#sweet elite chapter 8
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Series Masterlist
Chapter 5:
Coriolanus is at the PK Base in the communications center, sitting in one of the video phone booths. He's holding the receiver to his ear and watching the staticy small screen; waiting for Tigris to answer. He has so much to tell her. In fact, he's over the moon to tell her all about the love of his life: you. He's absolutely positive that she'll be happy for him.
When the static breaks and then clears slightly to show his cousin, he smiles like a madman. “Tigris, it's so good to see you!” Coriolanus exclaims, so much excitement in his baritone.
Tigris' gentle blue eyes widened slightly at her cousin's chipper demeanor. He was usually sullen during their sporatic calls. “Oh, Coryo, you look so much happier since the last time we talked. Did something happen?” The blonde girl asked, curious to know why her cousin was suddenly in a better mood.
“Yes.” Coryo nodded. Beaming, he blurted out, “I got a girl, Y/N, and she's just a perfect sweet darling.” His baby blues were sparkling with pride as he added in, “We’re serious, have our own place and when I pass the Elite Officer's Examine we’ll be able to leave 8.”
“Oh…” Tigris trailed off, her face full of shock. She wasn't expecting her cousin to be so serious with somebody so soon. Especially after he seemed so heartbroken about never being able to see Lucy Gray ever again.
Was Tigris wrong in her assumption that Coryo loved the songbird? If so, then she truly hopes that he's found love with you. But she also knows that her cousin has the genetics that can easily make him become like his father: General Crassus Snow.
Hearing him say that he's taking an Elite Officer's Exam makes her skin crawl. Tigris knows how cold the officers are in the various branches of Panem's military; she doesn't want her sweet cousin to be turned into a cold, heartless, hateful man to be used as a tool for the country.
A country that kills tweens and teens for entertainment disguised as punishment. Gosh, everything about Panem makes Tigris sick. And to think that her cousin, her sweet little Coryo who's a good person, could be used in a way to support the country's propaganda and skewed outlook bothers her. Makes her blood freeze up in her veins.
“Isn’t it great news, Tigris?” The platinum blonde peacekeeper asked, fishing for praises.
“Yes, yes it is, Coryo.” Tigris replied, her smile a bit too tight, too forced, and her voice a bit flat.
Coryo's face fell at his cousin's overly fake reply. “I thought you'd be happy for me Tigris.”
“I am happy for you, Coryo. I am.” Tigris weakly assured her cousin.
“I've found somebody that makes me happy, who needs me; makes me feel powerful, and I'm one step closer to getting us back home, to the Capitol. But, you don't sound as happy about it as you claim to be.”
“Coryo…” Tigris sighed, trying to find the right words to tell him about the hardships that have fallen upon their family within the last few weeks.
“Is Grandma’am around?” Asked the platinum peacekeeper. “I'm sure that she'd be happy to hear about my accomplishments.”
“Coryo, Grandma'am’s in hospice.” Tigris revealed, her tone sad as her face twitched with sorrow.
“Hospice! What do you mean she's in hospice? She was fine a month ago, what the hell did you do to her, Tigris?!”
“Me? Oh, Coriolanus, do you hear yourself right now?” The blonde aspiring fashionista snipped. Shaking her head, Tigris started to explain, “Grandma’am just shut down and started to wither away after we lost the penthouse-”
Coriolanus icy eyes popped out of his head. “Y-you lost the penthouse?! When were you going to tell me this, Tigris? Huh?”
“The back taxes were just too much to pay, so the penthouse was put on the market. But, Pluribus is letting me stay in the apartment above his club.”
“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with Grandma'am being admitted to hospice care?”
“Coryo, having to declare bankruptcy and sell the penthouse; letting all of the Capitol know that the Snow's are poor just broke her dear old heart.”
“She's dying from a broken heart? Really?” Coriolanus asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” Tigris nods. “The doctor said that Grandma’am lost the will to live; that it'll only be a short matter of time before she goes. And she's already in a catatonic state.”
“Are you still working for Fabricia Whatnot?” Coryo asked, his baritone colder than it had been mere minutes ago.
“Yes, I'm still working for her.” His cousin confirms with a nod.
“Good, because I won't be sending half of my pay to you anymore. The Grandma’am will be dead soon, due to her own pride and self induced delusions, and my money, honestly, is better suited taking care of my girl here in 8.” Coriolanus told Tigris in a chilly tone. One so chilly that it'd cause hell to freeze over.
“Coryo-” Tigris began, confusion all over her makeup slathered face, only to be cut off by Coriolanus’ icily steady voice saying, “I'm all my girl’s got, Tigris. I have to take care of her.” Looking at his cousin like he didn't even know her anymore, he remarked, “Unlike you, Y/N doesn't lie to me about how bad things are. At least she's honest, but you've had to have known for months about the past due back taxes on the penthouse and you never said a damn word to me about it.”
“Coryo…I didn't want you to worry about us. I was taking care of everything.”
“Time’s about up, Tigris.” The platinum peacekeeper announced, feeling betrayed and lied to by his cousin, who he viewed as more of a sister then a cousin.
“Coriolanus, you sound just like your father right now.” Tigris pointed out, her heart breaking at hearing the frostiness in his baritone and seeing cold deadness in his eyes.
“Well, I am his son. Perhaps I'll follow in his footsteps; rise to military greatness.” Private Snow told his cousin before saying a curt goodbye and hanging up on her.
It's getting close to the time that Coryo usually comes home from work and you're in the small kitchenette making dinner. It's nothing too fancy, just a simple stew. But your platinum peacekeeper never complained about what you made. He always ate his supper with a smile plastered on his face. In fact, he'd usually get seconds; pester you into eating another share too (he always said it was in order to build up your strength so you'll heal faster).
You're stirring the pot, making sure that nothing sticks to the bottom, whenever a faint knock appears at your door. You almost don't hear it over the sound of the radio, that's how light the knock is. Not wanting the stew you worked so hard on this afternoon to burn, you turn off the stove before going to answer the door.
“Ashlie, what're you doing here?” You asked your brother’s former girlfriend as she stood in front of you.
“Some of the girls at the factory are worried about you; I said I'd stop by and check up on you after my shift.” Ashlie answered as you heard the sound of Coryo's boots clambering up the building’s staircase.
Nodding, you simply said, “I'm fine.”
“Are you, Y/N?” Ashlie pressed.
Nice of her to worry about you now, but where was she before?
“There's been rumors that you've taken up with that blonde peacekeeper. That he's been living with you.” Ashlie all but hissed in a shameful tone.
“It's not a rumor.” You told her while noticing Coryo's tall denim clad frame appear at the top of the stairs, right down the hall.
“Look, Y/N, I'm sorry about not being around as often as I should, but if you need help gettin’ away from that peacekeeper I'm sure that Declan can help smuggle you out of the district.”
Smuggle you out where? You don't have any money and you're all alone. How are you going to survive hiding out in another district? Districts you're sure are just as bad if not worse than 8. The poor, lower end districts are all clumped together and, frankly, they seem to get worse and worse as you start going between them.
At least with Coryo your rent's paid, you've got enough food to eat, and you're not cold anymore. He’s decent company, when he's not in a condescending mood, and he seems to be devoted to you despite not knowing you that long. With Coryo you're comfortable for the first time in a long time. For once since moving to 8 you're not tempted to do a swan dive off the bridge into the toxic river surrounding the district.
You'll take your chances with your peacekeeper.
Shaking your head, as Coriolanus trudged down the hall, you told Ashlie, “I'm fine here with Coryo. He takes good care of me, so you don't need to worry.”
“And what happens when he gets bored of you; tosses you aside for another girl?” Ashlie asked as your boyfriend got closer. “Y/N, sweetheart, don't be a fool and trust him. He's a Peacekeeper for Christ’s sakes.” Berates your once sister. “One bred straight from the Capitol as I understand too.” The brunette spat out in disgust, right as your platinum peacekeeper appeared behind the girl that's slandering him.
“Darling, is this ratty whore bothering you?” Coryo coldly asked, his icy eyes narrowed at the girl blocking his way into the apartment, as he came to a stop right by the door.
His frosty timbre startles Ashlie; has her jumping out of her skin. Coryo's tone of voice doesn't bother you one bit. Why should it? His coldness isn't aimed at you.
“She was just leaving.” You assure your boyfriend, only to give Ashlie a look that reads ‘you need to go, now'.
“Well the girls at the factory are worried about you; hopefully you'll be able to return to work soon.” Ashlie remarked instead of leaving, like she should’ve done.
“She won't be returning to work at the factory.” Coryo bluntly announced, pushing himself by Ashlie and literally shoving you inside of the apartment. He blocked your view with his tall, sinewy frame while standing right in the doorway.
The platinum blonde's head lifted up in superiority. His glacier blue eyes bore into the former Seam girl with disdain as he explained, “As Y/N’s man, I take care of her and pride myself in treating her the way a proper Capitol born man treats his girl.” Gripping the door so hard that the wood began to splinter and crack, he barked out, “You're not needed around here. She's got me, so leave or else I'll bring you to base and turn you in as a rebel.”
Ashlie's Seam grey eyes widened in fear and horror at hearing Coriolanus’ words. With the rumors that she's heard about you being kept under lock and key by the platinum blonde peacekeeper, who by now everyone knew was sent from the Capitol; was a second generation military man, Ashlie was starting to worry about you. And when the girls that worked with you on the looms in the PK uniform factory’s weaving room started to express their worries to Ashlie, well she decided to pay you a visit.
Offer you some much needed support. A lifeline out of the predicament you're in.
But the brunette wasn't expecting you to turn down her help, to insist on staying with your oppressor. She also didn't think she'd be threatened by said oppressor, the pretty boy peacekeeper from hell itself. Ashlie feared for both her own safety and yours.
Maybe she should've came around more often, then maybe you wouldn't have become such easy prey for a peacekeeper with a cold hateful glint in his eyes.
“And the next time you show up to my house I'll have you hanged off the bridge’s trestle.” Coriolanus darkly promised, his face a mask showing no feelings, before slamming the door shut in Ashlie's face.
Coryo was quiet as he shed his coat, hanging it up on the hook near the door. “I made stew. I'll go dip it up.” You told him while he began to unlace his boots.
“It smells good, darling.” Coriolanus complimented, slipping out of his black boots, as you grabbed some bowls from the cabinet.
“You say that about everything I make.” You teased, portioning out the stew into a pair of bowls as Coryo pulled off his denim fatigue shirt.
Walking over to the table and laying his denim overshirt on the back of his chair, the platinum blonde simply said, “Because it's true.”
The atmosphere in the room wasn't heavy per say, but it wasn't light either. You felt like something happened today, something to put him in a sort of mood. And not a good one either. You really didn't want to stoke his mood into a roaring fire of unliveable sassy attitude, so you didn't say a teasing word back to him.
No, you just carried the bowls of stew over to the small table as Coryo took his seat at it. You couldn't help, but slip on a smile at the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dwarfing the sorry excuse for a kitchen table you had. Hell, the table looked more like a small school desk as he sat at it.
Silently, Coryo followed your every move with his icy eyes. He watched as you set the food on the table before fetching the bottle of milk from the fridge. Coryo knows how luxurious fresh milk is, so he's proud that he can buy it for you. He himself went without it for so many years in the Capitol.
The Snow family always seemed to go without; to struggle within the safe borders of the Capitol. Something that he was supposed to change. Coriolanus was supposed to dig his family out of poverty, but instead his family's been torn apart.
All because Tigris lied to him about how bad things really were.
Fuck!
He would've found a way to get her the money for the back taxes, to avoid a foreclosure on the Snow ancestral home, if she would've only told him that she couldn't pay.
How could Tigris, his own cousin, do that to Grandma’am; to him? And most of all to you.
You!
Who he promised to whisk away to the Capitol once he was able to. Now where are the both of you going to go when he gets clearance as an Elite Officer to return home: to the Capitol? He sure as hell can't bring you to the above club shoebox apartment Pluribus gave Tigris.
And to think that his Grandma’am's dying from a broken heart because her home was taken from her. Her beloved rooftop rose garden that was her joy is now withered if not destroyed by the highest bidder. To think that the old lady's in hospice, due to no will to live, all because Tigris couldn't be honest about the back taxes.
Damnit, fucking bitch should've worked a few corners to come up with the money. Anything to pay the past due taxes; keep the Snow family penthouse in the Snow family.
Where it belongs.
The sound of the milk glasses lightly clinking against the warped wooden table tore Coriolanus out of his thoughts. Watching you sit down next to him, he grabbed his spoon and told you, “Darling, let's promise not to lie to each other. Shall we?”
Oh boy, something definitely happened to him today. You didn't know what, but his remark about lying to each other tipped you off that he was lied to and he's upset about it.
Picking up your own spoon, you tell him, “I promise I won't lie to you, Coryo.”
“And I won't lie to you, Y/N. Which is why I have to tell you something very unsettling.”
Something very unsettling? What the hell did he do, shoot somebody during target practice? Murder somebody for a spot on the Elite Officer's Examine roster? Hell, the suspense is killing you.
Not literally, just figuratively.
“Today I talked to my cousin, Tigris, on the phone in the base’s communications center and I learned that things are worse than I thought they were back home: in the Capitol.” He revealed in between eating his stew.
Having a bad feeling, you asked, “What's wrong, Coryo?”
“The Snow penthouse has been seized and put into foreclosure for unpaid back taxes.” Coryo spat out, his eyes full of anger, as he held his spoon so hard that it was about to bend between his fingers.
His family home foreclosed due to back taxes. Oh boy… You weren't expecting to hear that. You can only imagine how high priced the taxes are in the Capitol considering how pricey things are in the districts. Capitol City, Panem is full of rich elites or wannabe rich elites, so…Yea…The price tag on things in the Gem of Panem, the Capitol, is surely higher than in the rest of the country.
“Tigris told me that everything was fine, but she lied.” Shaking his head, he tossed his spoon in his bowl, causing a loud clang to ring out. “I've been sending home money, assuming that Tigris was using it wisely, but now I don't even know what she did with it.” Reaching for his milk glass, he dryly added, “She didn't pay the taxes, that much I know.”
Reaching forward and placing your hand on top of his, you gave him an empathetic look. You felt for him, for his family. “Coryo, I'm sorry she lied; made you think everything’s ok when it isn't.”
Your boyfriend threads your fingers together, holding your hand, as he sips on his milk. He can't help, but feel lucky to have you. You're being so supportive and understanding about his family's fall from grace.
About him losing the Snow ancestral home. The home that he was supposed to take you to.
Placing his glass down after drinking from it, Coryo shook his head while gritting out, “And now Grandma’am's in hospice, dying of a broken heart, because she was forced out of her home.”
Poor Coryo…
To lose his home, his grandma, and to be lied to by his cousin.
“Seems like we've got more in common than what meets the eye.” You told him, letting him know that you sympathized with his situation.
“It seems we do, darling.” Coryo nodded. Picking his spoon up and scooping a portion of stew out of his bowl, he repeated, “It seems we do.”
You're washing the dishes whenever you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. Coryo's right behind you, hanging on you, but you don't pay him any mind. You just keep on washing the bowl in your hand with the sponge- a sponge that has seen better days.
Your boyfriend nuzzles his nose into your temple, inhaling your scent. Kissing your cheek, he swears, “I promise, once I'm an officer and get into a wealthy position I'll buy back our home. We'll live in it once again.”
“Don't make promises that you can't keep, Coryo.” You advised him, rinsing out the bowl and setting it aside on the makeshift drying rack (which was a cookie cooling rack resting on a dishtowel).
“I intend to keep that promise, baby.” He told you in between peppering kisses up and down your neck.
“Coryo, stop that. I still have dishes to do.” You sighed, trying and failing to wiggle out of his hold while starting on the second dirty bowl.
“One day when I become President and make you my First Lady you won't ever have to lift a finger to wash a dish ever again.” Coryo smoothly murmured, kissing the sweet spot right below your ear.
“To make me your First Lady you'll have to marry me, Mister President.” You sarcastically pointed out, rinsing soap suds and bubbles out of the bowl.
You're placing the bowl onto the drying rack whenever Coryo spins you around. Tipping your chin up, making your eyes lock onto his baby blues, he seriously tells you, “Once I get my officer’s stripes I'm going to marry you.”
The weight of his words comes crashing down on your head like an anvil in an old cartoon. “You really want to marry me?” You asked, not quite believing the situation to be real.
You're just some district girl that he got into trouble and felt pity for. Yes, he takes care of you, but making you his wife's a whole other story. That's a lifetime commitment considering divorce was abolished in the early years of Panem's creation- which was after the end of both WW3 and the 2nd Civil War, which coincided.
“Yes, baby.” The platinum blonde nodded. A wide smile spread across his face as he cemented his fate with the words of, “I'm going to marry you and give you the life that we both deserve as Snows once I get my officer's commission.”
“You know, people in the districts have different ceremonies then Capitolites do for marriages.” You informed him; knowing that you're going down a path you can't turn off of as you do. “Couples in 12 do a toasting by breaking bread at the hearth over a fire they stoke.”
“Too bad we don't have a fireplace.” Coriolanus seriously pouted.
Oh wow, he's serious about this marriage thing. Lucky you.
“Yes, too bad.” You half heartedly agreed with him. Resting your hands on his chest, you decided to explain what you learned about weddings in District 8. “I've heard that here in 8 most weddings are typically held on Tuesdays and Thursdays in November and December.”
Your boyfriend’s brow rose with interest. “December you say?”
“Yes.” You confirm as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “The bride sews her own dress, which is typically blue or purple, and makes a large amount of food for the guests who stay for dinner and then a late supper. While family and friends are gathered at the house, the couple’s joined hands are bound by a strip of cloth; then they recite words or poetry to complete the ritual.”
“And this ritual’s binding in the eyes of District 8?” Coriolanus asked, holding your gaze with his icy eyes. Eyes that were filled with both trepidation and hope.
“It's binding in all of the districts. I'm not sure about the Capitol tho.”
Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he simply said, “Mary me on Thursday. I'll bring Sejanus home with me and we'll do the 8 ceremony.”
Believing it impossible to marry so soon, you react with, “But that's in 2 days, Coryo. I'll barely have enough time to make a dress. Plus I have to cook food.”
Bringing his other hand up to your face, so he was cradling it between his large calloused hands, the platinum blonde told you, “I'll bring home some material for your dress tomorrow and the only guest you need to cook for is Sejanus. You don't need to cook up our entire pantry.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Let me take care of you; marry me, baby.”
If you say yes to this sudden spur of the moment wedding you'll be giving up your freedom. In the districts’ eyes you'll become Mrs. Snow, wife of a Peacekeeper. One who's certain he'll become an Elite Officer. Is that what you want?
Hell…
You honestly don't even know what you want. But you do know that you refuse to go cold and hungry ever again because you're alone and can barely get by.
So, for survival purposes, you give Coryo a smile and tell him, “I’ll marry you.”
Without warning, Coryo kisses you. His lips hungrily pressed against yours, as if he was a man starved and his only fulfillment came from your mouth. You moved your lips against his, which only caused him to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your fingers twisted and dug into his white T-shirt as your tongues intimately danced while your lips clashed, pushing and pulling for purchase.
You let out a little breathless sigh as Coryo broke the kiss, pulling back slightly so the two of you could catch your breath.
Coryo's icy blue eyes were nearly black with lust as he looked into the windows of your soul. His large hands still cup your face as he confessed, “I’d love nothing more than to bring you to our bed and fuck you right now, but since we're to be married in 2 days I'll wait til the wedding night.”
“Oh, so you're going to make an honest woman out of me first before you corrupt me?” You asked, your tone a bit light and teasing.
What difference was a couple of days? It wasn't like you're from a rich aristocratic family that needs to see the sheets in the morning for proof of innocence lost and consummation.of marriage. You're a district girl, nobody in the districts care about purity til marriage, etc.
Besides, even before you agreed to marry him you knew you'd be fucking Coriolanus. He's your boyfriend, it comes with the territory. The only question was when.
Now you have your answer: this Thursday night- your district style wedding night.
Leaning his forehead against yours, Coryo steadfastly declared, “You can't corrupt someone who's willing to drink from the silver cup, my darling.”
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chapter 6 thoughts: (spoilers ahead!)
oh. fuck.
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he was king. now he’s a martyr.
holy shittttt
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aftg really brings us all together, this is random but i love talking to other fan accounts about the books
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anyway fanfics will no longer have to speculate when rikos funeral was, and if kevin attended or not (or if he had a mental breakdown about it)
also neil u have no tact babe and i love u for it
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oh renee ur so lovely ur so insightful (neil u should listen to what she has to say)
jean and his ‘i won’t grieve him’ ❤️🫶
- ‘promise me’ jean said with a desperation that should have kill him, nathaniel didn’t hesitate, ‘i promise’ SHUT THE FUCK UP I LOVE THEM THANK U NORA THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED FROM THIS BOOK
THE SWAP FROM NATHANIEL TO NEIL IS JUST AS POWERFUL FROM JEANS PERSOECTIVE IN TSC AS IT WAS IN FROM NEILS IN TKM I LITERALLY CANNOT THE PARALLELS ARE KILLING ME
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it’s 1:40 am and i’ve just made a cup of tea to keep myself awake
feeling many things about jeans perusal of the fox photo wall and taking renee’s picture
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i know these motherfuckers aren’t accusing neil kevin and jean of abandoning that cunt and leading to his ‘suicide’
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WE ARE THE RIGHT PEOPLE I THINK JUST NOT THE RIGHT TIME (look i am admittedly not a jean/renee shipper but good god they are so sweet in this)
A COOL EVENING BREEZE AND RAINBOWS
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screaming as silently as i can rn
- petition for someone to put summertime sadness on the jean playlist
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whattttt is the mystery about jeremy’s family?? what is this fabled fall banquet that tore his family in half im so intrigued i have to know more
ALSO JEREMY IS IN THERAPY AND HAS SOME SORT OF FAMILY ISSUES I KNEW IT IM SURE THATS ON A BINGO SOMEWHERE
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jeremy dad of the trojans checking to see that they’re safe and also cody first cannon non binary character??? pls say yes
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accidentally fell asleep in the middle of my planned all nighters whoops it’s currently 7 am
chapter 7:
“I like to indulge,” Jeremy said with a dimpled smile. Kevin’s words mocked him in the back of his thoughts: “Some of them you like.”
i did. notice this in chapter 2 or whatever but is this?? are we getting jerejean???? that’s what this means righ??
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jeremy wdym ‘oh to be the pampered elite’ u have a butler??
jean defending kevin saying he’s earned the right to be arrogant be still my beating heart i love these stubborn mother fuckers
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He was years away, watching a different beautiful boy lean in close to say, Will you teach me when he’s not watching? It could be our secret.
STOP IT RN
chapter 8!!
flicked him a sly look. “Easy on the eyes, maybe.”
AHHHHH!!!
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also so glad that there’s 100% confirmation cat and laila are dating (shared bedroom!)
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the description of laila and cats lounge room is so soft and cozy im so jealous i wish i was there
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barkbark von barkenstein u will never top sir fat cat mcatterson (although props to nora for always having simultaneously the worst and most creative names for pets)
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jean telling cat she’s a good player but misses every ball at her hips is literally every raven! (someone) fic ever come to life where they meet a relatively normal other team and have absolutely no tact or awareness of what others considered rude and immediately tell the other players what their weaknesses are (i’m obsessed)
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“Yes,” he said, and if he didn’t sound sure, he at least sounded angry. “Let them all burn. I hope none of them survive.” BABY I LOVE U IM SO PROUD OF U UR SAFE NOW FUCK RIKO FUCK THE RAVENS FUCK THE MASTER
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“Oh, he’s good. A bit rude, but I like him. I think we’re going to be good friends.”
i’d say the exact same thing
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*jeremy giving jean the keys*
well it’s not andreil levels of drama and symbolism but love a good comparison
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or they do not care enough about her wellbeing. It’s unforgivable either way.”
giggling a bit over jean being up in arms about boba knowing that he’d be seriously unimpressed with me if he knew how much boba i drank
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he wants to know what it was for
AND WHAT IF THAT LINE BROKE ME NORA?? AND WHAT THEN??
The Ravens had given up everything to be the undefeated champions, only to be destroyed last month by a tiny team from South Carolina.
I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE
“Loving something is not enough,” Jean told him, right on cue. “When is the last time you enjoyed playing?” Jeremy asked. “Irrelevant,” Jean said. “I am Jean Moreau; I am perfect Court. I do not need to enjoy it to be the best backliner in the NCAA.”
that was what Jean felt safest in, Jeremy would back his decision wholeheartedly.
LITERALLY LEAVE ME ALONE
chapter 9999
also i’m so glad that we have jeremy/laila/cat friendship like in fics and stuff they were always best buddies coz they were the only trojan characters named in the books but it’s great to see they’re actually good friends in cannon
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“I need you to listen to me for one moment,” Laila said, “and I need you to believe me when I say it. Fuck Coach Moriyama.”
AGREED AGREED AGREED FUCK THAT CUNT
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COOKING LESSONS WITH JEAN THIS IS THE WHOLESOME CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR
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cat talking macronutrients and promising to help with his diet so it’s still familiar but more fun in order to begin healing jeans relationship with food is so important to me
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nora bleaching jeremy’s hair blonde after telling us she was shocked we all headcannoned him as blonde while she thought he was brunette is so funny to me,, don’t worry fan artists u do not have to change a thing!
(frosted tips made me giggle too, jeremy u pussy)
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“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”
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chapter 10
jean learning basic household chores like sorting and washing clothes and deep cleaning the apartment and learning his way around a supermarket <3
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LAILA CAT JEAN FRIENDSHIP IS REAL
Afternoons were filled with whatever the women were in the mood for that day, be it wandering downtown, shopping, or combing through estate sales.
Jean went where they took him because it was better than being left in the house alone,
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COOKING IS HEALING JEAN ITS A COMFORT THING SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS EVERYTHUNG HES SO REAL FOR THAT
-
Ravens graduated; they didn’t leave.
fuck if that didn’t just stop my heart
-
i definitely should have been more wary of the trigger warnings. if anyone is wanting to read the book but is worried about certain parts, i’d be happy to let y’all know what sections are triggering so u can try and skip around them.
-
But Jean was not a Raven, and Wayne was dead.
FUCK YEAH BABY NOT ANYMORE U ARENT
-
the thought of that quiet space with its single bed was so repulsive he turned toward the living room instead. - this is so important to me
He could sense the others’ presence even if they weren’t around to bother him, and that was enough to take the edge off the loneliness eating at his heart.
literally end my life i’m so happy for jean, he’s healing slowly but surely
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this was better than anything he’d ever had. It was worlds more than he deserved. He feared it as much as he wanted it;
JEAN U DO DESERVE IT I PROMISE U
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wait wtf,, zane is reacher??? in literally every raven fic ever reacher is the most abusive character other than riko
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OMFG BEACH SCENE??? THEYRE GONNA TAKE JEAN TO THE BEACH??? CHECK THAT OFF EVERY SINGLE BINGO CARD MADE FOR THIS BOOK
^ yeah i wrote that two seconds before then reading jeans panic attack about drowning and the trigger of riko waterboarding him and neil and now i want to cry
#aftg#all for the game#the foxhole court#tsc#the sunshine court#jean moreau#jeremy knox#laila dermott#catalina alvarez#nora sakavic#usc trojans#renee walker#neil josten#andrew minyard#kevin day#david wymack#nathaniel wesninski
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/44321668
I conquered writers block!!! It might not be a big achievement but it makes me so happy to publish the last chapter for this story. (There might be a sequel)
Chapters: 8/8
Fandom: Avatar (Cameron Movies)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Miles Quaritch & Original Female Character(s), Colonel Miles Quaritch/Original Female Character
Characters: Miles Quaritch, Human Miles Quaritch, Original Female Character
Additional Tags: Miles Quaritch - Freeform, Miles Quaritch in love, Falling In Love, Colonel Quaritch being shy, I am a simp and I know it, Age Difference, age gap, Older Man/Younger Woman, Love at First Sight, Love Confessions
Summary:
Colonel Miles Quaritch is hard, ruthless and he makes sure everyone knows who is in charge at Hell's Gate. Dr Mia Thompson is silent, sweet and she hates to be noticed. Two perfectly opposite individuals. She gives life to Avatar while he loves to Kill Na'vi yet Miles couldn't help but feel drawn to this innocent girl. Will these two stubborn elites of their own field ever let down their walls to accept what fate had sent their way?
#fanfiction#original character#love#avatar#miles quaritch#stephen lang#avatar quaritch#avatar the way of water#avatar2#recom quaritch
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🌸Translation Masterlist🌸
Event Story
Blessed Memories
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
SSR Family
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Moon Traveler
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Ah, My Dearly Beloved
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
NEW ERA GARDEN (Act 3.5)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Backstage Story
Spring Troupe
Chikage SR Card “Promise of Blooming” [Let’s Play! Real Life Gacha: Chikage’s Turn]
Tsuzuru R Card “Oriental Note” [Who sent the chocolate?]
Chikage SSR Card “Tailor-Made” [Suit of Your Choice]
Citron N Card “Harugaoka Quartet” [Role-building: Saionji Ennis]
Chikage R Card “Emerald Palette” [Spice is the best]
Citron SSR Card [ Prince Jasmine Across The Sea ]
Chikage SSR Card “MANKAI Glitter” [To ARIES: Chikage]
Chikage SR Card “Necessary Sacrifice” [BBQ Essentials]
Masumi Usui SR Card “SUNNY SPRING” [Harugumi Fanservice Study Group ~Masumi Edition~]
Chikage SSR Card “His Welcoming Territory” [ A Boy’s Dream ]
Tsuzuru SSR Card “Everyone From the Minagi Family” [ Midnight cramming ]
Chikage R Card “Last Planet” [ Let’s do good deeds ]
Chikage SR Card “SUNNY SPRING” [Harugumi Fanservice Study Group ~Chikage Edition~]
Chikage SR Card “Invitation On Board” [Ship Model Full of Arrangements]
Chikage SR Card “Brilliance of Blooming” [ MANKAI Livestream! ~ LIVE: Chikage ~ ]
Chikage SR Card “A Capable Man’s Morning Routine” [ An Elite’s Morning ]
Chikage SSR Card “Graceful Paani” [ Sweet and Spicy ]
Chikage SR Card “You Can You Know” [ Secret Notepad ]
Chikage Utsuki SSR Card “Dear My Moon” [ Twinkle Sign ]
Chikage Utsuki SSR Card “Wizard of Death” [ The Western, Northern Wizards and the Ruler of Darkness ]
Summer Troupe
Autumn Troupe
Winter Troupe
Tasuku SSR Card “Fire Kingdom” [What I see now]
Other Characters
Haruto R Card “Twin Kingdoms” [Part-time job together! ~Haruto Version~]
Shift SR Card “Wanting To Be Relied Upon” [Special homemade udon noodles]
Haruto SSR Card “Ice Kingdom” [The Story of Haruto Asuka]
Rento R Card “Cheerful Mr. Sounds Man” [Melon Bread from God]
Mini Talk
Spring Troupe
SSR Family Mini Talk Translation || Chikage Utsuki
Summer Troupe
Autumn Troupe
Winter Troupe
5th Anniversary Mini Talk “Under The Same Starry Sky” Tsumugi & Rento
Other Characters
Haruto Mini Talk [Twin Kingdoms]
Song Lyric translation
Spring Troupe
Chikage’s Second Solo “SEEDS” [ FULL VER. ]
Tsuzuru’s Second Solo “The Storyteller” [ FULL VER. (REUPLOAD) ]
Family Activation [ FULL VER. ]
Summer Troupe
Autumn Troupe
Azami’s Second Solo “Teenager” [ FULL VER. ]
Juza’s Second Solo “MIRAILIGHT” [ FULL VER. ]
Winter Troupe
Other Characters
Haruto’s solo “Nitou Joutou” [FULL VER.]
Web Comic /Manga Translation
Chapter 173 “Croquette feat. Curry”
Chapter 184: ”Be Yourself…”
Chapter 189: “Fearless Eyes”
Chapter 195: “Unrelenting”
Chapter 198: “Teach Us”
Chapter 232: “State Secrets”
A3! Comic Anthology Vol. 2 Translation: Love For The Director
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-The Initiated-
Artwork by TwinSoulVisionary
A Destiny Stolen / is on AO3, see link below...
https://archiveofourown.org/works/43352232/chapters/108977013
Story Excerpt:
A truly resplendent elite class establishment with sweet smelling, Nejarian smokeleaf tubers filling the air with a familiar ambience, which brought back a memory of his father who smoked leaf tubers when he was a child. A smell that brought forth his fond childhood past back on Ayre’an to the forefront of his mind. Kallus, a selfish man with selfish interests buried the memory away, from where it came, deep in his own heart. He was about to become an elite Imperial soon and would waste no more time with emotion he had been trained to subdue. Hyper-focusing on his wanton prize, he continued down the hall.
The hall opened up into a game room with lofty ceilings dug out of stone. The low light of candles accompanied music, slow and sultry as it wafted from a corner, where a five instrument band played a sexually rhythmic tune.
There stood before him, flanked by two heavily armed Aye’an sentinels, a sight of magnificence! His tall 1/8 Sythir giant, his dark hair and facial hair styled and cut short suiting his angular yet soft facial features as his green eyes glistened in the candlelight. He stood just a head higher than Kallus, overtly transfixed on the giant’s toned and oiled arm muscles, leading into broad shoulders and stone solid chest. A styled panel of gold threaded cloth was all that he wore around a slim waist. His attributes were substantial! Kallus could see his ample phallus through the diaphanous folds of fabric. His own loins complied with the vision before him. Growing hot with need he pushed himself to the front of the crowd. The bidding had already begun.
A servant with a stun collar around his neck, made of polished gold and electrum, had a tray with a number of slender crystal glasses filled with pale pink Ayre’an Sovarjnberry champaign, only the best in all of Terra. He nonchalantly stole two for himself off a platter as the servant passed him, downing it in one gulp.
Kallus took off his Imperial academy cap and tousled his hair free from its pulled back style. This made him look rakish. Many female eyes turned his way to take notice, as did the Gladiator. Their eyes locked on one another.
End Except
Mood Music - A Warrior’s Prize
Birth of a Hero - Secession Studios
https://youtu.be/JpHMVEtyxKo
#alexsandr kallus#kallus#imperial kallus#kalluzeb#star wars rebels#star wars#au#fanfic#fanart#swr fanart#swr fanfic#in the time of Atlantis#hot kallus#garazeb orrelios#zeb#kallus x zeb#wilhuff tarkin#wullf yularen#vader#arihnda#explict#adventure#gladiator zeb#comfortember 2022#The Hunter And The Healer Series Part 1
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The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, February 4th
MASTER: The order of Aurelius. We are the select, the elite.
ANGELUS: And you live in the sewers, do you?
MASTER: We live below, giving tribute to the old ones. Awaiting that promised day when we will arise. Arise! And lay *waste* to the world above.
ANGELUS: Why'd you want to do that?
MASTER: Huh?
ANGELUS: Well, I mean, have you *been* above lately? It's quite nice. Me, I could never live in a rat-infested stink hole like this. Pardon me for saying so. But I gotta have meself a proper bed or I'm a terror.
~~Darla~~
The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.
[Drabbles & Short Fiction]
With a Sweet Emotion by Leata (Angel/Spike, G)
[Chaptered Fiction]
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion, Chapter 373 by madimpossibledreamer (Ensemble, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure crossover, T)
Ship of the Line: Far Traveler, Chapter 5 by Worldmaker (Xander, Buffy, Willow, Stargate crossover, M)
The Sun Also Rises, Chapter 90 by Grundy (Buffy, The Silmarillion crossover, T)
Keeping Up With the Scoobies, Chapter 20 by Takara_Phoenix (Buffy/Spike, T)
who could ever leave me, darling – but who could stay? (you could stay), Chapter 11 by MillennialCryBaby (Buffy/Spike, E)
Since You’ve Been Gone, Chapter 6 by HuonParticlesAreHarmless, myrobotheart (Buffy/Giles, Stargate crossover, M)
Bring Me To Life : A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event, Chapter 64 by Jean_theGuardian (Buffy/Angel, Spike/Faith, not rated)
What Lies Within, Chapter 29 by cawthraven (Buffy/Spike, E)
Charmed: The Faith Chronicles, Chapter 24 by BrennaLynn (Buffy/Faith, Charmed crossover)
Fundamentalism in the Heat of the Moment, Chapter 8 by Banana_ana (Angel/Lindsey, Supernatural crossover, E)
One of the Chosen Many, Chapter 11 by spikessweetgirl75 (Titanic crossover, T)
six names for a troublemaker, Chapter 5 by The_Eclectic_Bookworm (Giles & Scoobies, G)
Supporting The Incredible Hulk (And Bruce Banner), Chapter 20 by SomeMeaninglessName (Willow, Buffy, Marvel universe crossover, T)
Rivers Always Reach the Sea, Chapter 4 by Kean (abreathofsnowandashes) (Buffy/Angel, M)
Come On Over, Chapter 14 by Janis70 (Buffy/Giles, M)
What the hell is a Bothy?, Chapter 2 by Alwaysandforevermylove (Buffy/Faith, Killing Eve crossover, E)
Spuffy Drabbles, Chapter 3 by GorgonMorgan (Buffy/Spike, T)
Encounters, Chapter 3 by holetoledo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)
Wallflower, Chapter 18 by Girlytek (Buffy/Spike, R)
Bleeding Poetry, Chapter 56 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)
Whiplash, Chapter 6 by Ninereeds (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)
Ties to the World, Chapter 13 by The Danish Bird (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)
Aphantasia, Chapter 6 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, R)
Spiderwebs, Chapter 8 by Willow25 (Buffy/Spike, R)
Bleeding Poetry, Chapters 52-56 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)
Wallflower, Chapter 18 by Girlytek (Buffy/Spike, R)
[Images, Audio & Video]
Artwork: S3E5 Homecoming… bonding through hatred and violence! by wolfstrong (Buffy & Cordelia, worksafe)
Artwork: Daphne The Vampire Slayer by Arsenic (worksafe)
Artwork: Buffy/Angel by Lucifer Slater (worksafe)
Artwork: Spike by isevery0nehereverystoned (worksafe)
Video: Lego Buffy - Buffy Tries to Bazooka Principal Wood by Trevor Carlee
Fanvid: Spike and Buffy | Hurricane (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) // William the Bloody by HdEditsAM
Fanvid: Buffy & Angel || Driver's License by FandomDiaries
Fanvid: buffy & angel | strangers by a.
Fanvid: UNDERGROUND - SAM-ELENA-BUFFY by dizzygirl760
Fanvid: Spike-Rasputin by Loki Female Variant
Fanvid: damon + buffy; fresh poison each week by JennProdz
Fanvid: You Can Follow My Footprints || Buffy and Dawn by AddieVids
Fanvid: Spikes character development - Simply the best by jlisa25
Vidlet: ► Spike & Buffy | People You Know by fictionaledits
Vidlet: Spike x Buffy x Angel by shannonrey330
Slideshow: Buffy The Vampire Slayer S6 / Rachel Platten Fight Song (Official Video) by Driad
Slideshow: Buffy The Vampire Slayer S7 / Buffy Summers ll Remember Me / Frances Bushell by Driad
[Reviews & Recaps]
Video: Slayer Sunday-Something Blue by Jane Talks Reel
Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 3 - How Faith Serves as the Perfect Dark Reflection by Pop Culture Patrician
Podcast: 7.8 – "Sleeper" by If the Apocalypse Comes, Beep Me
[Community Announcements]
BuffyBoards Newsletter Vol. 71 by Plasma
[Fandom Discussions]
It’s funny that anya got turned into a capitalist by a board game by all-seeing-ifer
It’s so unfair that anya and angel never got to interact by all-seeing-ifer
Sometimes I think about how Dawn was made from Buffy because she’s the Slayer by Kitkatt0430
when Spike fell for Buffy by letteredlettered
Angel is like a reverse marie kondo by oversize-button-up
Who smokes weed in Buffy: THE HIGHSCHOOL YEARS by wolfstrong
The show never really deals with what it means to be a master vampire by disco-tea
Angel was so mean to darla about their time together as evil vampires by ex-vengeancedemon
Discussion of 1.20 "War Zone" continued by Plasma
Discussion of 2.12 "Bad Eggs" continued by multiple posters
Give to charity and volunteer, but don't accept it continued by multiple posters
Was Anya obsessed with Xander? continued by Angelkiss and Plasma
What would you say is the best season for your favourite characters? by Bop
Biggest Strength & Biggest Weakness Of Each Season by Holden Norgorov
Showtime by Holden Norgorov
Am I the only one who wished we saw more of Marcus Hamilton? by sutting
Thoughts on Smile Time? by Defvac2
Did you ever ship Angel and Kate? by DarkstarX84
Spike in Gone by PotatoWonderful7860
Season 7 if Tara lived by Ajacentmagic
Who here has read Buffy novels? by mowthfulofcavities
Which slasher villain would you like to see Buffy face up against? by Beached-Peach
What is an episode you come back to regularly and why? by InfiniteMehdiLove
Is it weird that I prefer s1-3 [of Buffy] more than the later? by Superb_Cicada8375
Buffy at University by Draco_Rim
Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!
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🏥🩵🏃🏻♀️After floating at work, I ran 3 miles at the gym near one of my hospitals! Can't wait for a new chapter soon! Feeling well enough and energized today to run far again. 19 years as an elite long distance runner. Proud nurse, coach. Also Go Nevada Wolf Pack Men's Basketball team! Then at night time Gonzaga Men's Basketball game!🤩😍Come on Sweet 16, March Madness NCAA! 🏀We can do ittt! 🙌
Song played on Instagram is called "What Are We Waiting For?" By For King & Country!🤩🩵
Gonzaga University-my older sister Catherine Van-Schwartz (Catt Van)(Former KOLO 8 News Reporter)graduated from years ago in 2012!
Always needing some prayers again.🙏 I, Mina Van 文风英 Woon Foong Yin (in Hakka Chinese).Nevada born & raised.Family living in Nevada for 45 (forty-five) years.Spread kindness.❤️
In the name of the Guan Yin, Ong Lee (meaning Buddha in Hakka Chinese langauge), Yay-Su (Jesus Christ), Ty-uh- ma (Mother Mary Virgin Mother Mary)
In the name of Jesus, Amen!🙏
Then my other successful blood-related family of doctors in my family,🇺🇸veterans,doctors,nurses,coaches,news reporter,lobbyist,good singers,dancers,good photographers, good writers,artists,a cop,a dentist,teachers, etc.Mixed family of Asians & white people.Spread Kindness.
Again, half of our family is Asian half our family is white. Even-though my parents look Asian we have some Chinese, Vietnamese, Native American, small portions of French, German descent, Ashkenazi Jewish descent DNA Ancestry
✞♡ # Selfie # Nurse # Coach # Jumpsplits # NativeNevadan # StopAsianHate # Biden2024💙 # JesusChrist 🦂 # Buddha # GuanYin # MotherMary # NevadaBornAndRaised # HakkaChineseRaised # ProChoice (though, in politics) # Equality # Justice # Healthcare # Running 🏃🏻♀️ # NevadaNative # athletic # HomeMeansNevada # Nevada # UNRnevadaAlumnaMay2016 # 3collegeDegrees # 3MedicalLicenses
•2019:OlderSisterCatherineVan&Adam Schwartz’sWedding&TheirWebsiteOn: https://www.theknot.com/us/catherine-van-and-adam-schwartz-aug-2019•ReminiscingMoreThan200PeopleCame.
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Fanfic asks for askers
1- My favorite fic of yours Riza as the Flame Alchemist!! You already know how crazy I am about it but my god, it HAUNTS me. The POSSIBILITIES!! The WRITING and THEMES! The ANGST! THE KIMBLIZA AAAAAAA
5- No specific one jumps to mind, but I like Harry Potter and your famous rarepair has interesting characters, so I’ve always wanted to try one out! With your extensive catalogue of fics about them I’m sure I’ll find something I’ll end up adoring, I’ve been keeping it as a cozy afternoon plan for when I need it
6 & 7 together: That chapter in Metallic Crimson with Edward drugged and on the verge of death. For better or for worse it’s the story beat that immediately comes to mind whenever I think about MC, my god. I am still devastated that chapter did THINGS to me Limeta you don’t understand
10- And that ties nicely with the previous question. I never expected to be interested in Kimblee & Edward as a duo whatsoever, looking back there’s def interesting material from canon to play with for their dynamic, but I just never cared fr fr. A big part of your FMA fics focus on these two’s relationship to each other and it’s so cool!!! Kimblee caring for a kid? Unheard of. Edward grappling with moral ambiguity? Unthinkable. They are so cool together and unexpectedly heartwarming and interesting to follow. Just make them hug already
8- What I like the most about your writing is a tough question, I’d say overall it’s your sense of pacing! Idk how to say it except how very well-made your fics are. The atmosphere is always on point, the humor is genuinely very fun, the prose is haunting and visceral sometimes, the imagery is often so poetic both in execution and concept, but maybe the most impressive of all is how you tie all of this up so seamlessly together! Your fics always make for very easy reads that swiftly brings u along for an adventure and that’s very cool. Oh!! Also you explore a very wide range of themes and ambiances, like there’ll be fics that are so fluffy and simple and slice of life yippee, and then next to that you’ll have a fic about how alcoholism impacts someone and one about cultural elitism and the very serious political and social issues ensuing, and it’s genuinely touching and well done and has something to say! Very interesting and in depth, coherent original worldbuilding too. You also make me care about ocs and chars I normally don’t care for, so kudos on that. Aghhhh what can I say, I’m a fan. I am playdough between your mastermind typing fingers, you can make me feel anything you intend so easily and you never fail
11- More kimbliza fluff. Make them in love. Make them be cute and sweet 🙏🙏 Also them bantering and razzing each other but I scavenge your Tumblr for those interactions snippets enough that I feel decently satiated on that front. Who else is gonna write my needed dose of kimbliza? Me? Haha you jokester you
12- I always reread a bit when I write up my long comments, but I don’t often reread fics fully. I also often bookmark your fics and write my favorite bit on it so I can go and reread those parts. But I can def see myself doing full rereads in the future too, usually I reread some fav fics every year or so. Or to get back in the kimbliza writing headspace also, your fics are def perfect for that 🙏
13- Oh yeah for sure. I don’t have many friends into FMA alas, but I force my mom whom I get along very well with to read fanfics I really like and want others to read + have someone to talk about it with lol, and lemme tell you the level of harassment I used for her to read RFA… I’m still trying to get her to read MC though -clenches fist- one day…
9- RFA please…. Please…. Plea-
Tbh I SHOULD update RFA it's just that I kind of got scared that it might be so fucked up people wouldn't like it but if Noda sensei can write a sperm fight in golden kamuy and still have me invested perhaps I, too, can have Riza Hawkeye traumatize us all just a little more than she already has.
I'll write RFA. I will!! I know how it ends!! It's just that I have to write a lot of action and I kinda suck ass at action
Miku. Miku please read Awareness if you're gonna read my HP fics. Please give that story some love it is forgotten and nobody has read it in years. I love that fic to bits. It's one of the most darling stories I've written. Is in my head rent free. I think about chapter 10 of that story almost every week.
But if you want Abraxas Malfoy then definitely read Retired Prometheus. If you want worldbuilding on par with MC? Then Retired Prometheus is for you! And luckily for you, it's finished. I mean awareness is too but RP is like chefs kiss.
All of MC began because I wanted to ask the question: what if Kimblee found Edward and Alphonse? But then the more I wrote the more I asked myself What if Edward and Alphonse got to know Kimblee?
To me their dynamic is the most fascinating in MC. That level of hidden trust between them continues to endear itself to me. Edward can say shit all he likes and Kimblee can tease him about his childishness all he likes but the both of them understand on a fundamental level that they are both deserving of respect and that they do respect each other as alchemists first and foremost and then as allies. We do get the former in Canon but the latter is interesting to further delve into. Though Kimblee did save Edward's life with Pride in Canon so!! I just built on that :D
Also miku, did you read the re-done Fullmetal Lotus? It's got 3 chapters now and like 10k more words. Definitely more of Kimblee and Ed being a duo. Plus some self indulgent Kimbliza (CURSE U MAES HUGHES U DONT KNOWNHOW DELICIOUS THE KIMBLIZA IS IN MC)
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Snakeskin (Sephiroth/Reader) (ch. 7/?)
AO3 / Pillowfort
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13
Tags: First Time, Reader-Insert, Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Frank Discussions of Past Rape/Abuse, Everyone is Queer, Canon-Compliant (if you squint), Pre-Crisis-Core Seph, Slow Burn, i continue to disappoint my friends and family, sephiroth is a virgin and in this essay i will, Reader is a Cis Woman, fluffy sex, Praise Kink, Gratuitous Biochemistry
Summary:
You are a young biologist, fresh out of graduate school, working in Shinra's R&D Division under Professor Hojo. You had long since given up on finding a partner and starting a family, preferring instead the company of your cell samples and your scientific instruments.
As the conflict in Wutai worsens, you strike up an unexpected friendship with a First Class SOLDIER.
(Sephiroth/Reader Slow Burn)
TW's for this chapter: Alcohol, brief mentions of self-harm ideation, description of a panic attack/traumatic episode near end of chapter.
---
The elevator was taking especially long. You stared into your cup of coffee; your own morose expression stared back.
“Professor.”
You jumped. Sephiroth had appeared next to you, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. He eyed you with a humorless expression.
“Hi,” you said warily. Genesis’s voice rang in your head, almost mocking in its tone: No wonder Sephiroth’s sweet on you. Doubtless Sephiroth himself knew his secret had gone out. Now, he was here to take it out on you.
But Sephiroth shifted from foot to foot and looked towards the elevator doors. His face took on a slightly pink tone.
You looked back into your coffee.
Sephiroth’s voice was strained. “It’s nice to have some sun for once.”
You wanted to scream. Instead, you replied, “Sure. It’s been dark lately.”
“Indeed.”
A silence stretched between the two of you. You looked down: you had started tapping your foot and hadn’t even realized it.
Sephiroth cleared his throat again. You didn’t look up.
You said, “Days can only get longer, right?”
You heard him shift to face you. You were babbling to your shoes now: “Like, you know how a few minutes are added to the…the day as the winter goes on? We, uh, we passed the solstice, which was at the end of December, and so, that means it’s gonna get sunnier, so. It always makes me feel less depressed when I th—“
“Would you like to get a drink together?”
You winced and looked up. Sephiroth looked stricken, as if he hadn’t meant to voice that question aloud. He swallowed heavily and turned towards the elevator doors. Far below, the elevator chimed.
A cold terror seized you when you realized what he had asked. All you could manage was, “Huh?”
Sephiroth stretched his neck to one side with an audible crack. He wouldn’t look you in the eye. “I have my own place in the SOLDIER barracks. You can…I mean.” He shook his head and shifted from foot to foot again.
You were trembling again. The coffee threatened to splash out of the sides of the mug.
You had been right the entire time.
No one was ever just kind to you. There was always a catch.
A myriad of options flashed before you as you stared at your shoes. Sure, you could push him to meet you in a public place, but the Silver Elite would have a field day. If you went to his apartment— and the thought made you shiver— there was the risk of sex. Surely, he would want something from you.
You could say no, but—
No.
No, you couldn’t.
You didn’t get that privilege. You had walked into this situation, made yourself available.
You were a fool for ever giving him that charm.
Sephiroth spoke up. “I apologize. You’re not interested.”
“I’m interested,” you said, voice stiff and robotic. “What time?”
There was hope in his voice: “I’m free Friday at 7.”
“Friday at 7.” You looked up at him and managed a smile. “Where in the barracks?”
He had that expression again, soft and boyish and bright. He was so good at convincing you that he wouldn’t hurt you; most people were, or maybe you were just bad at reading people. Perhaps a little of both. “The forty-third floor. Just say my name at the door, they won’t stop you.” He reached into his pocket, digging for his phone. “Do you want me to text you?”
“I’ll remember.”
Sephiroth nodded once, as if you had settled a business deal. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
When the elevator came, he took a step forward. When you didn’t follow, he turned to you and held out a hand. “Coming?”
You waved his hand away, trying your best to seem nonchalant. “I can wait for the next one.”
“You sure?” he asked. Beyond him, a gaggle of marketing people held the doors open, looking up at Sephiroth as if he had hung the stars. If the elevator was that full already, you would have to press against him.
You can only delay that so long.
“I’m sure," you squeaked.
He smiled and waved over his shoulder. “Bye, then.”
When the elevator doors shut, you turned and headed for the stairs. You took them two at a time from the 60th floor to the 66th floor, and even that didn't quell the anxiety in you.
---
The skirt you had on felt all wrong. Everything about your body felt wrong. You resisted the urge to check yourself out in the reflection of the elevator doors. Could makeup oxidize this fast? You probably looked like a melted wax figure by now.
You touched a tentative finger to your lashes; it came away jet-black. Yes, that was right, you had gone too hard and too fast on your eye makeup. With your luck, you thought, you probably looked like a clown outside of your dingy bathroom. When had this lipstick expired?
The barracks lobby had been empty. The lone guard hadn’t even looked up from his W-drama as you scurried past him. Maybe Sephiroth had warned him about you already: yeah, there’s this girl, she’ll look a little bit pathetic, like you found her in a box on the side of the road, let her in so I can give her a saucer of warm milk.
The elevator chimed and opened into a long white hallway. The silence was absolute; not even the sounds of traffic permeated the air. You couldn’t hear your footsteps on the soft carpet. If you sat still in your apartment, you could hear the neighbors eating dinner, the dogs in the alley, the cars honking at each other in the street; the hush up here felt foreign, eerie.
The end of the hallway was a floor-to-ceiling window; you tentatively approached, looked over the edge. Stories below you, Midgar was just lighting up for the night, taxis darting this way and that. This high up, even the buildings looked like toys. You could see the train puffing away and, beyond the edge of the plate, the unforgiving blackness of the desert.
You turned around and studied the lone doors in the hallway:
4301
4302
You knocked on 4302 and waited.
No response.
You put your ear to the door. No good: there was such an intense stillness beyond, you were pretty sure the door was made of steel.
Someone called your name softly. When you turned, the opposite door had opened up into another apartment. Sephiroth leaned against the door frame. He was out of his armor and was in a black turtleneck and khakis more suited to casual SOLDIER regalia. He looked nearly identical to how he had presented at the holiday party, except he was in his bare feet.
“No one lives there,” he said, gesturing at the door. “I’ve been looking forward to a neighbor, but one never comes.”
“Oh.” You felt hot under his gaze. You tugged on the hem of your skirt; you knew you shouldn’t have worn it, you looked so much younger than him. “Just you, then?”
“Just me.” He gestured for you to follow him. “Let’s get you out of the hallway.”
No witnesses. You were on your own.
You took a deep breath and hesitated in the entryway to his apartment.
“You can take your shoes off,” said Sephiroth. “Whatever you’d like.”
The far wall was made up of another floor-to-ceiling window, now looking out over Sector 1. Cream-colored curtains hung on either side. You kicked off your heels and placed them neatly next to the threshold. The wood floor echoed under your feet as you stepped in, letting the door swing shut behind you. The apartment walls were a deep maroon, making the space feel warm and cave-like. A cold, modern-looking sofa dominated the living room from the entryway to the glass window, where it made a sharp L turn and extended to the opposing wall. A marble coffee table stretched from one end of the couch to another, sitting atop a charcoal-gray carpet that was soft underfoot. There was an enormous TV in the corner that didn’t look like it got much use. You awkwardly settled on the sofa, smoothing your skirt in your lap and pressing your thighs together. Despite its appearance, the sofa was soft, and you sank back into it. At this angle, your back was to the kitchen, where Sephiroth was fussing. The coffee table in front of you had a vase with flowers, real flowers.
And the books.
The entire wall in front of you had been converted into shelves; in the center was a massive electric fireplace, where blue flame danced back and forth behind glass. An uncountable number of books had been crammed onto the shelves, jammed into every available space. He piled art books on the coffee table: Art of the Ancients, Modern Engineering, a book on cave paintings. There were even stacks of books, waiting to be read, on the floor in every corner of the living room.
You slowly rose to your feet and crept around the edge of the coffee table. The books were mostly histories, from what you could see; volumes upon volumes of military histories, political analyses, biographies and autobiographies and retellings. You looked up. The shelves rose to the ceiling, piled full everywhere you could look. In some places, the excess books had to be pressed flat, covers facing out, or piled on top of other volumes.
On the top-most shelf, far above you, sat Masamune. Sephiroth had gingerly laid her across dark wooden stands, propping her up on her side. If you turned your head, the light caught off of her silver blade. The books stayed away from her, as if they grew legs and shied away from such a famous weapon.
“Do you want to hold it?”
You jumped and turned around. Sephiroth had wandered back into the room with two generous glasses of red wine. He watched you carefully.
“Can I?” you asked.
He gave you a sideways look, that coy smile teasing the edges of his lips. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you to.”
You backed away as Sephiroth set the glasses down on the coffee table. “Do I sit down? God, I feel like I’m holding someone’s kid, or something.”
He laughed and shook his head. “It’s not delicate. You have nothing to worry about.”
You backed into the L-shaped junction of the couch and plopped down anyway. Sephiroth lifted the sword off of its stand as if it weighed nothing.
He laid the sword flat in his palms. “Hold out your hands.”
You rested your hands on your thighs, palm up. Sephiroth knelt to your level and gingerly laid Masamune in your lap. You nearly buckled from the weight of it; he chuckled as you readjusted. The sword was longer than you were; this close, you could see scuffs on her blade, nicks from countless scuffles. The braided leather of the handle was sturdy and reassuring in your left palm. Sephiroth settled on the floor beside your feet and leaned his elbow against the couch cushion, cheek in his palm, watching you examine the sword.
“Wow,” you breathed.
“It’s seen quite a lot,” he responded. “Angeal thinks it’s time to get it replaced, but it feels like a friend now.” He looked up at you. “Do you like it?”
Did it matter what you thought? It was his sword. A sword, you realized, that could end you without you even feeling it.
You looked past Sephiroth, to the door, heart beginning a wild tattoo in your chest. You were alone, and he was blocking the way out.
If he wanted to, he could.
Could what?
Your right palm closed around the blade—
“Ow! Fuck!”
Sephiroth was on you before you could respond. The sword left your lap. “Easy,” he hissed.
You trembled on the sofa. Blood welled up in your palm; you watched, numb, as it pooled in your grip.
“No one’s trained you on sword safety?” Sephiroth replaced Masamune atop her shelf and rushed to the kitchen. “Here, wait—“
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Why couldn’t you stop shaking?
“Why?” There was a rustling. The sink turned on, then off. A moment later, Sephiroth knelt in front of you. He took your hand in his and pressed a warm washcloth to the wound. The sting of the water against the fresh cut felt distant; the longer you watched him tend to the wound, the more it felt as if you were watching someone else’s hand, not your own.
Absently, you wished the wound had gone deeper.
“Sorry,” you said again, voice pitching high. Your other hand fluttered in your lap. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Sephiroth lifted the washcloth and peered at the wound. His hands were warm. This was the first time you had touched skin-to-skin, besides that fleeting contact at the party, and it was over a stupid mistake. Your stupid mistake. “You didn’t know. It happens to our new recruits all the time.”
“It was dumb of me—“
“I should have warned you.” Sephiroth dabbed at the cut, turned your hand this way and that. “It’s not very deep. It should heal quickly.”
You couldn’t look at him. He placed your hand gently back in your lap. “Wait here," he said. "I’ll bandage it.”
You stared at your heels in the entryway. You were in your stockings; with the bleeding hand and the too-short skirt and the awful makeup, you must’ve looked like a child. You looked up at Masamune; your blood was still on her blade.
“Isn’t that going to stain?” you asked as Sephiroth returned with a roll of gauze.
He followed your gaze to the sword. “Even if it did,” he said slowly, “Would you rather I cleaned it before attending to you?”
Instinctively, you tucked your injured hand behind your back. You couldn’t answer that question. The shame must have been plain on your face because Sephiroth sighed, as if he was dealing with a particularly stubborn toddler. He knelt in front of you and held out an expectant hand.
He said, “You don’t deserve a bleeding scar."
You couldn’t say anything; the more you spoke, the more annoyed you seemed to make him.
Just like you annoy everyone.
You pressed your lips together and obediently placed your right hand in his. Sephiroth was efficient as he wrapped your palm. There was no way you could tell him why you had gotten upset, why you had injured yourself on his weapon. Only part of it was on accident, and the other part that meant it…
Well. That part stayed buried for a reason.
Without looking up from his work, he said, “You’re going to apologize again.” His eyes briefly flicked up to your face. “I know you are.”
You reached up for your eyes to rub them out of habit, but stopped just in time. The makeup; you'll smudge it. “Maybe so,” you said, a petulant edge in your voice.
He scoffed. “You really think I’ll let you get away with that? With crucifying yourself?” He reached behind himself to the coffee table, took a pair of gleaming silver scissors. You hadn’t even noticed them sitting next to the gauze. With a single, fluid movement, he cut the bandage. “I don’t tolerate that behavior in my own men.”
You shifted on the couch, cheeks burning.
He replaced the scissors on the coffee table and set to fastening the gauze with a metal clip. “I certainly won’t tolerate it in you,” he said softly.
Sephiroth curled your fingers into a fist and tenderly pushed your bandaged hand back towards you. When he looked up at your face, his eyes were fierce. “Understood?”
Your mouth was dry when you spoke up. “Most people just let it go and tell me to sulk.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Then most people don’t appreciate you.”
You fought back a relieved smile and blinked hard. Like hell you were going to cry on— not a date, but on whatever this was. “Thanks.”
“I’ll tell you as many times as you need.” He gave your hand a firm pat and rose to his feet.
Before you could say anything else, he offered you one of the wine glasses. “From a vineyard near Junon,” he said. “You told me you wanted to work on one—“
You reached for the wine with your left hand: your good hand. “I wanted to be a wine brewer,” you said softly, touched that he had remembered such a small detail. “Once upon a time.”
As your fingers closed around the stem, Sephiroth tilted his head and examined your wrist. His lips parted in surprise.
That was right: you usually wore lab coats and long-sleeved blouses in HQ. “Oh,” you said. “I got this tattoo a while ago. Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” he said, wonder evident in his tone. He reached out a hand and hesitated, brow furrowing.
A pang of fear darted through you. You pulled your arm out of reach.
Sephiroth made a fist and pulled away.
You cringed. “Sor—“
“If you apologize again,” said Sephiroth, “I’ll send you back down that elevator.”
You couldn’t help but grin. “Can I take the wine with me?”
He settled on the couch and took up his glass, chuckling and shaking his head. “You are brutal.”
You took a sip. The wine was incredible: it had a cinnamon spark to it. You took a more generous gulp this time; you could almost taste the sunshine, the ocean, the sandy dirt by the cliffs. He had actually tried.
“I know.” You held up your left arm again by way of apology. Sephiroth leaned closer to examine the tattoo, but this time, he kept his hands to himself. You felt gratitude bloom in your belly.
“Did it hurt?” he asked. His eyes roved the length of the stems, traced every petal and leaf.
“Sure,” you said. “But it’s more of a burning sensation. It…felt like I was getting unzipped.”
The bridge of his nose crinkled as he smiled. He looked up at you. Oh, but his eyes were bright. Under Shinra’s fluorescent lights, it was easy to forget. In the dim light of his living room, his eyes glowed like a cat's. “Very brave of you.”
“Please. You’ve definitely had worse on the battlefield.”
“Maybe so,” he taunted.
You laughed and covered your mouth. Oh, but he was wicked. Where had this sense of humor been hiding? “You’re a bastard. Maybe I should leave.”
“I’m joking.” He angled towards you, resting his elbow on the back of the couch. He looked too big for the space; when it was just you, the apartment felt empty, as if it was made for multiple people. Somehow, with him in it, the room felt so much smaller.
You managed a smile. “I know.”
He smiled so hard that the bridge of his nose crinkled again. You looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up. Your eyes caught a stack of books next to the television.
“Reading’s a hobby,” you said.
“Mm?” Sephiroth followed your gaze.
“Back in the clinic.” You stood and walked around the table to look at the stack of books. These were all about Wutai: language manuals, dictionaries, travel guides. “You said you didn’t have any hobbies.”
“You would count reading as a hobby?”
Some of the spines had been cracked. The top book (Wutai: A Modern History) was clearly well-loved, the paper cover hanging by a few loose threads. “Well, yeah. You, uh, you like books?” Smooth.
Sephiroth’s voice was reverent when he replied to you, as if he was hugging a well-loved memory, as worn and faded as a childhood blanket. “I love books. When I was a kid, I used to run into the library and hide for hours.” He laughed under his breath; the couch groaned as he shifted his weight. In the reflection of the television, you watched as he pressed a finger to his mouth and gazed out of the window. “It scared the hell out of my guardian.”
“A guardian? Your parents didn’t take you?”
The Sephiroth reflection winced. “I didn’t know my parents.”
“Oh. Oh.” You straightened up and turned back to face him. There was a stiff, pained expression on his face; his eyes darted back and forth across the Midgar skyline. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged: the easy, exasperated gesture of someone who was used to pity. “It is what it is.”
You fumbled with the stem of your wineglass. “Who was your guardian?”
“Whoever was on shift.” He drew one thoughtful finger against his bottom lip. “Usually one of the research assistants.”
You choked on your next sip of wine. “You were raised in a lab?”
“I was raised here, yes.”
“Holy shit," you breathed.
He glanced at you in surprise. “You didn’t know?”
“Wh— no?”
“Ah.” He rearranged himself on the couch, tucked his feet under him. “My mother died in childbirth. My father had already skipped town. The company owned the hospital she gave birth in, so they took me in. And, well…” He took a sip of wine and raised his eyebrows. “Here I am.”
“Wait.” You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “You’re basically a child slave.”
“That is an awful way of putting it.”
“But you’re working for Shinra? You didn’t have a choice.”
“Well, hey,” he said, “I don’t see any difference between that and some kid working for his parents’s business. How is it different if I were raised above a restaurant?”
There was a defensive tone in his voice that made you feel wary. You rubbed the bridge of your nose. “I guess.”
“You guess.” He rolled his shoulders. “Where are you from?”
“Underplate.”
“No kidding.”
“Sector 1 Slums, yeah. I went to Gast for undergrad and did my doctorate in their bio department.”
“You didn’t want to leave Midgar?”
You paced the length of the bookshelves. He seemed to have sectioned his books off into categories: autobiographies nearest the fireplace, history books off to the right, a series of ancient-looking leather encyclopedias on the highest shelf, near Masamune. “I mean, I did, but GU was the best school I got into. I really wanted to go to the Northern Continent, but all the schools there either waitlisted me or rejected me. Twice with the PhD programs.” You peeked into the blindingly-white kitchen through an opening in the wall, where a few lonely bar chairs sat against a marble bartop. “It’s kind of nice to be close to home, anyway.”
“I can imagine.”
“You would’ve loved the libraries,” you said softly. “People said the biggest one looked like a fairy tale.”
The sofa creaked again; Sephiroth had turned to see what you were looking at. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I don’t mean to get you drunk.”
“No,” you said, though there was a bowl of clementines on the far counter that you were eyeing. If you ate anything right now, and if Sephiroth moved wrong, you might throw up. Better to refuse more wine than try to sober up with a meal that would end up on his lap. “I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why do you ask me that?” you blurted. You turned back to Sephiroth; he rested his cheek on his hand, watching you over the back of the couch. “You’re always, like, ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Are you fine?’”
“Because I worry,” he said without moving from his spot.
“Worry about me?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, the structural integrity of the Shinra building. Yes, you.”
“Ugh.” You walked back to the couch with your head down. You plopped down beside him. “You’re difficult.”
“Why does that bother you?” Sephiroth said, and you realized all too late that you two were now very close together.
You looked down; his hand sat on the cushion between your thigh and his, curled into a fist, as if he had moved to hold your hand but thought better of it at the last possible second.
“You being difficult?” you said to it.
“I do worry about you,” he pressed. “You are underpaid and overworked. You have one of the worst bosses in the entire company—“
You laughed into your wine glass.
“I’m serious.” Sephiroth couldn’t keep the answering chuckle out of his own voice. He set his glass down on the table. “I’ve seen you check into the building at eight in the morning and not leave until past eight at night. You manage multiple research assistants. You give presentations to Lazard.”
You gulped down the rest of your glass and set it on the coffee table next to his. The wine burned in the back of your throat as you smoothed your skirt down. “You don’t have to worry.”
Something touched your hand. You jumped.
Sephiroth had placed his hand over yours. He said your first name quietly.
You froze in place, heart thumping in your chest. Perhaps you had lied when you told your therapist you didn’t understand the language of touch. You understood a fist, closed eyes, getting fucked against a mattress. You understood a missed call; you understood fake kindness.
You didn’t understand this.
You didn’t understand tenderness. Worse still, you didn’t understand how something in you settled when he turned your hand over in both of his and intertwined his fingers with yours. It was desperate, clawing, almost painful in how sweet it was: a teenager trying to hold hands with his first crush. You stared at your interlaced hands and thought only of how small your palm was in his.
Sephiroth’s voice was a low murmur. “Is this okay?”
“I…” You looked up at him. He was so close now, leaning in like he wanted to share a secret. “Yeah,” you said, and you were startled to realize you were being honest. “It’s more than okay.”
“You tell me if it’s not,” he said. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his. He had that boyishly eager expression again. Why did your heart hurt? The room was so quiet.
You looked down at your intertwined hands on the couch cushion. It was a while before Sephiroth spoke again.
“Can I…”
His lashes were so long. You felt woozy.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice soft and wondering.
“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, please.”
“Okay,” he said softly, and he didn’t move.
You stared up at him. He stared down at you.
“Here I go,” he added.
“Whenever you’re ready,” you replied.
And he leaned in and his mouth was so soft against yours, just as soft as you thought it would be, and he laid tentative fingers against the back of your neck, a silent invitation to come closer, please come closer, and you fell into the kiss gratefully, feeling everything in your body tumble towards him, the soft fruit of your guts spilling open for him, asking to be held because it had been so long since you had been kissed like this, like you mattered, like the other person wanted you for you, and you were a fool, you thought, as you cupped his soft cheeks and felt him exhale through his nose, for thinking you could ever push this away, push him away, and his free hand pressed against the small of your back as you deepened the kiss, as you sucked on his bottom lip like he was a panacea for all of the hurts inside of you, for all of the nights you had fallen asleep thinking about what it would be like to do this, to kiss him, to let him hold you.
When you surfaced for air, he chased after your mouth, eyes still closed, and you pressed your nose to his. You were dizzingly, disorientingly happy.
Sephiroth opened his eyes; his pupils had gone wide with desire. “Wow,” he breathed.
“Good?” you asked.
“Perfect,” he replied, and he caught your lips with his again. You tangled your hands in his hair and— oh, wow, his hair really was soft. How often had you fantasized about this without knowing?
But then your back hit the couch and—
No.
No, no, no.
This was all wrong.
His mouth tasted like spit and he was too heavy on you and you couldn’t tell where the door was. How long had you been lying there, pinned? Forever, you thought, it’s been years and I’ve never woken up from this couch. This was all a dream. You remembered the song playing on the radio in the background, how you had recited the lyrics in your head. When you think back on it now, you see yourself from a distance, in the crowd of people, watching yourself watch—
Someone called your name.
“Don’t,” you whispered. “Not again.”
“—you okay?”
A hand cupped your cheek, and yes, he had done that too, the boy who reached inside of you in front of your entire school at a party and took your heart as plunder and never let it go. He had been so tender when robbing you of your humanity; you thanked him afterwards. There were so many boys and girls who carved you out like the soft earth after rain. Your hands landed on something solid. You tried to push him away again, but to your horror, your hands fell limp against his chest. No matter how hard you pushed, nothing happened.
Your voice was a low whine. "Please. Stop.”
He— Sephiroth, the boy on the couch, both, neither— said your name. You let out a frustrated grunt and shoved harder. Why wasn’t it working? Why were you so weak? Nothing moved: every muscle, held in place by the strings, by the Not-You.
“Sorry,” you gasped. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
The man said your name again, urgency in his voice.
You tried shoving as hard as you could, but your arms didn’t respond: You fell, limp and lifeless. Your breathing turned into hyperventilating. He was still there on top of you. You couldn’t control your body anymore; it was too late for that. He was going to destroy you, and there was nothing you could do about it.
You did this to yourself.
Two hands grasped your wrists. “Stop,” said the man.
You shook your head. “Please, no,” you begged. “I’ll be good. Please don’t.”
He released your wrists. Without thinking, you shrunk away from him, cowering against the couch. You squeezed your eyes shut. A cloying stillness hung in the air.
A blanket settled around your shoulders.
You opened your eyes.
Sephiroth knelt at your feet, staring intently at you. You hadn’t moved. You looked down; you were still clothed, still lying on the couch. Nothing had happened while you were gone.
He held up a hand. “Press against me,” he said. “As hard as you can.”
You blinked at him and sat up.
He gestured towards your hand. “Go on. When you’re ready.”
You lifted a hand and touched a few fingers to his palm.
His voice was gentle. “That’s it. Now push.”
You pushed, or you tried to. Your fingers slipped off of his palm: still useless, still limp.
“Actually push,” he said. “Harder than that.”
This time, you pressed your hand flat against his, fingertip to fingertip. You shoved as hard as you could, but nothing happened.
“Harder.”
You cradled your elbow in your free hand, as if this would help steady you, and shoved again. But your muscles did nothing, and Sephiroth gave you an exasperated look.
“Come on,” he said. “You’re not trying.”
Something in you lit on fire.
How dare he?
You grit your teeth and shoved again; he didn’t move. Your voice came in gasping breaths: “I’m— trying— as hard as I— can.”
He scoffed. “Please. This is pathetic.”
“Fuck you,” you snarled, and something in you unlocked. You braced your shoulder and heaved forward, and this time, Sephiroth’s hand did move: the tiniest, most incremental nudge.
He smiled, flashing a few perfectly-white teeth. “Good. Again.”
You took a deep breath and pushed; it felt like trying to move a brick wall, but as you pushed, Sephiroth’s hand gave backwards in painful millimeters. “Fuck you,” you said, just to feel yourself say it. “Don’t— don’t ever talk to me like that.”
“Tell me again.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that!”
“Again.”
“I hate you!”
And you pushed, and Sephiroth’s hand fell away. You gasped for air and wrung your hand out. Yes, there was the couch underneath you, and the smell of the wine lingering in the air, and you felt your toes wiggling on the carpet. Your heart had stopped racing.
Sephiroth wrung his hand out. “Very nice. Feeling better?”
“How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Sephiroth reached up and re-arranged the blanket around your shoulders. “That was all you.”
“No, I mean…” You looked towards the door. “You focused me. You did the same thing with the needle in the clinic. How?”
He moved his knees out from under himself and sat at your feet. “Ah,” he said with a quiet laugh. “Now I get what you mean. I redirected you.” He picked at a hangnail on his thumb. “You see it sometimes in the field,” he said quietly. “The new recruits kill someone for the first time, or something on a mission goes wrong, and they go--” He made a compressing motion with his palms, as if he was squeezing something into a box. “Inside themselves. They’ll spend all night crying, or they’ll stop talking, or they’ll…stop listening and self-destruct. So I help them ground.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head. Embarrassment burned in you, almost painful in its intensity. You wanted nothing more than to pull the blanket over your head. He had kissed you, and because you were broken, because you weren’t normal anymore, you had gone mental on him. You hunched your shoulders. First the sword, now this. You couldn’t go on a date right, couldn’t even hold a makeup brush like a normal girl. There were thousands of women who would kill to be in your position.
What was the matter with you?
Why couldn’t you just be normal?
Your eyes burned. There was a high whining sound in your ear, and you realized with a fresh wave of embarrassment that you were whimpering, and that made things so much worse. You had completely, utterly, fucked up the night.
Sephiroth murmured, “Don’t cry,” pleading and soft, and that did it, you were crying now, curling in on yourself as if you had been stabbed. You gasped for air like a drowning man, but it came out as a wretched sob.
A warm hand landed on your knee and rubbed it. You covered your face with your hands, as if this would hide you from him.
“Can I hold you?” he said softly. The couch cushion sagged next to you; he had sat down, his thigh to yours. You nodded, still sobbing, and when his arms wrapped around you, you pressed your forehead to his chest. God, but you sounded pathetic. There was no way he would call you again after this, the way you curled up in his lap like a needy child. Your therapist had told you to stop saying ugly-cry, but wasn’t that what you were doing now? Covering the front of his shirt in tears and snot and regret? He was just being nice; you imagined him rolling his eyes above you, checking the time on his phone, wondering when you’d finally leave.
But then something nuzzled your hair, and you realized Sephiroth had gently kissed you on the top of your head.
Your voice was ragged when you spoke up. “You don’t have to do that.”
“And if I want to?” His voice was a low hum against your skull. His heartbeat was steady under your cheek: so unlike yours, which still raced as if it was trying to break out of your chest and flee the apartment.
“Don’t—“
And when you shoved him this time, he actually let you go. You kept your head down as you ran for the door, grabbing your coat.
“Please don’t go,” he said from the couch.
You fumbled with your heels. After a tense second, you gathered them in your hand instead; better to run barefoot than stumble your way to the elevator.
“Please,” he said, and when you looked up, he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. “You can stay with me.”
“I have to go,” you mumbled.
Sephiroth stood. “Please, you can—“ He wrung his hands; you had never seen him do that, didn’t even know it was a gesture in his repertoire. “I can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind. I won’t touch you. I clearly overstepped.”
“No, no,” you said, and why were you smiling when he looked so upset? “I’m okay. I…I just, um.” Ah, you were smiling because he was upset. You were showing your belly, trying to please him after your mistake. “I have to go home. I’m sorry.”
“Wait,“ he said, but it was too late, you were already opening the door and stepping into the cold hallway.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, and you rushed towards the elevator in your bare feet, putting your coat on as you went. You mashed the “down” button with your injured hand, winced as the sting climbed up your arm like pins and needles. The elevator door opened almost immediately, and you ran inside.
When you looked up, Sephiroth was almost halfway into the hallway, staring after you. He was too far away for you to read his expression.
He lifted a hand in farewell.
You looked away and hit the button to close the doors.
---
You spent the weekend holed up in bed with the curtains drawn and the TV blaring. Your phone went off a few times, pinging with what you assumed were messages from Sephiroth, but you didn’t dare look. If you ignored him long enough, you were sure he’d finally get frustrated and give up on you.
Good, you thought to yourself. Then you could go back to ignoring each other at work.
The doorbell rang on Sunday evening. You sat up straight in bed and immediately regretted it as your head spun. Your trash was piled high with bad takeout, and it was taking its toll in the form of a stomachache and a migraine.
The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. The last time you checked, you weren’t expecting another delivery.
You grunted and walked over to the intercom on your wall. Without thinking, you pressed the button to unlock the building. Rapid footsteps ascended the stairwell as you searched your floor for clean pants.
“One second,” you called when a knock came at the door.
On the other side of the hall, blinking placidly in the dim hallway, stood a delivery guy. In his arms was a sizeable crystal vase full of bright red roses and lilies.
“For you,” he said as he held them out.
You raised your eyebrows. “I didn’t order this.” There was an older couple down the hall; maybe it was mis-delivered? “This is 4B.”
The delivery guy checked the receipt card tucked amongst the flowers. “4B. This is for you, miss.”
“You’ve got the wrong person—“
“Look,” huffed the man, “450 Albert Street, Apartment 4B, Sector 8. It’s yours.” He shoved the vase into your hands before you could protest. “Enjoy.”
You watched the delivery guy rush back to the stairs. The bouquet was fragrant; you pressed your nose to one of the lilies and took a tentative inhale. Real flowers. This close, you could see tiny white sprigs of Gypsophila hidden among the larger blooms.
You backed into your apartment and kicked the door closed. You set the vase down on your jewelry workbench and checked the receipt.
Yes, that was your full name and address. The return address simply read:
Anonymous
On the other side of the receipt was a note:
I want to try again. Will you let me?
Your stomach dropped.
No, it couldn’t be.
Why would he do this?
You felt a rose petal between thumb and forefinger as you flipped the receipt card over again. The order date was yesterday, the day after your…episode in Sephiroth’s apartment. The voice in your head said that this had to be a joke, or a consolation prize, simply his way of soothing himself after you had flipped out on his couch like some kind of freak because he had kissed you, like a normal person would after a good date. There was no way he really meant this.
You walked across the apartment and picked your phone up off of your kitchen counter. A few missed calls from Sephiroth, messages from the R&D groupchat about an upcoming conference, a series of texts from your mother asking what you were doing for the holidays. You pulled up the instant messaging app and clicked on Sephiroth’s icon. Somewhere around 1 AM Friday night, he had texted:
>>Are you okay? Call me ASAP.
You messaged him:
>>Did you send me flowers?
His reply was instantaneous:
>>Thank god. Are you okay?
You typed back:
>>Answer the question.
From Sephiroth:
>>Yes, I did. They made their way to you safely. Do you like them? I don’t think you’ve ever told me your favorite flower.
You looked up at the bouquet, and something in you broke open all over again. You typed:
>>I don’t have a favorite.
He replied:
>>We’ll change that.
You sniffled. So self-assured, as if you hadn’t gone absolutely insane on him. Your cheeks were wet; you were crying. He still wanted you, despite everything, despite how you had acted. Despite the ugly-cry, the anger, the running away. Your thumb was trembling as you typed:
>>Okay. You got me. Try again?
>>I thought you’d never ask. Yes. Same time next week?
You laughed and swiped the back of your hand against your face.
>>I’m really sorry. I don’t know what happened.
>>Don’t be sorry. I know you didn’t mean it.
There was a slight hesitation on Sephiroth’s end. The next message pinged on your phone:
>>I’m excited to see you again.
You turned off your phone and let yourself cry.
Go to next chapter >>>
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Final fantasy 7 remake release date gameplay
#FINAL FANTASY 7 REMAKE RELEASE DATE GAMEPLAY ARCHIVE#
#FINAL FANTASY 7 REMAKE RELEASE DATE GAMEPLAY PLUS#
Switching control between characters can be done at any time during combat. Going into this mode slows down time, allowing for better strategic decisions in the thick of battle. It also gives them access to a temporary state called tactical mode. When full, the ATB gauge allows characters to unleash special attacks, cast spells, or use items. The ATB gauge can, however, be charged faster by landing regular attacks on enemies. Cloud and his party build their gauges gradually over time. In battle, each character’s actions, such as using abilities, magic, and items, depend on their ATB gauge. Avoiding and defending against enemy attacks will also be done manually with dodge and guard commands. Players will be able to move around freely and interact with various objects on the battlefield. New Combat Systemįinal Fantasy 7 Remake’s combat system draws similarities to the Kingdom Hearts series’ action-style gameplay. Final Fantasy 7 Remake will be released on Mafor the PlayStation 4. The game’s official release date was also announced at the end of the presentation. Among those shown in the event were the new combat system, story sections, and modern character renders. Key features of the upcoming game were finally revealed in Square Enix’s E3 2019 presentation. News of the upcoming game would die down until the game’s second major trailer released on PlayStation’s 2019 State of Play livestream. He joins a terrorist group called AVALANCHE which opposes Shinra’s questionable methods of harnessing power from the environment.Ī number of events set Cloud on a mission to save the planet from destruction while constantly haunted by his forgotten past.įinal Fantasy 7 Remake was first announced at E3 2015 during the PlayStation press conference. Since its launch in 1997, the critically-acclaimed masterpiece has spawned various spinoff games and animated films.įinal Fantasy 7 Remake retells the story of Cloud Strife, a former member of Shinra Electric Power Company’s elite military force called SOLDIER. Main Story Bosses ▼FF7 Remake Main Story BossesĮpisode INTERmission Bosses ▼FF7 Remake INTERmission Bossesįinal Fantasy 7 Remake Playable Demo Demo WalkthroughĪfter more than two decades since its original release on the PlayStation 1, Final Fantasy 7 has been completely re-imagined to harness the power of modern consoles. Main Story Walkthroughs Episode INTERmission Walkthroughs ▼FF7 Remake Episode INTERmission WalkthroughsĮpisode INTERmission Walkthroughs SidequestsĪll Mercenary Quests Chapter 3: Home Sweet Slum ▼FF7 Remake Chapter 3 Side QuestsĬhapter 8: Budding Bodyguard ▼FF7 Remake Chapter 8 Side QuestsĬhapter 9: The Town that Never Sleeps ▼FF7 Remake Chapter 9 Side QuestsĬhapter 14: In Search of Hope ▼FF7 Remake Chapter 14 Side Questsĭiscovery Requests ▼FF7 Remake Discovery Quests Main Story Walkthroughs ▼FF7 Remake Main Story WalkthroughsĬhapter 1: The Destruction of Mako Reactor 1
#FINAL FANTASY 7 REMAKE RELEASE DATE GAMEPLAY ARCHIVE#
News and Features Archive Intergrade Walkthrough and Guides Pre-release Information ▼FF7 Remake Intergrade Pre-release GuidesĮpisode INTERmission Walkthroughs ▼FF7 Remake Episode INTERmission WalkthroughsĮpisode INTERmission Characters ▼FF7 Remake Episode INTERmission Character GuidesĮpisode INTERmission Bosses ▼FF7 Remake Episode INTERmission BossesĮpisode INTERmission Strategy Guides ▼FF7 Remake Episode INTERmission Strategy Guidesįort Condor Unit Stats and Attributes Guide FF7 Remake Intergrade Game Editions (June 2, 2021).What Should We Expect from FF7 Remake Intergrade? (June 2, 2021).Get to Know Yuffie in Episode INTERmission (June 3, 2021).Bringing Back the Classic Mini Game Fort Condor (June 6, 2021).More New Characters in FF7 Remake Intergrade (June 7, 2021).Is Intergrade Coming to PS4? (June 8, 2021).FF7R Intergrade is a single-player, action role-playing game developed and published by Square Enix for the PlayStation 4 and PlayStation 5.
#FINAL FANTASY 7 REMAKE RELEASE DATE GAMEPLAY PLUS#
Final Fantasy VII Remake Intergrade (FF7 Remake: Intergrade) Walkthrough and Strategy Guide Page containing main storyline walkthroughs, side quests, boss guides, character guides, materia list, summon list, best weapons, strategy guides, tips and tricks, post-game unlockables, new game plus guide, game databases, cheats, tips and tricks, news and updates, and more.
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WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?
KIDDIE KAI (discovery +)
DESTINATION PARIS (Paramount +)
TEEN MOM: THE NEXT CHAPTER (MTV Canada) 8:00pm
QUEEN SUGAR (CTV Drama) 9:00pm
WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT
WHO REALLY KILLED MICHAEL JACKSON (FOX Feed)
GOOD BONES: RISKY BUSINESS (Premiering on September 11 on HGTV Canada at 9:00pm)
NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:
AMAZON PRIME CANADA
PETITE MAMAN
CRAVE TV
THE BOLD AND THE BEAUTIFUL (Episodes 231-235)
NETFLIX CANADA
BEE AND PUPPYCAT
GET SMART WITH MONEY
RODRIGO MARQUES: KING OF UNCOUTH
SHENG WANG: SWEET AND JUICY
UNTOLD: THE RACE OF THE CENTURY
U.S. OPEN TENNIS
(TSN/TSN4/TSN5) 12:00pm: Quarterfinals
(TSN/TSN4/TSN5) 7:00pm: Quarterfinals - Primetime
MLB BASEBALL
(SN1) 6:30pm: Red Sox vs. Rays
(SN) 7:00pm: Jays vs. Orioles
(SN Now) 7:00pm: Twins vs. Yankees
(SN1) 9:30pm: White Sox vs. Mariners
WNBA BASKETBALL
(TSN3) 8:00pm: Sky vs. Sun - Game 4
(TSN3) 10:00pm: Aces vs. Storm - Game 4
THE AMAZING RACE CANADA (CTV) 9:00pm: Racers jet off to Bathurst, N.B., where they must put their footwork to the test; some teams realize they might not be doing as well as they thought.
ALASKAN KILLER BIGFOOT (DTour) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): A sense of foreboding hangs in the air as the team arrives in Portlock.
#TextMeWhenYouGetHome (Lifetime Canada) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): The family of Kenia Monge share the agonizing details of what happened around the beautiful 19-year-old's disappearance; her father, sister and authorities explain how the texts in Kenia's cell phone were the impetus to finding her abductor.
PREACHING EVIL: A WIFE ON THE RUN WITH WARREN JEFFS (Lifetime Canada) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Warren Jeffs takes over as prophet of the FLDS, a small religious sect that practices polygamy, and names one of his many wives, Naomie, his personal scribe; she joins him on a quest to avoid interest from law enforcement regarding his deviances.
HEAD HIGH (APTN) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): After Southdown High School makes it into the elite Auckland 1A rugby tournament, their rivals from wealthy St. Isaac's College begin to play dirty.
PRIMAL SURVIVOR: MIGHTY MEKONG (Nat Geo Canada) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Hazen Audel begins an epic survival adventure high in the mountains of Laos.
#cdntv#cancon#canadian tv#canadian tv listings#the amazing race canada#head high#tennis#mlb baseball#wnba basketball
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Sweet Elite Chapter 8 (Karolina Route): Or in which Tyler finds out he's not my main route and stans it anyway...
#sweet elite#se karolina#karolina x scholar#se tyler#if tyler ships us let's get married already karol#sweet elite chapter 8#poetic cinema
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Damn. Kim! It should be a crime to be so beautiful x’ddd
If I was Darcy, I could never focus on classes with Dr. Kim 💘💘
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Sweet Elite Chapter 8
So I have finally finished playing the last chapter! You would think I’d hate playing a game where I’m in school when IRL college is kicking my ass, but to each their own, LOL.
Anyways, I finished playing it and though I found it enjoyable, I’m not all that sure I truly enjoyed it. I normally don’t make my own reviews of the game and just leave comments on ones posted by others, but I decided to post it because why not!
If you’re interested in a spoiler filled review, just click that “keep reading” below ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓
First off, I like to write my little fanfics for my enjoyment (I’ve never posted any of them, but I have them in existence via USB lol). I’m probably gonna reference what I’ve written for Tadashi’s arc for comparison, so don’t try looking for them!
When I play Sweet Elite, I also like to record my screen so I can keep track of my choices (and compare what happens to what I wrote). A single playthrough for the first time and this is the longest I’ve spent on a chapter, a whole 2 hours and a half! Not a bad thing of course considering it was a major arc and expected to be on the longer side. But I feel like for the length, I didn’t get much Love Interest interactions because you’re forced to spend fairly equal amount of time with everyone (I played on my Tadashi account first since I had the most AP on that one).
I shall start with things I liked about the chapter, which wasn’t much to be honest?
1 - Tadashi not knowing what the Grammy’s was is hilarious to me (and also kinda sad because that kinda shows how much of a childhood he lacked since the average person would at least know the name!). That whole interaction was nice to see since it showed TadAxel having a non-arguing conversation, but the “Granny’s” was a major highlight.
2 - Neha hinting once again that she might be a scholarship student (because mentioning that scholarship students don’t have to advertise that they’re one is a major thing to introduce and not expect me to run with). And I interpreted how she responded to Karolina supporting Tadashi despite the scandal more of her being a bit jealous because I can only imagine how she’d react if Neha actually is a scholarship student (though Tadashi becoming one himself might soften Karolina up into accepting that your parents’ money doesn’t make you almighty).
3 - Ellie just being Ellie. Lordy she’s adorably terrifying and those are the best short friends to have because they keep you on your toes (and are totally down to hunting for the obscure or raiding Area 451).
4 - Tyler basically being how I felt playing as Scholar because the whole “I’m not doing shit while everyone else is offering something major in their super-awesome ways” was easy to recognize with.
So my first complaint is the convoluted plan to get Tadashi proven innocent/uninvolved in Hiroshi’s yakuza crap. I get the whole lie to the dad to make him think he’s on his side thing since it would get him half of his money back. But what I envisioned in my head and wrote down centered around my Scholar recording the conversation between Tadashi and his dad (which Tadashi did himself, which still makes it a viable plot-point) and them using the script/email from the lawyer and the bank statements of his dad taking all of his money to show him as a victim?
The video idea wasn’t bad and was also something I wrote for my BCP Scholar fanfiction (she’s marketing and PR with her own little company managing social media accounts, so the idea and image control was her main addition to help out). So I don’t know if I’m just being my biased ass self and preferring my solution (release the proof of blackmail, show Tadashi is a victim, have Tegan hack Nakano Corp.’s CCTV/security footage to get timestamps of Tadashi not being present for mafia meetings, have him testify against his father).
None of what was shown in the video could have really proven any sort of innocence to be honest. Tadashi could’ve easily pulled whatever texts and emails he wanted, so unless he showed the one from the lawyer essentially extorting him to testify in his father’s favor, I don’t see how that on its own would have helped with anything.
Adding the recording to the beginning of the video during editing would have been something to warrant all the positive response to the video. I know the recording is used to try and force Nakahoe Senior into giving Tadashi the rest of his money, but it was also the only logical way to prove Tadashi was without a doubt a victim too (and Tegan could easily get the money back himself or there could have been something about the mom, which I’m gonna talk about later in this post).
IRL, people would point out that Tadashi could easily be lying through his teeth about not being involved. So that’s kind of a plot-hole since getting the public to see Tadashi in a positive light is important to getting the school board to let him stay (which was incredibly dumb to me because are you really gonna tell me there aren’t students at the school with openly corrupt/mafia/mob/gangster parents using dirty money to keep their children in attendance???) (yes, Jack, I’m talking about your ass).
I could understand forcing him to step down as student body president since Arlington has the position kinda Anime styled where the president is the face of the school and has an absurd amount of responsibility and power (as proven by Ellie’s story of the previous president and the fact that Tadashi can veto someone getting academic amnesty). Them removing him from office was something I expected (though my fanfic had him helping pick a replacement for the rest of the year since that’s how it was done at my old private school). But not wanting him to attend school even though his family could easily pay for his tuition was very out there to me. I suppose having someone with a negative reputation could reflect badly on a top school, but I’m pretty sure private schools need justifications to expel someone and expelling them based on their parents actions seems very illegal to me.
But anyways, the super computer plot to hack Nakahoe Senior’s information was also very weird to me. I justified it by telling myself Scholar is in a school of super rich, super intelligent teenagers, so maybe the most simple approach doesn’t come to mind (I know first hand that smart people have a tendency to overlook the simple solutions without meaning to). It makes sense to make their own computer to not be traced overall, but the purpose it was needed for didn’t make much sense in the grand scheme of things (because they didn’t really use the information they found, so what was the point of finding it other than being a hundred percent sure on Hiroshi being corrupt?).
And then while I was playing and listening to my commentary, I again was reminded about how confused I was that calling Hiroshi in jail and keeping him on the line long enough to trace the transaction was necessary? Because I don’t think that’s how that works? If it was to track his location, then maybe, but I don’t think Tegan would need Tadashi to keep Hiroshi on the line to trace a bank transaction or get into Hiroshi’s accounts (but that’s me being nitpicky I think).
Then what they found, IE the gibberish in the calendar descrambling to “Yakuza” was a major asspull while I was playing. I wondered why Nakahoe Senior, AKA the Inglorious Bastard and Chessmaster of the arc, would make it so obvious? Let alone actually put that in his planer... If there was a meeting every Friday evening, I figured introducing this would at least lead to something where Tegan finds a way to prove Tadashi wasn’t present or active even phone call wise because he could get the call logs too. Yeah, the emails are important, but wouldn’t footage or flights be better at proving he wasn’t there?
Then Tadashi’s mother, who was never truly introduced, but teased really. It was set up in a way that my fanfic had Nakahoe Senior threatening to setup Tadashi for the fall if she didn’t convince him to testify in Hiroshi’s favor because Alistair mentions how protective she normally is of Tadashi and even Tadashi says that his mom was frantic over the phone. So I don’t know, I was hoping for something with her since she was brought up.
But my major complaint about the story was that Scholar has little influence on what goes on. At first, I thought there would be options based on your Department and maybe your choices during the Department Competition (you pick your concentration during the presentation). Essentially, I was expecting to be asked to pick a task I would do best in (in this playthrough’s case, I expected to be able to help with PR because for the competition, I picked Sociology which is essential in marketing research).
I also expected something similar for others. Business would get to come up with a marketing and PR scheme, utilizing Axel, Karolina, and Neha. Performing Arts or Fine Arts would get to help edit and fine tune the video or make a smear campagne against Nakahoe Senior with Tyler and Raquel. Pure and Applied would get to code with Tegan or build with Ellie. Health Sciences (or any department because you’re Arlington’s Sweetheart) would get to work with Alistair (who knows Tadashi best) and Claire to make Tadashi’s script and showcase him to the world as a victim (which he really is in this situation).
But that didn’t happen. The only things Scholar really does is buy computer parts and talk to Claire and ask her to help Tadashi (and suggest Tadashi ask Neha for help too). Which was a major asspull because during that section before where the group is talking about who should help him write something from the heart, I was expecting (and super hyped for) Scholar to finally have the chance to be useful. They weren’t, not even for Tadashi’s campaigning since all that they did was talk to a few students (which I know is good for campaigning, but not really helpful in the grand scheme of things) (especially because by default, Scholar isn’t good at these things even if you’re in a department that’s necessary). I got really happy thinking Scholar would do anything that justifies them being involved as “human resources.”
Then being thanked for not really do anything but being the spectator and emotional support friend kinda bothered me. I’m all for that and sometimes you just need that one friend that’s good at being a support unit (AKA the mom). But even though Tadashi says that Scholar was his main inspiration to defy his parents, that’s not really helping him do that?
How was Scholar instrumental to anything going on? “Waste a couple hours finding pieces for a super computer, something anyone could search for because you can’t code or build things even if you’re in Pure and Applied,” “Go ask Claire to help Tadashi write his speech only for Tadashi to appear and ask her to himself because she would, by default, help anyways and you’re not good at writing a heartfelt speech (which Scholar technically isn’t, but should be if there were more options or at least acknowledged in this situation because why bring up the whole Arlington Sweetheart thing?),” “Get some rest, you deserve it even though you did absolutely nothing beside deliver the computer parts and suggest asking Neha to help.”
To be honest, Scholar may not be as static/pre-determined as most otome games, but Scholar doesn’t have much variety that actually impacts the story. What you’re good and bad at is already determined (like the essay and presentation; you’re automatically not good at it even if you’re Performing Arts or BCP and interested in things that, you know, require being able to give a good presentation).
I would prefer waiting longer to have more meaningful options than getting something quicker and not really being able to do much. Like during the competition where we eavesdrop on people and see the story unfold, that’s what this chapter pretty much was for me.
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Chapter 8 - Coming January 23rd
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Sweet Elite, Chapter 8 Illustrations
#sweet elite#illustration#chapter 8#se#illustrations#episode 8#karolina#neha#claire#alistair#tadashi#ellie#raquel#tyler#spoilers#se spoilers#spoiler
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