nynaeve run for the safety of the cave entrance.

47. And now we are at the epilogue.

Much like I did with The Last Battle chapter, I’ll take the epilogue in sections by character. Rand & co will go last, this time.

Perrin

The spirits of the dead wolves fade back into the dream. Perrin voluntarily worries about Rand? Wow, that feels kinda out of character for Perrin, who has always been way better at pushing away thoughts of Rand than Mat has been, but I guess let’s go with it. It seems to exist to tell us that Perrin no longer sees color swirls and no longer feels any tugging towards anything. “Those seemed like very bad signs.”

“Have you sent for the three?”

What a weird way to ask “do Rand’s girlfriends know that he’s dying?”

I’m going to take a minute and count up the PoV & page counts everyone gets in the epilogue.

Rand: 3 PoVs (4 pages total)

Mat: 2 PoVs (1 1/5 pages)

Perrin: 3 PoVs (6 1/5 pages)

Loial: 1 PoV (3 pages)

Moghedien: 1 PoV (1 page)

Nynaeve: 1 PoV (2 pages)

Birgitte: 1 PoV (1 page)

Tam: 1 PoV (1 page)

Min: 1 PoV (1/2 page)

Cadsuane: 1 PoV (1 page)

That’s a lot of Perrin, comparatively-speaking.

Anyway, Perrin finds Faile, happy ending, etc.

...oh, I just looked it up and Sanderson answered some questions about the epilogue (tor[dot]com/2013/01/23/brandon-sandersons-wheel-of-time-answers-from-torchat/)! He added Perrin’s and Loial’s scene(s). Ha! I knew that Loial was a Sanderson addition because he uses “Matrim” instead of Mat (that is, imo, by far the easiest ‘tell’ of a Sanderson scene -- someone using ‘Matrim’ when they normally wouldn’t). And the Perrin scenes make sense too because it really builds off of and finishes the narrative thread that was at play earlier in the book for Perrin, which was presumably all written by Sanderson.

Mat

Mat strolls away from the aftermath of having killed Padan Fain, calling the dagger “a gamble I don’t want to touch”. The dice stop rolling in Mat’s head after he decides not to pick up the dagger. Hmm. Mat avoiding becoming the new Fain for the Fourth Age?

After that, we skip to his scene with Tuon. And there are only those two scenes with Mat in the epilogue -- killing Fain and finding out that he’s been baby-trapped into the Seanchan Empire. Though Perrin confirms in his own PoV scenes that he no longer gets the swirls or the tugging, we don’t get the same kind of confirmation in Mat’s (very short) scenes.

I will say that there is more subtlety in Mat’s ending here than I had remembered -- I was extremely unhappy about his ending but this marriage is pretty troubled already in the text, and so it’s not really the book that tries to pretend this is a happy “babies ever after” ending for Mat; I feel like that’s maybe more of a vibe that I got from fans at the time, rather than from the text. There are a lot of “male power fantasy” fans who just really like that Mat ends up married to an Empress and commanding vast armies, I think, at least from what I’ve seen around the internet (and especially back when the series was originally published).

And Mat specifically forces a grin at the news that Fortuona is pregnant, so he’s not genuinely happy about it (and we got things in recent chapters like Mat thinking that kidnapping Tuon was the worst idea he’d ever had).

But, honestly, I do still hate that it happens. I hate it up one side and down the other. It sucks as an ending for Mat so much. Miserable marriage, awful wife, horrible shackles tying him to a terrible fascist empire built on slavery.

That being said... just Tuon’s rule is incredibly fragile, this marriage is also incredibly fragile (which is probably why Jordan slapped a baby in there to begin with -- otherwise, given his general misery level in many of the Seanchan-related scenes, it’s difficult to see how Mat could bring himself to stick with Tuon for long enough to do whatever plot-related things Jordan was imagining would have happened in the outriggers -- the baby is a trap for Mat, not from Tuon but from Jordan).

There are still so many things about the Seanchan that could end up being deal-breakers for Mat if he finds out about them!

(ex. Bodewhin Cauthon is never mentioned in the books after Knife of Dreams, so it is entirely possible that she is among the new damane who were taken by the Seanchan in recent days, and Mat might end up seeing his sister with a collar around her neck post-canon. How would he react to that? And to Tuon’s unwillingness to let her go?)

In addition to Mat potentially seeing people he knows and cares about in collars, we also have the possibility of him learning just how brutal Tuon’s attack against the White Tower was (there isn’t any indication that he knows about the attack at all yet); or Talmanes telling him about Verin’s letter and Mat realizing how damaging his fear of Aes Sedai has been for the world; or further in the future there’s Mat’s potential reaction to the lethal political wrangling that Imperial heirs are meant to get up to (he was disturbed enough that Galgan liking him only means that subpar assassins will be sent against him -- when he realizes that Tuon might well encourage their own kids to kill each other to win her favor, it’s very hard to see him brushing that off). Plus he’s regained his sense of disgust over the damane system. So there are a lot of powderkegs waiting to be blown sky-high for Mat, post-canon.

idk, Mat’s storyline is maybe the one where I most have to untangle whether I dislike it more because I feel like it was executed poorly or if I dislike it because it sets up a situation that will never get resolution. And how connected are those things?

A big frustration that I’ve had with how Jordan and then Sanderson handled Mat’s storyline over the course of the last few books of the series was how many shortcuts were taken with his character and how artificial forcing him into the Seanchans’ arms has felt to me.

a. Mat getting trapped in Ebou Dar and then all the characters involved taking a vow of silence when it came to telling Rand about it. Mat getting trapped in Ebou Dar is plot nonsense: relatively forgivable. But having multiple characters being given the opportunity to change that situation and just... not bothering to do it is... that’s a characterization issue. It severely impacted my feelings about Nynaeve for Jordan to turn her into the kind of person who just doesn’t bother to tell Rand that his best friend was left behind in that kind of perilous situation. Plot manipulations... that’s just how the plot works. But over and over, characters got broken or bent for the purpose of jamming Mat into the Seanchan storyline.

b. Setalle Anan is a minor character, so I get why people don’t care about her, but she’s a character who pretty much completely reverses her characterization between WH & CoT (in WH, she is anti-slavery and finds Mat charming and trustworthy; in CoT & KoD, she protects and waits on Tuon while treating Mat like the dangerous one, including betraying Mat’s secrets to Tuon -- and her betrayals are never acknowledged by the text in any way; she just keeps on being treated as if she’s a friendly supporting character) and, from what I could see, it’s just so obviously done in order to protect Tuon from ever having even a sliver of character growth rather than it making sense for Setalle Anan’s character.

c. We keep tiptoeing up to the brink of Actually Having A Plot Happen with the Seanchan and then backing away at the last minute without really having a good reason to do it. Incredibly frustrating. This was one of my main annoyances with CoT & KoD. And in AMoL, both Rand and Egwene inexplicably back down when they have Tuon on the ropes and off-balance.

d. Mat’s teleportation to Ebou Dar in-between Towers of Midnight and A Memory of Light. I’ve talked about this one a lot but yeah. It’s just... really bad? I do suspect that Sanderson couldn’t figure out any way to actually make it believable that Mat would go to the Seanchan and that’s why he had it all happen off-the-page. But the careless damage that it does to Mat’s characterization is just horrific. Mat gets ripped out of the action of the first third of the book, and doesn’t get to the Last Battle itself until the book is more than half over. Once Mat is actually engaging in the Last Battle, his characterization steadies a lot but especially those first four chapters with Mat, it feels like we’re only working with half of his characterization and the other half has vanished somewhere in-between ToM & AMoL.

(and if Mat hadn’t been cut-and-pasted from the Tower of Ghenjei over to Ebou Dar, then we would have had a full reunion at Merrilor. So I’m annoyed/bitter about that too)

I could keep going but... let’s keep it at four issues for right now so that we’re not here all day, lol.

All of those issues are problems that I had with the execution of the storyline.

I am not inherently opposed to depressing endings for characters that I love but... it has to be done well. It has to make sense. And Mat’s ending just... required cutting away too many parts of him (and other characters) for it to make sense to me.

But though it is not always handled well (to put it mildly), Mat’s storyline with Tuon (and Tylin before her) is an example of the ‘typical gender roles are swapped’ done in a way that is more down to the very core of his storyline than a lot of other storylines, which are more on the surface.

He’s much less politically powerful than his spouse and needs to use guile, intrigue, and manipulation to get his way and try to persuade her to a gentler and kinder path than her warlike nature naturally aligns towards.

He undergoes something of a gender-swapped version of “The Taming of the Shrew” storyline, in which a fiercely independent person gets coerced/’tamed’ into being a properly submissive spouse (or, depending on your interpretation, into pretending to be one) -- many of the tricks that Tuon and Tylin use are similar to what Petruchio does to Katherine in the play. Mat gets publicly humiliated and starved by Tylin into submitting to her (which is what Petruchio does to Katherine during/after their wedding), and isolated away from his past connections during his time with Tuon, where he constantly has to act to try to figure out how to appease her without provoking her temper (Petruchio compares taming Katherine to falcon-taming, but Tuon would probably compare it to horse-training or damane-breaking), and Petruchio changes her name from ‘Katherine’ to ‘Kate’, which fits pretty well with Tuon’s insistence on never once calling Mat ‘Mat’.

Plus Mat getting his name changed to indicate that he now ‘belongs’ to Tuon’s people fits into this general category -- and historically, in the culture that Jordan belonged to, that’s normally a role given to women, to be given a new name that shows that they are now of their husband’s people and not their father’s; it’s usually their last name but, in the not too-distant past (and maybe currently in some places as well, idk), at least in the USA, women were often referred to as Mrs. “husband’s first name” “husband’s last name” with none of their own name making it into the address.

But a lot of the issues that I have with how this was written is that it felt like Mat was behaving like his hand was forced even when it wasn’t. Which is definitely a writing issue -- it’s a similar issue to the one that I have with the Rand & Min romance, for example, where Min desperately chases after something even though she doesn’t really want it at the start. Prophecy gets used as a way to skip actually writing important character or relationship beats, instead of prophecy being one of many tools in the writer’s kit.

So, yeah, it really is the execution of the storyline that is the biggest problem for me with Mat & Tuon, and the way it feels like he is pulled away from his other attachments whether or not that makes any narrative or character sense.

I really hope that the show does better with them, and with Mat in his endgame (should we get there, etc.).

I will say that I do think that Sanderson handled the romance better than Jordan did; the main problem was that it was already fundamentally broken by how the relationship was written in CoT & KoD, imo (the KoD collaring chapter in particular made me despise them as a pairing and my feelings never recovered from that moment). But in Sanderson’s books, we actually see the effects of Tuon compromising with Mat during various points of the Last Battle (though we see don’t actually see their private discussions and/or arguments that lead to those compromises), and there’s always a throughline showing how miserable the Seanchan lifestyle is for Mat, and those are two things that were majorly missing from CoT & KoD for me, but that make sense as the only way to make the romance even half-believable for Mat’s pre-established characterization from WH and earlier.

The three big issues that I have with Sanderson’s Mat are: the terrible first chapter of TGS (with the gross sexism); the terrible first chapter of AMoL (now featuring inexplicable teleportation); and the deep deep disservice done to Mat and Rand’s friendship (Rand got a personal goodbye with EVERYONE important to him EXCEPT Mat! And Mat got a personal reunion with everyone important to him, except Rand! All they got was the negotiation scene that was ultimately all about Fortuona and the Seanchan treaty, with Mat and Rand’s friendship being the set dressing around the scene).

But the relationship with Tuon honestly... makes a lot more sense in this book than it did in CoT & KoD (once we work past the brain-breaking logistics of the first chapter or so). There are TONS of hints that Mat has uncomfortable vibes going on underneath his casual exterior, plus Tuon actually does make some attempts at compromising with him, and if the well hadn’t been poisoned by how much I despised CoT/KoD-era Mat & Tuon then... I might have had a chance at enjoying AMoL-era Mat & Tuon for the toxic trainwreck that it is.

But, like all the characters & relationships in AMoL, we skip some pretty big moments in the Mat & Tuon relationship -- we see the effects of them compromising but we never actually see them coming to that compromise in private, which I feel like we needed after how unyielding and frankly how annoying Jordan made Tuon about everything.

We do end up with a Mat & a ‘Fortuona’ who remain at cross-purposes -- Mat continues to think of and refer to her as ‘Tuon’ while Fortuona has kinda reversed from thinking of him as a ‘buffoon’ to instead believing that he has the same kind of practical motivations behind his choices that she does, which is also not accurate. But Sanderson did add in some actual give-and-take to their relationship, which Jordan never seemed willing to do, so the AMoL-era Mat & Tuon is a lot more genuinely engaging for me, even if I do still think that they are one of the most obviously doomed fictional marriages that I have ever seen.

Final Mat-related question for the moment: the Seanchan Empire is based on authoritarian governments throughout history, so does how the Seanchan Empire operates mimic the behavior of a cult?

The popular model for cults is the BITE model, which was developed by a man who was deprogrammed from the Moon cult in 1976 (Steve Hassan). It’s an acronym:

Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotion control. BITE.

Do the Seanchan seek to control people’s behavior? (yes) Do they seek to control the flow of information that the people under them learn? (yes) Do they seek to have their members reject critical thought and only apply to the group-think? (yes) Do they manipulate the emotions of their followers, usually instilling fear or paranoia about outsiders? (yes)

We know from earlier books that the Seanchan culture =/= the Seanchan Empire. There are constant civil wars and uprisings in their native land. This is explicitly why they are such good soldiers, because they are always fighting each other. Yet they present themselves as a monolith when they come to the Westlands, bragging about how they’re here to bring ‘order’ to a lawless continent. What they say about themselves does not match the truth of what else we know about them.

How does the Seanchan Empire exercise its control over its people? Everything I included here is something I think we’ve see the Empire do, but I did bold ones that are particularly blatant in the text.

Behavior control: Control types of clothing and hairstyles; permission required for major decisions; rewards and punishments used to modify behaviors both positive and negative; discourage individualism; encourage group-think; impose rigid rules and regulations; punish disobedience by beating, torture, burning, cutting, rape, or tattooing/branding; threaten harm to family and friends; encourage and engage in corporal punishment; instill dependency and obedience; kidnapping; beating; torture; murder

Information control: Distort information to make it more acceptable; systematically lie to the cult members; minimize or discourage access to non-cult sources of information; ensure that information is not freely accessible; control information at different levels and missions within group; allow only leadership to decide who needs to know what and when; encourage spying on other members; impose a buddy system to monitor and control member; report deviant thoughts, feelings, and actions to leadership; ensure that individual behavior is monitored by group; extensive use of cult-generated propaganda

Thought control: require members to internalize the group’s doctrine as truth; adopting the group’s ‘map of reality’ as reality; instill black and white thinking; organize people into us vs them; change person’s name and identity; use of loaded language and cliches which constrict knowledge; encourage only ‘good and proper’ thoughts; thought-stopping techniques to shut down reality testing: denial, rationalization, justification, wishful thinking; rejection of rational analysis, critical thinking, constructive criticism; forbid critical questions about leader, doctrine, or policy; labeling alternative belief systems as illegitimate, evil, or not useful

Emotion control: teach emotion-stopping techniques to block feelings of homesickness, anger, doubt; make the person feel that problems are always their own fault, never the leader’s or the group’s fault; promote feelings of guilt or unworthiness; instill fear, such as fear of: thinking independently, the outside world, leaving or being shunned by the group; ritualistic and sometimes public confessions of sins; phobia indoctrination: inculcating irrational fears about leaving the group or questioning the leader’s authority, no happiness or fulfillment possible outside of group; shunning of those who leave; being told there is never a legitimate reason to leave.

“Destructive mind control can be determined when the overall effect of these four components promotes dependency and obedience to some leader or cause; it is not necessary for every single item on the list to be present.“ (in this case, that would be to the Empress, ~may she live forever~)

(all taken from freedomofmind(dot)com -- not linking because sometimes outside links make tumblr act weird about posts)

On the page, we witness the slow process of Leilwin née Egeanin pulling away and deprogramming from the Seanchan Empire, and then in this book, it feels like Mat has begun that process as well. And it feels like they started the same way -- because of a massive overreach by Tuon, the leader of the cult/Empire. Leilwin née Egeanin gets humiliated and punished by Tuon for no reason; just because Tuon felt like being a brat that day, and that moment of humiliation -- the re-naming and the forcing of the jewelry on her in a way that treated her like a slave -- was really what made Leilwin née Egeanin start to pull away from the other Seanchan and go into the path that eventually led to her being, however briefly, Egwene’s Warder.

For Mat, it really seems like whatever happened in that ‘not pleasant’ discussion that he and Tuon had after she berated him for, essentially, prioritizing Egwene’s privacy over Tuon’s desire to get information from him... that discussion (that we didn’t get to see) really seemed to lead to the more combative Mat who refused to back down and roll over for her. Mat still feels a level of protectiveness and affection for Tuon through the rest of the book but he stops letting her push him around and he starts acting like he cares about doing something about the slavery system in the Seanchan Empire again, which was a part of him that we lost at the start of CoT and I have hated so much that we lost in his character. But it slowly grows back over the course of the second half of AMoL.

Again, my big regret here is that the Mat & Rand reunion happened before Mat started his spine regrowth program. Even though Mat does start to push back on Tuon more here, he still never finished several of his character arcs that were set up over the course of the entire series: namely his own mistrust of Aes Sedai and his fear of Rand as a channeler. Both of those fears were things that he was actively working in the text and that he abruptly backtracked on when Tuon was introduced into his life (because being chill with channelers and being chill with people who enslave channelers is contradictory and so Jordan decided... to go with being chill with slavers). So those are two flapping loose ends for his character at the end of this series that never got to fully be addressed because the ‘romance’ was prioritized over Mat’s characterization.

Loial

Loial is looking for people to help him with accounts for his book and “Perrin ignored me and Mat cannot be found”.

Mat just completely disappearing from the Westlands side of things to go set up a fireworks show for Tuon (and asking Aludra to be the one to set it up, which just seems kinda mean, considering that the Seanchan pretty much completely eliminated the Illuminators) is just... frustrating. Apparently Mat visited the battlefield here “smiling and healthy” but then vanished. So, in theory, there’s an empty place here where Mat might have visited Rand and talked to Elayne & co one last time, since Rand is in the main healing tent on this battlefield.

Loial also notes how odd it is that Elayne and Min don’t seem to feel any urge to go in to hold Rand’s hand while he’s dying (Aviendha is getting her legs looked at). I know, Loial! They’re the worst fake-grievers who ever lived, I swear. If the whole point is to trick people into thinking Rand is dead, then it might be a good idea to... actually try to trick people?

Moghedien

In which Tuon’s people are already breaking the terms of the treaty by snatching up channelers from the battlefield at Merrilor. No hundred years of peace, Rand. I’m sorry.

Rand (& all those who say ‘goodbye’ to him, or who don’t)

Rand leaves the mountain, slipping on his own blood and carrying a body. Shayol Ghul is trying to close before he can leave and he only barely makes it out in time before the cave snaps shut behind him.

Moiraine tells Rand that he did well, and Nynaeve tries desperately to keep him alive, but eventually, and without ever waking back up, ‘Rand’ dies.

Elayne, Aviendha, and Min do the absolute worst job of playing grieving widows ever. Like, if Rand had actually died, I could understand this better. Because they might really be in shock. But they know he’s alive! And their whole job is to convince people that they absolutely believe that he’s dead! Just... pinch your arm until you start crying! This is literally the most suspicious way that they could have gone about things -- Nynaeve is already extremely suspicious of how they’re acting. Seriously, she’s gonna wiggle the truth out of them pretty much five seconds post-epilogue.

Birgitte comes to say goodbye to Elayne because she’s about to be reborn... and to mention that she’s tossed away the Horn of Valere. Sure hope that Elayne doesn’t regret that in ten years when they’re at war with the Seanchan!

Tam hopes that now his son can get some rest. My hope is that Rand will, you know, go and talk to his dad after he’s had a chance to recover from the stress and trauma of the Last Battle. Also, Tam... you’re gonna have grandkids. No thoughts on that, I see. Still no thoughts on that.

The funeral scene frustrates me to pieces.

Honestly, the most frustrating thing about the funeral scene is how easy it would have been to casually mention that Mat and Perrin were there? Like, that’s ONE SENTENCE. Just... the erasure of those years of friendship, because heterosexual marriage, in Jordan’s fictional world, meant that close male-male friendships just stopped existing. It’s depressing. That CADSUANE is considered to have more right to be at Rand’s funeral than his childhood friends who were also vital parts of the Last Battle. It’s insulting. And apparently Tam organized it? But he couldn’t be bothered to invite his kid’s best friends. Definitely a place where Sanderson should have done some editing of the original epilogue. One sentence is all that was needed.

*sigh*

I do think that Sanderson did try to set up why Mat wouldn’t have gone -- we have seen Mat, in several of his recent PoV scenes, swallowing his grief over losing people he loves and not letting it appear to affect him openly, even as it rocked him deeply, so Rand’s death would be another of those gut-punches that he would do his best to pretend didn’t happen. But, fuck... it just sucks that the friendship between Mat and Rand is such a sublimated thing in this last book, when Rand and Mat both got to much more openly deal with pretty much every other important relationship that they had (though I will note that Rand and Sulin never got a reunion either! Rude!).

Perrin didn’t get anything like that kind of subtextual explanation, but Perrin actually did visit Rand’s healing tent while he was dying, so at least he got that much. *shrugs*

Min thinking here about how the assembled people expect a ‘show’ of grief -- yes, they have all found it exceedingly odd that none of you appear to be grieving the man you said that you loved.

Rand wakes up in his new body, washed clean of the wounds that he’d taken over the course of the series. No more missing hand; no more agonizing pain in his side.

I have to admit “she left me some money” feels like a pretty anti-climatic way for Alivia to “help Rand die”? She wasn’t really involved in his “death” at all -- it was really Moiraine and Nynaeve who were the ones who ‘helped’ him die. I mean, any one of Min, Elayne, or Aviendha could have left him some money, since they all know he’s alive. I wonder if Jordan was originally thinking that Alivia would be the one joining Rand & Nynaeve for the cave journey, and it was Sanderson who decided that Moiraine would be more appropriate? Nothing distinctively Moiraine happens in that cave, not the way that Nynaeve was needed to be there to heal Alanna without using the Power. Like, this poor woman was harassed by Min for a handful of books because of that prophecy and all she did was leave Rand some money! Min better find her and apologize to her! (I already know that she won’t)

Haha, so confession: my brain edited out that new!Rand had lost saidin. My brain was just like “nope, of course he can still channel”. Personally, I’m not a huge fan of Rand not being a channeler at the end of the story, so that part I’m not thrilled about. He does have his newfound ability to use the threads of reality to basically channel anyway, though. Or at least I assume that’s what the pipe scene is about.

And then his thought, too, about ‘which’ of the women will follow him - yeah, you’re right that thinking that means you’ve gotten a swollen head! They all have responsibilities! Though since Rand leaves so abruptly here, there’s a lot that he doesn’t know, and the two things that most affect this specific question are: the extent of Aviendha’s injuries and the extent of Min’s involvement with the Seanchan. Literally zero of them is in a position to go chasing after Rand, even if they wanted to! Rand is the one who has no obligations and can easily visit them if he wants (well, maybe not ‘easily’ if Min does end up in the Empire).

But I can still remember, wow, what a relief it was that he was alive at the end, and free and unbound. The rest can be... adjusted by post-canon theories.

In terms of ‘things that aren’t covered but that we can probably assume’:

It does look like Elayne ended up with all three of the medallion copies -- the one Mellar used on her, the one that was on Birgitte’s body, and the third was with Lan and she probably reclaimed it (there’s nothing to indicate that Mat spoke with Lan and got it back), so the slaver empress never gets that medallion that Mat wanted to give her back in ToM. Tragic.

Despite Elayne and Tam speaking frequently over the course of AMoL, they somehow never speak about the whole grandkids issue. I feel like we can assume that this happens at some point, post-epilogue? Elayne and Aviendha both seem like they would go back to Caemlyn to rebuild. And Tam doesn’t really have a reason to go back to the Two Rivers at this point, so I can see him ending in Caemlyn too because: grandkids.

Technically, Min has slipped the Seanchan net at this point and could just not go back if she wants, so she can either go back to the Seanchan or she could go to Caemlyn with Elayne & Aviendha, but if she does stay away from the Seanchan, Tuon is going to try to get her back. Unless she was super-turned off by Min actually standing up to her in front of all the Blood and hastily makes Selucia her Truthspeaker again. That’s another possibility.

Ah, since we were told earlier that Melaine was about ready to give birth and Birgitte tells Elayne that she’s about to be reborn: Melaine might be her mom. I feel like Birgitte being reborn as Aiel sounds kinda fun.

I feel like Rand would not actually enjoy traveling all on his own after a while, given what we know about him, so he would probably end up visiting Caemlyn. And given how suspicious Nynaeve already is in the epilogue, I’m going to guess that she knows the truth by the time Rand goes to Caemlyn.

If Mat decides to leave the Seanchan behind at any point, he will probably also go to Caemlyn, and Mat and Rand can finally have a good reunion.

All in all, there are things about the ending that don’t thrill me but there are also things I really like. And having an ending at all helps in terms of sparking the imagination for fanfiction or meta or... an Amazon Prime television series. I don’t think we would have ever gotten the series if the books had stayed unfinished.

The epilogue checklist (and my theories about how it affected AMoL)

So, while reading AMoL, it felt like Sanderson took a couple of shortcuts in order to bruteforce the characters into reaching their epilogue endpoints, because there simply wasn’t enough time for it to happen naturally. This is my list of things that I believe got shortchanged due to “writing to the epilogue”:

Fortuona is pregnant in the epilogue: at the start of AMoL, Mat gets teleported to Ebou Dar without any kind of narrative or logistical explanation (contradicting his PoV chapter in the ending of ToM, where he was planning to return to Caemlyn, which would have thrust him directly into the main stories at play in the prologue & early chapters). I feel like part of it is that Sanderson really wanted to get that bun in the oven as quickly as possible.

“they expected something from the three of them; a show of some kind” : There’s just a wide acknowledgement in the epilogue that literally everyone knows that Rand has three girlfriends, so everyone just already knows in AMoL that Rand is in a relationship with three women now. No need for anyone to have emotional reactions to it, please! (not even Rand’s literal dad!) This one also ends up being weird because it seems to change from moment-to-moment whether or not the whole army knows that Rand has three girlfriends (if everyone knows already, why is Rand playing spy games with Elayne?).

Min is Fortuona’s pregnancy test: Min instantly respects ~Fortuona~ as an empress even while thinking that she doesn’t normally respect nobility. Bizarre, considering Min’s own history with the Seanchan from Falme.

Mat kills Fain: we got two super-quick glimpses of Fain earlier in the book to set up this moment but Mat had so much other stuff to do that Sanderson couldn’t really do more than say: yeah, Fain exists and he’s bad, lol.

Minor elements I think were affect by the epilogue:

Rand is still pondering over the idea of choosing between Elayne, Aviendha, or Min: we get Rand’s going “am I allowed to love three women? idk sounds fake” when he and Aviendha sleep together in chapter 4, which just was kinda silly. I think the epilogue is also the genesis of the vibe where Rand appears to consider “having sex with Min for months” to not be any kind of “choice” when it comes to the three women, but having a romantic interlude with Aviendha or Elayne would signal a choice -- because the epilogue acts like the situation between Rand and each of the three women is roughly equal, so “months of sex with Min” appears to hold the same emotional weight to Rand as “pining from afar with two nights of intense passion” does when he thinks of either Elayne or Aviendha.

Mat has no thoughts about any of the Westlands characters: I think that this is more of a subconscious effect -- as he focused more on the final book, I think Sanderson focused on the relationships highlighted in the all-important epilogue... and the only person that Mat cares about in the epilogue is himself *cough* I mean, Fortuona, of course, lol. In both TGS and in ToM, Mat’s deep affection for various Westlands characters was constantly on display, as shown in his own ‘loves lying to himself’ way. This gets curtailed in AMoL, especially in the early Ebou Dar chapters.

I think I’m going to let myself might let myself marinate over the various books before I post a final list of my personal ranking of the books.

One thing that I’ve really noticed is that, more than any other character, the quality of Mat’s storyline has a huge impact on my overall enjoyment of the book. In CoT & KoD, Elayne and Egwene (both of whom I love), got pretty good stories. But Mat’s story was so bad that it made it difficult for me to enjoy the good parts. But maybe some time just letting myself think about the series as a whole will balance out my thoughts. Does that make Mat my favorite character or just my most impactful character? idk. I feel like Elayne or Rand would more consistently hit the top of my favorites.

Overall top five characters throughout the entire series:

1. Elayne

2. Rand

3. Egwene

4. Mat (might be higher if not for CoT & KoD)

5. Nynaeve (might be higher if she didn’t basically disappear after she married Lan)

Then, moving on to the next favs, I think there’s more uncertainty there for me:

6. Verin, probably, but it could be Moiraine. Let’s say they tie.

7. Aviendha and Siuan can both go here. Both generally very good and interesting characters.

8. You know, I had a real turnaround with Gawyn in this reread of the books; I’m gonna put him here. He can share this spot with Leilwin née Egeanin.

9. Loial, probably. Needed more PoV; that would have been nice. I’ll put Faile here with him.

10. For more minor characters, I gotta give a shout-out to Narishma (favorite Asha’man), Sulin, Pevara during her Black Ajah Hunter phase, Olver is really good in his sections here in AMoL, Asmodean for being my favorite fail-Forsaken and Moghedien for sticking it out until the very end, Elaida honestly very fun PoV as far as villains go, Teslyn and Joline for being troopers and enduring Mat Cauthon at his very worst, my girl Berelain who always deserved better, the ‘Finn in general always lots of fun, Aludra and Juilin who always kept their integrity intact.

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #wot amol spoilers #wot a memory of light spoilers #mat cauthon #rand al'thor #elayne trakand #so it really feels like the 'main characters' of the actual last battle #were rand mat egwene and elayne #with everyone else being more of a secondary character #who helped the one of those main four storylines #posting this today because ao3 is being slightly iffy right now #so i'm going to post the next chapter of voice on thursday #and just give ao3 some time to work out whatever the connection issues are

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hoedamn-eron · 4 months

Text

baby, please - part 17

It's your first Christmas without your family, but Santiago makes it up to you.

Warnings: Mega heavy on Christmas talk. Mentions of pregnancy complications from the previous chapter. Mentions of shitty in-laws. Gabrielle isn't actually in it, but she's being a bit distant but you know. It's fine. Lot's of dialogue, again. Not proofread whatsoever. Santi and Frankie have an argument we're not privvy to. Word count: 4,724 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Apologies this is late, but here is Christmas with Santi! I did mention it in a post, but I'll mention it again here: please be aware that part 18 won't be posted until 11/01 (11th January) due to a busy Christmas period. I need to catch up with myself, and I start a new job in the New Year, so I won't be to write as much as I was able to before.

Edited because Gabs isn't married to Andy, she's married to Matthew 😂 it's Courtney who is married to Andy! Now I'm going to have to double check all of my chapters to see if everyone is married to the correct person 😂

Part 16 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 18

You’d been taking it easy since your stay at the hospital a few weeks ago.

You took less responsibilities at work (your friends wanted you to cut down on your hours, but you just couldn’t do that), and you begrudgingly accepted the help of others to help you pack for your move next month. Speaking of your friends, they’d been checking in on you multiple times a week, and every time, you tell them you’re fine. Really.

The twins were fine. You were fine. Everyone was fine.

“You have a case of placenta previa.”

You look at Dr Montgomery, confused, from your place on the ultrasound table. “What’s that?”

“Your placenta is low, and covering the cervix,” she replied, looking at the screen as she pressed a few keys on the keyboard, then moving the wand over your bump. “Usually, it’s detected at your 20-week ultrasound, but it must have been missed, especially since you’re having twins.”

“Is it...is everyone okay, is it dangerous?”

“It can be risky, but we’ll keep an eye on you,” Dr Montgomery said. “The bleeding was caused by this, and stress. You’ll need to come back for another ultrasound at 32 to 33 weeks. It may have moved on its own by then, but otherwise, we may have to look at a caesarean birth at 37 weeks.”

“What? No! I wanted to go as natural as possible,” you say, your eyes widening. You had a plan! “I can’t be out of commission for 6 weeks with twins!”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you wanted, but I strongly advise you look into it,” she replies, giving you a sympathetic look before turning off the machine. “I also recommend you take it easy if you can. I’m not saying strict bed rest, but just...relax a bit more.”

So that’s what you’ve done...you’ve relaxed. You’ve downloaded a kick counting app, something you should have done a while ago, so you could count the kicks from the babies, just in case. So far, they’d been back to normal – and by ‘normal’, you mean they were using your bladder as a soccer ball, with a shot to the kidneys every now and then.

Santi had arrived in the hospital just as Dr Montgomery had given you the okay to go home. Beth had left just after the results of your ultrasound (at your insistence), so you were packing your bag as Santi ran into your room, breathless and eyes wide. You’d looked at him with equally as wide eyes, before you hurriedly caught him up, telling him everything was okay, that you just needed to take it easy.

You introduced him to Dr Montgomery, who explained the situation a little better. It calmed Santi down a little, but you still noticed him tapping his foot as he nodded along, his hands resting on his hips as he listened intently. He kept glancing at you, as if you would collapse or suddenly disappear.

He gave you a lift home (in his truck) and insisted he stay for dinner. He cooked some food for the both of you, and you both ate on your couch, Santi wanting to know every detail to what happened. He apologised again and again for not being there, but you told him it was Thanksgiving weekend, you don’t blame him for not being there. No-one could predict what would have happened.

Dr Montgomery had booked you in for another scan a few days before Christmas. Santi insisted on going with you, which you were grateful for, of course. Unfortunately, your placenta hadn’t moved much, and you were booked in for a c-section for the end of January.

You sulked as you walked out of the hospital, pouting.

Santi gave you a small nudge, walking beside you. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“I wanted to give birth naturally,” you mumble, as you both approach the truck.

Santi grabs your arm gently, stopping you as you stop at the bed of the truck. “I know it’s not what you wanted, and that does suck for you. I’m sorry. But Dr Montgomery said it was the safest option for you and them.”

You sighed. “I feel like it’s...it’s like I’m not...like I’ve already failed as a mother, by bringing them into the world that way.”

Santi looks at you, his eyes filled with empathy. He places a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen to me," he says, his voice soft but firm. "Having a c-section doesn't make you any less of a mother. What matters is that you and the babies are safe. That's the priority."

You lean against the truck, staring at the ground as a mix of emotions wash over you. "I just wanted everything to be perfect, you know? A beautiful, natural birth story to tell them when they're older."

Santi gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Life never goes according to plan, especially when it comes to something as unpredictable as having kids. We should know.” he grins at you, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

You give a small laugh at his quip.

He continues. “But that doesn't lessen the love you have for them or the strength it takes to do what's best for their well-being." He pauses, before giving you a reassuring smile. "You're not failing as a mom. If anything, you're making the tough decisions now because you love them so much."

You take a deep breath, absorbing his words, before nodding. “Okay.”

Santi studies you for a moment. “C’mere.” He pulls you into a comforting hug, and you melt into him, allowing the warmth of his embrace to provide a momentary escape from the overwhelming emotions of your appointment with Dr Montgomery. "We'll get through this together.”

You nod against him, just holding him a little longer than necessary before pulling away. “Thank you.”

He gives another laugh. “Don’t thank me for speaking the truth, querida.”

You wipe away at the few stray tears in your eyes before turning to him. “Come on, I gotta get home. Help me get in this junk heap.”

“Hey, don’t insult my truck,” Santi says in mock offence, before he smirks and opens the door for you, and helps you climb in.

He drives you in silence as you talk to him about work, how you’ve taken a step back and you hate it but you’re willing to do it for less stress. Harriet was a little apprehensive when you told her, that she needed you on board for this newest client, that the product was about to launch but you didn’t back down. You told her that you weren’t backing away, but just taking on less of the load. Emily and Kelsie were happy to take some of the tasks; Hell, Kelsie was practically frothing at the mouth for the opportunity to add on some more responsibility than she already had. She told you herself she wanted most of the glory since this was her first big client.

“Bit of a shitty thing for Harriet to do, guilt trip you like that.”

You shrug. “That’s just Harriet. I’ve grown used to it,” you say. “Been there long enough.”

“Since graduation, right?”

You nod. “Yup.”

“Ever thought about leaving?”

Your eyes widened as you turn to look at him. “Why would I do that? I’ve built myself up, I have a relationship and reputation with clients.”

Santi shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. “I dunno. Seems like you’re underappreciated and overworked, from what you’ve told me. Is there no other marketing firm in Florida?”

“There is - “

“Shop around,” Santi said, as if he wasn’t asking you to consider leaving the only current stability you had in your life right now. “See if anyone is hiring, for a better position or just to be treated a little better.”

“I think it’ll be the same everywhere,” you say, laughing a little.

Santi shrugged. “Just putting it out there.”

You nod. “I mean...I’ll think about it. Maybe after Christmas. Or after I’m back from maternity leave.”

It goes quiet again for a few minutes before Santi asks, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

You shrug. “I have no plans. Beth offered to have me over again, but I feel like I can’t keep intruding on their time.”

“If they’ve asked you to join them, I don’t think you’ll be intruding.”

Your family had still not contacted you. You had messaged the group chat again, accepting that there would probably be no reply still (and there wasn’t). You had another episode, alone this time, sitting on your couch late at night, stereotypically sobbing into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream as you watched Home Alone. It had been your favourite as a child, and something you had watched together with your family, after you’d put the decorations up. This year, you had no tree, no decorations, and you watched it alone.

It had been a sad night.

“You could always...” Santi said a little awkwardly, before clearing his throat. “You could always spend it with me. If you wanted. You don’t have to.”

You look at him with wide eyes, but Santi keeps his gaze on the road, an air of nervousness surrounding him. “You...want to spend Christmas with me?”

“I would have asked you to Thanksgiving but I didn’t...my sisters...”

“I wasn’t expecting you to invite me,” you said, sensing his anxiousness. “Please don’t think over on that.”

“I should have invited you - “

“Santiago,” you say, firmly, causing him to give a quick glance at you before looking back at the road, turning to your apartment’s street. “I am okay. We are okay. You were visiting your family for the first time in years. I didn’t need to be there.”

He goes silent, his jaw tensing like he wants to say something else, but he just sighs through his nose and gives a tight nod.

You reach over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I would love to spend Christmas with you.”

“Have you spoken to Gabs recently?”

You look at Courtney with a confused look on your face as you reach for your water. “I mean, I spoke to her last week about the kids’ Christmas presents. Why?”

You and Courtney had met up for some last-minute Christmas shopping, and you stopped for some dinner before heading home. You had to admit, Gabrielle had been a little off when you spoke to her last week and you had asked if everything was okay, but she had just told you it was Christmas stress. It wasn’t so farfetched, Gabrielle hosted every year for her and Matthew’s families, so of course there was no reason to not believe her.

“Hm,” said Courtney, her brow furrowing. “She’s been a little…weird.”

You shrug. “I mean…she seemed off when I spoke to her, and I asked her about it but she said it was Christmas stress.”

Courtney shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just…bugging me.”

“We could talk to her about it,” you say. “But you know Gabs, she’ll come to us eventually when she’s ready to let us know what’s going on.”

Courtney shook her head for a moment before giving you a look. “You’re right. You’re right! I’m just worried about her.”

“She’ll be fine,” you say. “You know what she gets like at Christmas, she’s hosting for everyone. And you know Matthew’s family.” You give Courtney a pointed look.

Courtney pulled a face. “Yeah. They’re assholes to her. But she keeps hosting!”

“Look, we tell her this every year and you know what she says – “

“’It’s only once a year’,” you both say in unison.

“Exactly,” you say. “So she’ll probably be back to normal after Christmas.”

“Fine. Fine,” said Courtney. “Let’s talk about something else. Like how you’re spending Christmas with Santiago!”

“I am,” you say, feeling your cheeks warming slightly.

“I think that’s nice,” Courtney says. “You’re like...starting your family. Getting the traditions in.”

You nod. “Yeah, I think so too. If this is something we do every year, then best start now, right?”

“You going to his place?” Courtney asked, before thanking the waitress for bringing your food over.

You nod, also thanking the waitress. “It’ll be easier since most of my stuff is packed up now. Thanks again for that, by the way.”

“No problem,” Courtney said, digging into her food. She gives you a grin. “It’s exciting, but also a little sad. It’s the end of an era, but the start of a new one.”

“In a month’s time, I’m going to be a mom,” you say, your eyes wide as if you don’t quite believe it yourself. “How weird is that?”

“Stop it,” said Courtney. “Who knew you would be the next one to have a kid?”

You snort, tucking into your own food. “I don’t think anyone thought I would have a kid, full stop.”

“No,” said Courtney, shaking her head. “I think you would have. Just in ten years.”

“Well, life didn’t work out how I’d planned,” you said, laughing. “But it’s good. Life is good.”

“And you’re happy?” Courtney asked.

Were you? Happy? You go quiet as you think. Obviously, you hadn’t planned to get pregnant, and with twins for that matter, in your tiny one-bedroom apartment, or not be speaking to your parents, or be questioning your job. But here you were, about to finish the year with a new house, amazing friends, new babies, and Santi.

Oh, Santi.

You never thought you would have met someone like Santi, even though you both weren’t together-together. You were lucky to have him; most men after one-night-stands would have left by now, but not Santi. He was sticking around, and in it for the long run. And honestly, you know he wouldn’t feel the same way about you than you felt about him, but he loved you as a friend and the mother of his kids, and you adored that he wanted to help you raise these babies together.

You slowly smile and look at Courtney. “Yeah…yeah, I’m happy.”

You pull up outside Santi’s apartment, taking a deep breath before climbing out of the car. You'd been simultaneously looking forward to Christmas with Santi, and dreading Christmas with Santi. He told you that it was his first year spending it in Florida since returning from Colombia and warned you that his Christmas dinner would probably be something he could quickly rustle up and wasn’t too much hassle - ‘very non-traditional’ was what he said. You didn’t mind; the year had been incredibly ‘non-traditional’ for you anyway.

You make your way up to his apartment, a large bag of presents in your hand. You knock, biting your lip nervously as you waited for Santi to open the door. You look up as the door opens, and you give a laugh at Santi. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright red jumper with a Santa knitted into it, and a Santa hat, and was wearing his usual jeans. He had a bottle of beer in his hand.

He holds his arms out wide as he grins at you. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you say as you step inside, still laughing at his outfit.

Santi closes the door behind you before he brings you into a quick hug. “I don’t have much of an itinerary today, but Frankie and Sarah might stop by later with Sofía.”

You nod, pulling back from him. “That works out, actually, because I got something for Sofía,” you say, motioning to your bag.

Santi gives you a small, closed-lipped smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t,” you say. “I wanted to. They’re a big part of your life, therefore, they’ll be a big part of our kids’ lives.”

Santiago doesn’t say anything as you make your way into his living room, where he had a small Christmas tree in the corner, overly decorated. You hear Santi make his way into the kitchen as you took the presents out of bag and placed them underneath, smiling as the pile grew. You look up as Santi makes his way into the living room. “Some of these from your sisters?”

He nodded, handing you a can of Diet Coke. “Yeah. I saw them last week, dropped off gifts then. I just got off the phone with them, since my nieces had just opened their Barbie dolls, with their cars, and pets, and accessories...”

You giggled, opening the can. “There’s an awful lot of girls in your family.”

He nodded, grinning. “I have a few cousins who are guys, who had a few boys. I'm not totally overruled.”

You give a small laugh as you sip at your drink. “So, do you want to do presents now? Or later? We could eat first, if you wanted.”

“The empanadas are resting in the fridge, and I have mac and cheese in the slow cooker,” said Santi, taking a gulp at his almost forgotten beer. “Got all sorts of vegetables and potatoes roasting in my oven too.”

“Sounds like a feast,” you say. You could feel your mouth watering. “Maybe we could eat soon?” you give Santi a big smile.

He chuckles at you before nodding. “I’ll put the empanadas in.”

You nod as Santi disappeared back through the kitchen. You look at the presents, and the small tree, and the fact that his living room was bare of any other decorations. Your mind wandered to the fact that this was his first Christmas since settling down, that he was in an actual home and not in a shack or seedy motel somewhere in South America. You really appreciated that he offered you his place for the day, that he’d gone out of his way – and his comfort zone – to bring you into his space again.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You look up at him, blinking in confusion before you realise you were crying. You give a small laugh of slight embarrassment. “I didn’t realise I was crying, I'm sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, cariño,” he said, taking a seat next to you on the floor, giving you a concerned look as he rested his hand in the middle of your back. “Is there anything I can do for you? I knew today would be difficult, I don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be - “

“No, Santi, really, I'm fine,” you say, cutting him off. “I’m just hormonal. I cry at everything.”

He hesitated for a moment before asking, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, just because I asked - “

“I want to be here, Santi,” you say, reaching over and squeezing his hand that was still wrapped around a beer. “Really, I’m fine. I just...I like that I'm here, you know? I like that you want me here.”

Santi paused for a moment, looking at you before he gives a grin. “Of course, I want you here.”

You give another weak laugh. “Okay then.”

You help him in the kitchen with the food, and of course as soon as you sit down to eat, Frankie and Sarah make their way through with Sofía, profusely apologising for interrupting for not texting beforehand. Santi told them it was fine, and after a few hugs and a quick catch up between you and the Morales’, you all sit to have something to eat.

You get to know the Morales’ a little more intimately than you did on Halloween; you were in a smaller setting with fewer people, and Sarah wasn’t so distracted by the other guests. She was fun, and loud, and someone you could see getting along with for a long time. Frankie was the opposite; quiet, and observant, but you could see how much he opened up to Santi. He wasn’t rude to you at all, including you in the conversation when he could, and you could see why Santi loved him so much.

And then there was Sofía, who giggled at everything you said, and kept trying to steal the mac and cheese on your plate, even though Sarah kept adding more to her plate. You didn’t mind, but Sarah insisted she stop doing it (“It’s becoming a whole thing, we’re trying to nip it in the bud now, while we can!”). When you all finished dinner, you offered to do the dishes, but you were rebuffed when you were lead into the living room, Santi quickly clearing up the plates, saying he’d ‘deal with them later’.

Sarah plonks you down in the armchair by the tree before she hands you an envelope. “This is more for when the babies are here than right now, but it’s valid for three years.”

You look at her in confusion before you open the envelope, mouth falling open as you take a look at the expensive gift voucher. “Sarah, I can’t accept this!”

“Oh sure you can,” she says, waving you off.

You thank her profusely, before you lean down and grab a few boxes from under the tree. “I got some things for Sofía – “

“You didn’t have to do that!” cried Sarah.

“Don’t be silly, here,” you say, handing the toddler the boxes, who took more interest in the wrapping paper than the actual present.

As you and Sarah sit, you look up for Santi and Frankie, who were strangely quiet. You’re taken aback to find them stood close together, quietly arguing with one another. Frankie was pointing at Santi’s chest and saying something too quiet for you to hear, but it was filled with anger, nonetheless. Santi merely argued back.

You look away, putting a mental note in it. You’ll ask Santi about it later.

As Sofía played with the wooden doctor’s set, and the baby doll that you’d gotten along with it, you chatted to Sarah before Frankie finally made his way over. “I think we oughta go.”

Sarah nodded. “Shoot, you’re right, we promised we’d see your mom like, an hour ago.”

As they gather their things and say their goodbyes (Santi and Frankie were still tense), you and Santi were left alone. You look around and sigh, before looking back at him. “What was that about?”

“What?” Santi asked, going around the living room and collecting wrapping paper, avoiding eye contact.

“You and Frankie, what were you arguing about?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Santi, shaking his head. “Something stupid with Benny, you know how it is.”

You don’t feel like he’s telling you the truth, but you know if you pry, Santi is more likely to close up. You slowly nod at him. “Okay. Sure, yeah.”

He finally looks at you and gives you a tight smile. “Everything is okay, hermosa.”

You hesitate before nodding then glancing at the presents under the tree. “I think we should do our gifts now.”

“Okay,” Santi said, before patting you on the back as he passed you to go back into the kitchen, tossing the papers away.

You settle on the floor by the tree, and lean over and grab a few gifts, placing them by Santi as he joined you moments later. “I didn’t go overboard - “

“I don’t believe that,” Santi said from his own place under the tree before he pulled out a small box, wrapped somewhat neatly, and placing it in front of you. “Now, this doesn’t look like a lot but - “

“Stop, Santi, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s about the sentiment.”

Santi nodded, before going quiet, glancing at you at the present. You grin and nod to him. “You go first.”

He gives a small laugh before nodding at the boxes in front of him. “Any particular order?”

“Nope,” you reply.

Like a child, Santi didn’t have to be told twice. He immediately tore into the gifts, smiling widely at the new shirts you’d bought him, and a nice watch. He immediately put it on, before admiring it.

“This is nice,” he said, still admiring it.

“I know you like swimming, so it’s waterproof too,” you say. “And it tracks your exercise. Since you refuse to get an Apple Watch, I went for the next best thing.”

“Thank you, hermosa,” he says, before opening his last gift. He pauses as he looks down at the strap for a guitar.

“I know you’ve been trying to get back into it, and I know your current strap is falling apart,” you say, smiling. “I thought you could do with an upgrade. And look!” you pull the strap from the wrapping before finding the end and pointing. “I have it engraved with your initials.”

“This is…this is great, cariño. Thank you,” he said, before he stands quickly and leaves the room. He comes back a few moments later, guitar in hand as he settles back on the floor with you, practically ripping off the old strap. He puts on the new one, and why he was fiddling with it, he pushed the small box towards you. “Like I said, it’s not a lot…”

“Santi, please,” you say as you open the gift. You pause at the sight of the Tiffany box, glancing up at Santi who was now looking at your nervously.

You open the Tiffany box, to find a silver chain-link bracelet, with a charm of a Christmas tree hanging off it. You gingerly take it out the box, looking at it more closely.

“I have more charms, but I can’t give them to you yet,” he said. “I got the tree because it’s…it’s our first Christmas together.”

Oh my God, you might burst into tears.

No, actually, you’re already crying.

“Santiago,” you say, in a high-pitched cry, looking at the bracelet, at the delicate green charm of the Christmas tree.

“Oh, no,” he said, scootching over to you and bringing you into his arms, where you sobbed into shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. If you don’t like it – “

“Don’t like it!?” you cry, pushing away from him, looking between him and the bracelet. “I love it. Put it on me!” you shove it at him before presenting your wrist to him.

Santi chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief, carefully fastening the bracelet around your wrist before he gave a soft kiss to the warmth of your skin. Your heartbeat loudly in your ears as Santi gave your wrist a squeeze and he looked at you with a warm smile on his face. You look at the bracelet, the charm sitting pretty. You smiled widely at it, tears still falling down your cheeks.

“Please, stop crying,” laughed Santi, reaching up to wipe your years away.

“I can’t,” you say, laughing back as you look at him. “I’m pregnant, and hormonal, and you got me a really nice, sappy gift. I love it.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He goes quiet for a moment before he swallows nervously. “I…”

You look at him as he goes quiet. “Yeah?”

The two of you just staring at each other. Eyes locked onto his, you search for the words that seem to linger unspoken on his lips. There's a certain vulnerability in his silence, a hesitance that hangs in the air like the delicate balance before a confession.

"What is it?" you prompt again gently, your heart quickening in anticipation.

His eyes flicker nervously, and you can almost sense the internal struggle within him. It's as if he's wavering on the edge of an abyss, grappling with emotions that have finally found their way to the surface. Could he…could he be trying to say what you think he…

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in tandem with the weight of his unspoken words. You can feel the gravity of the moment, the tension building between you two, as if the universe itself is holding its breath in anticipation of what he's about to say.

“The next charm you’ll get is in a few weeks, at the baby shower,” Santi finally said, after a long pause.

Oh. That wasn’t what you expected at all. You were –

Wait.

You pause, your brow furrowing as you look at him, tears finally stilling. “The what?”

Santi freezes, his face falling as he looks at you. “Oh, shit.”

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @bluenredndeath, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader #santiago garcia x f!reader

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finniestoncrane · 2 months

Text

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 37: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2k hello i will never stop writing misunderstandings where it could be solved if either of these idiots were capable of just saying how they feel💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: minor angst here!!

“I have a surprise for you.”

You knew each of those words, but they still confused you, considering they were coming out of Eddie’s mouth. Eddie, who liked to plan and prepare, who had no notion of the unexpected because he was always ten steps ahead of everyone else on the planet. Eddie, who was the furthest thing from romantic or playful, as far as you knew (and you felt you knew him quite well by now). Eddie, who up until now had been perfect as he was, most of the time, but was now adding a new layer to himself that intrigued you.

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I did just say that, didn’t I? Is there an echo in here? Have you gone deaf?”

Rolling your eyes at his cruel sarcasm, you clarified.

“Usually, when people say that, they’re asking for you to offer them some more information, or they’re shocked by the suggestion that there’s a surprise for them.”

“Well, my dear, which is it? And why wouldn’t you just say that.”

You could hardly argue with his logic, so you indulged.

“Ok then. What is the surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?”

This felt more like Eddie. Back to the familiarity of the affectionate frustration. He filled the silence by providing you with a little bit more information, sensing that he had to offer something given that his attitude had slipped. Providing you with a smile and at least some sort of indication about what was happening that night seemed like enough of an apology.

“Let’s call it a date. One of my signature weird ones. Will you make sure to be ready to leave at midnight?”

You smiled at him, an eyebrow raised in a silent and unspoken question, nodding your head in agreement with his plans as he turned and left, in more of a hurry than he usually was to get away from you.

A date.

A date could mean anything, especially with Edward. You were excited by the prospect, the thought that he might have put into planning something in secrecy. Sinking into the sofa, you considered why it needed to be a surprise at all. Immediately, your mind rushed to the most unlikely of scenarios.

Maybe he was going to express his emotions, properly, and fully.

A date.

Somewhere different, somewhere, potentially, romantic. Where he might tell you how much he cared for you. How much he even…

It felt so unlikely, you thought, because you couldn’t even let yourself imagine him saying it to you. It was ridiculous, the notion that he might be planning on telling you he loved you. A big gesture, a confession that would make your heart skip a beat. Despite that, you could feel your hopes getting set up for what you knew would be a disappointment. Yet, you managed to avoid pestering him about it all day. You were sure, however, that he could feel your eyes boring into the back of his head as you stared at him, trying to coax even just a hint out of him psychically. In fact, you had been so focused on figuring it out that he had caught you in a moment of concentration that night, shocking you out of your trance.

“Ready?”

“Ready? For?”

“I asked you to be ready. For your surprise.”

The time seemed to have flown by, regardless of how slow it seemed to have been to you earlier in the day.

“Oh! Yes, yes I’m ready. I’ve been ready all day.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked you up and down taking in the outfit you were wearing. It wasn’t exactly smart, it was just the clothes you usually wore to do work. You hadn’t really thought he might be taking you somewhere nice. You’d imagined this as more of an abandoned trainyard sort of surprise.

“Is… this not appropriate? You didn’t say where we were going, so I didn’t think-”

“No, it’s fine. Please, let’s just go.”

Entirely silent during the car journey, Eddie remained quiet when you questioned him upon arrival at your destination.

“The Orphanage? Abandoned orphanage? This is the surprise?”

You were pissed at his judgement of your outfit. What difference did it make if he was bringing you here, to an abandoned, creepy building. He only looked back briefly, offering a strange smile before turning and heading inside the building, unlocking it with a large, rusted key. Something in his knowing grin, sleek and sinister, like he was about to wow you, made your heart giddy. As you rushed to catch up with him, your imagination ran wild. What was waiting for you inside? Candles? Hundreds of them? Or neon lights? A space decorated in true Eddie fashion, as romantic as he could muster. But what for? A special announcement? Maybe…

Absolutely not.

You couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Whatever question you had briefly, for the smallest of nano seconds, allowed the idea of to slip over your apparently smooth brain was not going to be asked. Eddie wasn’t that kind of… You weren’t even sure that you were the kind who would…

“Hurry up then!”

Eddie turned to you as you hovered near the front entrance, staring at you down the short hallway to another set of double doors he was holding open just a crack. His quick, snapping voice was enough to convince you that this wasn’t going to be the romantic surprise you had hoped for, but you hurried to catch up with him regardless. It was still Eddie. He was still trying to surprise you. So you were still excited. But it all fell apart when you reached the door and he opened it wide.

The large hall was scattered with debris, plant life growing on the walls which were covered in Eddie’s signature spray paint graffiti and notes, and gadgets, tools, and shards of metal lined the square floor.

“Tah-dah!”

Eddie spread his arm out wide, displaying the room to you with an excited and smug grin. You weren’t quite sure how to respond, and your silence was enough to deflate him to the point of irritation.

“Well! Aren’t you going to say anything? Congratulate me? Faint in surprise and wonder?”

“I would… if I knew what I was looking at.”

Bringing his fingers to his face, he tensed them on the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath to control his imminent rage before he spoke to you.

“This is it. My masterpiece. The finale! My greatest work!”

You took another long slow glance around the room, wondering what it was going to amount to, if anything, when he had finished working on it. And not willing to waste any more time waiting on you to congratulate him or to see the point, Eddie continued, offering a slow and patronising explanation which droned on and on. By the time he had finished, you had barely registered and had to quickly offer him something as he stood staring at you expectantly.

“It’s definitely… definitely… uh…”

“This is where I will defeat Batman. This is where I will entrap his feline frienemy, as you may put it, to lure that sentimentally burdened oaf into my web of danger. And you have nothing to say!?”

While you knew how important his ultimately futile attempts were, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had thought about anything beyond them. And though it really didn’t feel like the right time to ask, your words were passing over your lips before you could stop them.

“Eddie… do you ever think about the future?”

“Yes, obviously. I’m consistently at least four and a half steps ahead of everyone else, and it would be more if we weren;t tied down by chance and random opportunity.”

“What do you… plan for?”

“I plan to capture Batman. I plan to watch him die. I plan to be the most revered man in the world.”

“Yeah, but… other than that, what do you see?”

Eddie paused for a moment, clearly stumped by your line of questioning, but refusing to admit as much. He always had the answer, or at least he always pretended to, even if it was just buying himself some time.

“I see my legacy. I see-”

“Eddie, look where we are.”

Another brief second of consideration as his eyes passed over the surroundings. Children’s toys, rusted and broken, childish scribbles next to his own.

“I… children? As in, my own… chil-”

“Oh, god no! I just meant that this is a lot of effort you’ve put into one aspect of your entire being, one part of your masterplan. What do you do after this? And…”

You considered the vulnerability that your next question came with, the devastation it could cause, but you committed to it.

“... who are you doing it with?”

For the first time in his life, Edward felt truly stumped. His entire relationship with you, while it had always been a source of confusion, had always been fraught with his terrified self-awareness, the fact that he knew he cared about you deeply, even if he couldn’t face that answer immediately. But this? This was a question without an answer. One he hadn’t considered yet, because it might be the only thing he had never quite been secure about. So, disappointingly, his answer had to be truthful.

“I don’t know.”

Of course, Eddie had only been answering in response to the first part of your query. He felt it was a certainty that whatever he was intending to do next would include you, if you would join him, of course. But he neglected to express that much. So, as you watched him face up to the foggy, uncertainty of his future, you could only assume that he wasn’t sure how long he might let you stick around.

“Well, this hasn’t quite been the great reveal I hoped it would be.”

Disheartened, obviously so, Eddie reached a hand out and placed it on your shoulder as he let his statement linger in the stale air.

“Perhaps an abandoned orphanage isn’t the romantic date location I thought it might be.”

You laughed, trying to force a smile onto your face. However long you might have left with Eddie, you were determined to let it be positive.

“You stick to a theme, Eddie. I have to give you credit for that.”

Eddie was grateful for your smile, for the way you were willing to let some of his misdeeds go ignored, or at least placed to the side for the moment. Both of you were compromising, letting yourselves be happy instead of tense and on edge. He might be unsure about everything else in life, but he was steadfast in his determination to keep you by his side, and if that meant letting you be disappointed in him, or allow you to get away with not giving his grand ideas the recognition and praise they deserved, then so be it. You were worth the vain on his forehead protruding slightly as he held what he would secretly admit to be pointless anger inside. And in a show of “no hurt feelings”, he moved his hand to your other shoulder, pulling you closer to him, into his side, as he spoke.

“Would a detour to the drive thru of Bat Burger on the way home make it any better?”

“And I get to decide on the movie we watch?”

He sighed, furrowing his brows. He’d do anything for you, but you really tested his limits sometimes.

“Provided you write me an essay on the impressiveness of my work here, due on my desk in the morning, then yes.”

Reaching out your hand to him, you waited for him to grab it.

“Deal.”

He took your palm and held it tight, not shaking it, just holding, looking into your eyes as though he were searching for resentment, disappointment, something that told him why you hadn;t received his genius the way he had expected, the way you usually did.

“Deal.”

In confusion, with strange feelings bubbling under the surface of happiness you were both pushing to the top, you left the orphanage together, intent on having a pleasant evening. You hoping to create positive memories before Eddie let you go. Eddie hoping to create positive memories that might convince you that it was worth staying.

#finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse #finnie yotn

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onlyshestandsthere · 2 months

Text

Title: be my mirror (my sword and shield)

Chapter: 37/40

Pairing: Jade Claymore/Kit Tanthalos

Tags: Enemies to Lovers//Slow Burn//Kit gets taken instead of Airk//Bone Reaver Jade Claymore//Hurt/Comfort//PTSD//Psychological Torture//Amputation//Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary:

Angry blue eyes glared at Jade from beneath short dark locks that fell into her face. Sharp cheekbones, straight nose, and a strong jaw gave her an imperious air, and despite the fact that she was shorter than Jade – and tied to a tree – she still somehow gave the impression that she was looking down at her. This was even more impressive given the entire left side of her face was one massive bruise, and her eye was swollen almost completely shut.

Or: Bone Reaver Jade is tasked with escorting a prisoner to the Immemorial City for their new ally, the Crone.

#Tanthamore #Tanthamore Fic #Kit Tanthalos #Jade Claymore #Willow #Willow 2022 #BMMMSAS #So close you guys

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blueiskewl · 1 year

Photo

The 52-Foot-Long Book of the Dead Papyrus from Ancient Egypt

Egypt has released photos of a newly discovered Book of the Dead from more than 2,000 years ago.

Egyptian officials have released photos of an ancient scroll, the 52-foot-long (16 meters) Book of the Dead papyrus recently discovered in Saqqara. The 10 images show ancient illustrations of gods and scenes from the afterlife, as well as text on the document, which is more than 2,000 years old.

Archaeologists discovered the Book of the Dead papyrus within a coffin in a tomb near the Step Pyramid of Djoser and announced the discovery on Jan. 14 for Egyptian Archaeologists Day, but this is the first time they've released images of the scroll to the public.

It was not unusual for ancient Egyptians to bury the Book of the Dead with the deceased, but they didn't call it that at the time. Rather, modern archaeologists coined the term "Book of the Dead" to refer to a collection of texts that ancient Egyptians thought would help guide the dead in the afterlife.

Papyrus for the dead

The 52-foot-long scroll was found at Saqqara in May 2022. It contains chapters from the Book of the Dead. It was recently restored and translated into Arabic and is now on display at The Egyptian Museum in Cairo. The text is written in hieratic, a script derived from hieroglyphs.

All rolled up

The papyrus was found rolled up in a coffin belonging to a man named Ahmose (not to be confused with a pharaoh who lived in earlier times). The man's name is mentioned in the papyrus about 260 times, the researchers said. He lived around 300 B.C., near the beginning of the Ptolemaic dynasty, a dynasty of pharaohs descended from one of Alexander the Great's generals.

Carefully unrolled

A team of researchers performed extensive conservation work so they could unroll the papyrus. Ahmose's tomb is located south of the step pyramid, built for Djoser, a pharaoh from the third dynasty who ruled from about 2630 B.C. to 2611 B.C. While this pyramid was built long before the time of Ahmose, it wasn't unusual to find Ahmose's tomb there, as people in ancient Egypt sometimes liked to be buried near the pyramids of long dead pharaohs.

Analyzing the scroll

The unrolled papyrus is seen here. It was written in black and red ink, and the quality of the writing indicates that it was written by a professional, researchers said. Despite the size of the scroll, there are longer Book of the Dead texts known from Egypt. For instance, a Book of the Dead papyrus, which is now in the British Museum, was originally 121 feet (37 m) long.

Book of the Dead on display

The unrolled papyrus on display at The Egyptian Museum in Cairo.

Ancient illustrations

This Book of the Dead text also contains illustrations. This image appears to show Osiris, the ancient Egyptian god of the underworld. In Egyptian mythology, Osiris' life was ritually restored after he died — something that ancient Egyptians hoped would happen to them in the afterlife.

The deity Osiris

This image shows more details about Osiris. He is shown sitting on a throne while wearing an "Atef" crown, a type of crown often gracing the head of Osiris. There appear to be offerings before him, as well as a creature who may be Ammit, a deity who consumed anyone who was not worthy of being ritually restored in the afterlife.

Husband and wife

This image appears to depict offerings and a scene of a couple venerating Egyptian deities. This couple may be Ahmose and his wife (whose name is not known). Not much is known of Ahmose, but he was wealthy enough to have an elaborate copy of the Book of the Dead made for him.

Leading the cow

A number of scenes are illustrated in this section of the Book of the Dead. At the far left, a cow appears to be led somewhere — perhaps to be given as an offering. A number of images depict boats, which could be used to navigate the underworld.

Weighing against a feather

This close-up shows a creature, possibly Ammit, sitting before Osiris. In ancient Egyptian mythology, the heart of the deceased is weighed against the feather of Maat, a god associated with truth, justice and order. If the person's bad deeds in life were great, their heart would be heavier than the feather, and Ammit would devour the deceased.

By Owen Jarus.

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coweye · 1 year

Text

Commitment Issues - Part 8

Pairing: Benjamin Miller x Reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: When you try and take your friends with benefits relationship to the next level, Benny’s response isn’t quite what you were expecting.

AN: So I lied - I'm so sorry for the wait! Recently, writing hasn't come as easy to me and although it's almost a year late I hope you enjoy, this isn't the final chapter - I lied twice.

➢ fic masterpost

PREVIOUS PART

28th April 2022 - 37 weeks pregnant

Life playing host to the parasite that was soon to be your daughter had only gotten worse. Hard to believe, I know.

The gift that kept on giving made sure that you’d suddenly without any warning whatsoever have the overwhelming urge to vomit.

There was no rhyme or reason to her neat new little party trick but at any given moment your stomach said nope and you bought up whatever you happened to have eaten or as the case may be; be eating at the time.

Honestly, you weren’t a negative person by nature, but these agonizing eight months had taken it out of you.

Hell, you were in the process of drafting an eviction notice if this kid didn’t get out of you in the next two weeks.

Long story short, between this and the Benny situation you were not exactly the best of company, right now.

The boys and Val had all learnt this early on and for the past eight days, you had given up all pretense of a brave face, now you were bleeding and letting everyone who would listen know about it.

When Santiago, who had decided to stay in town until the birth of your baby, suggested a stroll around the mall, you had fixed him with the stare that would have had a lesser man running back to Colombia with his tail between his legs. Until, of course, he had sweetened the deal with fried chicken, his treat and coincidentally the only meal that you had yet to regurgitate.

So, here you found yourself with Santiago and William and a six piece bucket to yourself.

The change in company was a welcome distraction from dwelling on your non-existent love life at home with the love of your life.

After the thorn in your side that was Jasmine, reared her ugly head at the baby shower, you had pulled back into your protective bubble of distant and cold.

Benny, though confused about the message, received it loud and clear as he returned to the swing to find you inside and talking incredibly heatedly to Valerie. In the eight days that followed, he yet to confront you about it. Apparently old habits died hard..

The camaraderie that had come hand in hand with your truce had dissolved. You weren’t actively unpleasant, but you didn’t melt into his side, or nap on the couch with him anymore.

You had established boundaries, resolving yourself to the simple philosophy of anything you wouldn’t do with Frankie, you wouldn’t do with Ben.

It was simple… well kind of, every one of your moves was carefully calculated and exhausting.

For example, lying on the couch watching a movie with a leg rub? Acceptable.

Frankie would do that for your swollen ankle joint, hell, he had done.

However, lying on the couch with his body sandwiched against yours as you fall asleep, the hardness of him pressed into your backside; well… that was quite clearly a no, but I digress!

Boundaries were established and what almost was, had been completely and totally healthily avoided at all costs, creating the exact tenuous home environment you'd spent so long trying to avoid.

So, here you found yourself in the food court, slamming some fried chicken trying desperately to forget your woes.

“She’s too clingy…” Santi huffed in between a bite of his burger, talking mostly to Will as you had yet to peak up from behind your bucket.

“Maybe she just likes you and wants to spend time with you, god forbid someone shows interest.” You grunted irritably between bites, looking for a fight.

Both men turned to you in surprise, the whites of their eyes visible as they feared your outburst.

Santiago strategically paused as he searched for the right words before he began to speak again.

“You’re right … Maybe I’m too harsh.” Pope placated as he fixed you with a look of reproach, however, that only served to enrage you further.

He watched for your reaction as if you were an angry bear or a child throwing a tantrum. Truth be told, you weren’t strictly unlike either of those things at that precise moment.

Your brows narrowed, ready to unload and tell him all the reasons he was a dick before a cramping pain in your bloated abdomen overwhelmed you. Your eyes clenched shut as you breathed heavily through your nose, your ringed fingers gripped at the circular table in pain.

It was impossible for you to judge how long went by before the pain finally passed.

You took a further second or two to even your breathing before you resumed eating, succinctly dropping the subject that had injected fire into your veins merely moments before.

With a fry in your mouth, you glanced up to find both men watching you.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you okay?” They questioned in unison.

A moment passed as you swallowed your mouthful before you concisely answered your comrades. “I’m pretty sure I’m going into labor.”

“And … you don’t think we should be actively doing something about that?” Santiago pressed, looking as if he was ready to bolt.

“Labor can take hours and I won't be able to eat once it gets going…” You shrug, picking up another piece of chicken.

“What’s wrong with you?” Pope breathed, eyes wide before he palmed in his eye sockets in frustration, attempting to rub the stress you induced away.

Will had dragged his chair to your side, his eyes focused on his watch.

“Don’t worry so much… the book said until they're ten minutes apart … there’s no point going … to the hospital!” You explain in between bites of greasy chicken.

Your words do little to quell their panic as both men look as if they're ready to pull their hair out with worry.

“I’ll ring Ben.” Santi groaned as he stood up and reached into his jacket pocket before fishing out his phone. He turned dramatically with a finger pointed in your general direction. “You get her to hurry up - I swear to god, Y/N. If you’re eating when I get back, pregnant or not, I’ll drag you to that car. You’re not having your baby in the damn food court… estúpida, obstinada…” The man continued grunting curses at your expenses as he stalked off for somewhere quiet with cell reception to call the father of your child.

The silence that extended all of three minutes was too good to be true as Will watched your face as you ate for any sign of distress.

“Whilst giving Pope a coronary is always a good time… don’t you think we should go and get your bag and meet Ben?” Will’s voice was soft, the kind of soothing tone you’d seen him use to talk down shell shocked soldiers - it was both unassuming and laced with copious amounts of compassion.

You’d be damned if it didn’t just piss you right off.

With a quick shake of your head, you dropped the empty bone into the bucket with the rest of the carcasses and took a long sip of your drink.

“I’m good here … I can meet you guys there if you like?”

The pinch in his brow was quite simply incredulous, his concern was quickly outweighing his patience.

“If you think I’m leaving you both here, you’re insane.”

Chewing on the straw of your drink; your eyes locked with his. They were brimming with a concoction of confusion and concern, which if the clench in his jaw was anything to go by, was slowly morphing into exasperation at your lack of compliance.

“I … just need some time.”

“Y/N. All you’ve spoken about for the past week is how you want this to be over, wish granted - she’s coming and she’s coming now.”

“That’s what he said…” You uttered half-heartedly under your breath as you broke eye contact, no longer able to face his look of bewilderment.

On the red tray in front of you was a lemon scented wet wipe hidden among napkins and sauces, you tore open the former and gratuitously began scrubbing the grease off of your hands, actively ignoring the perplexed stare of one of your closest friends.

“Y/N, we need to get moving… will you just stop and listen?” Will snapped finally as he grabbed the wipe from your grip as you passed over your digits for the third time.

Your own patience had reached its end as his hand gripped your elbow, his intention to make good on Santiago’s threat and drag you out, clear and present in your mind.

The devil in question was making his way back to your table, all quick strides as he dodged the food courts clientele.

You wrenched your arm from his grip huffing in annoyance at the well meaning Miller.

“Fine. Let's go and get my bag, maybe we can grab an iced tea on the way to the car…”

Will nodded but you knew the mother hen would never allow a diversion from the mission at hand.

All was going well.

You were compliant as you strode through the mall, both men flanking you like a high priority asset as you clambered into Santi’s rental truck.

Hell, you were goddamn amenable as you unlocked your front door and grabbed the hospital duffel bag from the cubby under the stairs.

However, your cooperation waned somewhat when heading to the maternity ward as the guys tried to wheel your chair past the hospital's Starbucks.

Your palm, lightening fast, caught the break on the chair causing it to veer left right into Santiago’s shins.

“Ice Tea!”

“You’ve got a baby about to shoot out of your hoo-hah and you're stopping for tea?!” Santi huffed incredulously as he rubbed his shin.

“My contractions are 25 minutes apart, when they’re 15, I’ll consider joining the panicking cry baby club.”

“Panicking baby- huh!” Santi huffed rubbing his forehead. “You are not well, Y/N/N! You’re having a baby - Go and have it and then I’ll bathe you in fucking tea!”

“I’ll come back down and grab you one-” Will placated before Santi bent to remove the break on the chair, allowing Will to move all of two steps, before you slammed it back on, the rubber tyres screeched against the tile floor of the hospital lobby.

“Tea. First.” You huffed much like a troublesome child.

This time it was Will who leaned down to remove the break, having clearly decided you weren’t in your right mind.

So, you did the only thing you could; you threw your baby bag off of your lap.

“Y/N, stop being a goddamn child!” Will huffed, you had clearly pushed him to the edge, not that it had been particularly hard.

Ignoring him, you began to stand. They both watched on in horror as you slowly ambled your way to the end of the queue.

Leaning against the drinks fridge, you sighed.

Your spine was aching something awful. The poor timing of this kid resumed as a contraction wracked your body, sharper than the others, it felt longer but you had no way to be sure.

Will was at your side the second it overcame your body.

“Twenty minutes apart, please, Y/N. Come on.”

When finally the pain dissipated, your aching back remained. You weren’t proud of the weight you were placing on Will but the floor was the only other option.

“y/n?! … Y/N!” You heard Benny hollar before you saw him, his eyes were wild with panic as he rushed to your side. He patted his brother on the shoulder, before taking his place. “Baby, what are you doing? You need to get into bed.”

“I want… my … tea.” You huffed, breathing not yet evening out.

“Fine, we get the tea and we go straight up. How far apart are they?”

“Twen-”

The gush of amniotic fluid leaving your body cut the older Miller off, soaking through your jeans and unfortunately onto Benny’s shoes.

“You just pissed, she just pissed!” Santi cried in disbelief, his hands an almost permanent fixture in his disheveled curls at this point. It was hard to believe this man was a pressure player.

“It's not piss, it's her waters. We need to go, I’m sorry baby, you can have all the ice tea you want when it's safe for you both.” He bent down and caught your sodden legs, picking you up in one sweep.

If you weren’t currently covered in amniotic fluid, that story book firefighter carry would have set your loins ablaze.

Who were you kidding?

You were absolutely drenched in amniotic fluid and your loins were practically smoking.

Between writhing in pain as your uterus contracted to eject a literal watermelon and lusting over your baby daddy who you had spent the last eight days practically snarling at every time he dared advance, the journey to your delivery suite had been all but a blur.

Somehow all three men surrounded you, having coerced their way through the midwifery staff with their nefarious charm.

“How ya’ doing champ?” Santi questioned as you huffed on the oxygen inhaler handed to you by your midwife. A thumbs up was all you could offer as you groaned through the contractions that were now give or take five minutes apart.

“How about we use a bit of gravity?” The woman in control of the drugs questioned. A suggestion you were only more than happy to try.

Following her instructions and with minor assistance from Ben you were now on all fours, frantically inhaling the gas and air.

“We’re going to need to clear the room, anyone who isn’t the father needs to leave.”

You were so far gone, you didn’t care if they saw the business end of your cervix. All you knew was uncontrollable pain that wracked your body every five minutes like a sadistic egg timer.

Ben wiped at your forehead with a damp towel as tears escaped.

“You can do this, baby.”

“UGNGH.. It feels like I’m shitting a knife!” You cried as another contraction wracked your body.

“Not long now, gorgeous. Then we’ll have our baby.”

“I’m not ready.” You cried burying your face in the reclined back of the bed. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“You are-”

“No. We’re not ready. Things were … supposed to be fixed… I promised her.”

“Wha-”

“I love you, you stupid fucking idiot. I have done for like ten years… loved you from the second I heard your tone deaf ass singing that … crappy hick song on base. Ungh… And everything is so broken because I don’t want you … to just stay for the Bean, I want to be with you … because you want to be with me.” You cried, tears wracking your body as uncontrollably as the contractions.

“It’s all broken… I promised her and I fucked it all up. You … and Jaz can just live happily ever-” You cut yourself off with a low wail as another contraction wracked your body. It seemed to knock Benny out of his stupor as his hand rubbed your lower back.

It was a moment before you leveled out and remembered you were divulging your innermost thoughts but a moment ago, though you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Bigger fish to fry, and all that.

“I love you. Even if you are the goddamn most stubborn fuckin’ idiot I’ve ever met. You're the mama of my baby, yeah. It scares the crap outta me. Loving you. Damn near spent three months thinking up all the reasons we couldn’t be together cause it scared me so bad.” He huffed, stroking your hair. He helped you reposition on your back, as you breathed in another wave of oxygen. “I love you, Y/N. - I don’t do this. I don’t do relationships … because this feeling in my stomach when I think of you is fuckin awful. Sure I get the tingles when you smile at me or stroke my arm. But ninety-nine percent of the time, fucking nightmare, I worry if you’re happy, if you’ve eaten and now we’re adding an whole ass entire other person into this fucking clown show.”

“Gee… thanks.” You huffed in between breaths of gas and air.

Ben chuckled as he pushed the sweat sodden hair back from your brow. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours, the kiss was brief and nowhere near what was needed but it was all you could manage.

It was enough, you thought at that moment.

The promise, that everything wasn’t lost, there was hope ahead, it carried you through.

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