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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Right Hand Woman | Part Two

Summary; your father is dead, just as you and Loki had planned. All that stands in the way of your reign over both the Cold Shores and Asgard, is your partner’s one eyed adopted parent.

Warnings; mentions of death, deception, brief smut (oral sex, fem receiving), attempts of murder

QUICK LINK TO MY MASTERLIST, IN CASE YOU’RE INTERESTED IN READING MORE OF MY CRAP 😬

Frigga frowned, suspecting something the moment that she caught Loki sneaking into her and Odin’s chambers. It was not wise to trust the boy so easily, whilst she felt tremendous love towards her found son, he was the god of mischief.

And so she watched him from the corner, cloaked by her own witted spell, and studied how he rummaged through the room. “Damn you father!” He whisper shouted to himself, and that was whence his witch of a mother made her presence known.

A soft yet malleable frown cast over Loki’s sly features, as he gulped inherently. “What is it that burdens you my boy?” If only she knew the full extension of the answer to that, but he would not curse her with the details.

“Odin.” That was how he labelled him as; the king. Not his father. “The man that you are wedded to has hidden the book of counsel once again from me. If I wish to be a husband, then I must read and study its contents, for it is not everyday that anyone from the nine realms marries a god.”

With relief indulging her airway, Frigga sighed. At least he was searching for something worthwhile, rather than an item or clue that could get him in attentive trouble.

“Loki.” His name surpassed the barrier of her bewitched lips, earning her child’s attention. “I shall find it for you, but be aware that there is no rush to become one with y/n so soon. It is certain that she is still experiencing the shock and mourning of her father.”

An inclination to smirk at the mention of the dead man arose in Loki’s chest, however he kept his face mute of amusement, and instead, looked up at his favourite parent. She knew, as he noticed his inclination to spill all, that he was holding a secret close to his chest. But he had never been one to be entirely truthful, and so instead of berating him about it, she left him alone.

“I suppose.” He didn’t. It was a white lie in his eyes, but a vast one in the eyes of his family, with the sorrow pent up in y/n. She was far from sad, rather, he was the only one that could see how truly joyous she was concerning the fall of her father.

The small spilt tears were a lie, all to deceive the Odinson tree. Thor was certainly the most gullible of all when witnessing it, he would order the guards to abandon their duties to go and fetch her something to dry her eyes on, and if they were not fast enough, he would do the job himself.

It was truly a sight to behold though as Odin would nurture her with caring phrases, and lay a comforting hand upon her slunk shoulder, praising her for having some sense.

Loki’s family knew that it had been difficult, protecting herself whilst in the meanwhile wearing her father’s blood upon her hands. It showed her loyalty to the youngest of Odin’s sons, and that was what they wanted in a dame.

“That poor girl.” Frigga reminisced all that she had heard regarding the death of the opposing king, that had once been an ally. “Killing her own father, it must have come with some difficulty.”

The man was assured that there had been none, y/n had wanted to do such amends in a great long time. However, she had to wait for the perfect moment, so that Odin could be blessed of the sight of her above her father’s carcass.

“Perhaps, but it has shown me how perfect she is for marriage material. We aren’t even combined into one yet, and she has already proven her loyalty, presenting that she has the same image for Asgard and the Cold Shores in her peripheral.”

His mother, whom was married into the line of the throne, sighed. She felt great pity for y/n, for she felt torn; but ultimately, chose herself over her father’s selfish wishes. And through his actions, y/f/n had broken the contract and his own blessing of allowing Loki to take her hand.

The same image. If there was one thing that Frigga had nervous thoughts about, it was Loki, and his problematic situation in wanting the throne. But to the dismay of the trickster god, it was promised to his brother Thor; the real heir of Odinson royalty. And though Frigga adored Loki as though he were her own son, because essentially he was, her trust in him regarding his hunger to rule Asgard was thin, like a silver platter.

Y/n sat, pondering her decisions. She liked Odin, despite him being like all kings, even if he had turned over a new leaf in the latest centuries. He had adorned the rivers of Valhalla with bloodshed, passing through the nine realms with his weapon unsheathed, pooling blood so that in return he could take the gold that the men and women harboured so slyly.

Her father had done the same thing, but he had been much more humble regarding his lifestyle. A grand and glorious display of buildings had not been considered necessary in y/f/n’s rich eyes. Instead, he opted to remain vigilant, living in hoisted tents, so that he had the freedom to move him and his people about as he pleased.

But he had wanted to depart from his only child, in order to gain another ally, but in doing so, he had lost that trust with Asgard. And now she was the heir of his ruins, but she had left with the man that had reckoned pain upon his people for his treachery.

The only thing that was left in their plan, was to kill Odin. It was rather simple thinking of it, however proceeding to do so would be a far different story. And first, so that their power was in conjunction, her and Loki needed to marry. She found no problem in doing so, especially since it was one of her greatest desires to do so already.

She was laid beneath the sheets of the guest room that was supplied to her, adorned in nothing but her underwear. One feature of her icy homelands that she was used to was the cold. Here, it felt so warm, she felt enclosed by the heat; trapped even.

As a child, she often wore a red nose, hardly feeling the end of it, as snow would balance upon it, and fall around every inch outside of her tent. But in Asgard, a place that she had visited many a time, she was sweltering. A part of her feared that it was a flaw granted by karma, for killing her father.

There was some truth to her lies; he had wanted her to wed another that was not Loki, but she didn’t tell him of whom, knowing that he would grown furious and insecure, and surely take everything that he was feeling out on her competing suitor.

However, she had deceived his father as well, made Odin believe that he was trying to pass y/n onto another kingdom. Instead, y/f/n had been talking of with his lower level colleagues, that he was considering Thor as a replacement for the sorcerer prince.

That was an idea that she was not fond of. Whilst she got along well enough with Thor, she loved Loki, it was simple as that. And she was against anyone, even if it be family, trying to rip apart the contract of her childhood dream; to wed the sneaky, yet charming prince.

Y/n was ripped from her thoughts as knuckles rapped on the display of double doors, that lead into the room that she was currently occupying. “You may enter.” She informed whomever was wishing to see her on the other side, the door groaning open as a sleek and fetching man entered.

Loki made sure to close the barricade behind him, walking closer to his future wife with purpose in each step that he instructed. “Beloved y/n...”

“Did you find it?” She asked, referring to the last piece to fill in their mystical puzzle. Her brow quirked, watching as her to be husband exasperatedly sighed, combing a talented hand through his long black locks.

“No, but my mother has taken upon herself to aid us in doing so.” His green and keen eyes looked down upon her, gently hoisting her to be on her feet by a carefully tugging on her arm.

“This needs to be sped up my love, otherwise they will catch onto our intentions before we can complete them.” Y/n tried to pace, however, Loki kept a grip on her, refraining her from doing so. And so she was kept right before him, in a face to face manner, frozen like the ropes of water by her original home and his birth place.

“Relax for a moment, there needn’t be a rush.” Loki cooed at her, brushing through her hair with an underlying content. “To distract you, I am here, and I will do anything to remove your mind from all that troubles you.”

He lightly pushed down one of her shoulders, making her fall elegantly back on the bed, her bare breasts bouncing as she fell. Loki licked his lips at the sight, raking his cold fingertips up her thighs, parting them to his will. “Did you know that it was me that had intention to pester you at this time, or were you prepared to allow any nimble soldier see you so- so open for their unworthy pupils to devour?”

“I knew it was you Loki.” She rolled her y/e/c eyes, resting on her forearms on the fresh fabric, that rubs tenderly against her skin. “Otherwise, I’d have not answered, making them search the grounds for me until they persisted you with having an inability to find me.”

“Little minx.” Loki smirked, rubbing softly on the insides of your thighs. He crept closer, collapsing between y/n’s spread legs, rutting his covered cock over the promise that came with marriage. “I cannot wait for us to bind together in an established union, that will be recognised by all, and we will never be mistake for a pair of lovesick fools ever again.”

“And when we reign, all will know that we are not to be reckoned with.” Y/n reached up, guiding his hands lower. “But until then, I want you to ruin me, until I am screaming loud enough for all the habitants in nearby rooms to hear.” Her eyes were glazed, Loki licked his lips as he swept down, casting his mouth passionately upon hers.

His raven tendrils swayed around them like a curtain, enclosing their faces in an intimate proximity. Whilst his mouth explored her own, content sighs renegading from his lover’s busy mouth, his hands slipped down, finding penance at her waist.

They traced the outline of her underwear, teasingly moving underneath the sides, making y/n flutter with anticipation. Her cheeks grew warm as she looked down at her partner in treachery, letting out a startled gasp whence he ripped the seams, discarding of the useless material.

He ran his slippery, cursing lips up her leg, tracing them sensually around the budding lips of her pussy. Y/n nestled her head into the comfort below, watching with Loki with dazed eyes, that were heavily plagued by the dreariness of her lids.

“By the gods!” In an instant, he had suctioned his mouth around her entirety, suckling with his cat like pupils boring up at his lover in ecstasy. He always got what he wanted, and he would marry this princess, and then, their journey throughout royalty would continue.

The occasion had finally arrived. Odin stood at the centre of the platform, between the two lovers. With gratitude to his mother Frigga, Loki sent her a pleased nod, before once more tuning his attention back onto his lovely fiancé.

All of Asgard watched dearly from below, holding onto their kings every word as he spoke the age old coronation into a pairing’s vows. His speech was slow, and it made y/n slightly antsy.

She wanted to marry Loki, and despite going through the prior orchestration of doing so, she wanted nothing more than for the process to speed itself up. But she remained silent, and apparently patient to all that stared with fawning smiles.

It wasn’t everyday that the royals were wed, and the citizens of the plain were in for a treat. It was something that was viewed sparingly, for their children that would be procreated in the distant future would hear tales of such a collision of two people, not actually baring witness to the ongoing.

Odin cleared his ancient throat, folding the scroll back into its exterior, and declared the emission and final act. “Y/n, of the cold shores, do you take my son, Loki, to be your partner for as long as you live?”

“I do, King Odin.” Her childhood dreams were being brought to light, after all this time. They had waited a thousand years for this exact moment, and every second that she had thought and not acted on it had been essentially worth it.

Loki stood across from her, their hands intertwined in the space between their bodies. There was a glimmer sparkling in his devious eyes, and y/n gulped at the sight of it. As happy as she felt, there was a brewing in the pit of her stomach, for she knew the god far too well.

“Loki, of Asgard, do you take the woman before you, y/n, to be your wife for your eternity?” The green eyed prince smiled across at her, giving her shaking fingers a comforting squeeze.

“I do, father.”

“Then, you may kiss your partner to seal the vow.” Y/n had an exhausting smile pinching her cheeks, and as Loki swiftly removed his hands from her own, she moved closer.

But that look had returned, and before she could stop him, he had slipped a blade out from his sleeve, and directed its spear tip towards Odin. This was not the time or the place for the violence, but the deed was done; they were exposed.

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hlizr50 · 3 years

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Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 4

Gwyn is coping. Merrill is the worst. Az is... Az.

Read on AO3

Gwyn rubbed her eyes, the book spines blurring in front of her. It didn’t help that she’d been banished to one of the lower levels, where the dark creeped between the stacks and threatened to follow her. It also didn’t help that she had barely slept the night before. And that she’d come to the library straight from training.

It had been six days since she’d woken up bleary-eyed after Azriel had left her in the rain. And, as she’d thought, things were better. She had thrown herself into training and work, but she felt good about how she was managing.

She was tired.

But she could deal with that.

Merrill, of course, had sunk her claws into Gwyn’s wounds almost immediately, but she knew how to handle the haughty, hateful priestess. The first few days had been rough, but she sang to herself through the extra hours she spent in the library and let the melodies accompany her as she shelved and retrieved the tomes Merrill had demanded.

Azriel had even returned to training, which was oddly comforting despite this new distance between them. It was almost normal again – Cassian with the advanced females and Azriel with the novices. Neither of them lingered after like they used to, but she couldn’t help stealing a glance or two in his direction.

She would have to work on that.

With the last book shelved and her cart filled with new volumes for the white-haired priestess, Gwyn began the trek back up the ramp. She tried not to think about what Merrill would say when she found out that Gwyn couldn’t locate one of the tomes on the shelves. She’d looked at every pile left on a table or desk but couldn’t locate it. If she hadn’t already taken too long she would have started inquiring with every priestess she could find –

“Where is that miserable girl?”

The freckles on Gwyn’s nose bunched as she scowled, Merrill’s screech echoing over the ramps. She inhaled deeply and breathed out her sigh, steeling herself for the encounter.

“I’m on my way, sister!” Her legs burned with the extra effort it took to push the cart laden with leather-bound parchment. With her extra time in the library – to help her minimize the time when she was idle and alone – her body was still adjusting to the additional walking, pushing, and lifting.

Library work really was good conditioning.

Merrill was no longer at the rail when she reached level four so Gwyn pushed the cart through the stacks and down the hall to the sister’s office. Papers and books were strewn about, and the copper-haired priestess wondered how she could possibly keep everything straight. Of course, she’d had Gwyn to help – that was how.

“I hope you found the time between frolicking and singing to do what I asked of you?”

“Merrill, I was fully focused on your task,” she searched for a way to satisfy the female. “The work just makes me so happy I can’t help but sing.” Gwyn pasted a bright smile on her face as she lugged a stack into the office, searching for any clear surface that might hold them.

“Foolish Gwyneth,” Merrill hissed, not deigning to look at her. “Have you ever thought that some of the females here don’t want your songs thrust upon them? Have you ever thought about how they might feel seeing you so joyous when they cannot be?”

The younger priestess stilled, arms growing heavy with the weight of the tomes in her grasp. She hadn’t considered that, ever. The library was a place of sanctuary and healing, and she had been experiencing those things. She had never noticed if any of the other sisters were affected by it. Surely Clotho would have mentioned something to her if there had been complaints.

“Selfish, wretched girl.”

Gwyn sighed and set the books down as gently as she could on the corner of a small end table.

“I couldn’t find the third volume of The Continent. One of the other priestesses must have it. But I’m going to inquire with them now.” She turned to leave, hoping she could make it before the wintry female could toss more vitriol at her.

“Pathetic, Gwyneth. To prance around happy and content when you can’t even perform your basic duties. When you play at being strong and brave yet can’t manage to leave the library. You should learn that you are not special. You are utterly plain and ordinary and you should behave as such.” Gwyn kept walking although her shoulders sagged. She knew she wasn’t special – had never thought herself better than anyone else. But she also knew she wasn’t ordinary. She had been training in combat for more than a year. She counted some of the most powerful fae in Prythian among her friends. She had won the Illyrian Blood Rite.

But Merrill, of course – the cunning white witch – had snagged a claw in one of her buried insecurities and dangled it before her, as if it were on display for all to see. Gwyn still wasn’t comfortable with venturing into the city, for all of her growth and accomplishments. She walked proudly most days with a smile pulling at her lips, secure in her body and strength and heart. But somehow Merrill always knew what to say, where to push and prod. She had joked with Nesta that she must be daemati and would just gaze into Gwyn’s mind as if it were her own.

Nesta had just said she was a bitchy old crone stuck in a fae body, doomed to live for a near-eternity, and she was just bitter about being alive for so long.

The priestess grinned to herself as she went in search of… well, anyone. She pictured the list of females that she would have to check off, one by one, to ensure she found the missing volume. She was nimbly navigating the stacks when a familiar voice reached her.

“Gwyn! Somehow I knew I’d find you still here.” Gwyn paused and turned toward Nesta’s call, smiling wide at her Valkyrie sister. She noticed how the eldest Archeron had started wearing her hair down and smiling easily, and Gwyn felt her heart swell to see happiness reflected in those once-frigid eyes.

“Nesta,” she sighed as they met for an embrace. “What brings you down here at this hour?”

“Well you weren’t in your room,” Nesta fixed her with a pointed look before echoing, “at this hour. You’ve been working a lot.” Not an assessment, nor an observation. Just a statement to the priestess, a signal that she was onto her.

Gwyn flashed the most convincing serene smile she could muster and beckoned for her friend to walk with her. If Merrill caught her dilly-dallying she was as good as dead. “Merrill has been very demanding lately. Spending more time here helps me accomplish more and helps me make sure she gets what she needs.” She avoided Nesta’s skeptical reaction, knowing full well the look in those eyes would burn right through her defenses.

“So… you’re working yourself to exhaustion to appease that witch?”

Gwyn couldn’t very well admit that she needed to stay occupied, or that her exhaustion wasn’t just because of long working hours.

“You know how much I value her research, Nesta. It’s worth a little extra effort.” The two warriors continued to wander through the stacks, Gwyn making sure to eyeball every stray pile of books in search of volume three of The Continent.

“Well, tomorrow night you’re taking off,” Nesta mused, breaking the companionable silence. The young priestess halted, mouth opening to argue. “You’re spending the night with Emerie and me.”

“Nesta –“

“No, Gwyn. You’ve been working constantly, barely talking to us after training. We miss you.” She gave Gwyn the most un-Nesta-like face, pouting her lower lip and widening those ice-gray eyes. “Pretty please, Gwynnie?”

“Oh you know I hate when you call me that,” Gwyn huffed. But her nose crinkled with her grin as she reached up and pinched her friend’s cheek. “How could I say no to that face, though?” The Valkyries giggled together and Nesta leaned in to kiss her sister’s cheek.

“Perfect. Six o’clock, the House library. We’ll have dinner and dessert and books and Mother knows what else.” Gwyn smiled as Nesta gave her a look. “Don’t work too late, Gwyn. You’re tired. I can tell.”

“Oh, quit worrying you busybody,” she shooed Nesta away as she stuck out her tongue. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

~~~

Azriel paced around the group of novices, shrewdly observing footwork, weight distribution, and body position as they moved through their stretching and grounding exercises. Despite his neutral expression he was relatively impressed. It wasn’t like him to offer praise in the training ring – that was more Cassian’s and Gwyn’s nature – but he could acknowledge consistent improvement he was seeing.

“Alright, take a break,” he let his voice rise into the summer afternoon. “Get some water. We’ll start working core in a few minutes.” The shadowsinger quirked his lip as he ignored their groans and strode over to the other side of the training ring, where his shadows had been pulling him. They had been particularly insistent since he returned to training, eager to be nearer to a certain priestess after so long apart. Cassian stood, arms crossed, observing the sparring matches between the advance females. Gwyn and Nesta were a blur of punches, feints, and footwork as Azriel stopped next to the general.

“Berdara is sluggish. Watch,” Cassian muttered, and Az forced his gaze toward that ribbon-tied hair shining like copper in the sun. Even with her face red with exertion he could see the bruise-like circles under her eyes and the tightness in her features. Her breathing was ragged, shoulders slouched, weight too far on her heels.

“She’s dropped her left elbow every time she side-steps. She’s lucky Nesta hasn’t targeted that shoulder.” Azriel tried to sound like the seasoned teacher and watchful warrior, not belying the concern blooming within him.

“She’s lucky she’s talented enough with hand-to-hand. If they had weapons I would sideline her,” the general growled, frustrated. “It’s not safe for her to fight in that condition.” As soon as he said it Nesta’s foot connected with Gwyn’s shoulder. She swiped the priestess’ feet out from under her as she staggered and she fell with a resounding thud on her back. Azriel winced as he tried to control his twirling shadows – they wanted to go to her, to make sure she was okay. It was an effort not to give in to them.

“Water, you two!” Cassian called over as Nesta and Emerie pulled Gwyn to her feet. The spymaster’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. She bent over, hands braced on her knees, panting. Likely that fall had knocked the wind out of her. He looked up in time to see Nesta approaching, water in hand.

“Well fought, Archeron.” Azriel dipped his chin, acknowledging her effort.

“No. I’m not going to claim that victory.” She shook her head before looking to her mate. “She’s not herself.”

The shadowsinger bristled and his shadows seemed to twitch around him.

“What’s going on with her, then?” Cassian asked.

“I’m not sure. I know she’s working double shifts in the library. I’m not sure how she’s sleeping but she seems tired.” Nesta looked between the two Illyrians. “Even if she’s sleeping fine, spending extra time getting berated by Merrill can’t be healthy.”

Azriel grimaced. The priestess – Merrill – had a reputation, to be sure. And to hear that Gwyn was putting herself under so much stress was alarming. He glanced back across the ring and studied her. No laughter, no shining smile.

“I’ve staged an intervention for tonight. She’s spending the night here with me and Emerie.” Azriel felt Nesta’s eyes on him as she spoke. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.” When he dared to glance to the side he found them both with shrewd stares centered on him.

“What?” He knew his attempt at nonchalance was pitiful.

“Nothing to offer, Azriel? No thoughts you’d like to share?” Nesta raised her brow to challenge him. Azriel held his mask firmly in place, stoic and cold. But his chest was a chasm, guilt rushing in like a waterfall. He knew… he knew the changes they were seeing were because of him. He turned unseeing eyes across the ring, struggling to find a place to focus. But that copper-spun hair shining in the heat of the afternoon grounded him, a tether to reality. He couldn’t get the sound of her crying out of his head as he took in her wan features and sagging posture. Smoky tendrils settled over his shoulders in resignation.

He had been a fool. A coward.

He had been wrong to walk away.

Azriel turned from Cassian and his mate without a word, ignoring the questioning gazes and the racing thoughts. Instead he slipped into that quiet, observant, demanding presence with the females under his charge.

“Alright, ladies. You’ve had long enough. Time for core.”

He didn’t even grin like he usually did when they begrudgingly obeyed, his mind too full and his soul too empty.

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grandbutterflycurator · 3 years

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Strixhaven students revealed

As for Quint, he spends most of his time inside the grand Biblioplex, digging through old books for the purpose of his research. "His mind is piled high with facts and knowledge that might become useful. Being a Lorehold student, his magic usually comes from scrolls or a tome; blasting out like bladed sharp paper golden energy."

"He views the accuracy of historical accounts as extremely important—the truth is also a priority to him as it enables the preservation of facts rather than myths. He is at Strixhaven University on a scholarship but supplements his remaining tuition fees through working on a dig site with a team of researchers. Quint wishes to learn about the history and past of the loxodon race through uncovering great unknowns. He studies hard with the aim to make a name for himself and his family. While being a committed student, he suffers from wanderlust, always feeling the need and desire to travel and explore. He wants to find out who he really is and believes he can do so through his expeditions of significant historical places."

https://www.pcgamer.com/uk/magic-the-gathering-strixhaven-reveal-quintorius-of-lorehold-college/

"Zimone Wola is a female mage-student of Quandrix College, she is a brilliant and bright prodigy who entered Strixhaven at a younger age than most. Due to her high level of intellect, she flew through her studies in school, passing endless tests of magical study that were way beyond her years. She has recently chosen her college, now becoming a second year Quandrix mage-student much to the delight of her professors, who are keen for the talented whizz to attend their classes. While part of Quandrix, she remains friends with two girls she met in first year; one who has chosen Prismari and the other who will be attending Silverquill.

"Zimone wears patterned uniforms like the rest of Quandrix; it is layered and complex, reflecting what she loves. Her goal is to crack the Vorzani Conjecture; a famous and unsolved magical theorem that students and professors at Quandrix have been trying to figure out for decades. Zimone can often be found inside the great Biblioplex – finding books to help solve the theorem.

"Her mind is her most powerful weapon which enables her intellectual expansion. Her physical magic is shown as fractals and mathematical interpretations of natures. Intellect runs in her family – her grandmother was once a Quandrix professor but due to unclear circumstances, she has not been seen at Strixhaven University for many years. Even though Zimone is smart, sometimes she can feel uncertain. She struggles to deal with unknown mysteries, particularly ones relating to her own family. Her time at Strixhaven will help her figure out who she is, but it will be the challenges she faces that will allow her to decide who she wants to be."

https://mashable.com/article/magic-the-gathering-strixhaven-zimone-reveal/

"Dina is a Witherbloom mage-student, a female dryad with a wicked sense of humor that more than often edges on the darker side. She doesn’t worry or watch what she says and speaks the thoughts in her mind as they come, never giving a moment to consider whether she might be out of place with her words. Even though she is quick-witted and confident, she is attentive, making her an excellent tutor to other students. However, her teaching methods can sometimes be a little out there, like her."

She spends her time at Sedgemoor, the swampy marshlands on the college campus. She wears clothing mainly colored black, green, and brown. This is all fitting for a dryad, mind you. She relies on her professors for guidance, as Dina has no family. She carries a salamander-like creature with her and uses its essence to channel her magic.

https://www.gamespot.com/articles/magic-the-gathering-strixhaven-reveal-dina-of-witherbloom-college/1100-6489226/

The preeminent Silverquill is competitive and strong-willed, with the courage to lead and the mental acuity to reckon with the cost.

All of those features can be found in Killian Lu, a human mage-student in his second year at the Silverquill College of Eloquence. Handsome features, a sharp jaw and his immaculate midnight black hair might immediately draw the eye - not to mention the always-dashing monotone suit - but his implacable determination and work ethic have engendered him to both his peers and Strixhaven’s faculty.

Some might say that pressure is a direct result of having the Silverquill dean as a father - the master poet is reportedly a stern man who drives his son to graduate at the top of his class. Rigid discipline and an ever-watchful eye catches any of Killian’s mistakes, and his father is quick to remind him of the lineage of inkmasters that comprise the Lu ancestry. Killian’s failures are his father’s failures - and that of the family, by extension. Weakness in any pursuit is simply not an option.

Killian trains in secret to address his shortcomings and only ever displays a detached professionalism for his fellow students and teachers. Whether due to his father’s constant vigil or his own desire to master both the light and dark elements of Silverquill’s trademark magic, Killian vows to only ever make a mistake once. If only he didn’t find the light so difficult to embrace.

https://www.dicebreaker.com/games/magic-the-gathering-strixhaven/news/mtg-strixhaven-killian-lu-reveal

"Rootha Squallheart is a female orc and mage student of Prismari. She is a unique and distinct individual with long vibrant coloured hair and skin tinted with red and blue hues. Her clothes are expressive and dramatic, often consisting of scarlet fire and aqua-blue water elements. The clothes mix as though she were a painted ocean of lava. Rootha is unsurprisingly artistic, but can sometimes be hot-tempered, matching the flames she wears.

Rootha has trouble completing her work and handing it in on time for critique, most of her professors have little choice but to chase her down on campus to warrant a glimpse. She claims that her work is never ready – forever conscious that it isn’t quite right. In true self-critic style, Rootha commonly becomes infatuated with a great visionary idea which she spends weeks working on…only to decide she hates it causing her to destroy her creation in mere moments.

With her mother, Samara Squallheart, being a famous, talented caster, Rootha is under pressure to live up to the achievements of the rest of her family line – Rootha being the fifth generation of Prismari student in her family. She carries a heavy weight on her artistic shoulders and the constant link and expectations caused by her family can be frustrating, sometimes anger inducing. She wishes to break free from her family association and follow her own style. Her mother could wave intricate sculptures made from ice and water, but Rootha has wild magic; she is able to flash freeze water in one magnificent burst. She is learning to embrace her wild magic to push herself beyond her limits to seek recognition and fame for her own creations rather than those of her ancestors."

https://www.forbes.com/sites/joeparlock/2021/03/24/meet-rootha-squallheart-in-the-latest-magic-the-gathering-set-strixhaven-school-of-mages/?sh=4004b92764d6

#strixhaven #strixhaven school of mages #mtg #mtg arena #magic the gathering

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mattoyaki · 3 years

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Razor Build Guide

An anon asked me to make a Razor guide like my Yanfei and Zhongli guides and I’m more than happy to oblige! Razor holds a very special place in my heart. He was my first 4 star pull, my first character to reach c6, and was my main carry from AR10 til around AR 50 when I pulled Hu Tao. He’s a very f2p friendly character and has a great design, what’s not to love?!

If you’re looking to build the wolfboy I hope you can find this post useful 🐺

Role

Razor is a text book selfish DPS. “Selfish” meaning Razor does nothing to support his team members, his kit is entirely centered around himself. And that’s okay cause we love a selfish king!! Razor uses a sustained play style meaning he will primarily be the one on the field, only switching out to use his supports skills or burst and then swap right back to Razor.

The most important thing to note with Razor is he is a physical attacker, meaning he doesn’t quite fit into teams that focus on elemental damage.

Talents

Prioritize Razor’s Normal Attacks over his skill burst. The majority of his damage will scale from from his normal attacks. His Burst comes second and you can save his skill for last.

Razor requires books of Resistance, hilichurl masks, and Dvalin’s claw to level up his talents.

Weapon

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - Wolf’s Gravestone; Skyward Pride; The Unforged; Song of Broken Pines

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - Serpent Spine; Prototype Archaic

For weapons Razor keeps it pretty simple. If you have a 5⭐️ claymore slap it on the wolf boy. WGS is currently his best weapon although Song of Broken Pines might be better, we’ll have to wait and see but I really don’t recommend pulling on the weapon banner, personally. If you don’t have a 5⭐️ claymore he has few options for 4⭐️

Serpent Spine is the best 4⭐️ claymore for Razor if you feel like spending the $10. Otherwise, Prototype Archaic is great, especially at high refinement! The Litchic Blade also works if you have it at high refinement but bear in mind this is conditional to having at least two Liyue characters in your party.

Artifacts

Overview

(4pc) Pale Flame; (2pc) Pale Flame, (2pc) Bloodstained Chivalry; (4pc) Gladiator; (2pc) Gladiator, (2pc) Bloodstained Chivalry // (2pc) Pale Flame

Though Pale Flame is still being tested it does appear to be overall better than the Gladiator set. It mostly just depends on the sub stats for atk%. If you’re able to get high enough atk% from sub stats and weapon then definitely go with Pale Flame full set or 2pc PF//2pc BC. If you’re unable to breach 2k attack then consider gladiator for the Atk% increase.

Stats

Timepiece: Atk%

Goblet: Physical Dmg Bonus

Circlet: Crit Rate / Crit Dmg

Sub Stats

Prioritize sub stats in the following order:

Crit Rate = Crit Dmg > Atk% > Energy Recharge > Flat Atk

Team Comp

As mentioned above, Razor is a selfish DPS and uses a sustained play style. As such, he pairs well with characters that can do off field damage and support. Razor also likes Cryo characters to proc superconduct, which halves the physical resistance of enemies. *Note: Chongyun is the exception here. His E infuses Razor’s normal attacks with cryo, making superconduct useless.*

Anemo and Pyro characters don’t really synergize well with Razor. Even the god tier support Bennett isn’t the best match for him due to overload causing knock back on enemies, requiring Razor to sprint to catch up, leaving the AoE of Bennett’s Ult. It’s not the worst, but still annoying. Anemo characters do better with elemental team comps where they can swirl. Since Razor is a physical damage dealer he doesn’t benefit much from Anemo support.

The ideal team comp for Razor would include a Cryo character for superconduct, a damage buffer, and shielder/healer. Electro, Cryo, and Geo Resonance all work very well with Razor.

A popular team right now that consists of all 4⭐️ characters is Razor + Diona + Xingqiu + Fischl

Diona is a fantastic partner for Razor. She heals, she shields, and she applies cryo for superconduct.

Xingqiu is another excellent character to use with Razor. Their bursts synergize very well together. Xingqiu also makes a great 4pc Noblesse Oblige user! Give him a sacrificial sword and he’s one of the best supports in the entire game.

Fischl provides Electro Resonance which increases the amount of electro particles Razor gets which = more ult uptime. If you happen to have c6 Fischl she’s a monster in her own right.

Note: If you have Zhongli you can swap out Fischl as his resistance shredding is poggers as hell for the wolf boy

For this team you’ll typically start with your supports and use their skills. Summon Oz with Fischl, apply hydro with Xingqiu and Cryo with Diona. Then swap to Razor and proc superconduct with his E and start spamming autos. Fischl can reposition Oz if needed by using her E again or her burst. Try to pop Razor, Diona and Xingqiu’s ults at the same time some big pp damage.

Other Potential Teammates:

Ganyu, Zhongli, Qiqi, Mona, Albedo, Rosaria, Barbara, and Kaeya

TLDR

Razor is a good boy!! He is a physical unit that likes to hog the battle field, only switching to use his support’s skills and bursts. He can use any 5⭐️ claymore, but the prototype archaic is a fantastic option and obtainable for everyone if you don’t have a 5⭐️. The new Pale Flame set seems to be his best option but Gladiator is still good if the atk% sub stats are better. Diona and Xingqiu are two of his best supports if you have them. As long as you have some form of physical resistance shredding for him (superconduct and/or Zhongli) Razor will preform very well.

I hope this was helpful in some way to the anon that asked and to anyone else trying to build the Wolf boy!

#genshin tips #genshin impact tips #genshin impact #genshin #Razor #Razor build #genshin impact razor #razor genshin #gaming #gacha #mihoyo

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magnoliapip · 3 years

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The Storm Inside

Title : The Storm Inside

Book : Open Heart series (Choices - Pixelberry)

Description : Casey has been pushing everyone away and spiraling since the attack on the hospital and her loved ones are concerned.

Pairing : none established / ambiguous

Characters : Open Heart FMC (Casey Valentine), Sienna Trinh, Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma, Rafael Aviero, Elijah Greene, Aurora Emery, Kyra Santana, Danny (mentioned), Bobby (mentioned)

Warnings : mention of death, mental health

Prompt : “What’s the weather outside your window doing right now?...”

Casey stared vacantly out the floor length windows into the night sky above Boston from her seat against them on the living room floor. The sky was as clear as could be, a rarity for the area, but in a city as populous as Boston seeing the stars was a gift they were never granted. She stretched out her cramping legs to a different position as she leaned her head and left shoulder against the cool glass.

She looked out of windows with alarming frequency now. She had never really done so before, preferring to always be doing other things. She’d always thought of herself as a social person who enjoyed others company, though she could be either out dancing in a packed club or relaxing away a quiet night in with the same level of enjoyment. Friends and loved ones was all she really needed.

The attack on Edenbrook had changed everything, down to her very bones.

Some days her mood was somber but calm, like a cloudy day. Those were her best days and the ones she liked best. The cloudy days could be darker with threat of rain or lighter with the sun just missing the opportunity to come out. It was the closest to her old self she could feel. Unfortunately for her, those days were not only fleeting and the least common, they were becoming a rarity.

More often, her moods were a range of levels of sadness. All the way from a misting drizzle, enough to coat everything in water and make the air humid, to a torrentially pouring rain. Buckets from heavens and flash floods. The only thing those floods never seemed to leave clean was herself.

Other times she was cold. So, so cold. The best of those days were accompanied with a blizzard. Cold, but manageable with a shovel. On the days where she left her heart covered in an inch thick layer of ice and brandished her words like weaponized icicles, frigid and sharp, the people around her knew to steer clear. She was getting a little too good and stabbing them where it hurt.

Her worst moods felt like she should alert the National Weather Service. Tornado warnings and hurricane evacuations were a courtesy she never felt up to extending, adding to her already astronomical guilt. Like a twister, she could feel so angry and out of control she would tear through everyone in her path with no regard for who or what was in it. She had hurt people, especially the ones she loved, deeply but couldn’t bring herself to stop. It was like watching her body act with someone else at the controls.

It was just one more thing about herself to hate lately, and it had a long line to stand in.

The weather in reality never matched what she felt inside. It fascinated and disgusted her in equal measure. It had been sunny (mostly) since the funeral. It was repulsive.

Bobby was dead. Danny was dead. Raf had almost died and would have god knew how many long term problems ahead because of the illness. She had nearly died. And the world just kept spinning.

Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t any of them see that she was stuck there in that room. That she had never recovered. That she couldn’t recover.

At first, when her friends had noticed her strange new affinity for gazing outside for hours every night, they tried to pull her away. Distract her with things like herbal teas, chocolate ice cream and support. They tried to shower her with her favorite pastimes from before. They tried dancing around the apartment to silly pop songs and playing video games with her. But they didn’t understand. And they didn’t stop.

So she bit them. Hard.

Now they left her alone.

She was an awful person. She shouldn’t have been allowed to live. Someone should have realized it at the hospital and just let her die.

She could feel the tears well up again, stinging her eyes as her inner clouds started to rain again. The night sky outside stayed perfectly cloudy.

It was going to be a long night.

Sienna stood around the corner, watching her best friend shatter silently, as she had done every night for over a month. She whispered to those behind her, “Don’t you all see? Nothing is helping and she’s getting worse. After the last time she panicked when I reached out, I thought I’d give her space. We all did. But it’s not working. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

The gathered assembly of those in the cramped penthouse hallway who loved a young doctor named Casey watched her crumble, weeping without making a sound...and no one said anything. Some of the smartest doctors in the nation, and no one had an answer.

Not Bryce, who stood off to the side watching the pain on the face of the first true friend he’d made while at Edenbrook. Someone who had looked past the brash, self-confidence he used as a shield. The first person he hadn’t been afraid of discovering his past.

Not Rafael, who stood at the back of the crowd, down the hall, not able to stand to look at the person who made him believe he was worth as much to her as these intelligent, talented and more well off friends of hers. Not as she could no longer see how much she was worth.

Not Jackie, who was used to facing her problems by cackling at them until they scurried off with tails between legs or tearing them out with her teeth. But this was a problem that required delicacy, the type she had been shown by the very woman who now needed it.

Not Ethan, who leaned against the wall as he saw his protégé, the first person he’d ever believed in this much, destroy herself. She had forced herself, her goodness, into his life and helped fix his hurt self. Now it was his turn and he, for the first time, found himself at a loss.

Not Aurora, her rival turned friend who showed her at her loneliest that having friend was worth something after all. Not Elijah, a beacon of positivity who felt entirely inadequate with this situation that left her emotionally impaired. Not Kyra, desperate to find some way to give Casey the support she had given. Not Sienna, whose heart broke as she watched her very best friend, her dolphin, her rock in many ways fall further and further into herself.

Each one of them loved her. Each one of them cared for her. Each of them had a purpose and a reason to be at Edenbrook, but Casey was the glue that had held them all together. That glue, their foundation, was compromised. This time, they needed to find a way to save her. This time, she couldn’t waltz her way into a miracle seemingly handed down by the divines themselves to fix the situation.

Giving voice to their silent thoughts, Bryce whispered softer than before, “She needs us. She has to know it. She has to know we’re here somewhere inside, but can’t ask. Won’t ask.”

“We’ve already lost so much because of the attack,” Sienna said quietly. “We can’t lose her now. I can’t.”

“None of us can,” Rafael replied softly.

There was practically a flashing beacon over Casey’s head, screaming help me please. It was long overdue for them to stop ignoring it. For a few pregnant minutes, they all looked around at each other and back to her. This mismatched band of misfits and nerds, bound this night by their affection for one single woman. They stared at each other, desperate for answers…

Until the one who loved her most went rigid. Then stepped toward the rest, speaking slowly.

“I...may have an idea.”

[BREAK]

Notes : I left the ending open for interpretation on purpose. This story is not intended to be expanded on or have a second part. Y’all can decide who the person who loves her most is (and if that person isn’t presently named in my story, you can put them there yourself :D)

Also, I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to the amazing writers I’ve talking to lately. Due to some truly awful comments and the way they were affecting me mentally, I recently purged all of my works but a few from fanfiction.net, AO3, and here on tumblr. Talking to, interacting with, and just seeing you lovelies in action has led me to believe I should start to do this again.

Huge shout out to @jerzwriter and @lovealexhunt for being the lovely souls they are. You may have no idea who I am, especially on this blog rather than my main, but I will never stop being grateful for the positivity you put into the world. Thank you.

#choices #open heart #choices open heart #open heart mc #casey valentine #ethan ramsey #bryce lahela #jackie varma #rafael aveiro #sienna trinh #elijah greene #aurora emery #kyra santana #magnoliapip

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ironmandeficiency · 3 years

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tf boys + dnd headcanons (bc i clearly have nothing better to do)

pairings: benny miller / reader (romantic) but platonic w the rest of the tf boys

word count: i’m typing this in the post itself good luck fuckers

summary: i got nothing y’all. just know that benny & will have a little extra info idk why

a/n: i’m semi-new to dnd but i’m armed w the player’s handbook and google so i will do my best

benny: i think dnd was a guilty pleasure for him during high school. yeah he was seen as a Hot Popular Guy™️ and played football and baseball, but there is and always has been a nerd living in that heart of gold. had one (1) set of dice he used for every campaign and even kept them with him when deployed. he joined a campaign for the first time in years after coming back from The Mission That Shall Not Be Named™️. creating new characters & a homebrew or two became a way for him to cope with everything that happened there and heal.

details abt (one of) benny’s character(s):

half-orc barbarian-bard multiclass, affectionately known as a bardbarian

college of lore + berserker pathways

himbo af and benny laughs a lot when he gets to act out said himboness

character has a tendency to start bar fights if his talent is questioned, and usually it’s beating them with his fists and/or lute. there’s an npc that owns an instrument shop the half-orc frequents that gives him a glare every time but will always repair or replace said lute

uses vicious mockery against the BBG (big bad guy) every time they face a new one and the guys have never laughed so hard at benny’s random insults

focuses more on utility spells bc it’s just that easy for him to beat the hell out of someone with fists and weapons. becomes a jack of all trades kind of guy (similar to irl) and enjoys the “oh shit he can do that?” questions when he pulls off an intricate

when you offhandedly mention dnd night with your friends while planning for a date, benny’s eyes go wide. “you play dnd?! why didn’t you tell me earlier, lovebug? i love dnd!” precious baby boy will gush abt his first campaign back in high school and find his first set of dice to show you. he’s excited bc dnd is now another thing you can do together as a couple. will ask if you two can make characters with interlocking backstories 🥺

will: he didn’t play in high school but knew some guys in basic training that played who explained the basics to him and his first thought was “oh benny would love this” bc he knows his brother that well benny never had the heart to tell will that he had been playing dnd for years before will told him abt it so will takes credit for introducing benny to dnd. didn’t join a campaign but a character was built & he was gifted a set of dice from that group’s dm in case he ever wanted to start. ends up taking this character with him when he joins one of your campaigns and enjoys it a lot more than he thought he would

details abt will’s character:

goliath male, abt 7’8” and 300ish lbs bc he a big chonk

ranger-fighter multiclass — “warrior who used martial prowess and nature magic to combat threats on the edge of civilization” & “master of martial combat, skilled with a variety of weapons and armor” (pg. 45, dnd player’s handbook)

you can’t tell me that william miller wouldn’t enjoy the FUCK out of this combo without your pants catching fire

favored terrain: mountain, forest at level 6, and arctic at level 10

fighting style: two-weapon fighting

archetype: beast master. prefers a wolf, hawk, or mule companion but isn’t too picky

less of an emphasis on strength (goliath characters already get +1 to strength & rangers need more dexterity and wisdom anyways); instead, put his higher stat rolls into dex, wisdom, and constitution

you mention dnd early in getting to know will partly to just make conversation (and to snuff out whether he was the kind of guy to look down on the game as a whole). he tells you abt benny and a few of his army friends that played, and that he didn’t consider himself a player bc he hadn’t used his character yet. you called bullshit and, after getting him to play once, discovered that will would make a fabulous dm. his memory? impeccable. session plans? infallible, no matter what the party can improvise. is somehow always able to steer the party in the direction he needs them to go without being forceful. no one has ever heard a “you can certainly try” sound so encouraging yet foreboding at the same time.

frankie: poor man is absolutely clueless. he joins in on the dnd fun bc he saw how excited benny was and figured that it would be better than sitting at home by himself watching western reruns. ends up being inspired by said westerns (namely “the rifleman”) when creating his character and is crossing his fingers the entire time hoping that no one calls him on the similarities. despite the emphasis placed on charisma, he’s drawn to the paladin class bc of their self-chosen holy quest and the desire to vanquish evil (trauma 🥺). is learning how spells work as he goes and is frequently apologizing for holding up the session bc of this.

details abt frankie’s character:

half-elf paladin male

neutral good alignment

worships helm, god of protection (forgotten realms)

strength & charisma highest stats

protection fighting style

takes the oath of vengeance — “a solemn commitment to punish those who have committed a grevious sin” (phb, pg. 87). the character’s own purity is inferior to serving the justice they believe is required. to me, this just SCREAMS frankie

with the guidance of helm, his character became the sole caretaker to a child whose village was slaughtered by his character’s sworn enemy. strives to defeat said sworn enemy both in the name of his adopted son’s lost family & simply bc helm was like “dude you gotta stop this guy” shortly before frankie’s character found the child

has a bunch of healing & defense spells instead of combat spells bc why would he need combat spells if he can just fuck someone up with a weapon of choice?

santiago: like frankie, santi was absolutely clueless. but unlike frankie, he did a fuck ton of research during the days leading to the first night of the campaign. he he showed up after actually having done research with a well-rounded character with fitting stats and an intriguing backstory. does what a lot of men can’t and won’t by giving the party a female that is a genuine badass and respected for her badassery instead of being talked down to simply bc she’s a female. enjoys putting feline tendencies into his rp and the guys make cat jokes a lot.

details abt santiago’s character:

female tabaxi monk, way of the open hand

chaotic neutral alignment

was raised in the monastery and became a teacher in the ways for a short time. left the monastery after her curiosity revealed corruption within the ranks & was only allowed to leave freely under the condition of not telling anyone what she found

she was called back to teach when a sickness took down a lot of the elders and despite the reluctance, when she learned her mentor was sick, she went back. taught until his death and is in search of a medicine to save the monastery

her curiosity is fueled by her passion to learn everything she can. sometimes this gets her into some shenanigans but nothing too bad

triple frontier taglist: @pedropasscals @max--phillips @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @battletales @darthadeline @jedi-mando @book-of-anarchy @andysficrecs @purelypascal @whovianwar @lv7867 @kaermorons @princess76179 @greeneyedblondie44

#triple frontier imagine #triple frontier hc #triple frontier #frankie morales #will miller #william ironhead miller #benny miller #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #francisco catfish morales #dungeons and dragons #jay plays dnd #dnd

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solatude · 4 years

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ATLA Unpopular Opinions

I’ve had some thoughts about various aspects in Avatar: The Last Airbender. So, in order of least to most controversial, here we go:

Sokka looks better with his hair up. Sokka’s wolf tail is one of the more unique hairstyles in the show, at least for the guys. He looks so basic with his hair down. The wolf tail adds to his personality, his dramaticness, and humor. How can a water tribe warrior fight with hair in his face? Please also refer to his topknot in Book Three.

Sokka didn’t have as much pull as fans think he does. Pull, in this context, means to attract someone romantically/sexually. First of all, Toph is a child, so I’m not counting her because a 12 year-old crushing on a 15 year-old should be nothing more than that---a crush. Yue and Suki pulled him first, as he fell for them before they fell for him. Suki could care less for the sexist guy who insulted her on her own island; but teaching him the ways of the Kyoshi warriors, plus a kiss on the cheek had him blushing---HARD! He thankfully changed his mindset after that. Yue, while she barely had a choice, had accepted her role as princess and was prepared to dedicate her life to the values of her tribe in an arranged marriage. The amount of times she ran away from Sokka was both tragic and hilarious. But that only made Sokka want her more, she never chased him. To be honest though, he was probably the first guy who treated her normally, despite her status. I think she mainly wanted a friend, but was surprised to find a potential lover in Sokka. Plus he made her laugh. Ty Lee thought he was cute, but Ty Lee thinks everything is cute. That is all. If you wanna talk about pull, Aang had Zuko risking his life chasing him for three seasons (I’m joking, don’t think too deeply about that).

Azula and Katara are almost equal in power. I get that Azula is a firebending prodigy, but sometimes her skills are overestimated by fans and she’s made to seem as though she can overpower everyone. It makes perfect sense that she lost to Katara in almost every fight. Before meeting her, she’s only ever fought nonbenders, firebenders, and earthbenders. She never had experience fighting a trained waterbender, so her losing to Katara shows that even she has her limitations. Whenever she did win a fight against her, it was because she got help from her friends, brother, or subjects. Katara never hesitated to fight her, and being 14 years-old herself, allowed for an even exchange of combat. Let’s be honest, what bender would go up against Azula fearlessly except the one who’s element puts out fires?

Ursa was not a bad mother. Ursa was a victim of an abusive, arranged marriage. For context, Fire Lord Azulon wanted Ozai to marry Ursa because she was the granddaughter of Avatar Roku, and he felt that they would produce powerful heirs to the royal family. Ursa was forced to leave her village, family, and fiance behind for this marriage; because who would dare turn down the request of a Fire Lord? Ursa never really loved Ozai, but he never cared. He just wanted to increase his status and power. Ursa is often criticized for giving Zuko attention over Azula, while scolding Azula and not showing her any love. However, Azula was praised by Ozai, and as a result showed more of an obedience towards him. Ozai showed a great disdain for Zuko. Ursa was simply doing her best to show Zuko how much he mattered. He was living in his sister’s shadow, while being neglected by his father. I also really feel for Azula, because she was only valued for her firebending skills, and she probably had no emotional outlet that she trusted to help guide her. However, I do think Azula was too far along for her mother to really help her. Ursa encouraged Zuko to play with Azula; she genuinely wanted her children to get along like any other parent. I just don’t think there was anything she could say or do to encourage Azula to be less destructive and show remorse for her actions. She should have never called Azula a monster, but she was a woman filled with fear. She feared her abusive husband and the repercussions of speaking out against him, she feared the destructive tendencies of her daughter and the ways she hurt other people without caring for how they felt, and she feared for Zuko’s life for not living up to the impossible ideals of the royal family. Ursa was not a perfect mother, but she tried given the little power she had. Also, to be fair, we only see Ursa’s life from Zuko’s perspective in the show. Azula probably had many memories with Ursa but she most likely blocked them out to hold space for firebending forms and her father’s approval; one of which she never really secured.

Bloodbending is overrated and unnecessary. Some fans claim that Katara should have had a more positive reaction to becoming a bloodbender. However, it was never in her character to be so controlling, especially against another person’s will. Bloodbending is also not as useful as it’s made to seem. Since one can only bloodbend on a full moon, you would have to wait an entire month to even utilize the skill. That’s extremely inconvenient and because you have to wait until nighttime, it’s even less practical. How often does Team Avatar fight during the night compared to the day? They would be sleeping if anything. Also, when your team consists of an agile airbender, a master waterbender, a powerful earthbender, and a weapons strategist, plus Appa and Momo; why would anyone need to bloodbend? Most of the Gaang’s enemies never required that level of power in order to be defeated. Bloodbending is also VERY niche. If this is allowed, should bonebending be allowed since there are minerals in bones? Should soundbending be allowed since sound is produced from vibrations? I admit it’s a really cool ability, but it’s not that important in the grand scheme of things. Also, speaking of Katara...

Katara gets too much hate. I’m not sure if it’s the surge of new fans since the Netflix debut or the repressed thoughts of old fans but lately Katara’s character has been mercilessly criticized. It’s been said that she brings up her mother too often, and that she’s overly emotional and selfish. First of all, Katara was eight years-old (and Sokka nine) when her mother was murdered. During the run of the show, only six years have passed since then, as she’s 14 when she finds Aang. She lives with survivor’s guilt due to her mother lying about who the last waterbender was so that Katara wouldn’t be taken prisoner. Unfortunately, the firebender soldier Yon Rah wasn’t taking prisoners that day, implying that he was going to murder her. Katara mentions her mother only a handful of times, usually to relate to another character who lost someone close to them in an effort to empathize (Aang, Haru, Jet, Zuko). People forget that she saw her mother’s dead body after running to get help. It was definitely wrong for Katara to tell Sokka that he didn’t love their mother the way she did in the Southern Raiders episode, and she definitely should have apologized. But, she was right. Sokka was shown to be closer to his father. She was in extreme emotional pain and instead of being comforted, she was criticized by Aang and Sokka for wanting revenge. How many times has Katara sacrificed something for the sake of others? She barely had a childhood considering she took on a maternal role in her tribe after her mother’s death. She had to deal with Sokka’s sexist comments, she had to suppress her talent for waterbending, and she felt isolated and alone because the one parent that was alive left to fight in the war. When someone needed encouragement, Katara was always there to encourage them. When someone needed help, she never hesitated to assist them. She often put herself in harm’s way if it meant someone else didn’t get hurt. For a 14 year-old girl in a war torn world, she is immensely brave. How many times has Zuko gone on and on about his honor, or lashed out at his Uncle for a seemingly small reason? How many times has Sokka talked about meat? Or Azula and her speeches about controlling and manipulating people? Toph and her rebelliousness? Even Aang’s laid back attitude turned into carelessness every now and then. Every character has a crutch that they attach themselves to, but Katara isn’t given the grace that other characters have been given. Yes, Aang lost his entire nation, and Katara would never know what that felt like. However, Aang wouldn’t know how Katara felt either. Aang was in the presence of children his age and was able to travel around the world to make friends (i.e. Bumi from the Earth Kingdom and Kuzon from the Fire Nation). He was taught to be less detached, so his idea of family is very different from Katara’s. He never witnessed the dead bodies of his people firsthand, though he did see Gyatso’s skeleton later on. Katara grew up in a world ruined by war. She had little to no friends, and the one person she was closest to left her life very early. Her tribe was VERY small and I doubt she had a lot of people to talk to. She had never left the Southern Water Tribe before, so it’s very likely that she was going to stay there her entire life had she not met Aang. She’s been accused of not allowing Sokka to feel sad about their mother, but why should she? It’s not Katara’s job to burden the weight of Sokka’s emotions, especially about their mother. She cannot force Sokka to open up about his feelings, that is something he must do at his own free will. Sokka hides his pain behind his masculinity. He’s protective because he feels guilty about not being able to do anything to help his mother. He doesn’t even remember what she looks like, he could only picture Katara’s face in her place. He felt even worse when his father left and he, understandably, couldn’t go with him. Sokka is not upfront about how he feels, but Katara should not be blamed for that. Overall it may be said that Katara was a flawed character that has recently been more scrutinized for her flaws than acknowledged for her strengths. We can do both, but there’s been an imbalance. She successfully revolted to free Haru’s father as well as other prisoners of the Fire Nation. She guided her friends out of the Si Wong desert despite the obstacles that stood in their way. She healed Aang and Zuko when shot by lightning, ultimately saving their lives and the lives of many other people who have been physically hurt by someone. She even washed Sokka’s underwear and sewed his pants. We can cut the girl some slack if she wants to talk about her mother, can’t we? She’s the glue that holds everyone together. Katara’s emotions make her a stronger fighter. Her trauma has shaped her into someone determined to master waterbending and has allowed her to be more empathetic to those around her. But she shouldn’t have had to go through all of that. She was forced to mature faster in order to survive. Katara can sometimes be arrogant, misguided, oblivious, and doubtful, yes. But she is also resilient, brave, selfless, and generous. That is the duality of her character. She is NOT to be disrespected. After all, as she said to Sokka in The Painted Lady, “I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me!”. And she hasn’t.

Iroh should be banned from the Earth Kingdom. It’s not an unpopular opinion that Uncle Iroh is a war criminal, but I just don’t think he should be allowed anywhere near the Earth Kingdom; either temporarily or permanently. Yes he played an instrumental role in Zuko’s redemption, with tea in his left hand and wisdom in his right. However, that does not excuse his invasion of Ba Sing Se. He laid siege to the impenetrable city for 600 days. Surely hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people died under his commands. He broke the lower ring, home of the poorest members of the Earth Kingdom. The only reason he stopped was because his son, Lu Ten, died in battle; not aware that many citizens also died as a result of his actions. How many children’s lives has his army taken away? How many sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, aunts, uncles, and grandparents have died under his siege? Not only does he get to establish a business and earn money, he is elevated to the upper ring of the city; meanwhile an entire population can barely afford food and stable jobs. I understand that is was for plot purposes, but It’s a slap in the face to allow him to thrive in the city after Aang defeated Ozai. His wanted poster should be everywhere, not just for supposedly betraying the Fire Nation, but also for crimes against the Earth Kingdom. The very least he could do was shut down his tea shop and hand the building over to a family who may need it, and establish a tea shop in the Fire Nation. I’m not saying Iroh couldn’t be redeemed for his war crimes, but it definitely would take more than what was seen in the show for him to be forgiven for them.

Anyways, let me know what you think. This took an ungodly amount of time to write.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka #aang #katara #toph #zuko #iroh #ozai #ursa #azula #ba sing se #fire nation #water tribe #bloodbending

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cogentranting · 4 years

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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and Mockingjays and Roses

*Warning: Full Spoilers for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes*

Symbols are an important part of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Symbols are used to mark the identities of different characters, define relationships, and provide thematic links to the original trilogy. The symbols work to create a tension in the story, a question of whether they complement or contrast. Symbolism is used to explore two of the most influential people in Snow’s life: Lucy Gray and Katniss.

The various symbols associated with Lucy Gray are color, music, and birds. Each of these things plays a special role in the story and serves to distinguish her from Coriolanus. In a typical setting, love interests with different symbols could be understood to show how they complement each other-- opposites attract, two halves of a whole, etc. This novel lets the reader play with that interpretation for a large portion of the book; the story questions the relationship between them, wondering repeatedly how strong, or even how genuine, their love is. Ultimately, however, the contrasting associations sets them up for their final conflict and foreshadows the eventual destruction of both of them.

At the first sight of Lucy Gray, she is in a “dress made of a rainbow of ruffles” (24). In her first interview she says “the Covey love color” (53). The Covey are all named with colors. Lucy Gray wears bright colors at all times. The snakes which end up being drawn to Lucy Gray in the arena are bright neon colors. The colors represent her exuberance, her love of beauty, her eccentricity, her freedom to stand apart. But Coriolanus is white. The absence of color, the opposite of all that Lucy Gray loves and represents. However, this symbol for Coriolanus is not prominent in this book. In fact it only really exists in this book in the form of his last name-- Snow. Even that is not the name he goes by. But it is the name that forms his connection with the Capitol and all that it represents: Dr. Gaul calls him by his last name; the Capitol media makes frequent plays on his name; he is associated with the legacy of his family name; in the peacekeepers he is officially addressed as “Private Snow”. It’s also used as the voice of his ambition in the phrase that he and Tigris use, “Snow lands on top” (9). Eventually, when his character arc is complete and he has embraced evil, he switches to going by his last name, as the Epilogue exclusively refers to him as “Snow”. However, to fully grasp that a part of the symbolism of his name relates to the color white requires knowledge of the Hunger Games trilogy. There Snow is represented by his white roses. The roses are present in this book, but they are colored roses. Therefore, Coriolanus being symbolized by white is not a constant in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, it’s a progression. It is Coriolanus turning against what drew him to Lucy Gray. While the progression is ongoing, the decisive moment comes when Lucy Gray uses the bright orange scarf he gave her to set a trap for him (or at least so he assumes) (581). The shift is there as he is “betrayed” by Lucy Gray’s colors, and the fulfillment is present in the person of President Snow in The Hunger Games. By knowing the trilogy, the reader knows Coriolanus’s future and can see that he eventually eschews color, choosing the stark white which here sets him apart from Lucy Gray, but will also inevitably mark the violent contrast between him and the Girl on Fire.

The second hallmark of Lucy Gray is her love of music. Her singing is her survival. It’s how she earns her living in District 12. It’s what unites her with her family. It’s how she expresses her emotions. It’s how she attracts attention at the Reaping and how she gains enough favor to win the Games. Coriolanus does not start out opposed to music. In fact, it initially attracts him to Lucy Gray, especially since one of her songs she sings in the Capitol awakens memories of his mother and a song she sang to him that “mentioned loving him” (78). Music is associated with his mother on several occasions, and his mother is the figure who most represents love and goodness for Coriolanus. When asked how he is like his mother he replies that they “shared a fondness for music” but also internally admits to himself that “she liked music, and he didn’t hate it, he guessed” (290). Despite his positive associations with music and his connection with people who love music (his mother, Lucy Gray, and also Pluribus), Coriolanus himself does particularly like music and doesn’t really understand it. He notes that he “can’t really sing” and when he sings the anthem “his singing was more like sustained talking” (127, 129). Beyond lacking talent, it seems that music and poetry are something that he cannot grasp; all the Capitol’s songs “sounded the same to him”, and Livia Cardew mocked him for “his inability to decipher the deeper meaning of a poem” (185). This extends later into the novel when he specifically fails to grasp the meaning of Lucy Gray’s song, which he describes as “nonsense words” and “ridiculous” because he “couldn’t make sense of it” (425, 427). Coriolanus has an inability to understand something that is an essential part of Lucy Gray which represents a failure to connect to her on a deeper level. It also distances him from those characters who demonstrate positive moral character: Lucy Gray, his mother, the generous Pluribus, and Sejanus (who Coriolanus notes had “always been good at rhetoric” (427)). Livia Cardew attributes this to Coriolanus being “self-absorbed” (185). The presentation of this trait within the book represents his moral failings and his rejection of the Romanticism which defines the Covey and the philosophical rhetoric of the Rebels and Sejanus. This puts him at odds with all that the novel holds up as praiseworthy. His attitude toward music only worsens as the book progresses and he finds that he is “weary of the infusion of music into his life. Invasion might be a better word” (445). He feels the way it pushes him away from others and threatens his position. But the significance of the music does not stop with the concept in general.

The novel features the lyrics of multiple songs. Lucy Gray’s ballad is notable for the way it describes her mystery, how it shows Coriolanus’s failure to truly understand or appreciate her, and how it foreshadows his hand in her destruction. However, as he brings about her destruction, she has a hand in his eventual destruction. Lucy Gray is revealed to be the writer of the two songs from the Hunger Games trilogy-- “Deep in the Meadow” (“Rue’s Song”) and “The Hanging Tree”. “Deep in the Meadow” has less prominence in this book. The context is essentially the same-- Lucy Gray sings it as a lullaby to Maude Ivory in the same way that Katniss sings it to Prim and Rue-- so it carries the same weight initially. It is a symbol of peace and comfort and love. These are things which are mostly denied to Coriolanus and things which he rejects by the end of The Ballad, and actively seeks to destroy in The Hunger Games. However, it is eventually used against him, as Katniss’s use of the song-- her gesture of love for Rue-- is what causes the first sparks of rebellion to rise up in District 11. “The Hanging Tree” plays this role to an even greater extent. Lucy Gray writes the song about a moment that Coriolanus is present for and deeply disturbed by (350-351). The song is, on one level, about doomed lovers. Within the song you have Arlo and Lil-- two Rebels whose fate is mourned and romanticized, and whose doom Coriolanus has a hand in, already casting him in the role of antagonist. However, there’s also the speaker in the song. At one point in the narrative, the speaker is Billy Taupe calling to Lucy Gray. With him in the role of speaker the love story of the song is poisonous-- when they can’t be free together, Billy Taupe wants her to die rather than be free without him (487). After his death, the song transfers to be a call from Lucy Gray to Coriolanus. However, his character is entirely antithetical to the song. He rejects the dark romanticism that makes star-crossed lovers appealing, and rather than being willing to “wear a necklace of rope side by side with” Lucy Gray, he tries to kill her, betraying her and everything she and the song stand for. The song could also be applied to another pair of star-crossed lovers-- Katniss and Peeta. In their Games, Peeta tried to save her life-- “called out for his love to flee”-- then they try to survive together-- “I told you to run, so we’d both be free”-- and when that hope is lost they are prepared to die together-- “wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me”-- in order to deny the Capitol its victory and its ownership over them. Despite being the only couple without a literal connection to the Hanging Tree (and being a fake couple at the time of their actions) Katniss and Peeta most truly embody the spirit of the song, which Lucy Gray calls “too rebellious” (491). The song is meaningful on a broader level because it subverts the symbol of the Hanging Tree, which is meant to be an instrument for the Capitol’s control, and turns into a symbol of love and hope for freedom and resistance that would rather die than submit to the Capitol. Katniss later takes this song and transforms it into an anthem for the rebellion. In fact, it’s compared by Lucy Gray and Coriolanus to the Capitol’s anthem, saying it “has authority” like “when [Coriolanus] sang the anthem in the Capitol” (491). Katniss gives it the platform to be the rival anthem that it was destined to be, and she uses it to attack Snow. Lucy Gray haunts Coriolanus through the Hunger Games trilogy through her songs. These songs which are all that remains of the girl he betrayed and destroyed, come back as weapons against him, brandished as symbols of all that he and his tyranny stand against.

Beyond her general association with music, Lucy Gray is associated with birds. Her musical nature makes her a songbird like that of the title and her family is deemed “the Covey”-- covey is a word which means “a small party or flock of birds”. The way she is continually conscious of her appearance early in her time in the Capitol evokes a bird preening, as the ruffles of her brightly colored dress evoke feathers. Coriolanus ends up dealing with birds through his work as a peacekeeper, rounding up jabberjays and mockingjays. While his team member shows an affinity for birds, Coriolanus does not. He specifically notes that while some people “just understand birds” he is certain “that he would never be one of those people” (413). In an immediate sense, this once again signals a distance between him and Lucy Gray. She is a bird that he can never understand. In contrast, Lucy Gray has an affinity for snakes. The clearest counterpart for snakes is Coriolanus himself. His use of poison in this book and the Hunger Games trilogy creates the suggestion that he is venomous (especially when the evidence of his poisoning is found in the sores in his mouth). Dr. Gaul also breeds deadly snakes in the same way that she grooms Coriolanus into the man he becomes. Her snakes ignore him as if he is one of them. And Lucy Gray “always knows where [snakes] will be” (433). She uses her understanding of snakes to her advantage, dropping one down Mayfair’s dress, leaving one as a trap for Coriolanus, and poisoning Treech with one. The snakes in the Games end up drawn to her and soothed by her singing. Coriolanus is drawn to her and her singing in the same way, and likewise is used by her to win the Games. Lucy Gray seems to understand Coriolanus in a way that he can never understand her. However, she may have confused him for one of the non-venomous snakes from District 12, rather than a snake specifically bred to kill by Dr. Gaul. Or perhaps she subconsciously knows the truth about him since she states, “I love all kinds of things I don’t trust… snakes. Sometimes I think I love them because I can’t trust them” (441). Regardless of how his role of a snake attracts Lucy Gray, her role as a bird creates tension with Coriolanus. The wildness of the birds unsettles him. He expresses the belief that they’d be happier in a cage, but both Bug and Lucy Gray believe the birds should be free (418, 421). It reflects Coriolanus’s relationship with nature in general. It cannot be controlled and so he dislikes it. When he first sees the woods he is afraid of them; “the disorder alone felt disturbing” (348). This is a stark contrast to both Lucy Gray, who frequents the woods with the Covey, and Katniss who thrives in the woods. In similar fashion, the plant that Katniss is named for, and which aids in Lucy Gray’s survival (435, 497) grows wild, while Coriolanus’s signature flower, his roses, are domesticated and highly cultivated. Coriolanus likes only what he can control. It’s when he realizes that he cannot control Lucy Gray that he turns on her. This distinction takes on further relevance in his specific response to the jabberjays and the mockingjays

Coriolanus appreciates the jabberjays because they can be controlled easily with a simple remote control. Mockingjays, however, represent the uncontrollable. His reaction to them is immediate: “he’d spotted his first mockingjay, and he disliked the thing on sight” (352). Later he advocates killing all the mockingjays because “they’re unnatural” and “he distrusted their spontaneous creation. Nature running amok” (417). Lucy Gray on the other hand loves the mockingjays. When the mockingjays take up her song “the Covey were all smiles” and Tam Amber asserts “like sandstones to diamonds, that’s what we are to them” (439). Here Coriolanus expresses that what he fears most is that the mockingjays have removed “the Capitol birds from the equation” (439). He deeply believes in the need for the Capitol to maintain control, so something that openly flouts the need for the Capitol’s influence is both frightening and a threat to the beliefs that define him. Coriolanus eventually uses the jabberjays (a symbol of Capitol control) to betray Sejanus. In return, Lucy Gray uses the mockingjays to protect herself from Coriolanus as he hunts her (504). If she survived the encounter, it is because of the mockingjays. With his transformation into Snow complete, he is able to return to the Capitol. When he looks back on his time in District 12, he views Lucy Gray not as a lost love but as a conquered threat. Because Lucy Gray was someone he could not control he repaints her in his memory as someone who manipulated him and made him feel jealous and weak (516). But with his new power Snow is assured that “she and her mockingjays could never harm him again” (516). The memories have been twisted to associate Lucy Gray with mockingjays and in turn with harm done to him, though neither has ever actually harmed him. However, knowledge of the Hunger Games trilogy reveals the clear irony of his statement. Katniss uses the mockingjays to help her in the Games and makes them a tool for herself. They then become a symbol of the rebellion for the very reason that he initially hated them. Katniss comes to embody the things that mockingjay symbolizes and she and that symbol are the rallying point for the rebellion. Because of the Mockingjay that he can never predict, understand or control, everything Snow is and has built is destroyed.

Lucy Gray is a vibrant character that tempts Coriolanus toward a better life and a better way of being. Everything about her symbolizes a potential for good within him in his early years. However, he fully and irrevocably rejects that good. In doing so he commits his first great sin and destroys Lucy Gray. But he is unable to entirely destroy her. In fact, he’s never even sure if he killed her. Instead, she stays on as a ghost girl, her influence haunting District 12. From her influence rises Katniss, the Girl on Fire, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the songbird Snow killed. Katniss is symbolically linked to Lucy Gray, but at the same time wholly distinct. Through her, Lucy Gray haunts Snow as punishment for his crimes. This link between the Songbird and the Mockingjay represents the way that Snow’s evil paved the way for his own destruction, but more importantly it shows that the things which he rejects and opposes and tries to kill cannot be destroyed. The spark of hope cannot be put out, beauty will not be tamed, and rebellion cannot stay dead in the face of tyranny. Those things were always destined to destroy him. Though The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes may end with “Snow lands on top,” Lucy Gray is the persistent reminder that “The show’s not over until the mockingjay sings.”

#the ballad of sonbirds and snakes #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #katniss everdeen

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deobienthusiast · 3 years

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greatest blessings

• pairing: lee jangjun (golden child) x female reader

• word count: 8,902 words

• genre: mafia!au, gang member!au, angst, fluff

• rating: PG-13

• warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of murder, gun violence, curse words, mentions of blood ⚠️IF ANY OF THIS MAY BOTHER YOU PLEASE DO NOT ENGAGE!!⚠️

• notes: (yall the this the longest fic i’ve ever written) also the is going to say joochan, but i remember you messaging to change it to jangjun🖤

• requested: yes | no by anon

For as long as you could remember, you were thrown into the world of danger. Your father, a notorious mafia leader, was the most respected, feared, and wanted man in South Korea. There was never a moment where you and your mother weren’t a target of some type of hostile fallout between your father and some other mafia members. Because of this, you never saw much of your father during your childhood. He kept his distance to keep you and your mother safe. In his place, he left his right hand guard, Dongwoo.

Dongwoo kept close watch of your mother and you, while training a young protégé. A boy named Jangjun. His father was a mafia guard and wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. Of course, Jangjun ended up having a huge falling out with his father, as he turned to Dongwoo as his father figure. You grew to like Jangjun. He was a lively boy with a giant personality. He lived to make people smile or laugh. Jangjun was always joking or yelling at the top of his lungs. When he needed to be serious, however, his temperament switched. Jangjun followed orders. He never shied away from a job.

As he got older, he grew into a devilishly handsome and incredibly talented man. And you took notice, big time. Jangjun truly blossomed, and in his eyes, so did you. You weren’t the quiet little girl that constantly ran to mommy with every tiny taunt made towards your giant thick-rimmed glasses. Instead, you grew into yourself. Thickened your skin, and became your father’s daughter. Every taunt Jangjun made now was met with a snarky remark that made his lips turn up into a smile. He thought you were beautiful.

You two were well aware of your feelings, but too stubborn to admit it. Jangjun because he didn’t want to believe in fate, and you because your father didn’t want you to be with someone that was a part of the mafia, a part of this life. A life full of danger and uncertainty. Unfortunately for him, your heart had other plans. You and Jangjun came clean with your feelings, and fell in love. As cheesy as it sounds, Jangjun was your other half. His personality never changed, and his love for you grew. Jangjun, himself, grew into a very powerful man. He became part of a mafia gang of his own which further fueled your father’s anger at your relationship.

Much to his dismay, you both got married. A small ceremony just on the outskirts of town. The only people present were your mother, Dongwoo, and Jangjun’s members. Your father being too bitter and self absorbed to show up. Not that you minded. Nothing, not even your father would ruin that day for you and Jangjun. You never bothered to get in touch with him after the wedding. Only opting to find out how he was through your mother. That’s how your father found out the news of the birth of your daughter, Mina.

If people thought Jangjun was head over heels for you, you would always tell them to watch how he acted with your daughter. Jangjun took being a dad to a whole other level. His senses heightened, and he took every precaution necessary to keep you and Mina safe. His whole world became about that little girl. A spitting image of her father, she had his bright smile, boisterous personality, and dark brown eyes. She was a crowd favorite, especially to Jangjun’s members like Bomin and Donghyun. When the members were around, they were the first two she ran too. Jangjun would always joke and say his daughter loved them more than she loved him. No one could be fooled though. No one would take her father’s place.

“Daddy!” You heard Mina yell as you folded up clean laundry in your bedroom.

Your husband’s laugh filled the large house you lived in as he made his way into your shared bedroom, your daughter perched in his arms. Identical facial expressions of crescent moon eyes and wide smiles made their way towards you as you gave both of them an amused look.

“Guess who I found hiding under daddy’s desk in his office?” Jangjun asked with a smile.

Your eyes went to the little girl who now had an innocent smile on her face, one she definitely learned from her father. “Office? Mina, you know daddy’s office is off limits.”

The little girl pouted, resembling her father through and through as she spoke in her little voice. “I was playing hide and seek with Joochan-ie.”

You and Jangjun laughed as he muttered. “Of course it was Joochan. Who else would let her get away with anything.”

Giving him a pointed look, you spoke. “Perhaps her father?”

Jangjun smiled at you before tickling the little girl’s stomach making her laugh. He set Mina down before kissing her forehead.

“Now, go play. With Bomin this time, since he’s the only one that listens.” Jangjun told her as her little legs carried her out of the room.

Just as she got past the threshold, you sighed. “You have to remind them not to let her into your office.”

Jangjun pulled you into his arms as he hummed, kissing your forehead. “I will.”

Kissing you softly, he pulled you even closer as you laid your hands on his chest. “I’m serious, Jun.”

Your husband pecked your lips once more. “I know you are. I’ll tell them. I promise.”

You nodded, feeling a little better at the situation. It wasn’t the area itself you were worried about, but rather the objects occupying the area. Jangjun kept all his weaponry in a locked closet in his office, but one pistol stayed perched under his desk in case of emergency. Your daughter’s knack of exploring (which she also got from Jangjun) worried you sometimes. You didn’t want her to ever find that weapon. She was too young to know any of the business her father was in, and you two planned to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Jangjun laid another soft peck, this time to your forehead before getting a notification on his phone, letting him know someone was here.

“Daeyeol?” You questioned, making your husband nod as his grip around your waist loosened.

He sighed before giving you a small smile and heading downstairs. You finished up with the laundry, putting things away where they were supposed to, stopping in Mina’s room to put her things away, before making your way downstairs. Passing by Jangjun’s closed office door, you stopped momentarily, wanting to sneak a listen, but remembered the talk your father had given you when he first caught you doing it when you were five. It scared the living daylights out of you, and since then you hadn’t done it. You never let your curiosity get the best of you.

You walked through the living room before landing in the kitchen, you looked over to the dining room and smiled. Your daughter sat on Bomin’s lap, coloring in a coloring book the boy must have pulled out as he watched. Upon hearing your footsteps, he looked up, giving you a smile. You returned it as you entered the kitchen, still watching the two. Bomin was on the newer side of this whole mafia thing. Being only 20 years old, he was raised in a mafia family, but much like your daughter, he was shielded away from it all. Bomin was tall, slim, and just looked like a baby. Sporting a very youthful look, it surprised people to hear his voice as it didn’t match his look at all. Bomin was on the quieter side, he opened up to the others, but to you he remained quiet. Very respectful and only speaking when spoken too. Mina loved the boy and managed to pull a more playful side out of him. This prompted Jangjun’s leader, Daeyeol, and Jangjun himself to have Bomin be in charge of the little girl.

“Hungry, Bomin?” You asked softly, making the boy lift his head from the very secretive conversation he was having with your daughter.

With a shake of his head, he spoke. “No thank you, noona. I appreciate the offer, though.”

You watched him bring his attention back to the little girl on his lap. One arm was wrapped protectively around her little body, holding her close to him as she continued to color and point out the different colors. Despite the boy politely turning down your offer, you still made him something to eat, along with the others. Once finished with all the meals, you moved towards the table. Neither your daughter nor Bomin stirred at the movement as you sat down, getting a closer look.

“Look at my picture mommy! Bomin-ie helped me.” Mina exclaimed, holding up the picture decorated in various colors like purple, black, brown, pink, and orange.

You smiled as you gently took it from her. “This is beautiful Mina! Truly a work of art. It’s good to know that you at least got something from me.”

Bomin chuckled at your underlying dig towards your husband as you stood to hang it on the fridge with her other colorful pictures. Just as you finished, you heard a door slam from upstairs as your husband came down the stairs, looking rather frustrated. Taking one last quick peak at Bomin and Mina, you walked towards him.

“Hey, is everything okay?” You asked, laying a hand on his cheek.

Jangjun physically relaxed as he leaned into your touch. “Daeyeol wants me to leave town for two days with him and Tag.”

“Leave? You haven’t left town since Mina was born.” You said, your hand dropping back to your side.

“I know. I told Daeyeol that I’m not comfortable leaving you two alone, but he insisted that there isn’t any other way for this job to work unless I leave with him.” Jangjun softly spoke, looking over your shoulder to eye Bomin and Mina.

“Jangjun, we weren’t finished talking.” You heard Daeyeol’s soft, yet stern voice resonate through the house as he made his way down the stairs.

With him came seven other guys as they watched the encounter. Jangjun’s frustration bubbled over again as he grunted, heading for the kitchen.

“Jangjun, you have to come with us.” Tag spoke softly.

Your husband shook his head. “I’m not leaving them.”

His hand raised as he gestured towards you and Mina.

“And I’m not giving you a choice. You’re our best gunman, you’re needed for this job. Besides the guys will be here to watch over the house and the girls.” Daeyeol told him, hoping to ease his nerves more.

This time, Jangjun’s emotions got the better of him as he slammed his fist down on the marble countertop. The loud noise caused you to jump and Mina to quiet as her head snapped towards the kitchen. Bomin quietly watched as well. You looked at Donghyun as he nodded at you.

“Bomin, take Mina upstairs.” Donghyun said as the boy stood up.

Mina wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck, hugging tightly to him as he headed for the staircase.

“Go with them.” You whispered to Donghyun as he obeyed almost immediately.

You waited for the three to disappear before speaking. “Jangjun, if you’re really needed for this then you have to go.”

His head shot towards you. “No I don’t. I’m not leaving you and Mina here alone.”

“We won’t be alone, and you know that.” You told him softly.

He let out a sigh of frustration as you and Daeyeol proceeded to try and ease him into the job. After a few minutes of consolation, Jangjun finally gave up his fight and headed upstairs to pack.

Daeyeol watched him before looking at you. “You know I wouldn’t pull him away from you if I didn’t have to.”

“I know. That’s why I helped you convince him. He’ll probably still complain, but it won’t be as bad.” You said making Daeyeol chuckle.

Jangjun came back downstairs, this time with your daughter in his arms as he walked over to you. Tag and Daeyeol took his bags.

“We’ll be in the car.” Tag said as he headed out the door.

Mina watched the two guys before noticing the bags in their hands.

“Are you leaving daddy?” She asked softly.

Jangjun set her down as he kneeled in front of her. “Yeah, I am baby. I won’t be gone long though, okay.”

She didn’t bother giving him an answer, rather she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, giving him a hug. They pulled apart as she gave him a kiss on the nose, making your husband smile.

“I love you, daddy.” Mina said as Bomin picked her up.

Jangjun poked her little nose as he whispered back to her. “I love you more, mini me.”

Bomin took Mina back upstairs as Jangjun turned to you. “And you, how am I going to be able to leave my adoring wife?”

Rolling your eyes, you laid your hands on his chest. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Jangjun kissed you as you whispered so only he would hear you. “Be careful and please come back to us.”

He nodded his head, pecking your lips once more before speaking. “I promise. I love you.”

You uttered those words back to him as he headed for the door. He gave you one last smile before speaking to Y who stood by the door.

“Take good care of them.” He more than ordered as the older male nodded.

Y closed the door, locking it behind him as you let out a sigh and prepared for the next two days.

Though it felt like years, hours had passed since Jangjun had left and you were feeling the full effects. Jangjun hadn’t left town in three years, vowing to never leave you or Mina by yourselves. You knew, however, that if duty called, Daeyeol would look to him first.

You started to prepare dinner, knowing that eventually you’d get complaints about seven men plus a three year old toddler being hungry. As you cooked, you heard someone enter the kitchen.

“Kimchi fried rice,” You heard Y say. “Why am I not surprised?”

You looked over your shoulder. “As if Mina will eat anything else.”

He smiled. “Like father, like daughter.”

You nodded to yourself as you heard the metal legs of the barstools scrape across the tile floor.

“I’ve gotta give you credit.” Y started. “Jangjun is much more grounded with you around.”

You grinned. “Is that a good thing?”

He nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. Some people think that mafia members can’t handle family and work, but Jangjun is a prime example that both can work together.”

You thought about what Y had said as he continued to talk. Jangjun always made sure to make time for you and your daughter. He was an exceptional father. He never missed a birthday or anniversary. Any special occasion, Jangjun was there. Jangjun literally did everything to keep you and Mina safe.

“He’s definitely a hard worker. He’s also the best father. Mina adores her dad.” You quietly replied.

Y smiled to himself as you spoke again. “Do you ever want to have kids someday?”

He looked at you for a moment before bringing his gaze down to the marble countertop, tracing his fingers over the pattern. “I want to. It’s hard though. Finding someone that accepts my lifestyle.”

“That’s what you’re doing wrong. You don’t find someone that accepts your lifestyle. You find someone that accepts you.” You told him.

“Is that what you did with Jangjun?” Y asked.

Just hearing his name made you smile. “You could say that.”

“Hyung,” Someone said from behind Y as you both turned to the voice.

“Seungmin, what is it?” Y asked him.

“It’s Mina.” He said barely above a whisper as you dropped the spoon you were holding.

Racing up the stairs, you pushed past the two boys with your daughter as you dropped to your knees in front of her. She held a tight grip to the doll she was playing with as you checked her.

“You’re okay? You’re not hurt?” You asked quickly.

“Of course I am, Mommy.” Mina said with a giggle.

“But Seungmin said,” You started turning towards the boy as he interrupted you.

“She’s fine. It’s-it’s what she said.” Seungmin counter softly.

Y looked at the boy. “What do you mean? What’d she say?”

“I mentioned reading her a story so she could go to sleep. She kept saying she was tired, but she said that when her daddy reads her a story, her friend is with her too. Her friend in the backyard.” Bomin spoke up.

You turned to your daughter as she smiled. “In the backyard? Baby, our backyard is gated, there’s no one in the backyard.”

Mina’s little head nodded quickly. “Yes there is mommy. A man. He’s the same size as Bomin-ie. He comes every time daddy reads me a story. He visited me last night.”

Your eyes doubled in size as you looked towards Donghyun and Bomin. “What is she talking about? Is she talking about Daeyeol?”

Donghyun shrugged. “She said the man always wore a mask and a black hat.”

“He says he knows daddy, and that he knows me too. He even knows my name. He knows you too.” Mina said excitedly.

You pulled Mina into your arms as Y and Donghyun made their way towards her window. The large window made for a view of the entire backyard. Picking Mina up from the floor, you held her tightly in her arms as the two men kept looking out the window. They talked amongst themselves as you felt your daughter shift in your arms.

“Mommy, am I in trouble?” Mina asked quietly, almost too afraid to speak.

“You’re not in trouble, Mina.” Bomin spoke up before you could as Mina’s dark brown eyes trailed from your face to his.

“You promise?” She asked again.

Bomin nodded with a small smile. “I promise.”

“Mina should sleep with you tonight. We’ll put Joochan and Y outside your bedroom door. The rest of us will keep watch at every corner of the house that we can. If this guy comes back, we’ll be waiting.” Donghyun told you as you nodded.

Heading for your bedroom, you grabbed Mina’s favorite teddy bear and a pair of pajamas. You kept a close eye on her as you fed and then bathed her. As she fell asleep, there was a knock on the door. You opened it as Donghyun gave you a small smile.

“Is Mina asleep?” He asked softly.

You nodded. “She fell asleep about ten minutes ago.”

As if sensing the uncertainty in your tone, Donghyun spoke. “Hey, don’t worry. We aren’t going to let anything happen to Mina, or you. Jangjun would have our heads if we did.”

You laughed slightly as you nodded, agreeing with him.

“Just get some sleep.” He reassured as you thanked him.

As you closed the door, you took precautions and locked it behind you as you sighed, crawling into bed. You laid a kiss to your little girl’s head before laying your head on your pillow and drifting off to sleep.

You awoke to a sound just outside your door as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Looking at the digital clock on the nightstand, you let out a sigh, getting up to go to the bathroom. When you opened the door, Y and Joochan had moved to the bottom of the stairs surveying the perimeter of the house. You took the opportunity to use the bathroom, bumping into Bomin on the way. He gave you a soft smile as you spoke.

“Will you watch over Mina really quick? I still don’t want to leave her alone.” You asked softly.

Bomin nodded as he headed for your bedroom. You quietly slipped into the bathroom as you looked over your reflection in the mirror. Running a hand through your hair, you turned on the faucet, running your hand under the cold water. Splashing some water on your face, you turned the water off and wiped off your face. You let out a sigh before opening the door. As you headed back for your bedroom, you quietly opened the door and jumped at the tall figure in the corner.

“Oh, Bomin you scared me.” You whispered out as the figure just stood.

“Bomin,” You whisper out again as the figure spoke.

“Not Bomin, my dear. Your friend is right there, by the door.” The voice spoke, prompting you to look at the ground.

Sure enough, Bomin’s body lay limp against the wall as you dropped next to him.

“Bomin, Bomin, hey can you hear me?” You leaned your head next to his chest, checking for a heart beat.

“Your friend is fine. I didn’t kill him. Not yet at least.” The man spoke.

You shook your head. “Don’t hurt him. He’s just a child.”

The man nodded. “I won’t hurt him, so long as you give me what I want.”

You looked at the open bedroom door before hearing the man tsk.

“Nuh uh. Close the door quietly. Don’t let anyone know I’m here.” He started.

You reached up for the doorknob, closing the door slowly as the figure made its way towards your bed, carefully sitting on the edge. You breath hitched in your throat as the body leaned over your daughter.

“Boss was right. She looks just like her father.” The man said.

“You’re the man my daughter’s been seeing. You’ve been watching her.” You told him with a fearful tone.

“Well of course. The boss wanted to make sure you didn’t leave town with Jangjun.” He told you.

You shivered at the way your husband’s name sounded on his tongue. “What do you want from me?”

Even in the darkness, you could make out the grim smile that was now perched on his face. “You, my dear are going to take your daughter and come with me. You two are very valuable, and it will help us get what we want from your husband. We’ll take your friend, too. Just for extra insurance.”

You felt a tear roll down your face as you watched another man crawl through your window. “We set up a diversion in the backyard. We’re all clear.”

Busting open the door, you scream. “Help! They’re in here!”

A pair of arms wrapped around your core as they pulled you back into the room, sticking a cloth over your mouth and nose. You struggled before falling limp, as everything went black.

When you came to, you were in a room blocked entirely in cement. The floor was cold underneath your body as you let your eyes adjust to the one single hanging light. It was bright enough to illuminate almost all of the room as you sat up. A pounding feeling took over your head as you groaned.

You looked around before spotting a chair in front of you with a boy tied up. You squinted to get a better look and gasped as you scrambled to your feet.

“Bomin! Bomin, hey, I’m right here. Look at me.” You lifted his hanging head, taking in the swollen eyes and busted lip.

The rope surrounding his hands and ankles were chafing the skin, rubbing it completely raw as the rope was starting to turn an orangish-red color. Bomin’s unconscious body stayed pinned to the chair as you continued to check him before stopping as you heard a lock rattle. A large door opened behind you as you kept your hands on Bomin’s legs, not bothering to turn around.

“I see you’ve noticed the work we did on your friend. He put up a good fight, but not good enough. Perhaps this life isn’t cut out for him.” A man said as you turned around.

The man looked familiar. Almost as if you had seen him before, but you couldn’t remember. His onyx colored eyes made you shiver as he spoke again.

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me. I’ve only known you your entire life. I’m a former acquaintance of your father’s.” He told you.

You shook your head. “I haven’t spoken to my father in years. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

The man chuckled. “He is. Oh he is. And he owes me something. You see, your father and I made a deal 20 or so years ago. A deal that required me getting a larger amount of money. As you know, your father is a very powerful man. The most notorious mafia leader. He’s worth a lot, and he has a lot. In exchange for what I gave him, he gave me two billion dollars. Just a mere quarter of what he has in total.”

You looked back at Bomin, feeling him stir slightly as you spoke. “What did you give him.”

The man leaned forward, his face being hit with the light as your eyes widened. “My son.”

You let out a gasp as it all hit you. Jangjun had never had the best relationship with his father. He never truly wanted to be in this life, so he never forgave his father for just leaving him with some strange family. Though he always said he’d have to thank him some day for it allowed him to meet you. You had a feeling that thank you was never going to come now.

“I haven’t talked to my son in almost two decades.” The man said.

“Jangjun cutting ties with you had nothing to do with me.” You told the taller male.

“Yes, but you were a big influence. You don’t talk to your own father. No wonder he decided not to talk to me. Had he decided to, this whole thing would’ve been taken care of. I wouldn’t have had to kidnap you, Jangjun and I would still have a good relationship.” He started.

You scoffed. “You still never told me why I was kidnapped. And where’s my daughter?”

“Mina is fine. She’s asleep in the main house with my wife. I wouldn’t dare hurt my granddaughter.” He told you.

“No, just your daughter-in-law. Right?” You countered.

He shrugged. “You don’t seem to understand. You are worth a lot of money. In fact you and your daughter are worth the exact amount I’m owed by your father. So if he won’t give me my money, then I’ll use you two to get it myself.”

“Killing us won’t get you your money.” You whispered.

“But selling you will. Shipping girls off to other countries for, we’ll say “work”, pays a lot. And people know who you are and who your father is. I’ve had people lined up to pay me even more than your father offered just to have you two. However, I choose not to be too greedy.” He told you with a smile.

The resemblance between Jangjun and his father was uncanny. Each time the man smiled it reminded you of your husband. The dark eyes and slightly raspy voice were also similar to Jangjun.

Bomin jerked slightly under your touch as you turned back to him. “Bomin, hey. You’re okay.”

“I’ll leave you to think about what I said. I’d get comfortable though. It might be awhile.” The man said as he headed for the door.

He opened it before peeking back in and throwing two rags and chemical cleaner towards you. “You can untie your friend. He shows no danger. You can also clean up the mess his blood made on my floor. I don’t want a stain.”

The door slammed shut behind him as you heard Bomin groan before mumbling out. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked quietly, not quite hearing him.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault.” He repeated louder this time.

You immediately shook your head, grabbing one of the rags to wipe at the blood on his face. “No. Bomin, no. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“They took Mina.” He whisper-cried with a sniffle.

“Mina’s fine. He told me she’s fine.” You whispered back.

He shook his head, drool and sweat mixed with blood fell from his face and mouth. “They’re gonna kill her.”

You froze at his words. “W-what?”

“I said, they’re going to kill her.” Bomin repeated, huffing out a groan at the way the muscles in his stomach contracted.

“How do you know?” You asked softly.

He attempted to lift his head, getting a look at your eyes as you gently held onto his face, keeping his head up. Your eyes pleading for him to continue.

“I came to in the van while they were driving us here. They were talking about you and your inheritance. You, you're worth a lot of money, but Mina isn’t. She’s not because,” You interrupted him.

“Jangjun is her father.” You whispered.

Your eyes had cast down to the suit pants he was wearing that were now battered in dried blood and dirt stains. You felt him nod in your hands.

“Mina is worth nothing to them. When your father dies, you get his estate, all his money. He left everything to you. Mina nor your mother are mentioned. Once they had sold you overseas, they were going to kill her.” Bomin breathed out.

Your hands started to shake as you lifted your head to meet his tired eyes. He coughed before speaking.

“You have to find a way to get out of here and get Mina.” He told you, making you shake your head.

“I’m not going to leave you. If we survive this, Mina would kill me.” You joked, making the boy crack a small smile. “We’re gonna get out here.”

Jangjun’s head hung low as he sat at the dark wood dinner table that sat in the middle of your dining room. In front of him was a picture taken on your wedding day. The look in your eyes that you were giving him made him feel at home and so so loved. He knew of course from the moment you agreed to go on a date with him that he was completed smitten over you. Jangjun didn’t want anybody else. He vowed to do anything to keep you safe. He did the same when Mina was born. Now, here he sat. Alone in his big house, after finding out the terrible news.

“How did this happen?” Jangjun asked calmly, scaring the others to no end.

Joochan gulped as he watched Jangjun’s fingers trace the cool black exterior of the picture frame holding your wedding picture. The guys noticed the way he ran his finger over your stomach in the picture. You were pregnant during the time you got married.

“I told you to watch over them.” Jangjun said.

All the guys nodded, but only one knew it was meant for him.

“I was. I-I did. We just,” Y started.

“You just what?” Jangjun countered, looking at him.

His face was stone cold. Eyes darker than usual. It made Y shiver.

“I, there was a small scrap in the backyard. They must have created a diversion. We headed to help Jibeom and Seungmin. It was all a set up though. When we checked upstairs, they had already left with Bomin and the girls.” Y said softly.

Jangjun stood up, making Y take a step back before Daeyeol came through the door.

“There’s someone at the gate.” Daeyeol said, walking through the front door. “They really want to speak with you. They said it’s urgent.”

“Who is it?” Jangjun asked, not taking his eyes of Y.

“Your father-in-law.” Daeyeol spoke, making Jangjun turn to him.

Jangjun nodded as Daeyeol opened the front door allowing Tag to enter with a man Jangjun had seen briefly in his lifetime, but still recognized.

“Mr. Choi, funny seeing you here.” Jangjun said.

Your father held a few inches on Jangjun as he looked around the large house taking in the other men with him. His eyes landed on your husband as his booming voice spoke.

“Lee Jangjun, nice to see you. I see you're doing well for yourself.” Mr. Choi said.

Jangjun scoffed. “I know you’re not here for small talk. What do you want?”

“More like what I have. I know my daughter and granddaughter were kidnapped under your guards supervision. I also know that you are unsure of who took them and where they are. Well I know.” He finished, catching Jangjun’s attention.

“You do? Where are they?” Jangjun asked, dark eyes wide with anticipation.

“Son, I’d sit down for this. Because it’s a lot.” Mr. Choi told him.

Jangjun listened, sitting in the chair he was previously preoccupying. His hand landed on the wedding photo, holding it down protectively.

“Where are they?” Jangjun asked again.

Your father shook his head. “When you were brought to me to be trained when you were younger, your relationship was already strained. You didn’t want this life, and you were forced into it. That being said, you grew into it. Your hatred led you to become the man you are today.”

Jangjun shook his head. “Your daughter did. Can we just get to the point please.”

“They were kidnapped by your father.” Mr. Choi said.

“W-what? No! There’s no way my father is even still alive. He had too many enemies!” Jangjun reasoned.

“No. It was your father. He is still alive. You see, you ended up in my care, being trained by Dongwoo and I because your father wanted you to become a mafia leader of your own. In exchange for giving you to me, I was going to give your father a lot of money. I saw a lot of potential in you, and promised your father you would be a huge success,” Your father stopped to look around the house again. “I was clearly right. However, a dangerous enemy had made his way into Seoul, and I had to leave the country. I never got the chance to pay your father his money. Now he’s taking the girls.”

Jangjun looked at him confused. “What will that solve?”

“Because they’re worth something.” Jibeom spoke up.

Mr. Choi nodded. “Technically, my daughter is. Mina isn’t. At least not yet. My will leaves everything to my daughter. That’s the money I owe your father plus more. I’ve had overseas enemies that have been dying to get their hands on her. With her in your father’s custody, they are probably swarming the phones in negotiations.”

“What about Mina?” Jangjun asked.

You father let out a sigh. “If she’s no value to them, then your father will kill her.”

Jangjun felt his heart stop at the mere thought of someone hurting his daughter or you. He wouldn’t be able to live without the two of you.

“Okay. So we go get them.” Jangjun quickly said as the members nodded, getting ready to prepare themselves.

Mr. Choi spoke up. “Hold on. You don’t need to be going to get her.”

Jangjun looked at him with fire in his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

“Because you’re the reason she got kidnapped.” Your father said.

Jangjun was fuming at his words as he yelled, venom dripping from every word. “No. You’re the reason they got kidnapped. Not me. I didn’t make a deal with my father, you did. I didn’t promise him money then fall back on my word, you did. You’re to blame for all of this. So if you think I’m going to entrust my wife and daughter into your hands, you are surely fucking mistaken.”

No one had ever talked to your father in the manner Jangjun just did. He was too feared, too respected for people to disrespect him. He wasn’t used to someone not falling to their knees begging for his mercy. Jangjun gave him one last look before him and Daeyeol started throwing out orders. All the guys prepared, Jangjun yelling out things to grab and ordered people around on a plan before everyone stopped and looked at Mr. Choi.

“Where are they?” Jangjun asked again.

Your father cowered slightly at Jangjun’s tone before speaking. “At least let me go with you. So I know that they are okay.”

Jangjun looked at Daeyeol who sent a shrug his way as he sighed. “Fine. But stay out of the way.”

The man nodded as they all headed for the door. They got into separate cars, Jangjun opting for the one your father got into as they drove off the property. Jangjun’s head perched against the window watching the buildings fly by as he messed with the cool, black metal on his left ring finger. He brought his ring-clad hand up to his mouth, kissing the metal gently as he whispered to himself.

“I’m coming for you baby.”

You felt around the walls of the room you were in, hoping to find some type of fault in its build as Bomin watched you. The swelling in his eyes had gone down only slightly, but was still very prominent. The feeling was starting to get back to his hands and arms as he would lift them every so often to rub at his legs. He would grunt each time his hands ran across his torso or the cuts and bruises on his face.

“Bomin, just stay still. Moving isn’t going to help.” You chastised.

The younger boy nodded as he spoke. “Did you figure out a way out of here?”

Shaking your head, you spoke. “The door opens from the outside. It’s like it molds into the walls because I can’t even find a pattern where the door would be.”

Bomin lifted his head, looking around the room before his eyes landed on the light fixture hanging from the ceiling. “The light.”

You turned to look at him. “What about it?”

“How much of the room is it lighting up? Do we have another light source?” Bomin asked.

There were no windows, and with no signs of a door, you wouldn’t be able to know if there was an exit. “As far as I know it is.”

“You need to pull it from the ceiling.” Bomin said.

Tilting your head, you gave him a confused look. “I don’t understand.”

“The light fixture. The surrounding area around the part hooked to the ceiling, that could be your way out.” Bomin breathed out.

You walked towards the light, looking up at it before reaching up for it. The low hanging light was just out of your reach.

“I can’t reach it.” You said before jumping.

Your hand wrapped around the cord, pulling at the light fixture slightly.

“Harder,” Bomin prompted.

You yanked at the cord, hearing a tear from above you as your feet could finally fully lay flat on the ground. Bomin’s head lifted to look at the fixture before nodding to himself.

“Again.” He instructed.

You pulled on the cord a third time, this time harder than the rest as it dropped almost three feet down, pulling the wiring from the ceiling with it. Pieces of cracked cement lay by your shoes as you looked at the boy.

“Unscrew the bulb.” Bomin said. “Then break off the leg of that chair. Make sure to break it at an angle, you want a sharp end.”

Nodding, you unscrewed the fluorescent bulb, cursing silently at the temp of it as you carefully set it down in Bomin’s lap before reaching for the old chair. You looked back at Bomin as he mustered up enough energy to move his legs.

“You gotta break the chair.” He repeated.

“Bomin, I can’t,” He stopped you.

“Throw the damn chair at the wall. Hard! Then grab the sharpest piece from the rubble and hand it to me.” Bomin spoke again.

You nodded as you got a good grip on the chair. Lifting it up, you took some steps back before getting a running start. You threw the chair with everything you had at the wall. It landed with a crash, falling to the floor in pieces as you scrambled to find one. A piece from the top of the chair stuck out as it had snapped in half, providing a point at the tip. You quickly grabbed it, handing it to Bomin as you heard something unlatch.

Bomin tossed you the lightbulb as he whispered. “It’s going to hurt, but at the first chance run up to the guy and bust it in his face.”

You nodded preparing yourself as the door was pushed open. You went to read your arm back before recognizing the person who opened the door.

“Daeyeol,” You called out, making Bomin’s head snap towards the opened door.

Daeyeol’s face began to soften in relief before he noticed Bomin. “You guys are okay. Thank god you guys are okay. Jangjun, I found them!”

Daeyeol quickly checked over you before you pushed him away. “Check Bomin. Check him first, I’m fine I promise.”

Daeyeol didn’t hesitate to listen, dropping to his knees to check on the youngest member. It was no surprise to you as Daeyeol had always been more protective over Bomin. You headed for the door before stopping, immediately. Your eyes met those of your father’s making you take a step back before hearing a familiar voice.

“Daeyeol, where are you,” Jangjun stopped, making you let out a sigh of relief.

Feeling your feet take off before you could process it, you ran right into his arms. Your weight hit Jangjun like a truck making him grunt, but he didn’t lose his footing as he lifted you off the ground. Pulling you closer into him, he let his head fall into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your fingers into his dark locks, tugging at them slightly.

“Oh thank god! I thought I was going to lose you. I’m so glad to have you back in my arms.” Jangjun brought your feet back to the ground as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.

You kissed back before pulling away. “They still have Mina.”

“They got through all the guards in the house. Your father barricaded himself in a room with Mina. He’s not coming out.” Tag said as he jogged over to the two of you.

You looked past him at your father’s lingering stance before speaking.

“Daeyeol is probably going to need help with Bomin. He needs medical attention.” You told Y.

He nodded, heading back inside the bunker-type building as Jangjun grabbed your hand.

“Come on.” He started to pull you away from the building as he stopped in front of your father.

Your grip on Jangjun’s hand tightened as you looked at the man.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” He told you.

You didn’t look at him as you spoke. “I want to find my baby.”

Your father nodded as he turned towards the main house. He led you and Jangjun into the house as you were met with Seungmin.

“He locked himself in the master bedroom on the second floor. Mina’s in there with him. We aren’t firing any shots.” Seungmin said.

Seungmin led the way upstairs before stopping. Joochan and Donghyun were waiting by the double doors as your husband spoke.

Jangjun nodded. “We gotta break the door down.”

Joochan and Donghyun nodded as they took a step back. They both lifted a leg before kicking open the double doors to the master bedroom. When they fell open, you were met with your daughter and Jangjun’s father. He held Mina in his arms as everyone stopped.

“Jangjun. My, my, look at you. My only son. Look at the man you’ve grown into.” Jangjun’s father said.

Jangjun spoke lowly. “Give me my daughter. Now.”

You watched his grip on Mina tighten as she reached out towards you and Jangjun.

“Daddy.” She whined slightly, wriggling in his father’s grip.

Your father stepped past the both of you, making you look at him.

“Please, let her go. I’m the one that owes you something. Not them. This little girl, my daughter. They are innocent in this.” Your father pleaded.

Jangjun’s father chuckled. “You think I want anything to do with this child. She’s worthless. Take her.”

He set Mina down as she took off through the broken doors, immediately running to Jangjun. He picked her up, holding her close as she wrapped her little arms around his neck.

He kissed her forehead before handing her off to Donghyun. “Both of you, go to the car. Stay with her.”

They nodded as Jangjun waited until the two guys got downstairs before turning to your father.

He nodded as he spoke. “I’m here to give you the money I owe you, Lee.”

Jangjun’s father shook his head. “I don’t want your damn money. I want her.”

A slim, boney finger raised up to point at you as Jangjun’s wrapped a protective arm around your waist.

“She is worth more than anything. I gave you your child back, so you give me her.” Jangjun’s father continued.

Your father spoke up. “That wasn’t our deal.”

“You broke our agreement years ago. Time for new negotiations. Don’t you think?” Jangjun’s father said before Jangjun looked at you.

He gave you a tender smile before whispering. “Don’t look.”

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his torso and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You felt him move slightly before hearing the click of a gun. Shutting your eyes, you jumped as two shots were fired off. Lifting your head, Jangjun looked at you as he pecked your forehead. You heard groaning behind you as you turned. Jangjun’s father lay on the floor clutching his leg as he let out another painful groan.

“Let this be a lesson to you.” Your father told him.

Jangjun kept his hand around your waist as he led you to the staircase before stopping. He turned back around, heading towards his father with his gun in hand before stopping in front of him, pointing the barrel right at his head.

“Don’t you ever come near me, my wife, or daughter ever again, or next time, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking head.” Jangjun told him, earning a look of fear from his father as he tucked the gun back into the waistband of his pants.

He walked back over to you, as you headed down the stairs and outside of the house. Jangjun kept his grip on you as you, him, and your father got into a car.

“Daeyeol took Bomin to the hospital. I told him we’d meet him there.” Jangjun spoke softly, as to not spook you.

“Where’s Mina?” You asked.

He turned to point at the car through the back windshield as he countered. “She’s with Joochan and Donghyun. They’re going to follow us.”

You nodded, leaning into Jangjun as he pecked the top of your forehead. Your father sat up front as Y drove, watching the two of you through the rear view mirror. He sighed to himself as he collected his thoughts throughout the drive.

As the car pulled into the drive of the hospital, you and Jangjun were the first two to jump out and head into the hospital. Daeyeol spotted the two of you as he walked up to you. The rest of the crew had joined inside the emergency room as he spoke.

“They took him back and admitted him.” Daeyeol said softly.

Jangjun nodded. “How bad is he?”

Daeyeol sighed. “Three broken ribs, a fractured orbital bone, a cracked nose, lacerations around his wrists and ankles. Surprisingly, he had no internal bleeding or head trauma. They said he’ll be fine.”

Donghyun was the last to enter the hospital, Mina perched on his hip as he walked up to you. You smiled, thanking him quietly as you took her from his arms. You held her close, laying a hand on the side of her head as you kissed her temple. Jangjun pulled you into him, gently pulling Mina down to kiss her forehead as he whispered to you.

“I’m so glad you both are okay. I would’ve been lost without you.” Jangjun said quietly.

You smiled, pecking his lips lightly before hearing a door open. A nice looking lady came out, wrapped in a long white coat as she spoke.

“Are you Choi Bomin’s party?” She asked, making all of you nod. “Great. Well as I told Mr. Lee before, Bomin is going to be just fine. He just needs a lot of rest and time for healing. He’s very lucky. Though his injuries were serious, they weren’t severe.”

“Can we see him?” You asked softly.

The doctor smiled. “Of course. Try not to overwhelm him though, okay?”

You all nodded as Daeyeol looked at everyone. “Jangjun, you can go first if you’d like?”

Jangjun inhaled slightly before nodding as he looked at you and Mina. “Do you want to come with me?”

You nodded as the three of you headed for the room. Jangjun opened the door gently before ushering the both of you in behind him. He closed it behind him as you walked over to the side of Bomin’s bed. Mina’s head lifted slightly, taking in who was laying on the small bed as she spoke.

“Bomin-ie.” She called out faintly.

It was loud enough for the boy to hear as he opened his eyes slightly turning to look at you. Bomin smiled as his brown eyes looked at Mina. She kicked slightly in your hold, letting you know she wanted to be put down. You sat her on the side of Bomin’s hospital bed as you whispered.

“This is where you have to sit right now, okay?” You asked her.

Her little head nodded as she spoke. “Are you sick Bomin-ie?”

The three of you laughed slightly as Bomin nodded gingerly. “I’m okay, mini me. Just a little down and out. I’ll be here for a little while.”

Mina pouted slightly. “But what about our tea party?”

Jangjun gasped slightly. “Oh no, not the tea party.”

You rolled your eyes at your husband as Bomin smiled. “Have Donghyun fill in for me, okay? I’ll be back soon though. I promise.”

He lifted his hand to hold out his pinky as Mina linked her tiny finger around his.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Bomin.” Jangjun said, looking at the younger boy.

Bomin smiled as Jangjun spoke again. “Thank you for keeping them safe. You risked your life for them.”

“When you put me in charge of Mina after her first birthday, I promised you I’d take a bullet for this little girl. I’d never go back on my word. You know that.” Bomin told him.

Jangjun nodded with a smile. “Thank you.”

Bomin grinned before speaking. “Just make sure I’m not in here for months. I hate hospitals.”

The three of you laughed before someone spoke. “You’ll be out of here in no time. I made sure that you got the absolute best care and best doctors and nurses working on you.”

Bomin’s eyes took in the man at the foot of his bed as he spoke in a confused tone. “Thank you.”

“Bomin, this is my father.” You said without looking at the man.

Bomin nodded as he relaxed slightly.

“Thank you for doing your absolute best to protect my daughter and granddaughter.” He told Bomin.

Your father turned to Jangjun as you rounded the bed. to stand next to him. Jangjun wrapped his arm around your waist, squeezing slightly in a sign of affection.

“Jangjun, I underestimated you. I never gave you a chance when my ex-wife told me that you and my daughter were getting married. Then she told me about Mina, and I knew I needed to get past my own reservations. You make my daughter very happy. You've both created a beautiful little girl who I must say looks, just like her father. Family is a person's greatest blessing. I know you have your own little family, but if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to be a part of it.” Your father said, making you and Jangjun look at each other.

Jangjun gave you a look that meant he was letting you decide as you smiled at him. You turned to your father as you spoke.

“It’s going to take some time, for us to move past everything and this, of course. But, I know Mina would enjoy getting to know her grandfather.” You told your father, watching a smile grow on his face.

He thanked you as Jangjun exhaled. “Well, I think it’s time to go home. What do you think?”

You giggled slightly, sparking a small smile from your husband as you nodded. “Just as long as you’ll be there.”

“Oh, absolutely. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. That was the worst day of my life. Now, time for us to go home and for me to never let go of you and Mina. Like, ever.” Jangjun told you, making you laugh.

He picked up Mina, who instantly cuddled into him as he pecked your forehead.

“My greatest blessings, that’s what you two are.” Jangjun whispered as he led the two of you back to your home, where he cuddled and held you close the entire night.

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #lsn.works #kpopscape #kpopficsnetwork #golden child #golden child jangjun #lee jangjun #golcha #golcha jangjun #golden child imagines #golden child scenarios

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter Fourteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 5k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

If the career districts had their hands on books like these, you would have been forced to read them. Mercilessly. Like, a whole couple of units just studying these useless things. They’re mostly published for the Capitol citizens--which is why they’re not supplied in districts--but imagine having everything you could possibly need to know, in a couple of books.

These handbooks are genius. Even if they’re meant for entertainment and not practical use, they’re fucking fantastic.

Every nine years, one of these books comes out. Inside, they have every tribute that had gone in for those nine years--which comes out to be two hundred and sixteen tributes in total. They have the names, ages, weights, heights, eye and hair colors. Who their mentor, stylist, prep team and district representative was, and so much more.

For example, for the year you won, they start with the tributes and their information.

District One, Deimos Chambers. Black hair, brown eyes. He was seventeen, six-foot-one, with a weight of one hundred and seventy five. His mentor was Gloss, and as for the rest, it seems a little unimportant to you. However, his go-to weapon during training was always a sword, and he seemed to be very skilled in hand-to-hand combat.

Which all career tributes are skilled in, but whatever. You’re all taught to be proficient in something, and it’s mainly hand-to-hand. You’ll hardly see a career tribute try and do shit from far away. You know you wouldn’t bother all that much. From far away, you risk the chances of missing, up close, you can kill them in one goddamn shot.

Deimos’ score was a whopping ten, which is basically what all the comprehensive people had gotten. In his interview he wore all black, and when the lights had been shut off momentarily, the glow in the dark constellations came to life. And it wasn’t that bullshit green color either. It was white, and looked like there were actual lightbulbs behind it all, but the stylist was just creative.

It lists the people he chose to be allies with: Alhena, Zeke, and yourself. How many he killed during the bloodbath, which was one. But in total from start to finish it was three to four, counting assist kills. It says how he died, how many days he survived for, and what he placed.

Next is Alhena Hurley. Brown hair, blue eyes. She was sixteen, five-foot-seven, weighing in at one hundred and thirty five. Her mentor was Cashmere, respectively. Her chosen weapon inside of the training center was a mace, and her special note was that she was strong.

“Not emotionally.” you mutter, snickering to yourself as you continue reading.

Alhena got a score of nine, her interview dress was silver, with black specks on it--which is more or less the opposite of what Deimos had. She killed two people in the bloodbath, and that would stay her number for the rest of the games. She died because she got killed on the third day by someone who was hiding in the trees.

On the District One page, it holds both Deimos and Alhena. Pictures of what they wore during the reaping, train station, parade, interview and inside of the arena. Along with their special picture that would indicate that they were dead. The next page holds their family and friend interviews--if they had any--with the questions that Caesar asked and the answers given by their loved ones.

Then, there’s District Two, starting off strong with Zeke. Blonde hair, brown eyes. Seventeen, six foot on the dot, weighing roughly one hundred and sixty pounds. You guys had the same mentor, so it was Enobaria. He was boring and chose a sword, and his special skill was that he was always moving. More or less, he was quick.

Training score of ten, his suit was a bronze color, while the dress shirt was actually black. It was sorta metallic in the light. Zeke managed to kill one person in the bloodbath, and came out to two to three at the end. And he obviously placed second, because you were the one that killed him so that you could win.

And then there’s yourself. (Y/n) Rosecelli, sixteen. You had fairly short hair when you went inside of the arena--just so that it wouldn’t be grabbed and used against you. You were pretty tall, around the recommended weight group--although, that didn’t really matter in the end--and your mentor was Enobaria. Your chosen weapon inside of the training center was the sai’s and your special talent was being a know-it-all.

You scored a ten, got the same metallic bronze color of a dress with the matching black. Inside of the arena you had killed eight people, placing number one. At the very top of the page it says ‘WINNER!’, like it’s some fucked up game and not a fight for your survival.

It had the pictures and interviews as the others did, but with yours it’s extra special. You get the second interview by Caesar and what outfit you had worn for it. A small section for all the highlights inside of the arena, and then the victory tour, with the celebration at the mansion. All the headlines that you had gotten for being inside of the Capitol ‘willingly’.

And there’s also close-up pictures of all the tattoos you had gotten while you were there too.

It makes you sick knowing that they had produced these for entertainment, when it really could have been for the betterment of future tributes. Apart from all the useless shit they had for profiling the tributes, they literally had their battle plans.

Like for Finnick, it says that he used a fishing net while he and the opponent were in water. He’d get them tangled, and then when he was sure they couldn’t hurt him, he’d just kill them with his super expensive trident. And all the tributes didn’t know to be afraid of him until it was too late.

Just like with Johanna too. She played stupid for her entire time inside of the Capitol, and a little bit into the games to draw people in. She purposely scored low on her private training session--which is no doubt a big setback sponsor-wise. But then she became a killing machine, and almost a legend of sorts.

It made tributes wary of those who pretended to be stupid like that. Gave away their entire motive, because Johanna had done it first, and she won because of it. Anyone who did pose a threat early on would get killed.

It’s the exact reason why you went after the District Four tributes when you did. Your games were directly after Finnick’s, and the thought of one of those fish-eating fuckers getting their hands on you like that was terrifying. So, the only way to eliminate the chance of that happening, is to get rid of the only people who really know their way around water, and nets, and fishing.

Finnick likely hated that, the fact that you went after them specifically when you had the chance. However, you know deep-down that he appreciated that you wouldn’t let them suffer. You just wanted them dead immediately to get rid of the chance of them still being alive. You wouldn’t move from the bodies until the cannons had gone off.

Honestly, your allies should have killed you when they had the chance. If you were smart enough to stand over tributes to make sure that they were dead before moving on, that should have been a red flag. Even when they had wanted to leave tributes to bleed out and die, you’d be the one to finish them off.

Not to mention, you marking your arm after every broadcast of The Fallen was a whole new level of insane. And it’s not like they didn’t notice it or anything, they just chose not to point it out. They knew what it was for and all, but they didn’t say anything.

Someone clears their throat, making you look up from the handbook. You’re not really surprised to see Finnick standing there, in the same white scrubs that you’re wearing.

“Good afternoon.” you flip the page, landing right onto the District Four tributes from your games, “Or evening, I can’t tell in this coffin anymore.”

“The nurses tell me you haven’t left your room in a couple of days.” he doesn’t move from the doorway.

You give him a glance, “Why would I? Peeing in my own bathroom is just the same as the one down the hall. Both have cold toilet seats and smell like cleaning products.”

Finnick cracks a smile, coming into the room now, “What’re you reading?”

“Hunger games handbooks.” you hold it up for him to see briefly, “This is the year I won, and these are the tributes you mentored.”

Finnick comes over, and you turn the book so he can read it a little.

Brook Giles, fifteen, five-foot-eight, around one hundred and fifty six pounds. He has bleached brown hair and blue eyes. His training score was a nine, he wore a classic light blue and white suit during his interviews. His go-to weapon was a sword inside of the training center and he died on the first day because you killed him.

“One of my first takeouts,” you watch his face, wondering if he’ll get mad if you talk about it so carelessly, “It was almost fun.”

Finnick meets your eyes, “You were scared, just like the rest of them.”

“I killed him because he reminded me of you.” you then turn to the girl, “And so did she.”

Mira Osborne, sixteen, blonde hair and green eyes. Five-foot-five, one hundred and forty pounds. She wore a white dress that barely went to her knees, some blue accents here and there. She scored an eight, her go-to weapon was a spear. One kill, and only a few days later she’d die because you’d find her hiding in a cove.

“I was fifteen when I watched you win, and I knew that the following year I’d likely be picked to volunteer. I realized that I didn’t know how to swim at all, and the thought of ending up in a net, scared and drowning was more terrifying than anything I had come across up until that point of my life.” you smile, looking at Finnick now, “So, I dug a hole in my backyard, filled it with water and taught myself how to swim.”

Finnick stares, as if he doesn’t know if you’re kidding or not.

You aren’t.

“Of course, as extra precaution I chose to go after them first. Anyone who got in the way was an added bonus to my kill streak. I hunted Mira like she was a fucking deer and I was starving.” Finnick’s silence is what you expected for telling him information like this, and you’re not even done yet, “And had you not been my soulmate, you, Mags, Katniss, Peeta and Johanna would have ended up just like her.

“And I wouldn’t have stopped until you were all dead.”

Finnick straightens up, stiff. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but snaps his mouth shut.

Smug, you smirk, “What? Did you suddenly realize that I’m exactly who I told you I was?”

Finnick turns to leave, and you wait patiently as he goes towards the door frame. But then he grabs the chair by it, and takes a seat. Although, just by looking at his body language, he doesn’t want to be here. And he doesn’t want to let you win this either.

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you flip the book open again, “You’re making a grave mistake.”

“Stop telling me that.”

You glance up, “Is it because you know that I’m right and you don’t want to admit it? You know you’re leaving a nice, capable girl that would love to settle down, have kids and grow old with you. For someone who’s an insufferable bitch that hates the life she’s been given, and everything that she’s ever cared for gets killed or leaves her.”

“Is that why you won’t let me at least be friends with you?”

You take in a deep breath, “No, I don’t want you near me at all because you’re you. You’re Finnick Odair, darling of the Capitol. You’re Finnick Odair, the youngest victor in history who was also given the most expensive gift ever sent inside of the arena.” you laugh, “Oh! And you’re Finnick Odair, the man who also exposed Snow for who he is. Which lets you be in the spotlight more times that you’re worthy of.”

“So you think you’re not worthy?”

It’s like a blinding rage for a split second as you hurl the twenty-five pound book straight at Finnick, “I can’t fucking stand you!”

Finnick catches the book just barely before it hits him in the face, “(Y/n)--”

“No.” you cut him off, “No, you don’t get to pretend like you’re the voice of reason here, because you’re not. I’m a fucking nightmare, and even I know when enough is enough.” You get up and off of the bed, grabbing a hold of the necklace Tanith gifted you. As you begin to leave your safe place, you point at him, “I know what the fuck is wrong with you.

“You hopped from what you think is one broken girl to another. But news flash, Finnick, I’ve lost much more people,” you get down to his eye level, “I lost my entire family when I got home to District Two after I won my games. And it wasn’t just my immediate family, it was distant aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. Everyone who was even a shred related to me, is now dead. I’m the only one left of my fucking bloodline.”

You stand up now, “Losing Tanith is nothing compared to what I had lost then. I wish I had grown a pair and stepped off the fucking hovercraft to bury her, because doing that wouldn’t have been nearly as much as a hassle compared to dealing with you.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, and you don’t wait to see if he does either. You go straight out, ignoring the nurses that stare at you, because it really is the first time you’ve left the room in days. Everything is delivered to you, if there’s something you want, they’ll go and get it.

You have a vague idea of where you want to go, just getting there is going to be the problem. Typically, even if you do leave the room, someone will follow you out to keep an eye on you. You remember very vividly, a certain nurse standing at an arm's distance from you, during Coin’s last speech. When she announced the liberation of the prisoned victors.

A joke. This whole place is one fucking circus.

Just as you expected, the floor is pretty vacant. Here and there, someone will wander in and out, but that’s really it. You give a look behind you, confirming that there isn’t a nurse following you just yet. Then, you take off towards the elevator.

You barely remember how that one doctor used it, but it shouldn’t be that hard. You press the button, bringing the lift to you. When it stops and makes the annoying sound, you pull the guard rail up, and then step inside. Pulling it down again, you can see one of the nurses round the corner.

You give her a bright smile, punching the top floor, “Tata.”

The elevator starts moving up, and you give her a wave. Then, she’s blocked out by the cement flooring.

For the rest of the ride up, you cross your arms and wait, staring straight ahead. Your game plan is to head to the woods and don’t stop walking until you’re lost. Hopefully, no one will think to follow you out there.

The elevator stops at the top floor, allowing you to be met face to face with a band of people. They’re pulling up the guard rail before you even have a chance to reach for it.

Katniss is on a stretcher, her sister is hovering over her. Haymitch, Beetee, Gale and Boggs are nearby. Not to mention all the other people behind them.

“Geez.” you move out of the way, allowing Katniss to be wheeled in. Beetee and Gale fit themselves on, but Boggs and Haymitch don’t follow.

There’s not nearly enough room for them all to fit on the elevator, anyway. And apparently it gives Boggs to grab a hold of you before you can escape.

“Where are you going?”

You give him a kind smile, “I was given the okay to clear my head for a little.”

“Why are you still in scrubs, then?”

You make a face, shrugging, “Don’t ask me, they’re the ones that told me I was free to go whenever.”

Boggs doesn’t look convinced, and honestly, neither does Haymitch.

“Fine, I made a breakaway because I can’t fucking stand it in there.” you pull your arm from Bogg’s grasp, “For a district that’s all about equality, I don’t see why it should matter if I come up here to disappear for a little while. Or the fact that I’m being followed around when I do leave my room because you guys think I’m some sort of Capitol bootlicker.”

Haymitch laughs, “Same old (Y/n).”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” you then look at Boggs, “Don’t send anyone to follow me. I’ll come back when I feel like I’m ready to breathe stale air and eat shit for dinner.”

“Had you expressed your distaste for District Thirteen earlier, we might have taken you right back to District Two.” Boggs says.

You raise your eyebrows, “Earlier? When did you go?”

“A couple hours ago.” Haymitch says, “We just got back.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “Great, my only way out of this shithole and I wasn’t even aware of it. It’s funny how you brought the guy in the wheelchair and not the girl who literally grew up there her entire life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Bogg says, “Enjoy your walk.”

The elevator is back, and they step on. You turn around and leave, heading straight towards the opening. You can already hear the chirps of the birds and you’re nowhere near the door.

You pick up the pace, jogging right past the people that work out here. One of them waves, and you raise your hand in acknowledgement. The smile doesn’t even come across your face until the sun is in your eyes.

You take a sharp left, taking the trail for the most part. When you’re out of the sight of those inside of the building, you slow your pace, taking your time with getting lost.

You’re not even kidding when you say that it’s literal fresh air. This smells and tastes nothing like what goes underground. It’s stale, and out here it’s sweet. It must have rained a couple days ago or something because the plants have that smell to them--petrichor.

After a while, you detour from the trail, heading into the trees some more. You weren’t kidding when you said that you’d like to get lost. Being out here, wandering for hours on end is going to be more entertaining than reading those depressing handbooks. On top of that, you won’t have to see Finnick’s face for a while.

He really does get on your nerves. Him pretending that he knows every single detail about you, and claiming the opposite of what you tell him is pissing you off. You’re a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. You’d rather be told the heartbreaking truth than have someone lie through their teeth. So, you assume other people like it that way too. It cuts out a lot of unnecessary drama.

Unless it��s another person’s lie, then you’ll play along. If they want to fabricate things for their own gain, then have at it. Who are you to say no to them?

With Finnick, you’ve told him several times, over and over that you can’t stand him. And he acts as if that’s all going to magically change if he forces you to get used to his company or whatever. And you even dumbed it down for him, explained what the deal was. You don’t want him, you don’t need him. You want or need the help.

He doesn’t need to stick around after that wish has been fulfilled. All he’s doing is hurting his own feelings.

At this point, it might just be the challenge of getting you to like him. Show some kind of friendship just so he can drop it. You wonder if you fake it, he’ll finally leave you alone. You might just have to try that out until he realizes that you’ve had an entire personality flip.

Finnick would probably see that it’s a facade but might go along with it just to see how long you can keep it up for.

It’ll be your own personal game. How long can you be nice on the outside and calm on the inside until Finnick does something completely absurd that it makes you flip your shit? The time starts now.

You take a deep breath, going down the hill carefully, because you can clearly see the river. Off to the left some more are shoeprints and the trail that you had supposedly detached yourself from. It doesn’t really matter anymore, as long as you can sit here and be by yourself, you’re fine.

You get as close to the water as possible, taking off the shoes and rolling up the scrubs. You let your legs sit in the water as you lean back on your hands, staring at the scenery. It truly is a beautiful place here, but you’d never want to stay. Even if District Two is in shambles, you want to go back.

It’s your home. It holds so much grief and terror, and yet you just want to be back in the comforts of your own town. You want to see all your old neighbors before your victory. And see Victor’s Village overflowing with people always, no matter how annoying they were.

They’re all dead now. The only surviving victors from District Two is Lyme, and yourself. Everyone else is dead. Enobaria, Neysa, Tanith, Sorcha, Brutus, Edmond, Zavian and everyone else. Lyme had filled you in, that Snow had them all killed, and anyone else who proved valuable went with him.

Lyme and Paylor are lucky to be alive.

You’d literally give anything to talk to one of them again. To relive Tanith showing up uninvited in your house the morning of the reaping. You would have been so much more gentle than usual if you had known that it would have been the last real conversation without gloom hanging over your heads.

At least you’re lucky to say that your final goodbyes to her and Zavian wasn’t terrible at all. You were able to hug them both and tell them just how much they meant to you. Even if it wasn’t really heartfelt for Zavian, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world he could have heard.

And now they’re gone, and you’re still alive.

“Lucky me.” you murmur, finding a rock and tossing it into the water.

It’s funny how you only feel bad after all those people are dead. You would never in your right mind would have ever thought of being kind to those people until now. You’ve got some genuine guilt on your hands.

Edmond and Neysa really had tried to act in your best interest. They knew your limits, but you like to think that you can push it. Like Edmond making sure you’d be sober and not make a fool of yourself in front of all those people at the train station. He wasn’t doing it to restrict you. And even though he didn’t show it the best way, you could have at least tried to understand.

Neysa just wanted you to get good allies. She wanted to give you a fighting chance, and had you just followed what she wanted, you wouldn’t have been so waist-deep in shit with distrust from Finnick’s alliance. She knew something you didn’t when it came to the fact that you shouldn’t go off alone inside of the arena.

And yet you like to be independent.

There’s a crunching of leaves beneath boots, making you dip your head for a moment. You sigh through your nose, raise your head and then look over your shoulder. It’s exactly who you thought it would be, but he’s not wearing those white scrubs anymore. He’s also got some clothes draped over his arm.

You squint at him, “Are you wearing a suit?”

“Not the reaction I was expecting.” Finnick’s got his signature smile on his face, showing off his dimples.

You turn away before you can say something mean.

“I figured you’d rather run away in something much more fashionable.” Finnick stops behind you.

“How’d you know?”

You stare at the water for another moment, before pushing yourself up, brushing off the dirt from your butt, knowing full well that it’s still going to be there. In Finnick’s hands sit some familiar ripped black jeans, but a navy blue shirt.

“I see they have a pattern.” you hold up the shirt to see, “And it has a breast pocket too.”

“The pink shirt was thrown away since you destroyed the hem.”

“I was anxious.” you reason, placing the shirt back.

You take off the white scrub shirt, making Finnick turn his head away. A smile appears on your face, because he acts like he literally hasn’t seen you naked before--cough cough, after you got bit by spiders. Butt ass naked, it wasn’t just Finnick who saw you completely nude. You flashed the whole fucking country.

They probably couldn’t keep that in, and had to change the camera perspective after that.

You pull on the shirt, and then you pull off the bottoms, being sure to wipe your muddy feet on them to clean off your feet.

“So what made you follow me out here this time?” you ask, taking the jeans and pulling them on.

“Your stunning personality, as always.” Finnick looks over now, “And the fact that Haymitch and Boggs wanted me to follow you out here. I tried to tell them it wasn’t the brightest idea, but they had me do it anyway, gave you a thirty minute head start first, though.”

“Smart of them. I’m assuming you saw Katniss, then?”

“Seems like she’s been taking hit after hit lately.”

“Imagine getting strangled by your fiance.” you laugh, and Finnick joins in.

“Imagine getting punched by your soulmate.” Finnick gives you a look.

You roll your eyes, “Okay, you have to admit that you deserved it.”

“Whatever makes you feel better about yourself.”

You press your lips together, stomping your foot into the boots since you’re too lazy to untie them. You repeat the process with your left foot, which takes a lot longer. Finnick just laughs at you the entire time, since you refuse to go down and fix it yourself.

“Let’s get serious for a moment.” you look at Finnick, and he looks a little afraid, “It’s nothing bad, you might even think I’m lying for a second.”

“That’s not--why would you say that?” he laughs.

You take your dirty scrubs from his hands, “Because I think ahead.” you tap the side of your head, “Anyway, I honestly want to apologize for what I said earlier.”

Finnick’s eyebrows skyrocket, and you can’t help but to laugh, “You’re being serious?”

“I am.” you start towards the trail, “And I would also like to apologize for everything that I’ve said before that. And all my actions too, like if I punched you or threw something at you.”

“Where’s all this coming from?” Finnick asks, “I mean, I accept but you gotta tell me why.”

You look at him, “I was thinking before you came out here--obviously--that people aren’t really out to get me. I don’t have to be independent and fight by myself anymore, not when there’s people with the same… struggles. You get it, right?”

Finnick’s impressed, “I do.”

“You know, a genius once told me that I’m not as dislikable as I like to think.”

It takes Finnick a moment before it clicks in his head. He’s the one that said it to you.

“A genius, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

He nods, “Well, if we’re apologizing for things--”

“We’re cool, you don’t have to.”

Finnick ignores you, “--I’m sorry for approaching you so strongly.”

“You thought that it was the only way to get through to me, I get it. If someone has their walls up, sometimes the only way to get them down is if you meet their energy.”

“Do I even know you?” Finnick laughs.

“Oh, the glory of having an epiphany.” you smile, giving him a look, “So what are we dressed up for?”

“Your newfound freedom.”

“The fuck?” you laugh.

“Haymitch and Boggs convinced Coin to get you a little more freedom, which means that they weaseled me in too. We get a dorm, get to eat with the others and we can come up here whenever we want.”

“I have a feeling this is a little bit of bullshit.”

Finnick chuckles, “How did you know?”

“You can’t deceive me, I see through most of the shit you and your buddies do. I pay attention. I knew you, Johanna and the others were in an alliance before it was formed. And I also knew that you were planning a rebellion, and all you asked is if I was a loyalist.” you get back to walking, “You could even say that I’m a little insightful.”

“I’ll give you that one.” Finnick agrees, “Also, before we go back inside, you should know something else.”

“What did you do this time?” you look at Finnick.

He’s stopped walking, and so you do too, “I’ve ended things with Annie completely.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter fourteen

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ofstormsandwolves · 4 years

Text

5 things Jenny Calendar learned about Rupert Giles and 1 thing she learned about herself

All ages

Jenny/Giles, with mentions of Willow and Xander, and a brief appearance from Buffy.

Written for @jenny-calendar for her birthday

There are five times in Jenny Calendar's life when she discovers something new about Rupert Giles. But there's one time she discovers something new about herself...

References to I Robot, You Jane, Prophecy Girl, Uncle Dead and the Fourth of July (How I Survived My Summer Vacation), The Dark Age, Innocence, & Passion

Read on AO3

Rupert Giles was infuriatingly charming

One of the first things Jenny Calendar learned about Rupert Giles, besides his hatred of all things electronic, was that he was utterly, infuriatingly charming. And the most frustrating part of all was the fact he didn’t even seem to realise it.

Since the business with the demon in the computer, Jenny and Rupert had reached a sort of truce. He had admitted that, perhaps, knowledge of computers and technology could be beneficial from time to time, and she had admitted that if she hadn’t insisted on scanning the library books in the first place, Moloch probably wouldn’t have escaped. That didn’t mean that she was accepting responsibility, however, particularly as Rupert should have checked the books before scanning. That was his job, after all, as the school librarian.

But they were friendlier to each other now, when they saw each other in the faculty lounge. Just last week, Rupert had made Jenny a coffee when he saw her enter the room. It had been exactly how she liked it. She tried not to dwell too much on that, because Rupert getting her coffee right meant he’d been watching her, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. Except that she’d started to notice he would give her a slightly hesitant smile when she entered a room, and that he would make his excuses to go and talk to her rather than whichever teacher he was currently stuck with. Rupert Giles, as a rule, didn’t mingle much with the other teachers, but he did for her.

He would ask about her classes, despite understanding very little of what she told him, and she would ask about homework club. As far as she could tell, only Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg, and Xander Harris attended, but Rupert seemed very fond of the children. Jenny could vaguely see why, particularly with Willow. The girl was bright and bubbly and loved to learn, and Rupert would talk about the girl with a fond smile on his face whenever she was brought up. He would complain about Xander, but with a slight warmth to his voice that he’d probably deny if Jenny ever dared point it out.

But Jenny noticed that Rupert reacted most when Buffy was brought up. It was always somewhere between fondness, amusement, and exasperation, and he talked repeatedly about how she was clearly a bright girl and he just wished that she showed that in her grades. Jenny had no idea why Rupert was so taken by her, as the girl didn’t strike her as the reading sort. Then again, had she been pressed to say who she thought Buffy Summers would most hang out with, Jenny would probably lean more towards Cordelia Chase than Willow Rosenberg. Perhaps Buffy had hidden talents that Jenny hadn’t seen; Rupert certainly seemed to believe so, as he complained about Buffy’s lack of focus when doing her homework. Jenny had even caught him once or twice trying to defend the girl to Flutie, and later Snyder, both of whom had chalked the girl up to being a trouble maker. But Rupert obviously saw potential in her, and it was almost like he’d taken the girl under his wing.

And that brought Jenny right back to Rupert Giles being incredibly, frustratingly charming. His apparent concern for Buffy’s grades, the look of pride when Jenny told him how well Willow was doing in class, his somewhat-hidden fondness for Xander hanging out in the library... It was rare, in Sunnydale High, to find a faculty member so invested in the students, and between that and the small embarrassed smiles, the morning coffee he’d made her, and the stuttered questions about her classes, Jenny Calendar couldn’t help but find the man charming.

Now Jenny thought about it, there was something even worse than Rupert being unaware of his own charm. And that was that she didn’t hate it.

Rupert Giles- despite his fuddy-duddy outlook- was not a typical Watcher

Learning that Buffy Summers was the Slayer actually explained a lot. It also, Jenny supposed, went a little way to explaining Rupert Giles. But not entirely.

See, Jenny knew about Slayers, and Watchers, and how the whole ‘Chosen One’ worked. She had never actually met a Slayer, or a Watcher, but she’d always expected the Watchers to be stern and tense and scowling, while the Slayers were obvious warriors, with the height and poise to show for it. Instead, there was Rupert, who stumbled and stammered his way through approximately half of what came out of his mouth to her; and Buffy, who Jenny was fairly certain had very briefly been in the Sunnydale High cheerleading team.

Ok, so Rupert could be rather quite serious at times, and his tweed suits certainly screamed Watcher when Jenny stopped to think about it. Plus, his being Watchers Council could explain his fierce defensiveness of books, as well as his fear of all things technological. But what Jenny hadn’t expected was for a Watcher to allow their Slayer to have a social life, to involve friends in the Slayer’s business. And she certainly hadn’t expected a Watcher to become so wholeheartedly invested in their Slayer on an emotional level.

From what Jenny understood, Watchers were meant to be detached. Cool, calm, collected; delivering orders that the Slayer must follow. And, as far as Jenny knew, Watchers never seemed to get involved in fights. That was the Slayer’s job.

But she was beginning to realise that, despite the tweed and the books and the often-stern behaviour, Rupert Giles was not a typical Watcher. And nothing made that more apparent than his insistence he wasn’t going to warn Buffy about the Anointed One.

“What do you mean?” Jenny demanded, even as Rupert surveyed the weapons he’d retrieved from the book cage.

“Buffy’s not going to face the Master,” Rupert responded with a calm that made Jenny’s blood run cold. “I am.”

Buffy arrived then, and Jenny could only watch as the Slayer and the Watcher argued it out.

“Buffy, I’m not gonna send you out there to die,” Rupert said, and it sounded to Jenny like he had had some time to think about it, like they were talking about a previous conversation she hadn’t been privy to. “Now, you were right. I- I’ve waded around in these old books for so long, I’ve forgotten what the real world is like. I- It’s time I found out.”

A horrible sense of dread was growing in the pit of Jenny’s stomach, but she couldn’t seem to find her voice. What Rupert was talking about was... Was suicide, wasn’t it? And Buffy seemed to think so too.

“You’re still not going up against the Master.” The girl was quiet, calm, and Jenny felt like screaming at the pair of them.

There they were, in the middle of a high school library, debating which one of them should sacrifice themselves that night. And Jenny knew- she knew- that if the Watchers Council ever discovered Rupert had had such an argument that he would lose his job. But he didn’t back down.

“I’ve made up my mind,” he said, and Jenny knew he was telling the truth. His voice was strong, his jaw set as he met Buffy’s gaze.

Oh my god, Jenny thought, he’s going to do it. She was reminded of how Rupert had talked about Buffy, even before Jenny realised what their connection was. Fondness and pride, and a little bit of exasperation and annoyance, all spilling over as Rupert talked about Buffy’s latest mishap, or her inability to grasp Shakespeare, or how he’d offered to help with her history assignment but she’d been adamant she could do it alone. And Jenny knew that it would take a miracle to stop Rupert Giles from dying for his Slayer, even if the Council would forbid it.

“That’s not how it goes,” Buffy was arguing. “I’m the Slayer.”

“I don’t care what the books say,” Rupert shot back, and Jenny could see his carefully crafted composure crumbling under the pressure. “I defy prophecy, and I am going. There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

Buffy met his gaze. “I know.”

It turned out they didn’t need a miracle to stop Rupert, just a Slayer willing to knock him out. No, Rupert Giles wasn’t a typical Watcher, not when he was so willing to die in his Slayer’s place. And Jenny found that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with that new little bit of knowledge.

Rupert Giles could sometimes be a little clueless

Cleaning blood off of Rupert’s face wasn’t the way Jenny had expected her Fourth of July to end.

“I can’t believe he hit you, Rupert!”

Rupert shrugged. “Samson Murray was a violent man, even before being reanimated. I probably should have seen it coming. Lord knows I’ve had enough practice trying to avoid being hit by Buffy,” he said, before wincing.

Jenny gave him an incredulous look. “You know, that really doesn’t reassure me?”

“Doesn’t it?” Rupert asked, looking baffled. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m getting very good at dodging her punches too.”

“That doesn’t reassure me, either,” Jenny told him as she wiped off the last of the blood.

Rupert moved his jaw experimentally and gingerly ran his tongue over his teeth. “Nothing seems loose, so that’s good.”

“The uniform’s a loss, though.” Jenny gave a sad look at the Allied Forces Commander uniform he was still wearing.

“Yes,” Rupert said, sounding as sad as Jenny felt. “I won’t be getting my deposit back.”

The two of them descended into silence, sitting in the dark of the library together.

“You know,” Jenny said after a long moment, “when I invited you to the Fourth of July parade, I hadn’t expected it to be anything more than a nice afternoon out.”

“Well,” Rupert responded uncertainly, “it wasn’t that bad. Discounting the zombies, of course.” He gave her a slightly odd look then.

Jenny frowned at him. “What? Rupert, what’s that look for?”

“You... You kissed me,” he said, and there was a pleased little smile on his face. “Twice!”

Jenny arched an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the way her cheeks heated up. “And? Do you wish I hadn’t?”

“No! I- I mean...” Rupert trailed off as he flushed red, and Jenny laughed. “I just... Why, Jenny?

She moved to pack away the first aid items they hadn’t ended up needing, desperate for a reason to avoid his gaze. “Are we talking about the kiss on the cheek, or...?”

“Either,” Rupert said, voice quiet. “Both.”

She shrugged. “The kiss on the cheek was because I felt like it,” she admitted softly. “And the other kiss... Like I said, it was for good luck.”

“Well,” Rupert said, a hesitant smile on his face. “It worked splendidly.”

Jenny gave him a wry look. “Rupert, you got punched by a zombie.”

“I did,” he agreed, still wearing that silly little smile. “But he didn’t kill me. So your kiss must have worked.”

She shook her head, smiling as she did so, but then she sobered. “Rupert... Are you sure you’re ok with what happened tonight? Between us?”

“Are you?” he countered. “Because I, I don’t want to speak out of turn.”

“I kissed you, remember?” Jenny reminded him with a small frown. “I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t wanted to.”

“Oh,” Rupert said, frowning. “I suppose not.” He blinked up at her, still sat in the chair. “What does that mean, then?”

Jenny didn’t know what to say to that. For a very clever, well-read man, apparently he sometimes needed obvious things spelled out to him. She was starting to wonder how Buffy, Willow, and Xander coped.

“What do you think it means, Rupert?”

“I... I don’t know,” he admitted, and his voice sounded so incredibly small and lost that Jenny took pity on him.

She grasped his hands, tugged him to his feet, and smiled gently at him. “It means we should do this again sometime.”

“F- Fight zombies together?” Rupert asked with a furrowed brow.

Jenny very nearly laughed, and she was very pleased that she didn’t. “Yeah,” she said with a small nod. “Something like that.”

Then, she pressed another kiss to his cheek and sauntered out of the library.

Rupert Giles wasn’t perfect

“Rupert, can I ask you something?” Jenny asked during the tense car journey back to her place.

She felt Rupert’s confused gaze on her, but she didn’t look over.

“Of course,” came his confused reply.

“Why are you so harsh on the children, given what you did? The way you talk sometimes, when Buffy makes a poor decision, or Xander acts immaturely... You make them think that you’re perfect, that you’ve always been perfect.”

Rupert’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I have done no such thing.”

“But you have,” Jenny protested, glancing over at him. His jaw was clenched, and she knew that a car perhaps wasn’t the best place for the conversation, but she pressed on anyway. “Buffy’s probably never even stopped to think that you were ever anything other than a Watcher; Xander and Willow have only ever seen you as a librarian and a Watcher. Those kids look up to you, and you don’t let them see that you’re a person.”

“I never said I was perfect, Jenny,” Rupert said, and his voice was low and angry, and the words stung.

They stung because Jenny knew they were true. He had never claimed that he had been a perfect child, followed by a perfect teenager, followed by a perfect adult. Jenny had simply assumed. And she was angry about that, because there was a part of her that wanted him to be perfect. Perfect, loyal Rupert, who was just as readily available to help his Slayer with her history essay as with her demon research.

If Rupert wasn’t perfect, who was?

Jenny knew she wasn’t. And Jenny knew she was being as hypocritical as she was hinting at Rupert being. She didn’t know everything about his life, and he didn’t know everything about hers. Just as she had felt no real need to burden him with the truth of her family’s past, perhaps he had felt the same about his rebellious period twenty years ago?

“I... I understand that, perhaps, I can seem a little hard on the children,” Rupert said quietly, and his tone had softened a little but not by much. “But they have to learn. Buffy especially so. She’s the Slayer, and there is a certain amount of responsibility that comes with that.” He let out a breath. “I was young, and, and foolish, when the incident with Eyghon happened. I... I lost a friend, because I thought I was- because I thought we were untouchable. Buffy cannot afford to make the same mistakes I did.”

Jenny stared out the car window for several long moments. “It’s... It’s not just about the children, Rupert. We were all blindsided by this, including me.”

Rupert’s eyes were on her, but Jenny didn’t look round. He sighed quietly. “I never wanted you to find out about my past in this way.”

Houses raced by outside the window, and Jenny watched them. “Did you want me to find out about your past at all?”

She knew her tone was cold, colder than it perhaps should have been given that she knew Rupert was struggling. But Jenny hurt, both inside and out, and she was tired and miserable and achy. A tiny, nagging voice in the back of her head was reminding her of her own secrets, but she forced it down. She was too tired to deal with it.

“I... I suppose I never really knew how to put it into words,” Rupert told her, brow furrowed. “I think... I think I feared how you would react.”

His gaze was back on the road, and Jenny turned her head to look at him. His expression was sad, and a little bit resigned.

“I suppose I was right to be concerned.” He let out a breath. “I’ll drop you at your apartment.”

Rupert Giles wasn’t perfect. He had flaws, and secrets, and a whole other life he had once lived. But then again, so did Jenny.

Rupert Giles wore anger well

She didn’t know quite what she had expected to happen, once the truth came out. Buffy was angry with her, Willow was upset, Xander seemed uncertain about whether he should be despising her or thanking her for getting rid of Angel. And Rupert...

Rupert wore anger well, Jenny realised. It suited him, in a strange way. It made him look more like the Watcher she had expected him to be. All sharp edges and scowls, and clipped, scathing words delivered in a harsh and dismissive tone. But it still hurt when he dismissed her from helping with preparations.

“She just said get out.”

Rupert didn’t even look at Jenny when he spoke, but she saw how Buffy looked up to her Watcher. And the odd thing was, watching the pair of them from the doorway, Jenny couldn’t tell if she was being sent away for Buffy’s benefit or Rupert’s.

Rupert was, of course, angry at her. He was angry that she had kept secrets from him, even though at the time they had felt inconsequential. Unlike the rest of her family, Jenny Calendar had never been out for vengeance against Angel. As a result, she hadn’t seen the necessity of revealing her family secrets to Rupert, or to anyone else, but that didn’t stop them all from being angry at her.

But as Buffy looked up to her Watcher, apparently surprised at what Rupert had just said, Jenny found that she couldn’t help but draw the conclusion that Rupert was choosing his side. He was making it clear, to himself, to Jenny, and to Buffy; he was choosing his Slayer over his love.

And maybe that explained why he seemed so much more like a Watcher now that he was all hard edges and anger. Why the anger he wore fit him just as well as his tweed jacket, or his glasses. It all came back to his Slayer. The Slayer he had been so willing to die for just last year. The Slayer he fought hard for, who he broke the rules for time and time again. Rupert Giles, no matter how unconventional, was a Watcher who put his Slayer first. And perhaps that was where the source of his anger lay; not with Jenny keeping secrets from him, but with Jenny putting his Slayer in danger.

It didn’t matter that she had had no idea Angel could lose his soul, didn’t matter that she had only ever been on the fringes of her family’s vengeance plans. What mattered was that Jenny had put Buffy in danger by not coming clean about who she was or how much of a threat Angel posed, and there was a good chance that Rupert would never forgive her for it.

Jenny couldn’t blame him. She did as Rupert and Buffy asked, and didn’t go to face Angelus with them.

Jenny Calendar would do anything to fix things with Rupert and the children

A year and a half previously, Jenny Calendar wouldn’t have cared what most people thought of her. But that seemed like a lifetime ago, and she was starting to realise that she wouldn’t have cared because she didn’t have anybody she cared about. That was, until Rupert and the children.

Rupert and the children had wormed their way into her heart, so slowly that she hadn’t even realised it until it had been too late. It hadn’t been until the business with Angel had happened, and Buffy and Rupert had turned against her. And that was how Jenny Calendar learned a very important lesson about herself; she would do anything to fix things between herself and Rupert and the children.

So she set to work researching, scrounging up every last piece of information she could get her hands on. If there was any way at all to restore Angel’s soul, she’d find it. She knew she couldn’t buy Rupert’s or Buffy’s forgiveness, but she also knew that this was perhaps the only way to make it clear to them that she was really, truly sorry.

Sure, she could apologise until she was blue in the face. But she knew that actions often spoke louder than words, and this was one of those circumstances. Apologising meant nothing if she didn’t even try to give Buffy back what she’d lost. And while patching things up with Rupert would be trickier, she needed to prove to him that she didn’t see Buffy as collateral damage.

She spent entire nights researching, on her computer and with books. She didn’t dare approach Rupert or Buffy though, not until she knew for certain that she had leads. The last thing she wanted to do was get their hopes up only to let them down again.

But finally, after god knew how many hours researching, she had a breakthrough. Jenny felt her heart soar as she realised the implications. But still, when she saw Rupert at school that day, she said nothing. She gave him a book, implied she’d been reading up on a few things, and then totally and utterly embarrassed herself by admitting she’d fallen in love with him.

“Oh god. Is it too late to take that back?”

Rupert blinked at her. “Do you want to?”

Jenny considered his question for a moment. “I just wanna be right with you. I don’t expect more. I just want so badly to make all this up to you.”

“I understand,” Rupert responded, and his voice was soft and almost reassuring. “But I’m not the one you need to make it up to.” He gave her a small smile then, that made her heart skip a beat, and he held up the book. “Thank you for the book.”

Jenny hadn’t been able to quite stop thinking about Rupert’s words for the rest of the day. He hadn’t run a mile when she’d confessed to loving him. He hadn’t stuttered or stammered or blushed. He’d been gentle but firm; Buffy came first. He wouldn’t be making any sort of move, either to or away from Jenny, without Buffy’s say so.

She had known, really, that it would probably all come down to Buffy. And, if anything, Jenny found it touching that Rupert was so concerned about his Slayer. So, buoyed by the new hope the conversation with Rupert had sparked, she headed to the magic shop that evening for the final supplies she needed.

The Orb of Thesulah. She still had to pin her hopes on her computer program working out to translate the ritual, but frankly she was more concerned with actually getting hold of the Orb. The last thing Jenny wanted was to have everything ready to go only to find she couldn’t get the Orb anywhere.

“By the way...”

The shopkeeper’s words made Jenny look back.

“Not that it's any of my business, really, but, uh, what are you planning on conjuring up? If you can decipher the text?”

“A present for a friend of mine.” Jenny held up the Orb, examined it.

The shopkeeper frowned. “Really? What are you gonna give him?”

The Orb in Jenny’s hand glowed, and she smiled. “His soul.”

#buffy fanfic #jenny calendar day #angst #rupert giles #jenny calendar #otp: scooby parents

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