#we actually talked about this ages ago but i finally have somewhere to post it

[a9saga]

i mentioned this but my grandfather passed away last week. he was 95. my grandmother died in february of 2021 and it's really something that he made it that long without her at his age. they were married 69 years and had 7 children and 21 grandchildren, as well as 11 great grandchildren now with two more on the way. his wake was wednesday night and the memorial mass and burial were yesterday.

my auntie cindy married my dad's oldest brother i believe 50 years ago now. they were high school sweethearts. she knew my grandparents since she was a child, so did the rest of her family for that matter. my grandmother or sometimes my father used to mention a boy in the neighborhood who had unfortunately died very young of a drug overdose. no one outright told me this but i put together when i got older that that was cindy's brother. this is to say of all the in laws that cindy was well acquainted with my family for the longest time, and my family with hers as well.

some months after my grandmother's death, that spring or early summer, cindy had sent out a letter to everyone recalling growing up around my grandmother and marrying into the family, maintaining that relationship for decades. she mentioned something her brother used to say that my grandmother would often quote when cindy wasn't around. she closed the letter with, "i just wanted you to know that i loved your mother like she was my own," which i think was always very evident. cindy's own mother had passed away somewhere over a decade earlier. 4 or 5 years ago diana and i were over her house with our mother, cindy referred to a picture of her mother in the kitchen and said "i talk to her all the time." she's not religious, if that makes it any different. she and everyone else in my family were raised catholic but if you ever get on the topic with her, she thinks the bible and christianity and everything are a load of bullshit. but regardless she does speak to a picture of her mother, which i think is pretty interesting. but i digress.

at the wake, there was a line to the coffin with my grandfather in it. cindy's a sociable person. i got in line behind someone i didn't know. a lot of family friends showed up. cindy came and started chatting her up and she introduced me, and then she told me she'd gotten in line about 6 times but shied away from actually paying her final respects. i was like, wanna do it with me? and she did. so we kneeled before the coffin and she caressed the rosary in his hands, and when we got up i mentioned how much i appreciated her letter in 2021, and it took her by surprise. she said she had wanted to read it as a eulogy at her mother-in-law's funeral but she and my other aunt ended up in a bad argument around it. neither of them are perfect, to be clear. that's not why i'm making this post and i don't plan to elaborate on that.

but anyway, after the burial yesterday everyone went to lunch. i could tell all of my dad's siblings appreciated having each other after both of their parents have died. last weekend my dad and his brother that he's closest to went out to lunch because both my mom and aunt thought they needed it, i know first hand my dad has been very down in the dumps about everything. but anyway, after lunch yesterday when cindy was saying goodbye to me, she rubbed my chin and said "thank you, that was so sweet of you to bring up the letter about connie last night. do you know you had me crying on the way home?"--i don't think i have ever seen cindy cry.

#under a break bc it's just long as hell #i miss both of my grandparents #i am all right tho #also established at the wake/funeral i have long overdue hanging out with my cousin in boston to do #after everything i think everyone is at peace #i got my grandfather a '365 things to appreciate about being irish' calendar last christmas #i didn't anticipate he would remember to flip the pages every day #but i did have fun reading him weeks at a time when i visited him #i am not surprised he did not live to finish it but i kind of anticipated that nd that is okay #what a long couple of weeks #i was just numb and out of character since last monday but i finally got some overdue tears out yesterday #going that long without being ready to cry was scary and somewhat guilt inducing #shut up kaily

[rallamajoop]

okay I just have one confuse brain moment on your donna timeline. Saying she CAN'T have been born before x (was it 1997?) because of the gravestone?

Why not? am I missing something? I know the stone was Claudia's, I just don't see why that's the cutoff for Donna. Please explain to my poor hurting post-finals brain lol

Oh, Donna could well have been born before 1996. She just can’t have joined Miranda’s family (read: been experimented on and declared a success) before that year.

I talked about it all a lot more in my post about Donna's history, but in brief: Claudia’s gravestone is our big clue here, because we know it already existed when Donna was adopted by Miranda (the gardener's diary mentions Donna asking him to plant flowers on Claudia’s grave just a few days after her adoption was made official). And the gravestone gives Claudia’s year-of-death as 1996, so Donna’s adoption couldn’t have been before that year.

(I do think it’s possible the writers may have meant for Donna to have been part of Miranda’s family for much longer than that, only for some wires to get crossed somewhere between them and whoever made the asset for the gravestone - those kinds of minor mistakes happen in game development all the time. But for now, that gravestone is as canon as anything else we know about her.)

You can actually make a pretty good case that Donna might not have joined Miranda's family until as recently as 2017, depending what assumptions you make about the lifespan of her gardener(s) (more on that in the post linked above, if you're curious). And given she doesn't look much more than 20, it's entirely possible Donna wasn't born before 1996 - but that's a lot less clear-cut than whether she'd been adopted by Miranda back in '96, and really up to your own interpretation.

But now you've gone and got me thinking again... (always dangerous!)

So, suppose Donna wasn't born until after 9-year-old Claudia's death (since her gravestone also gives us her age). I raised a couple of possible theories about Donna and Claudia as sisters in my other post, and that's certainly still possible here. But a 9+ year gap and a tragic death between daughters could suggest Donna was pretty deliberately conceived as a replacement for dear-departed-Claudia (something like this actually happened in my family a couple of generations ago - I owe my grandmother's existence to the death of a sister she never even knew). And given all Donna's other anxieties, being raised in the shadow of a much-loved-and-missed ghost-sister could only make things that much worse for her - and it does have a certain thematic resonance with what Donna would become...

But that's Donna in a nutshell, isn't it? No answers, but so many tantalising possibilities!

#Donna Beneviento #Resident Evil Village #meta #Resident Evil

[terpernoctem]

well hi there

i think it's high time we bring the personal posts back, what do you think? yeah let's do this

not really sure how—

happy new year, i guess, for a start!

2024. *insert paul rudd gif* (you know the one) (i could do it, really) (insert it, i mean) (after all, this is the internet) (but i don't want to) (so just picture it in your mind's eye and pretend you can do telepathy) (perhaps you can) (thrilling, innit?)

anywayssss

it's the fucking year 2024, you guys. who can believe this. how??????

i don't know about you but i never even thought of 2024 before.

more than that—it's like, i never thought of myself growing past the age of, let's say 22.

i remember being a kid, like in high school, vaguely trying to shape out the contours of the person i wanted to be. i remember applying for law degrees. but it was so unserious—i don't even think i ever gave it serious thought. they said pick something to do and i was, and honestly still am, shit at science (which was, the big thing back then) and too lazy to think of anything else. in retrospect, maybe i would have liked that. law, i mean. maybe it would have given me some kind of purpose.

maybe my nervous break down would have happened two years earlier.

in senior year, i was briefly crushing on a guy who wanted to be a vet (at least that's what i imagined it was what he wanted to be—it's not like we ever talked about it so maybe i made it up completely). i visited paris that summer right before senior year (i was traveling alone with my mum for the first time) and i remember thinking like "oh yes, i will definitely come and live here, i guess" (and do what? watch that dude become a vet? bet.) and i could picture it, for like 5 seconds, but it was like watching something from above. i wasn't actually picturing myself living this life. it's like, i was a character in a movie.

meanwhile i didn't have the faintest idea what i would be doing with my life.

and i still don't! yayy

i kid you not

more than an entire decade went by and i still have got no clue what i want to be. worse: i honestly believe that i'm useless at most things.

last night i got a rejection email for a ny internship i applied to 3 months ago. it's not that i was surprised, but still. i think i still have these delusions that my life hasn't quite started, and that there's this great big thing that's going to come up and change everything for the better.

in a way, i think the reason why i took the last job i had is somewhere along these lines. such big hopes.

and all for what?

i'm writing these lines on my parents' couch. since november, i'm back in my teenage bedroom—the one where i brought the only boy i've ever loved all these years ago. it looks nothing like it did back then and yet, it's full of ghosts, no matter how thoroughly i cleanse it. everything in this town, everything on this island haunts me. my old life in europe feels like a distant dream.

pros: free food. not constantly worrying about my aging parents. cons: i'm never alone. but it's strangely okay. (i guess a decade of acute loneliness would do that.)

and yes, haunting aside, where else would i be? my mum has asked me a couple times: "what are you doing here, rotting away with your old parents? why don't you go and keep living your life?"

and boy oh boy, wouldn't you like to know? i sure would.

stay tuned, it's going to be a packed year—i'm (finally) going to get my driver's license in the next few months (never got to get around it before) and potentially, a sense of self.

#what's shakin' sugar

[imtherain]

Bucky Barnes Angst Drabble

Heyo

This is not only the first thing I have posted in over a year (other than reblogs) this is also my first drabble. I had this idea ages ago but wanted to make it story to post, but alas, I have not made it that far yet. So here it is.

Warning: Angst, minor dubcon allusions, long relationship, you were given as a “pet/plaything” to the Winter Soldier to satisfy his baser needs. It’s a drabble so there isn’t much detail on all that.

Anywho

So you were given to the Winter Soldier as a play thing/pet/toy whatever and you lived with him at hydra for ages. At first you hated him and hydra and everything but you took what he gave you cuz he was commanded and couldn't really do anything else. But eventually you started seeing the cracks in his cage and decided you liked him still. You didn't like what was happening but you liked that he was there. Maybe it's Stockholm-ish but whatever. Trauma bonded.  And he knows that every soft touch, every moan, while perhaps true enough, were still the caged bird singing and that if you were given your freedom, you'd never want to see him again. For a long time that's fine cuz he knows the both of you are never getting out alive.

Time passes and one day he sees you again. Your hair is shorter now or longer. You're smiling at someone, laughing. Oh god, has he ever heard you laugh? And he can't help but follow you, to see how you are. He doesn't dare talk to you, he doesn't deserve to and he doesn't want to disturb you. You left. Why would you want him back? But then the sun goes down and you walk home alone. You should be scared of the dark, but after all you've been through, the dark is a comfort. He follows you to your apartment, thinking he still hasn't been seen. But you spotted him ages ago. With your hand on the front door you turn towards the shadows that hide him and ask if he'd like to come in. He doesn't say anything as his form dissolves from the darkness but he follows you, as silent as the soldier you remembered from way back, into your home.

It's nice, warm. There's a lot of color. He wondered if you'd always liked color or if that was new. He thought about all the things he didn't know about you. All the things he should have asked when you were together. You give him warm tea and he holds it thinking about nights he held you for warmth. Neither of you speak for a long time. Maybe a small "how have you been?" "Good." But nothing more. You sit there looking at him and he's looking around your place. He has so many things he wants to say but no words to say them. He hadn't even told his therapist about you yet.

"You look good, Soldier," you break the silence at last. "I'm glad for that." And his eyes snap to yours. 

"I'm Bucky now," he tells you. You nod, sad smile. 

"Bucky," he can't help the way his heart aches to hear you say his name. His real name. He would give anything to hear it again. 

"And you're y/n, right?" He asks hopefully. 

"I changed it to (some other name) but yes, I'm y/n." And he nods because he understands. The silence falls again. He wants to reach out and touch you. To make sure you're real. He grips the cup until it cracks. You don't say anything while you watch the tea bleed across the counter.

"Are you happy?" Bucky asks at last. 

"Are you?" You counter. How could either of you be happy after what happened? How could you sleep alone when you'd spent so much of your life wrapped in him? How could you tell him that when he finally thawed out you were scared he wouldn't want you anymore? How you, surely, would only be a reminder of what had happened? 

How could he tell you he loved you?

So you sat in silence some more after cleaning up the tea.

The clock said midnight when he finally stood. You stood too, hopeful, but unsure what you were hoping for. He pauses as you both look at each other. 

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" You ask.

"I actually live on the other side of town," he admits. 

"Funny we ended up in the same place," you almost laugh. But your heart is aching for him too. He takes a step towards you and your eyes perk up. If you could just touch him, make sure he's alright...

"Do you have nightmares still?" He asked. You stop up short before you nod. "I do too." And for some reason that's all you needed to hear before you crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you did when he came back from long missions. But unlike all those times, his arms held you back and you could feel his breath in your hair and the longer you stayed like that, the more you were sure he was crying into your neck and you were crying too as you ran your fingers over his hair and shoulders and back.

"It's ok, it's ok," you shushed him. "I'm right here."  You tell him and he just holds you tighter and you're sure if he lets you go you'd both break into a million pieces.

You find yourself in bed with him, both clothed, but his hands are under your shirt. He did the same thing before, always searching for skin. You could feel him all over you as you cradled him to your chest.

When morning comes you're sure he'll be gone. That it was some sort of dream. But as the sun wakes you, he's still there, still wrapped around you as if he never wanted to let you go again. He looked so different in the morning light, soft, long lashes, plush lips. You wondered what it would be like to kiss Bucky instead of the Soldier. Your fingers trace his cheek and his eyes open slowly. When they register your face, he smiles. It was beautiful and soft and warm and it made you wonder ...

Had you ever seen him smile before?

[Masterlist]

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Drabble #angst #bucky angst #lack of pamcakes #imtherain #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine

[semiotomatics]

clouds' healthcare journey, pt. 2

so for anyone who remembers the post I made recently abt me chronicling my healthcare journey (which I ended up deleting in a fit of utter rage and despair a couple days ago, you'll understand why shortly), you'll be pleased to know I finally managed to get an appt at a local clinic on wednesday. if you wanna hear how it went, it's below the cut:

so I spent literally hours beforehand going over my symptoms, their triggers, the exact nature and severity of the pain they put me in, laying it all out on a timeline and rehearsing how I would explain it so that the dr would actually listen to me. I knew exactly what I wanted to ask/demand and what I wanted them to provide. I was shaking, I was so terrified, but I was also the tiniest bit hopeful. I felt so much more prepared than any other time I'd gone to see someone, I figured I had at least a chance of getting somewhere this time.

nope. I don't know that I've ever met a more dismissive, less sympathetic dr. I started out explaining about my recent injury and he immediately cut me off and asked if it was a work injury or not, and if so, if I reported it. I got flustered explaining that the injury was only part of the problem, that this has been a chronic issue for years, and he was like "oh, well you can only claim workers comp if it's a new injury". that's not?? what I asked?? but okay.

I tried to explain my situation but he barely let me get a word in. I mentioned I had pain in my lower back potentially caused by my scoliosis and he had me stand up and do a ROM test, then he did the scoliosis-check-by-feel and was like "who diagnosed you with it" and I was like "I have x-rays" and he was like "well it's very mild, also your ROM is fine" and I was like OKAY, ALSO NOT THE POINT OF MY VISIT.

so at this point I was getting v upset and flustered and thrown off track. we sit back down and he starts explaining how "back/foot pain is very normal, you're young, you need to exercise to prevent it" and starts talking abt physio. I cut him off and say "I've tried physio, it didn't help" which is an oversimplification tbf but I didn't want him to just refer me to physio and call it a day. then he explains "well it's not going to fix it you have to keep going" and I snapped at him (cause I was getting VERY upset by this point) "I don't want to have to go to physio for the rest of my life". also at some point, I don't remember where, he was like "also maybe lose some weight" at which point I just saw red.

holding back tears, I told him "this is not normal, I have been in debilitating pain almost every day of my life, I know other people my age and weight and they don't experience this, other people don't have to go to physio every week, something is wrong with me". he just kind of sighed and said "what do you want" and I said "I want to be tested I want to be diagnosed I want to find out what's wrong with me and I want to know if it can be fixed and how".

he started talking about how he can't just refer me to a specialist he has to do tests first, blah blah blah, and I was like "so do the tests!!" so he started writing a prescription? thingy for me to get x-rays and by that point, even though getting x-rays was one of my goals for the appt, I felt utterly defeated. I took the slip and barely said another word to him before I left.

I sobbed the entire walk home, and then I sobbed myself to sleep. I was being crushed by the weight of what, at the time, felt like an inevitability: that I would never get help, I would never be fixed, I would be in pain for the rest of my life and nobody would even believe me if I tried to explain it. the thought of having to fight tooth and nail just to have my pain be acknowledged was too much for me. I already had to fight my own anxiety, and our broken healthcare system, just to get an appointment, and all it ended up doing was traumatizing me even more. so what's the fucking point of even trying.

anyway, I feel marginally better now. I still have the referral for an x-ray that I do intend to go through with, though I'm desperately hoping I don't have to go back to that dr to discuss the results. luckily there's dozens of clinics around that I can go to, though hopefully it won't take dozens of appointments to find a dr who's sympathetic and competent at their job. it sucks absolute ass, but I'm not giving up yet. stay tuned next time for more thrilling adventures in the Canadian healthcare system!

#this has been an original post #personal spewage #clouds' healthcare journey #wish i hadnt deleted the first post but oh well #it was overly dramatic anyway

[antipolin]

After an article today about Banita Sandhu I see many online are again proposing she will be Sophie, but I have seen some Polins really trying to shoot that idea down and say she is just another debutante. However, I think that Banita has a significant role, and it is somehow most likely connected to the Bridgertons, and I think it is a high likelihood she could be Sophie (though I could be wrong).

My 'evidence':

On IG she was following (but then unfollowed) both Simone and Jonny, and she currently only follows two other cast members, Florence and Will, which makes me think most of her interactions could be with the Bridgertons. Yes, I realise this is a reach, but I am going with it as evidence. 😁

On her agents website she is listed as being a recurring character, which makes me believe that she is a bigger role than some debutante, a lot of the agents don't actually list if their clients are leads / main / recurring or other, and the only other one I could find as being a recurring character was the guy who played Prince Friedrich in season 1. Yes, I realise that her agent could put her as recurring even if she is only onscreen for a couple of seconds in more than one episode, but again I am going with it.

I think her character name is a red herring - it is listed as Sita Malhorta, which could be a code name for Sophie, or a bit of misdirection in the series for the viewer, basically they will be hiding her in plain sight. This could be a little too devious for the production, but until I am proved different I am going to believe that they are as devious as I would be. 😬

Finally, the magazine she is on the cover of. They mentioned about her going from Bollywood to Bridgerton Stardom, and even though there is apparently nothing in the interview about Bridgerton it makes me think that the magazine knows her role in Bridgerton and that it is - or could be - a breakout role for her.

Anyway, I was wondering your thoughts on it. Are you in the camp of Banita being Sophie, or do you think it is all a lot of clowning on the part of the fans who desperately want Sophie in season 3. Because we all know if she turns out to be season 3 then Polin is likely to be overshadowed by her as well as Kanthony (and baby Edmund) and Francesca and John.

I'm of the belief that if she were Sophie she wouldn't be able to talk about being in the show as openly as she has been overall, AT ALL.

It's a HIGHLY anticipated role and she was openly posting from the set while S3 was filming, etc.

If she were Sophie, I really don't think she'd be posting and talking about being part of the show like she is.

I also don't think Shonda would cast another Desi actress to be another love interest for a Bridgerton man. We already have Simone who is Desi. Shonda is always bragging about how 'diverse' her show is, so I think we'll be getting an Asian Sophie imo.

I had a theory ages ago (and I still kind of loosely hang onto it a bit) about Jemma Moore being Sophie b/c she follows the Bridgerton casting people on Instagram for some reason (or she was at one point), she at one point had a picture of Gus Gus (a popular Cinderella character) on her Instagram for no reason(?), on her instagram stories was talking about watching A Cinderella Story randomly, AND is currently being followed by Luke Thompson's talent agency when she's repped by a completely different agency. Also when I first followed her last summer, the suggestions to follow her (which I already was) were Julia Quinn and Bridgerton. (Like, seems weird that those were what the algorithm recommends to me)

I find that VERY odd. Especially the last bit. Why is the talent agency of Luke Thompson following an actress who already has an agent somewhere else?

Again, this is just my take re. the Banita thing and my Sophie casting theory. I have no idea what is true and what's not.

Banita is also like 10 years younger than Luke Thompson and IDK if they'll go that young for Sophie, 10 years is a pretty big age gap and honestly that weirds me out a bit for some reason so I hope she's not. Age gaps that big are weird for me.

#anon #asks #Sophie Beckett #theory

[eitherandor-blog]

Quiet

As the first of three children born to my parents, there was always going to be lots of emotion with the many ‘firsts’ I and we experienced together.  The drama increased as there were some complications in delivery, and then concern with the umbilical chord wrapped around my neck.  After what I’m sure seemed like an eternity for my parents, my parents were able to take me home.  In time, there were two more babies born into my family.

Since that eventful beginning, I had many more medical appointments and doctor visits.  Among these were dental visits, braces and their colorful rubber bands, physicals, shots and vaccines, and many, many therapy sessions.  If I remember correctly, because I was a minor, these and many other appointments were initiated and decided by my parents.

Once I turned eighteen, I got to figure out to do this all my self.  This included less frequent visits to dentists, physicals (typically when required by my work), doctor appointments when my immune system couldn’t rid me of what was happening, physical therapy aplenty, and more counseling therapy sessions.  In these moments, I alone made the decision to get the medical attention I received, that I thought my mind and/or body needed.

That has been and continues to be the reality.  I am responsible for myself, my body, and my healthcare.  Sometimes I lag in taking care of myself or just make dumb decisions (like the lingering back injury I suffered a few years ago..) but these are mine and mine alone.  There are times that I consult my partner, parents, and others, seeking a second opinion.  However ultimately, even with medical expertise and additional contributions from my network of people, I have the final say on all things Christopher.  I have a voice and choice.

...

I started this blog post a few years ago..and stopped.  I enjoy writing but it is something that can be all-consuming for me.  Part of my pause was due to the pandemic and life responsibilities pulling my time and energy elsewhere.  Then I wrote about other current events before getting to this, consciously or not.  I think it was also easy to shy away from talking about issues that seemingly do not personally affect me.  Not sure if those are mere excuses or leaning into my privilege as a cis white man [note: still figuring things out about my gender]. 

When I was a younger person, I did not understand biology or anatomy.  I’m not a scientist so I’m grateful for the medical people in my life and online resources to help when I have questions, because I still do.  Truthfully, there is still a lot I don’t get.  I have a general sense of my own body, know what feels good and doesn’t, and know what I enjoy receiving from others and what I don’t.  Without knowing the full spectrum of bodies and physical experiences, I know too that my body is different from some others.

Even as a child, somewhere in my maturation I learned that I would never be pregnant.  The concept was lost on me and did not emote any reaction at the time (positive or negative).  I knew I wanted to be a parent from an early age though I’m not sure I cared if I would be a biologic parent nor what would be involved (for me or another person) to actually get pregnant.  Sexual activity and intimacy with anyone did not happen in my life for a long time.  Similarly, most of the friends and family around me were not openly discussing these topics either, so pregnancy, abortion, and consent were limited to the occasional school lesson or exposure in media.  Limited to say the least.

The takeaway from all of this was that the human body- especially the “swimsuit area” - as well as sexual acts by myself or with others were not something to talk about.  It’s possible I was misinterpreting the cues from people around me but in general, this was not content to talk about openly with people- a message that I have still felt often as an adult.

There are a number of categories people are discouraged from talking about in public.  I remember being instructed in college not to talk about religion or politics when on a date and getting to know someone.  There was one memorable date where politics happened to come up and I spoke passionately about my beliefs.  I thought that the dinner date went well..and then was turned down for a second because they said their “beliefs are too important”  and different from my own.  Which is okay, not faulting or singling out this person.  

I feel like there has been a similar message communicated about abortion.  It’s not something we should talk about- regardless your viewpoint- as it is taboo and too “politically charged.”  But how do we avoid talking about something that is so common in our healthcare system and people’s livelihoods?  More than a month after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, I cannot stop thinking about reproductive justice.  I think I am in the minority who wants to talk through the ‘prickly’ points of life, externally process my trauma and others, or listen as someone emotes what they have endured or are their passions.  This includes hearing the ups and downs of pregnancy, attempts to be pregnant that don’t result in a baby, as well as decisions to end a pregnancy.

When it comes to pregnancy and abortion, I definitely seek to listen first (if not only listen rather than speak).  My experience as a (mostly) cis-het-man means that my interaction with pregnancy is always removed from the experience of a pregnant person.  So when I learned the critique of too many [cis] men making decisions about [cis] women’s bodies, I joined their chorus.  How could someone like me dictate what a person with a different gender or sex should be doing with their body?  Why should I- or any cis men- mandate that this person continue a pregnancy that they do not desire?

There’s a lot I agree with in this philosophy.  I learned a long time ago to de-center whiteness and strive not to make the community work I do about me.  Instead my training and re-education taught me to “meet the community where they are at” and show up ready to listen first and act later after being informed by the folks doing the work and follow their lead.  These are all good things.

Except what can get muddled in this is what becomes of my voice, my accountability, my agency.  Is it appropriate or helpful to have people of my identities silent, inactive, and passive?  Conflict and tension in the abortion debate will continue for quite some time (in no small part due to the white supremacist and patriarchal origins of and leadership in the country).  If I am merely an observer, I cannot be an accomplice, cannot effectively advocate for change, and cannot be invested in the wellbeing, autonomy, and rights of people with different bodies- and truthfully, rights- than my own.  

This does not mean I should be misinformed and speak without first consulting the wisdom of those who experience pregnancy and abortion personally.  It does not mean that I will ever have all the answers or fully grasp what it means to have these rights of one’s body subject to change at the whim of a political party or partisan court.  I cannot forget my privileges.  Nor do I need to take up space with my voice and presence if it prevents others from being seen and heard.

What is required though is involvement.  I am capable and willing to have these difficult conversations even if the environment is not tailored to it.  The message to first listen is still my method and I believe should be for all cis men.  However, what should be amended to this directive is to listen first, with reflective and incisive actions to follow.  It is vitally important that active listening precede any action I take- but that doesn’t mean action should be optional.

There are talking points folks will use to either encourage or discourage participation on a given issue.  I never liked the logic that because someone has a friend who is a person of color they cannot be racist.  Or the notion that people will only care about an issue if they are related to someone it affects: “what if it was your mother, your child,” etc.  Couldn’t we spin that in every direction: “what if it was you/your partner who needed an abortion and couldn’t receive one”?

When the argument and rationale are purely hypothetical, we have strayed from the people and human side of the conversation.  Our threshold for validating humanity, without question or ulterior motive, is incredibly low.  We all should care about each other and be invested in issues that affect one another simple because people are impacted.  Regarding the health, the life, the happiness of all those in the world- not just the people in our (COVID) bubbles.  

In contemplating action and our shared humanity, there is SO much more we can individually and collective be doing.  This writing has been a call to action for cis-het-men however these actions are possible and recommended for folks of all genders and identities.  This is not exhaustive but a place to place your energy and thoughts more constructively than limited to your bubble:

Have the tough conversations.  There may be some exceptions but I cannot think of a time change and equity occurred from avoiding the topic and being silent.  Not saying it is ever easy or is the right path for YOU.  If you are looking for how to talk about abortion, this mini-guide will hopefully help you get started: https://www.aclu.org/news/reproductive-freedom/your-mini-guide-to-discussing-abortion-rights-at-the-dinner-table

Support an abortion fund near you.  No matter what proximity you are to people who may get pregnant and want abortions, there are numerous abortion funds out there.  For anyone around Illinois, here are some where you can donate: https://www.aclu-il.org/en/support-abortion-funds. 

Share your abortion story.  Depending on your lived experience, abortion may loom largely in your life and maybe not.  One of the most challenging parts of abortion is how it is stigmatized.  So articulate your story and make space to listen to those from others.  You may not have had or physically ever need to have an abortion yourself, but that is also a story to share.

Challenge Patriarchy.  Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think the abortion discussion has anything to do with (cis) women or “unborn” children.  This is about (cis het) men, power, and control.   

Be a volunteer/driver/other accomplice.  The abortion itself is a medical procedure that requires training and care, however it is not the only chance to be involved and assist in a person’s abortion story.  Particularly in our partisan age and increasing obstacles, you can assist in ways big and small (in addition to the referenced financial support).  If you want to do more, do more.

Conversely if you are someone who is against abortion and identify as “pro life,” what actions are you taking to support people who may become pregnant or consider an abortion?  Because if all you do is try to force a pregnant person to keep a pregnancy and focus on their fetus rather than their wellbeing, that is not helpful, healthy, or humanizing.

As I have said before and will articulate again, abortion, pregnancy, and reproductive rights are not *just* a women’s issue.  Not to mention are they an issue for *all* women!  The advocacy of an unborn child and erasure of trans* lives is counterproductive: wishing for the life to come and denigrating the life that is present.  My writing here is not meant to dismiss the many people who can become pregnant that do not identify as cis women.  Instead it is to talk about how cis men can and should engage with this topic.

I cannot say I have spoken about it with too many other men- or people of any identity- but I wish I could have had the option to be pregnant.  Let me be clear: I recognize the infinite things I don’t know about pregnancy and for many, it is not something they would choose to be or do.  For me, there is a little heartache that I could not and will not every physically be carrying a baby.  That is less about choice for me and more to do with anatomy.  I also know that living in our patriarchy, there are so many privileges I enjoy and obstacles I avoid because I am a cis man who does not have to worry about my rights, options, or reproductive justice in the way those who can get pregnant do.  This is not lost on me.  If my body and life were different and I ever needed to get an abortion, I know I would not wait for someone’s permission to do what I needed to do for my body, my family, and my livelihood.  

My abortion story is a mirage.  Of dreams and nightmares, visions of a body different than my own and experiences I’ll never have.  I don’t really have an abortion story to share (1) because my body will never need one, and (2) it isn’t my story to share the bodies I know who have.  That is the case for other cisgender men: abortions are not something our bodies will ever decide or have.

To those same men, I implore you to consider your responsibility, your presence, and your livelihood in this moment in our world.  If you identify as “pro life,” I would LOVE to talk more about this with you, in hopes that we can further our friendship, talk across difference, and find at least some common ground.  If you identify as “pro choice,” I would love to talk to you too.  Because the issue of abortion, of choice, and bodily autonomy is not one we should shame or stigmatize because it is ubiquitous in our world.  Silence will not make abortions safer or reinstate rights that should never have been questioned in the first place.  

Do not shy away from this topic, no matter your politics, and strive instead to understand the full landscape of reproductive rights.  Contrary to how you were probably taught, listen first - not just on abortion - because we have lots of folks (women included) who are not waiting for men to save democracy and our world.  That being said, there are actions we can take to contribute to this cause.  Listening to and learning from others is not helpful if you remain passive in the face of violence and ridicule against pregnant people and those who may become pregnant.  For me I can promise you, I will not be quiet. 

...

[This blog is named after the song “Quiet” by MILCK.  I learned this from a Tiny Desk concert and every time I hear it am brought to tears.  It is a powerhouse song that unearths something emotional for me each time.  “Quiet” was an anthem for many during the Women’s March events of recent years.  I hope you enjoy listening and have your own experience with the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tl_Qfj8780M.]

[styledeficit]

6 June - 12 June weeknotes

Monday 6 June

I’m litter picking in the park and the water seeps through and soaks my toes. There’s a cluster of vans from UK Power Networks parked down the road. Big hello to the local DNO.

Tuesday 7 June

Couldn’t resist. Picked the ripest blackcurrant. It’s much too sharp and it tastes of the weather. I love it.

At the end of the day I look in the mirror. Forgot I had mascara on. The shadows I’ve made by rubbing my eyes makes it look like I’ve never slept a night in my life.

Wednesday 8 June

Train. Twitter scroll.

Swiss Miss refers to Jessica Hische’s comment about being so fed up with social media she’s thinking of quitting and starting a newsletter. Are newsletters temporarily overshadowing blogs or signalling the death of them? Later this week, I’ll get a newsletter that links to content in another newsletter. Is this the future of writing online? Oddly private, social in secret. RSS but not?

Tune in next week for more questions people have probably answered in essay form on a blog but I’m too lazy to Google.

Newish backpack on my back as I walk through the city. The sound of the fabric creasing and uncreasing somehow strikes a familiar beat. (Although a different mix). “The heat soared to one six three” bounces round my head all the way to Liverpool Street station.

I planted some cosmos seeds at the weekend. When I get home they’re at least an inch high. I don’t think they’d even broken ground yesterday.

Thursday 9 June

The sun rose at 4.44am today.

On the train, a man in my line of sight is asleep. His lips are moving constantly. Can’t tell if he’s speaking or chewing in his dream.

At 9am I meet R for coffee. I haven’t seen, or even spoken to him in roughly 10 years. It’s so nice to see him. We worked together for a bit, way back. I wish we’d worked together more.

A good day in the office. Someone on my team has transformed in the last month or so, from someone who used to make good suggestions and then put themselves down 2 seconds later, to someone who just makes good suggestions. I’d love to think it’s all because of the feedback I fretted over before delivering, but I think it’s a team effort.

Friday 10 June

The first and only walk to the wood this week. Big news! They’ve filled in the giant pothole.

I walk around the edge of the wood. The canopy above is so dense now it blocks out the sun. This is the same route I used to take before the sun was up.

The field which used to contain the sheep now seems to contain a cow’s bum. I keep looking over as I walk, wondering where its head is and why it isn’t moving. Can a cow die partially standing - is it resting on its front knees? Finally it flicks its tail and I guess its head and the remainder of its torso is somewhere buried in the tall grass. Relief all round. (Now I’m wondering, was its head actually stuck in a bear trap? No… No? No.)

It’s such a beautiful day.

We go to a gig in the evening. Holy Scum, the support, is so loud that afterwards someone asks “what are they really like? It was too loud to hear them.” J and I talk about other gigs we’ve seen where the sound quality was poor and also too loud. He says “remember Queens of the Stone Age at Brixton?” I say sort of. I remember it being loud, but also that I slept through fifty percent of it. I do remember them playing at The Underworld though. Tiny, sweaty, energetic gig. So tightly packed that when Nick Oliveri played the last song naked I didn’t even notice. (I’ve seen louder, heavier bands, but the sound quality of most gigs is better these days.)

Saturday 11 June

Sunny. Off to Brighton to see friends. The train is packed and I stand all the way. Check Twitter before I read my book and spot a mention of XCOM 2002. 20 years ago. I was on a panel, of sorts, no doubt saying something stupid or naive about b3ta. 

When I get home I’ll find unexpected post. The most beautiful quilt a friend has made and sent out of the blue. I still can’t believe it. How do we know each other? From b3ta, of course.

At the pub in Brighton I see someone from school. He said he did a postgrad course in multimedia years ago, picked up a ‘web design magazine’ and there was an interview with me. Those heady early days - I thought then I was the token woman (I was in more than one issue), but actually, better to have a woman than no woman, right? Better to try than not.

[duodusk]

i was talking to a friend about c!Sam and we realized that "Hero" from RW/BY is like the perfect song for his character

i could probably post all of the lyrics and they'd all work but it just feels like such a fitting song for him as the Warden

Take my hand I'm here to protect you Nothing will stop me Understand There's no sacrifice that I won't make I'll risk it all to keep you safe Trust me to be strong I'll be your hero, just hold on

I will fight For you no matter how I am despised Portrayed as cruel and heartless, I am might I am power, I'm due process, I will smite

Hearts and minds may not agree Emotions topple strategy You can't believe in honesty That your children can win a war

#dream smp #mcyt #dsmp #awesamdude #song rec #this is maybe gonna be the first of these I'm posting and its just me going through my dsmp inspired playlist and talking about it #but seriously like this feels so perfect for c!sam's decision to let c!tommy die rather than risk letting c!dream out #chefs kiss #we actually talked about this ages ago but i finally have somewhere to post it #ok also and Nevermore works really well for c!tommy and c!tubbo but i dont want to make like 20 rw/by music posts haha #i really dont want one to end up in that shows tag on accident #so ill just list some more #Fear ; Rising ; The Path to Isolation ; This Life Is Mine ; This Will Be The Day ; Time To Say Goodbye #my friend i talked to about this is a big fan of that show (im trying to avoid using the name just in case lol) so #we kinda went through one night listening to a bunch of songs and seeing which ones kinda had the same feeling as dsmp #since at the core there are a lot of similar themes? surprisingly? #ok anyway :)

[afanficworld-writes]

You’re actually real?

Pairing - Ben Chilwell x Reader

Summary - Ben finally gets the chance to introduce his very busy girlfriend to his teammates one night after training, although he’d heard it all from them in the changing rooms he never expected them to speak their thoughts in front of her. Cue embarrassed/shy Ben

Warnings - Fluff, shy!Ben, shy!Reader

Requested - Yes

A/N - So this is my first fic I’m posting and I’m super nervous, this was also my first request/suggestion and I thought the idea was super cute, thank you so much nonnie for your idea! Please let me know what you think of it like and reblogs are really appreciated, if this does well I could possibly do something about the campaign 🖤

I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere by anyone else, if you see my work posted somewhere other than on my accounts please let me know

W/C - 2311

To say life had been a little bit unsettled for Ben for a while now would be the understatement of the century, as a footballer his life was mostly on a strict schedule so he was used to having his routine and sticking to it and it had been pretty much the same since he left Leicester for London when he made the move to Chelsea.

3 months ago Ben had met what could only be called the girl of his dreams and his soulmate. He had been at the Nike offices discussing a possible future advertising campaign they wanted him to be a part of. Ben had been to plenty of meetings like this but this time when he was led into the boardroom with his entourage behind him he knew it would be different, he had this feeling he couldn't describe so while he didn't know exactly how it would differ to the countless others something in his gut told him this would be special.

Ben had always felt a little bit uncomfortable during these meetings, his team lining one side of the table and the brands advertising representatives on the other like how you see in the movies, most of the time they were talking about things that he just didn't understand, even though Nike were amazing at providing comforts such as food and drinks and always things that actually fit into his diet plan unlike some of the other brands he’d met with that provided pastries, biscuits and sugary drinks.

Being uncomfortable at this meeting in particular seemed to be more than worth it as something truly amazing happened, something that made him glad he’d given in to his manager and showed up to let Nike pitch their idea “are we ready to start?” Ben's manager asked, “sorry guys, we’re just waiting on the head of the campaign. There’s been a minor delay.”

Just as the middle aged man had finished his explanation of why they hadn't started, the door swung open and the most gorgeous woman Ben had ever seen in his life walked in and suddenly he knew this was the woman he was going to marry and have a family with, he couldn't explain how he knew he just did.

He quickly realised his jaw had physically dropped and his cheeks felt warm leading him to believe he was also blushing, throughout the meeting he had to actively make sure he was paying attention and not sat gawking at the beauty opposite him or god forbid started dribbling because he knew there was a chance of that happening.

The meeting couldn't have gone better. He loved the ideas they had for him and how this particular campaign would turn out, he knew this one wouldn't feel so much like work and would instead be an enjoyable few days of shooting and they even wanted to hear what ideas he had, the feeling he got from actively being able to participate in more of the behind the scenes things rather than just being the pretty face could only be described as euphoric. Trying to share his ideas and also keep a level voice wasn't easy but he wasn't going to embarrass himself in front of his team, the Nike team and especially not y/n.

Once everything had been finalised Ben felt relief wash over him not because the meeting was over -he was actually a little bit disappointed it had come to an end- but knowing that she would be a big part of the campaign because she was running it so he’d get plenty of chances to see her and work with her and he was more excited about that than the actual campaign itself.

If he thought too much about the power y/n held in her job it would start turning him on and he didn't want her thinking he was a pervert if he popped a hard on around her. Ben didn't know that was one of his kinks because for as many women as he was introduced to even those in a job of power, none of them held themselves like y/n did, none of them controlled the room like her but he'd be more than happy to explore that with her anytime, well that and just about anything she wanted too he was already putty for her.

During the campaign Ben struggled to hide his growing crush on y/n, since he’d learnt her name it had been on his mind, he may have even been guilty of saying her name with his own last name like he was a teenage girl but the thought made him giddy. Ben found himself blushing regularly and overthinking what he was saying so as not to embarrass himself, he became a major flirt, something that wasn't necessarily out of the norm for him but he never flirted with people he worked with.

By the time they wrapped the campaign he had managed to pluck up the courage to ask her out on a date, it was awkward and clumsy for the first few seconds but when he finally spit it out the nerves melted away and from there they got on like a house on fire.

That brings us to tonight, Ben had been back at training after, his injury and subsequent surgery although he wasn't doing anything close to what the others were he was working diligently with the physio that had been assigned to him to help him build his knee back up to what it had been before that disaster of a match.

Ben hadn't told the team immediately wanting to just immerse himself in getting know y/n and enjoy the early stages but a couple of days before his injury occurred he had told the boys in the changing room one day after training, all the boys started jumping around and cheering, engulfing him in a massive group hug truly happy for him.

All of the boys had tried to either set him up with someone or convince him to get back out into the dating world but after his last break up he wasn't feeling it, Ben had put so much into his last relationship only to have it backfire after what he thought were 2 amazing years with the press reporting with pictures his girlfriend snogging someone that definitely wasn't him outside of a very popular club in London.

What he hadn't expected was for y/n to get even busier than she had been at work, he knew that she had an amazing position at Nike but when someone was fired for trying to embezzle money she found herself being offered a promotion, one that after talking it over with Ben they both knew she just couldn't turn down. This meant she had spent a lot of time travelling to lots of different Nike offices and helping them with various advertising campaigns they were struggling with.

Between her travelling and the boys travelling for away games they were like passing ships in the night and he hadn't been able to introduce them, this meant the boys were sure that Ben had made her up to get them off his back and when he finally provided them with some pictures of her they said he couldn't get a girl like that and she was far too out of his league, Ben knew he was punching still having to pinch himself at points to convince himself he in fact hadn't dreamt this all up.

She had spent Christmas with her family and the plans they had to spend new years together with a few of they boys got cancelled due to Ben's surgery but today was the day, she was back in London and had the day off so was coming to pick him up from his recovery training and he was going to surprise her with meeting some of them.

Recovery training had finished a little bit before normal training so Ben knew he had time to get to her and bring her back into the lobby before they all left, saying goodbye to some of the staff he passed on his way out he finally made it out the door to see her parked almost right outside it.

The window was down on the driver's side so he stuck his head in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “hi gorgeous, how's your day been?” Ben's voice was soft and full of love. “It was good bubby, I caught up on some tv shows, but shouldn't I be asking you that?” Her voice was music to his ears after a long day.

“It was hard work but I'm making progress,'' Ben's voice held some excitement for the first time in a long time. Big smiles took over both of their faces. “Really? Bubby, I'm so proud of you, that's amazing,” y/n exclaimed, reaching out the window to hug him, giving him a massive kiss.

Time was running out so it was now or never, “come with me and meet some of the guys baby,” she looked so unsure like this was the biggest decision she'd ever make, “please gorgeous, they think I made you up.” He was almost begging her, he couldn't go another day of them nagging him about her.

“Ok, lets go,” y/n jumped out the car, Ben grabbed her hand as they walked back into the lobby, it wasn't long before the ruckus from some of the team could be heard, simultaneously they took a deep breath both of them preparing themselves for what was to come.

From the group multiple “aye, chilly” could be heard before they all came to a sudden stop in front of the pair, all of them going silent so Ben took this chance to make the introductions.

“Lads this is y/n, my very real girlfriend, y/n this is Mason, Christian, Kepa, Kai, Reece and Timo.” Ben motioned to each of them as he said their names, all of them had varying looks of disbelief on their faces.

“No way is she your girlfriend, how did you convince her to do this?” Christian asked, breaking the silence and Mason was quick to follow.

“Bro the pictures you showed us don't do her justice at all,” Mason told Ben with shock all over his face, the others were quick to join in making comments about how they had been so sure she had been made up.

Ben's face had turned bright red and he quickly buried it in y/n’s neck to hide it from everyone, leaving little butterfly kisses on the soft, sensitive skin, her hand quickly found his hair and she ran her fingers through it, lightly scratching at his scalp trying to comfort him, he really should have known that they would bring up the uncertainties they had voiced to him in front of her but in his excitement it hadn't crossed his mind.

Kai was quick to ask, “how can we be sure she really is your girlfriend and not some poor soul you made do this?” Ben did answer with any words but he was quick to softly grab y/n’s chin turning her face towards him and kissing her.

When the kiss broke y/n spoke up for the first time, “it’s nice to meet you all, Ben talks about you all the time and trust me this is very real.” Placing a soft kiss on Ben's jaw hoping to seal the deal for the boys that this was indeed a very real, very serious relationship.

“Well I dont think they could fake the looks they have, I mean Ben almost has actual heart eyes,” Recce told the boys before looking back at Ben and y/n, “it was nice meeting you y/n but I have to get home for dinner but I'll see you soon.” He gave them both hugs and left triggering the rest of the group to do the same.

Soon the lobby was quiet, “and then there was two,” Ben whispered into y/n’s ear before she turned into his body hugging him close. “That was ok wasn't it?” He asked, still unsure if he’d pushed too far.

Y/n sighed softly, “it was fine, they seem like great guys and I can't wait to get to know your friends a little better.” Those words meant a massive amount to Ben, he pulled her close and hugged her tight, pulling back to place a loving kiss on her lips hoping to tell her those three special words through his actions because they hadn’t yet said them outloud.

Footsteps pulled them apart as a voice called out, “ah this must be the famous y/n you've been telling me all about Ben,” Thomas’ voice called out into the silence, “I’m Thomas Tuchel, the man in charge around here and this man's boss.”

“It's nice to meet you, Thomas,” y/n replied but he too was quick to leave the building, probably ready to get home and relax for the night.

The pair stood for a second before Ben spoke up, “ready to go home, and snuggle in bed?” His eyes looked between y/n and the door. “Yeah, I'm thinking about doing that chicken pasta for dinner,” Ben's eyes lit up at those words, it was one of his favourite meals she made.

They both made their way out to the car joking and making plans for the evening, ready to soak each other in and make the most of the time they had together. Although both of them were guilty of letting their minds wander to the future and what that could look like, butterflies filled both of their stomachs at the pictures they were imagining.

#ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #football fics #football fanfiction #ben chilwell fluff #ben chilwell fanfic #you’re actually real #afanficworld-writes

[lemonlurkrr]

@aureateart​ ok. My favourite parts of twilight princess  (and some other random thoughts about TP sprinkled in there) taken from my monster TP word vomit google doc :

Link lmao

Ok but for real, I like this incarnation of Link :)

I love Ordon (it just seems like such a chill and cozy village)

ALSO love how easy it is to interpret Link as being a sort of older brother figure to the Ordon kiddos. It’s just,, super cute? AND GHHH nice nice good thanks nintendo for giving me characters to care about/characters that I can imagine Link caring about

He didn’t sign up for any of this (tbh, none of the Links really signed up for this jshdjsd). But I mean like, dude was just going to take a trip to castle town, drop a gift off for the royal family, and come back. But haHA oopsies he did get to castle town eventually but definitely not the way he expected hsjdhsd

He’s just a little dude?

AND FUCK. HE REALLY HAD NEVER BEEN OUTSIDE OF ORDON UNTIL ALL OF THAT

everything is new for the player AND Link

Midna

She’s cool :)

she really just

*teleports into your jail cell* hello whore.

I am no master at writing but AYYYY she do got a character arc!!!

She was actually pretty helpful sometimes, I ALWAYS checked in with her before turning to a game guide

Other NPCs

NICE

Love all of the TP character designs (ASHEI’S ARMOUR??? AOWOAOAOOAO)

Saving Zelda and all of Hyrule was important yea but thinking back maybe it was more like, the Ordonians and the kids were what was pushing Link to keep on going

I like the Resistance members :) Very video gamey of them to have one NPC assigned to each dungeon but hey!!! Kinda cool getting to see a little glimpse of each of em

Idk, it’s just fun to imagine Link popping into Telma’s bar after each dungeon and taking a little rest :) (or to celebrate? maybe just chat, idk, give this man some downtime!!)

Honestly it was just kind of nice that Link wasn’t entirely alone. I mean, I know Midna was there the whole time, but I am always for giving Link a big group of friends (see my love for hyrule warriors, age of calamity, and LU LMAO)

Hero’s shade, very very cool, kinda sad he died with regrets but HEY. He got to pass on his knowledge eventually

AND the connection to OoT?? AND assumed to be related by blood too????? GOOD SHIT

Ilia, I REALLY really wanted to like her (er, it’s not like I dislike her, she’s just,,, kinda there for me).

It definitely seems like Nintendo was pushing to make her the romantic interest, but GHHHHH they really threw that out of the window for me by having her lose her memories

I saw a text post a while ago that said it would have been interesting if Ilia was Link’s sister instead and YES!! That would have been cool too :0

Wish we got to know Zelda a little more

I feel like we barely know anything about her

Idk man, like I said earlier, I never really had any sort of drive to save Zelda during my playthroughs

She obviously knows Midna, so maybe if they gave us just a little bit more of that relationship I’d be more interested in her?

TP WORLD BUILDINGGGG

Botw has good world building too, but each race felt kinda,,, isolated? I absolutely love the different architecture and vibe each town has (and all the the weapons too) but ghhh yea everyone felt so separated. As far as I can remember, we don’t see tooo much of the races interacting with each other? Now that I’m typing that out maybe that’s to be expected because of the calamity but KLSJDKJFD ANYWAYS THIS IS ABOUT TP

The world feels nice and alive, love how populated everything is

Castle town I like castle town a lot, it feels dense and busy and I really like how you can’t talk to every NPC you see

Very cool very fun that we got to see the Gorons hanging out in multiple spots

kinda wish we got to see the Zoras a little more (I guess they are a bit limited since they need water but GHHHH the tp zoras are so prebby,,)

BUT HEY, I do remember seeing a zora or two hanging out in the hot springs around death mountain after beating the lakebed temple (I think, might have been a different dungeon) 

but aaaa would have been nice to see them in at least a couple of other places. I think it would have really added to the “congrats Link!! You’re restoring peace to Hyrule” feeling you get from seeing the Gorons hanging out in Kakariko and Castle Town

ORDON

Love how chill it is and how it’s kind of separate from Hyrule proper

They really do seem to be doing their own thing apart from the rest of Hyrule

Just kinda adds onto the “he’s just a regular dude minding his own business” kind of vibes I get from TP Link

Also I like Ordona :)

THE LIGHT SPIRITS,,

Love their design

And love how they’re not exactly like a pure white?

Different spirit representing each aspect of the triforce my beloved

But yes hi I think Ordona is very cool

Who are you, how did you get here, which goddess do you represent? Do you even represent one of the three golden goddesses? Do the Ordonians know about you? Have any of them ever SEEN you??? Do they worship you? Does anybody even know about the existence of the light spirits?? FUCK so many questions but ghhh I like how they broke the status quo a bit by throwing in a fourth spirit :)

I feel like this one is kinda weird but I like that voice sample they used in the light spirit music. It’s spooky and pretty at the same time :)  

cutscenes mmmmm

Ok ok, the spooky lanayru cutscene is very good

BUT THE “Link, Chosen Hero! Lend us the last of your power!” CUTSCENE MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM LOVE IT SO MUCH

IT just

Idk man

It just hit different

I like the music

And seeing the light spirits swimming around in the light juice water whatever it is

Summoning the light arrows?

AND HHHHH “Lend us the last of your power!” THIS IS IT. This is the final battle.

Seeing Zelda bow down, and then Link putting his hand out 👌👌👌

Link: ok bud, let’s do this together :)

Connection to OoT (did I already mention this? Maybe., Whatever)

Very cool nintendo :)

I love seeing connections between all the diff zelda games.

Because like, on one hand, they’re all separate from each other because of yknow, individual hero stuff. BUT ALSO, they’re all connected because of the reincarnation stuff

Grrrr walking through the sacred grove and going “The Hero of Time walked around here a long time ago” FUCK THATS SO COOL

Is the Hero’s Shade watching me? What does he think of me? DIsappointed? Proud? The Hero of Time went through HELL so this timeline didn’t have to deal with any of the shit Ganon was gonna pull with the triforce, better not fuck this UP Link!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Midlink is cute

Kinda hurts that she smashed the mirror but that was probably so Nintendo didn’t have to worry about people going “but what about the twili??????” for any of the other games LMAO

BUT ALSO LIKE SKJDKLJFJ There are some pretty massive plot holes in TP anyway so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ whatever it’s fine we’ll just use this for angst because GOD do y’all like angst

So is Shadlink

Honestly don’t know where this ship came from but it’s cute so whatever

THE MUSIC??

Love Midna’s theme and how they referenced the dark world theme from ALttP (I remember trying to learn the dark world theme on the piano and doing the Leonardo DiCaprio point meme at the little jingle I recognized from Midna’s theme)

Hyrule field theme SLAPS.

Apparently references a couple of the other over-world themes from the previous zelda games (I got this from 8-bit Music theory’s video on the over-world zelda themes, he talks about TP at around 11:40 but def recommend watching the whole video if you’re into music analysis stuff)

So there’s this bit of the Hyrule Field theme, I don’t know the official name for it but I remember seeing somewhere it being called the “at an advantage theme” since yeah, you hear it during the boss music whenever you expose their weak points. FUCKINGGG LOVE THAT. Didn’t notice it during my first playthrough, but hearing it during my second was like a little easter egg for my ears every time :)

Midna’s lament is very pretty (and fun to play on the piano)

COURAGE THEME.

I didn’t care for it too much when I started playing the game but hearing it in ZREO’s arrangement of the Hyrule Field theme literally makes me turn into a puddle of emotions. Also hearing it around and of the Ordon kids (I think it plays after Link saves Colin) AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Orchestra piece #1 and #2 HOLY SHIT???????????????? 

Literally, the first time I listened to those I just,,,, plugged in my headphones, volume 100, layed on the floor/against my desk and silently vibed. I don’t know what the hell it is, but those two just fit so well with TP?? I still avoid listening to them nowadays cause if I DO I definitely will get overwhelmed with the “god I love this game so FUCKING MUCH” kind of feels.

Wolf link sucks at singing

the first time I heard him howling Zelda’s Lullaby I lost my shit because LKSJLDKSGLKJFSKG god that was.,, Bad. Anyways, hearing him howl some of the songs from OoT was cute :)

TP STAFF ROLL??? 

VERY GOOD. IT’s like 10 minutes long and GOD do I love every single second of it. It doesn’t have the same energy as the skyward sword staff roll or the orchestra pieces but GOD does it hit good??

Nice and calm after that big exciting adventure. Maybe it would have been more fun or emotional to have a higher energy piece but it was really nice getting to sit back and watch the camera fly around Hyrule. Seeing like, the Gorons and the Zoras having a good time, the kids returning to Ordon? GOOD SHIT.

and AAAAA that end, when you hear the main Zelda theme and see Link riding off out of Faron woods on Epona… good shit. It gets you thinking, where the hell is he going? What is he doing? Off ot do more adventuring? Going to help out the resistance or something? Going to help Zelda? Or maybe he’s trying to figure out a way to restore the mirror of twilight? Whoooo knows.

hhHHHHhhh it’s just that final reminder that YES!!! YOU JUST PLAYED A ZELDA GAME. JUST ANOTHER STORY APART OF THE WHOLE EPIC OF THE ZELDA SERIES AS A WHOLE

I also want to acknowledge the instrument/samples they used for all the twili stuff.

They’re all just so unique and contrast SO well with the rest of the TP OST. LIKE FUCK!! Anytime I hear the screech from the Twilit Kargarok? Sends a shiver down my spine. I associate those sounds SO strongly with the twili realm. (Like, the same way you associate the BSHEWW VVWWMMM sounds with light sabers)

I love it so god damn much

literally any time there’s a certain sound or motif associated with something I lose my shit

Sacred grove sacred grove sacred gro-

lovely lovely lovely so much fun playing that on the piano. AND again, I did the Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme when I heard the theme from the lost woods come in GHHHHHHHH

shoutout to TP Faron Woods for helping me study and get through all of my schoolwork

BLEGUUHHH can you tell that I really love music?

and also yea I guess TP is kinda cool too :\

IF YOU READ ALL OF THAT THANKS I GUESS

#lemonspeakrr #LEMON SPEAKS 2K WORDS ABOUT TWILIGHT PRINCESS BECAUSE THEY ARE INSANE.

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

#nct #nct au #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct imagines #nct dream #nct dream au #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #lee jeno #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno au #lee jeno scenarios #lee jeno angst #lee jeno imagines #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno smut #jeno #jeno x reader #jeno au #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fluff

[adlbeay]

I wanted to talk about the themes in the Walk in the Dust event. The story of Arknights has always had a high level of thematic consistency, but it’s especially prominent in this event. I feel like a lot of the discussion of the story in certain places comes down to “lore” and surface-level plot details, so I wanted to get this out there somewhere.

The two big ideas that are covered in Walk in the Dust are that of revenge and the homeland. Let's talk about revenge first. Long post and story spoilers under the cut.

In the beginning, we are introduced to Elliot, aka Passenger, who by the time we meet him, is an aimless husk of a man. He is utterly empty inside despite being the most powerful figure in the Reefsteep black  market, with vast wealth and political influence under his thumb. Having completed his decades-long quest to slay everyone who was involved in betraying his teacher, he has no more goals for his life. After killing  the Lord Ameer of Ibut, the last of his targets, he realizes that the revenge he had been pursuing was ultimately empty, that the weapons he built and the schemes he engineered to that end no longer moved him. Even the death of the Lord Ameer didn't matter one bit in the political landscape of Sargon.

As for the Sargon army... We live in different times now. The ruling  Padishahs simply care not about what is happening here in this barren  wasteland. My guess is that it matters not to them whether it's the  father or the son that's in charge. Actually, to tell the truth, it  hardly matters to me either.

Ultimately, no one cared if the Lord Ameer was murdered or simply  died in an accident, not even Elliot himself. Sargon continues to be exploited by the Columbian military and the ruling Lords. Professor Thorne remains dead. His research, once entrusted to Elliot to prevent  it from becoming a weapon of war, has nonetheless been used by Elliot  himself to bring even more death. Now, 22 years later, Passenger sees  finding Kal'tsit as his only path to salvation, so that she can once  again give him a purpose like she did when she rescued him the first time.

Folinic's mom, Lillia, also shares the same kind of story. Her husband was killed in Chernobog when the count decided to purge the researchers working on the sarcophagus device. Among the children of the families broken up by this incident are Lyudmila (later Crownslayer), Alex and Misha (later Skullshatterer), and Luisa (later Folinic). Lillia finds Kal'tsit after months of searching, intending to take revenge on  Grand Duke Vanya not just for her husband, but also for Luisa, who never got to know her father because of it. Kal'tsit tries to talk her out of  it, even during the final phases of the plan, but Lillia's mind is set.  She entrusts Kal'tsit with taking care of both Luisa and Lyudmila, as  she knows she won't be able to come back to live a normal life after  this. And... she succeeds. Although it is Kal'tsit who ultimately administered the poison, their plan works flawlessly and Duke Vanya is finally dead.

Except it still ended up being completely meaningless. The Grand Duke was in a glorified nursing home already near the end of his life, and if Kal'tsit didn't kill him then some other conspirator from the Ursus  political backstage would have done it anyway. He was already crippled and blind, and as we find out during the confrontation with the Emperor's Blade, even Kal'tsit only agreed to Lillia's plan because it  defused the conspiracies of other powerful figures who would have used  the Duke's death to spark another rebellion. The only thing that Lillia ended up accomplishing was making sure that Louisa would grow up without both a mother and a father, and Lyudmila would never get the answers she really wanted about her family's death. And, although she ended up not doing it, she was even also planning to go back to Chernobog to kill  Sergei, Alex and Misha's father, for his betrayal.

And this carries on through the future outside the event. Crownslayer ends up joining Reunion because she thinks it will give her the answers  she wants and avenge her father. Folinic almost lets her anger at Atro's death get her into a confrontation with Wolumonde. In the end, Crownslayer is stopped by Kal'tsit and Folinic is calmed down by  Suzuran, but we might be able to imagine what would have happened if  they managed to carry out their vengeance.

The theme of homeland is one that's intrinsically tied to Kal'tsit and has at least a bit of relation to the broader story outside of the event. It's harder to talk about since it's not clearly  split into individual stories like previously, but there's at least one character that exemplifies this theme the most: Old Isin.

Old Isin is appropriately to his name, old as rocks. He remembers being a servant to some lord of a long-lost city that very few even know once existed, and spends his time telling fortunes while trying to seek out people who, like him, also share that past. According to Kal'tsit, the city's people were scattered when it was destroyed, and now only Isin even remembers the origin of the name "Reefsteep". Even then, Isin only has vague memories, and believes it to be his unforgivable sin that  he has forgotten so much about the city.

Old Isin originally helps Kal'tsit and Elliot because he hopes that  she can help him remember about the lost city, and thus absolve his  "unforgivable sin". And Kal'tsit indeed does help him. Isin begins to recall the conquests of armies a thousand years ago, something even with  his age he should not have been a part of, much less remembered.  Kal'tsit dispels the illusions clouding his memory, and reveals that  what Isin remembers is only the stories that the padishah recounted to  him, that the glory of his old city was only a memory of another memory. In truth, the city in Old Isin's memory was merely a stepping stone for the padishah's ambition to conquer the uncharted deserts, and was abandoned just as easily when that campaign failed. His homeland's glory was just an illusion created in his mind by the padishah's charisma.

Which brings us to the Emperor's Blade. Wherever he stands is the dominion of the Empire of Ursus. Whatever he does carries out the Ursus Emperor's will. Or at least, that's how the Royal Guards imagine themselves, single-handedly carrying out their homeland's legacy. Kal'tsit lays it out clearly:

Kal'tsit: Tell me, what does the current Ursus Emperor think of the Pine Valley affair? Or do you mean to tell me the seeds of that uprising, the origins of the crisis were all the will of the Emperor? Feel free to keep deceiving yourself, but the truth is the young emperor is unaware of the events that transpired there. You believe he has no  need to know. You... all of you seek a bygone era. You are just caught up in the former emperor's grand vision!

As does Patriot in Chapter 8:

Patriot: I fought with your fathers. Your strength and tactical acumen are no less impressive than theirs. But you look at the Ursus of those times with rose-colored glasses. What you see is nothing more than your wild fantasies.

The Royal Guards are described in not too unclear words as soldiers  who probably believed too much of their own grandiose affect. They are unparalleled fighters, to be sure, but it isn't hard to infer that those words about executing Ursus's will and each Royal Guard being his own nation are words intended to strike fear into their enemies rather than  statements of any real truth. Indeed, if you know anything about the internal politics of Ursus, the idea of "Ursus's own will" can be seen as more of a nostalgia at a bygone era when Ursus was, or at least seemed, united in conquest under the previous Emperor. The perceived glory of their homeland is what motivates the Emperor's Blade, but like with Old Isin, the truth behind it is shaky at best.

We also have the contrast between the retired veteran at Pine Valley  and Grand Duke Vanya. While talking to Witte, the veteran cuts off one of his own fingers, claiming that the scars he has suffered in Ursus's wars, once considered symbols of his glory and honor, were ultimately meaningless, and he wants this self-inflicted wound to be his only legacy to Ursus. At the same time, the Grand Duke is postulating about how the seeds he had sown in the winter would give birth to beautiful flowers. Even though his actions and the crimes he committed never bore fruition, he is convinced even in death that Ursus's soil will bloom.

The issue of a real or imagined homeland, and its loss, is also  shared by the Sarkaz as a whole not only in this story but in the main story and many other events. It's even arguable that Rhodes Island's mission to help the Infected was originally inherited from Babel's goal of establishing a stable homeland for the Sarkaz. After all, as pointed  out in many places, the Infected and Sarkaz share much of the same discrimination.

Sarkaz Mercenary: Home...? How could us devils... us Infected possibly have one... Kal'tsit: The Sarkaz have tried to rebuild 'Kazdel', their home for centuries, though they have never succeeded. Everyone has a different idea as to what the term 'homeland' means, but as it stands right now,  Kazdel is perhaps as close as you can get to the term's original meaning.

And in Twilight of Wolumonde:

Armed Infected: We’re going home? To what home?

Mudrock: Kazdel. There may be no place for Sarkaz outside of Kazdel.  But in Kazdel, there is a place for you. Not because of tolerance. But because there is... nothing there. Kazdel... is where the homeless go. A land of rootless people.

So what does all this have to do with Kal'tsit?

In the ending cutscene, Passenger asks Kal'tsit whether this "Rhodes  Island" is yet another passing persona to be used to accomplish a goal and discarded when it's complete. Like the persona of the Trusted  Advisor, or the Servant, or the Laterano Cleric, will she abandon Rhodes  Island as well? Kal'tsit initially puts up a front saying he has no  right to ask, then bluffs about having thousands of answers, but is pushed by Passenger saying he'll even accept a lie. In one of the only times we get to see Kal'tsit faltering, she actually has no answer to this.

Unlike the other characters we see throughout the story, Kal'tsit has no homeland. No matter how fake or illusory it is, Old Isin and the Royal Guard have something to believe about a place where they can belong. The nobles in Victoria, as incompetent as they appear from the outside, are dedicated to defending the peace of their home despite having no ruler. Even the ostracized Sarkaz can ultimately go back to Kazdel, as unpleasant as that might be. But while Kal'tsit wanders the earth to keep the homelands of others from falling into chaos, she has no homeland of her own to go back to.

In one of the trailers for Chapter 9, we hear a recording from Theresa, addressed to Kal'tsit: "I hope this Rhodes Island can be a place to call home, a place you can always return to."

#arknights #arknights spoilers #kal'tsit

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay Chapter 4: Breach

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat

Chapter Warnings: Angst; Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse; Betrayal; Lies; F!Reader’s Age Kind of Finalized; Specific Reference to Age; Blackmail; Crying; Slight Panic Attack; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: Even the truth can’t set you free.

Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3

Notes: And we’re back to pain. My outline got derailed for this chapter so bear with me, sometimes revelations need to be hammered in. No smut here for now but I also needed to get this arc finished so I can start on the next.

Also I know I keep jumping forward — I swear I will write about their relationship growing.

Thank you all for reading and commenting! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, even if you’re yelling at me.

Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

The air is…

Shifted.

Shifted enough that the whole office notices, avoids yours, avoids the glare Steve Rogers fires at them the moment they approach the door, avoids your eye. Shifted enough that you miss the before, the pressure of his presence demanding your attention, the smugness in his endless eyes you denied looking at.

Shifted.

Counsel.

What?

We need to talk.

Is that not what you’ve been avoiding doing all morning, Captain?

You swear you can hear his molar crack in the dead silence, but your eyes never flit upwards from the contract you’re poring through, red pen in hand.

Focus.

It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it, the presence of him, the pressure of him. It’s a job, and he calls on you to do your duty and you do but no one has ever asked you to be kind and no one has ever asked you to smile as you bear it so you don’t.

It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it.

You. Are a part of it.

Counsel.

It’s a bark, an order, an annoyance and you shouldn’t let his stubborn fury be the thing that derails you. This is your domain. Your palace of glass and steel, remember? New York buzzes behind you and you surge forward on the tightrope of his affections, teetering dangerously close to his temper and always, always daring him to pull you down.

Try it again.

Fine, with a sigh and a setting down of your papers, You’re closer to the door.

And in your defense, he is, seated on your couch as stiff as a board, scrolling through his phone on occasion and — previously, at least — deftly ignoring your inquiries about the status of his office and why he needs to spend his morning in yours.

He fixes you with a look you do not name and proceeds to stand anyways. The door clicks shut and stays that way — both of you have learned.

Do you still talk to him?

Excuse me?

The Senator. Are. You. Still. In. Contact.

He spreads out every word like an accusation and every word turns you a little colder. You’ve been avoiding this. Avoiding him, distracted by work, the both of you but now you are back in each other’s orbits and this…

This cannot be avoided.

I haven’t spoken to him beyond to tell him I returned home safe that night.

Not. For lack of wanting.

If he’s hurt you, just say the words.

There’s nothing you can say.

It’s been a week. Almost two.

He’s been kind, stayed away, kept his distance but that… that will not last. Only as long as whatever conference has his office busy and then you know what comes next and then you know what comes after.

The bruising may have faded but the memories remain, after all.

They always do.

Steve Rogers is not Andy Barber, is not warm-eyed concern or a soft-voiced invitation, is not trying to save you from the horrors you cannot name, is not to be trusted but Andy Barber is also not Steve Rogers, is not exactly the man you expect, is not the answer to your dilemma, is not the devil you know and you…

Are still testing your wings.

Get up.

Get up and walk away from the prison of your desk, see how far you can get before you shackle yourself to your own ambition. Get. Up.

Blue eyes watch you like he’s calculating the next angle of his attack and technically you know that’s exactly the case but let’s pretend a moment he doesn’t have his claws out and you aren’t trapped in a cage for him to batter.

Delude yourself into the power you think you have, and keep him there, across the room where he cannot show you how effortlessly he strips you of it and how deeply you enjoy it.

Don’t.

You may be in bed with the mob but you are not asleep to his crimes and this is just an interim, a plan, a moment.

You stood me up, Counsel. After we made our deal.

It was a week ago and you ever-so-kindly taught me my lesson — don’t wince as you speak, don’t let him know you remember, don’t let him think you actually learned from his hand, hard against your body.

He hasn’t since, after all.

He says your name.

He says your name and your blood runs cold and you freeze by the coffee machine you keep in your office and you turn. Senator Barber is a friend.

A dangerous friend. I won’t even ask if you know his stance on —

On the Syndicate? Oh I know. I know who he shakes hands with.

Then you know why I’m asking.

Are you loyal?

Are you?

Is it loyalty that keeps you here?

Don’t let your hands shake when you look at him. Don’t let him see the slide of your eyes, the glance outside, the wondering how long before your window would be a portal and that tightrope would snap.

You are not a fool.

This. Is not loyalty.

I keep to my ethical duties, Captain.

You’re sleeping with your boss.

Oh that one makes you laugh, sharp and cruel and you do look at him then, fix your eyes onto him and raise an eyebrow and watch. All that power, all that smugness, wrapped up in one body and how does he contain it, do you know?

I believe the actual term is serving at your pleasure.

It’s back to the game, the dance, the ruse, the steps you take around each other, the blades he digs into your chest the reminders he gives you you are a whore you are a whore you are a whore and you lift your chin up, dare him to look at the bruises his lips leave on your skin and ask him in the silence and what will you do about it.

You could hate him. You do, technically. You hate that you could love him in the early hours of the morning, when his eyes seek you out and soften at the reminder you’re still here. You hate that his invasive presence in your office is a shield as much as it is a virus, a comfort in the silence and you hate most of all that the way he looks at you with that open desire women might normally have just dreamed was possible makes you want to return it.

You hate that he is dangerous. That he has bound you to him like this, chained you to the idea of his warmth and that there is a sick sort of safety in the binding.

You hate that he looks at you now with something like hope, with something like obsession, with something like vulnerability and you hate that it strips you of that cold armor as effortlessly as his hands strip you of your resistance.

And he could hate you too, in the whispers he leaves on your shoulders when he thinks you’re asleep. He could hate that you are soft, that you are sweet on his tongue that you…

Are his.

Could hate that he has thought of nothing else but the very theory of your betrayal and you know none of these things but his eyes are not so inscrutable as he thinks and so—

He twists the knife.

I talked to your Judge, by the way.

You did what?

You heard me. Interesting conversation.

Excuse me?

You really sold yourself to me for a lover’s spat, Counsel? I thought you were better than that — woman of the law and all.

A lover’s spat? That’s what he told you?

Just what would you call it, if not that?

He’s daring you, back to somewhere between smug and angry, as if disappointed you made him waste his time and all you can do is feel your heart sinking, feel yourself back in that place again, the decade-long sting of control over your body, the painful reminder of the girl you once were.

Where is he?

Did you think I’d clean up your dirty laundry for you? I’m not a breakup counselor, and you nee—

You left him alive!? The panic in your voice is so palpable it stops him in his tracks all over again, suspicious and surprised and you step back to reach for something — steady yourself steady yourself steady yourself you are not safe you are not safe you are not safe.

I’m not killing your ex-boyfriend without a good reas—

I was nineteen!

The world tilts, shifts, your knees are buckling, that’s tears in your eyes and you.

Are that girl again.

Too small, too scared, too naive to know better, too easy to mold and break and manipulate and you promised you’d never be her again, you promised you’d get her justice and you promised it wouldn’t be like this over and over again, promised he wouldn’t sink his fangs into you a third time.

What? He sounds smaller. Or is it faraway? You are too busy trying to stand, trying to still the shaking of your hands, the cold chill in your veins, too busy feeling your knees surrendering, too busy sliding to the floor and staring blankly into your memory.

Counsel. What. Did. You. Say. He repeats himself, and then he’s crouching before you, holding your chin in his hand and when did you start having tears on your cheeks for him to wipe away?

I was nineteen, you repeat, blank and broken, not seeing his brow furrow, not seeing the regret flash over his expression, I didn’t want it. I never wanted it.

What are you saying, sweetness? How dare he sound so soft? How dare he sound like he actually cares, when he’s the reason you’re here, on this floor, barely resisting your breakdown yet again?

You know better.

I was nineteen, a third time, I needed a job, something to give me experience, and he — he used me. That was my experience.

He’s starting to understand, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when you’re staring too far into the past, into a sneering face and cruel hands.

(I can ruin you or I can help you, Intern, so you make your choice. You need me.)

It never stops. Not after the first time — but you know that.

But you know that. That’s your knife, the one you twist into his chest and the realization sinks in heavy as an anchor, the thing he’s done.

The thing he’s done to you.

So why wait until now?

I would have waited forever.

You hid the letter. Hid it well enough even he wouldn’t have found it rifling through your things. Hid the threat in those typewritten words and the casual signature swept across the stationary, unaffected.

Men like him never face consequences. Only you, only the women they make use of, the ones they turn into commodities for their enjoyment. Who would care if you’d made it public, if you showed the world the kind of man he was — he was appointed for life, he was friends with the Governor, he was powerful and you were never going to be strong enough.

(You wouldn’t want anyone in the District Attorney’s office knowing just the sorts of things you’re willing to do to get your way. I can still help you be an exceptional lawyer, Intern.)

What are you? Ambition and drive and skill but what does it all mean when it can be reduced to plaything and pet project and whore.

I helped him get appointed. He helped me get into law school. Introduced me to… To Andy Barber, who calls you Sunshine and watches out for you and comes to New York despite having no power in the state just to see you again because he worries, because he cares.

You pay.

And sometimes that payment bounces back.

You pay and you pay and you pay and you struggle but what is the culmination of your strife is it the sight of you finally broken on the floor, is it the moment he’s been waiting for, dragged off your pedestal why couldn’t he have left well enough alone didn’t he know the horse was for your protection and not his pride?

No.

They never do.

They never do, do they, always so wrapped up in themselves and even now he kneels in front of you and wipes your tears but he has no words to say to atone for what he’s done and you know he can never.

I need you to leave.

The words come out without your control.

You know what you are. You are fury made flesh and you will not be manipulated again, not by the pressure of his hands on your face, not by the way he almost hugs you, he lied he lied he lied he lied.

Sweetness…

No. You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.

You could have tolerated it. You could have accepted it you could have let yourself become the prize he took, owned his defeat by defeating you, you might even have enjoyed it but no.

No.

I held up my end of the bargain.

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #mob!au #political!au #dark!fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #dark!steve rogers #angst #series #mob!steve rogers x reader #i really am gonna die here

[ragingbookdragon]

All Secrets Come Out In Good Time

A Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: I wrote this a long ass time ago, but never posted it to Tumblr, so here's an actual new story! Enjoy! -Thorne

She wondered what life would’ve been like for her had she never signed her contract with Wayne Enterprises. Maybe living retired and off the savings of her modeling career, sipping margaritas at the local beach bar without a care in the world? She huffed as she poured another glass of wine thinking, probably not sitting on my couch with a broken heart. The feelings still lingered, churning slowly into bitterness that made her feel ashamed.

She knew how busy his life was, especially with his nightly activities. But somewhere deep down, she wanted him to give her the real reason behind their departure, instead of the “It’s not you, it’s me” bullshit line he’d given her. Still, the reality of it was thrown in her face, and here she was on her couch, drowning her sorrows in wine he’d bought her.

Her mind lingered on the memories of them, and with those memories, came the questions. Did he actually love her? Did he love her the way she loved him? Did any of the time they shared in those two years mean anything? It did to her—she loved him. Hell, she loved his children like they were her own too.

Something warm fell on her hand and she looked down, seeing a droplet of water resting on the back of it. She blinked and her vision blurred as more tears began to fall from her eyes. Her hands moved to her face, wiping furiously, but no matter how many times she did, they kept falling, and she found herself falling deeper into heartbreak.

***Two Years Earlier***

She stepped into the ballroom, taking note of the eyes that immediately found her; she paid them no mind as she made her way deeper into the crowds, occasionally greeting her fellow models and higher-ups. The crowd seemed to part for her as she passed, making her feel like royalty, and she flashed them the million-watt smile she had perfected so long ago.

A few moments later, a warm hand brushed her arm and she looked up, seeing her employer smiling at her; she gave him one in return. “It’s good to see you, (Y/N). You look gorgeous.”

She hummed, feeling her cheeks warm at the compliment he’d given her. “Thank you, Mister Wayne.” She ran a hand down the silk fabric of the shimmering, black gown. “The dress is the new one the company has been designing.”

He eyed her dress and quipped, “Then it’s good that we had you model it for us.” He leaned in, his smile turning flirtatious. “You look absolutely beautiful in it.”

(Y/N) looked away, a bashful smile crossing her lips. “Mister Wayne, you’re just flattering me.”

He hummed, a small chuckle passing from him. “Maybe…is it working?”

She glanced back at him and after a second, she nodded. “It is.”

“Wonderful.” He motioned to her. “May I escort you around? I didn’t see you come in with anyone.”

(Y/N) nodded, watching as his arm fit around her waist, and she felt his hand brush her hip. They walked around, greeting the other socialites, when a pair made their presence known in front of them.

“Mister Wayne! Sir! It’s good to see you at the party.”

(Y/N) could feel his hand tense ever-so-slightly, and she saw him flash a fake smile. “Well Henry, this is my party.” The man laughed, and his wife smiled at (Y/N); she could feel the loathing from her spot.

“You’re that new model that just signed with Mister Wayne, aren’t you, Miss…”

She bit the inside of her cheek and smiled as she nodded. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). And yes, I am.”

The woman eyed her before quipping humorlessly, “I didn’t know they let…older women model in the company.”

The insult practically smacked (Y/N) across the face and before she could stop it, she bit out, “And I didn’t know they let bitter old harpies with pathetic grudges into parties that were meant for companies that weren’t in bankruptcy.”

The woman’s jaw went slack at her response, and the man beside her stepped forward. “How dare you speak to my wife like that?! How dare you assume our company is in debt?!”

(Y/N) simply blinked as she stared at him. “Because it is, Mister Brighton.” She gathered her thoughts. “Your company has lost more in the past six months than it has since it’s decline in the early nineties. Your best bet would be to try and get Mister Wayne to make a deal that would save your company.”

She glowered at the older couple, her voice hardening as she declared, “Don’t let my age fool you. I might be older than many of the models Wayne Enterprises hires, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain. I’ll have you know I graduated valedictorian at my high school and my university. I’ve modeled all my life. Wayne Enterprises started a line for women in my age group and I was offered a job. Do I need to explain anything else to you? Or have your behaviors been apparent enough?”

The two of them stuttered out responses before they excused themselves, shuffling away as fast as they could. (Y/N) watched them as they left, then her eyes moved to the man still beside her.

Her eyes widened in shock as she realized he was still there. “Oh my. You—I—oh dear.” She blinked as she tried to apologize to him. “I am so sorry, Mister Wayne. I—I just got—”

“Carried away in the absolute decimation of someone who insulted you?” She paused at his words, taking in the sight of the grin working its way on his face. “I have to say, seeing you shove that back in their face was…pretty entertaining(Y/N).”

She huffed a laugh at his words, shaking her head. “You’re something else, Mister Wayne.”

He grinned, tightening his grip on her waist. “I find I’m just enough for what’s needed.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted with an arched brow.

He winked. “I am.”

“I’ll take your word for it then.” She replied jokingly.

***A Few Months Later***

“You know, I never actually expected you to fly us to the Swiss Alps.” She turned around from the large window, watching as he reclined on the couch.

“And why didn’t you expect me to?”

She shrugged as she walked around the couch, leaning over the back, and wrapping her arms around his neck; she rested her chin on his shoulder and turned her face to him. “Dunno…just kinda mentioned it offhandedly. I never thought you’d take me so seriously, Bruce.”

He smiled at her response, turning his head so they were face to face. “I take everythingseriously, (Y/N).”

She nodded. “That you do.” (Y/N) leaned forward, pressing her lips to his lightly, then she rested her forehead against his. They stared at one another until she whispered, “I love you.”

He blinked, obviously shocked at her open admittance, but he soon recovered, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek as he replied, “I love you too, (Y/N).” She smiled at him, then pressed her face into his neck; he chuckled at her. “Embarrassed?”

“Oh,shut up…it’s not every day you tell the man you love that you love him, and he does the same.”

There was a moment of silence, then she felt her body being tugged, and she realized he was pulling her over the side of the couch. She tumbled into his lap, and his arms wound around her waist, pulling her close. (Y/N) relaxed against him, then she felt his lips press light kisses into her neck. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, and she felt his lips stop.

As they moved away, he asked, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

She turned and looked at him, feeling her heart flutter in her chest. “I’m just really glad that you and I are here…together.”

Bruce smiled down at her, cupping her cheek. “Me too.”

***A Year Later***

She opened the door, seeing him stand on the other side; she smiled at him and gestured him in. “You know, when I gave you the key, Bruce, I meant for you to use it.” She expected a laugh from him, but none came, and she tipped her head to the side. “Are you alright? You look tense.”

He nodded, taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack. “I’m fine…just thinking, (Y/N).”

“Is it anything you want to talk about?”

He paused, meeting her eyes, then they drifted to the table, and he saw the dinner she’d prepared for them. “After dinner.”

(Y/N) wanted to keep the conversation, but she decided against it, and nodded. “Alright then.” She wrapped an arm around his and led him into the kitchen. “Since you called on short notice, I assumed you had something important to tell me, so…” She motioned to the food. “I made your favorite.”

A small smile graced his lips and he looked at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She nodded, grabbing the bottle of wine as she watched him sit. “Of course, Bruce. I love to spoil you.”

***

The dinner went smoothly, and they each told the other about their day, then moved the conversation into the living room. (Y/N) sat on the couch beside him, resting her wine glass on her thigh as she watched him.

She hummed at his silence. “Kinda quiet over there…are you sure everything’s alright?”

He looked at his hands, then let out a sigh, and (Y/N) held her breath, waiting for him to finally tell her the secret she’d known for the longest time. It had been by chance that she’d learned his secret identity, and everyone would say blame it on Dick, who saw her and immediately said, “Hey it’s mom!”. Quite the running joke between his kids, who had essentially bonded with her over the year and a half that Bruce and she had been dating. She made them promise not to tell Bruce about her knowing, her telling them “It’s not our secret to tell, it’s his. And I need to hear it from him when he’s ready.”.

(Y/N) thought back to that time, and reached out a hand, taking his gently as she murmured, “Whatever you need to tell me, I’m listening Bruce. And I won’t judge you.”

He sighed once more, pulling his hand away and reaching into his pocket; he pulled something out and held it out, saying, “I think I should give this back to you.”

(Y/N) eyes moved to the item in his hand, and she felt her breath leave her lungs at the sight of the silver key in between his fingers. “I…I don’t understand?”

He shut his mouth, putting the key on the coffee table beside them as he said, “It’s not anything you’ve done, (Y/N). I just think we need to see other people.”

She blinked, not understanding where it was coming from. “But I…I thought…” (Y/N) couldn’t form the words she needed to tell him, and he rose from the couch.

“I think I should go.”

She jumped up, following him. “You can’t just leave, Bruce! You can’t just leave it like this!”

He stopped as he grabbed his jacket, turning to her. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your sorry! I want your real reason!”

“I gave you—”

She cut him off, scoffing, “Oh, that’s a load of bullshit and we bothknow it!” (Y/N) stepped forward, winding her hands in his shirt. “We’ve been dating for almost two years. You can’t look at me and tell me that we need to see other people. There’s something going on.”

“Just talk to me. Talk to me, Bruce,” she pled with him.

His hands rose from his side and he gently took hers in his, removing them from his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked, too stunned to even say a word as he apologized once more and left her standing in the entrance of her apartment, alone and heartbroken.

***Present***

He pulled off the cowl and sank into the chair in front of the Batcomputer; a bottle of water appeared in his view and he took it, looking up at Alfred. “Thanks Alfred.”

The butler nodded, handing out the other bottles to everyone around them. A joke between them made them laugh, and he watched them, a small smile crossing his lips.

He watched Jason nudge Dick and nod to him. “Is hell freezing over, or is the old man actually smiling at us?” The others looked over and he watched eyebrows raise in slight surprise.

It irked him, and he quipped, “Just because I don’t smile often doesn’t mean I can’t smile.”

“Are you sure? Kinda looks like your face is cracking over there, B.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at Dick’s comment, and he stood up, stretching his arms over his head as he made his way to the lockers. They followed, and each began peeling off their suits and pulling on after clothes.

“You know what would be good right now?” They looked at Jason who was sitting on the bench. “(Y/N)’s apple pie and homemade sea salt vanilla ice-cream.”

They groaned at his words and Dick looked over at Bruce, who wore a clouded expression. “We never did get the real reason why you ended things with her.” He paused, looking at his brothers. “We liked her. Even Damian did.”

Damian nodded at this and turned to Bruce. “Why did you leave her, father? She was the only tolerable woman you’ve ever brought to the manor.”

Jason reached over and riffled his youngest brother’s hair. “That’s because she didn’t take any of your shit two-bit. She acted like a mom when it came to you.” Damian batted Jason’s hand away, glaring at him; Jason turned to Bruce. “Answer the question, old man. Why’d you run (Y/N) off?”

Bruce sighed, sitting down on the bench, knowing he wasn’t getting out of it; he motioned around him. “Look at what we do. I couldn’t tell her about this. She would’ve run for the hills had I told her.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. “So, your choice was to break up with her to keep her sane and safe?” Bruce nodded.

Tim stepped forward, his gaze shifting between the others before turning to back to his father. “Bruce, I don’t know if you know this…but (Y/N) already knows what we do.”

Bruce’s eyes went wide, and he looked up at Tim in shock. “What?”

Tim nodded, motioning to Dick. “Dick accidently called her ‘mom’ one night when we saw her, and she put two and two together.”

Bruce blinked at the revelation; he’d never in a million years assume that she’d learned their secret early. “She…never said anything…”

“That’s because she was waiting for you to tell her,” Jason remarked with a smart-ass glare.

“She…was?”

The others stared expectingly at him and Damian said, “She told us that it was your right to tell her and yours alone.” He paused, looking at him. “You should go to her and apologize.”

Bruce stared at them before nodding and rising from his seat. “I probably should.”

They grinned, following him out when a slightly unnerved Alfred came to them. “Master Bruce…you need to come at once.”

“What’s wrong?”

Alfred motioned up the stairs. “It’s Miss (Y/N). She’s here…and she’s…inebriated.”

Jason barked a laugh, but quickly shut his mouth at the feeling of Dick’s elbow in his side, and they watched Bruce run up the steps to her. They followed, of course, and stuck their heads out of the doorway to see the conversation because they were nosey as hell—though it’s not like they didn’t learn that from their father. Bruce walked over to her, holding out his hands to try and balance her as she wobbled.

She slapped his hands away from her, a glare in her eyes. “Don’t touch me. I can handle myself.” He frowned, lowering his hands and she pointed at him. “I don’t make habits of talking to my exes, but I need to have a conversation with you.” He nodded and she poked his chest. “I want the real reason you dumped me.”

(Y/N) paused, lowering her head as she breathed to herself, “Oh my god, I sound like a crazy ex-girlfriend.” Bruce snorted and she whipped her head up, glowering, “That wasn’t supposed to be funny to you, Mister Wayne.” He shut his mouth and she poked his chest again. “I’ve been waiting patiently for the past two years, waiting for you to tell me your secret, and the night that you tell me we need to talk, I think you’re going to, then you dump me and tell me we need to see other people.”

She grunted at him. “I know you’re Batman and whatever reason you dumped me was a crock of shit and I want the real one. Now.” (Y/N) glared at him until he sighed and nodded, taking her hand, and leading her into the study. On the way, she saw the boys and she waved at them. “Hi boys! I’m sorry I’m in a rare form right now.”

They simply grinned and waved back as they watched them enter the cave. Bruce led her down the steps, at one point having to carry her because she couldn’t take so many close steps.

When they arrived, she stared at it in shock. “I…knew you were him…but…” She twirled around, feeling his hands steadying her as she did. “But it’s so much realer in person.”

Bruce nodded, looking at the cave. “It is, isn’t it.”

(Y/N) turned to him, a heart wrenching look on her face. “Is this the real reason you left me?” He nodded silently and she asked, “Why?”

A moment of silence passed before he sighed and said, “The lives we live are dangerous, (Y/N)…and I…I just didn’t want you to get caught up in all of it.”

She stared at him before quipping, “Duly noted and while I appreciate the sentiment, that wasn’t your decision to make.” She took his hand. “A relationship is based on two people not just one.”

He nodded again and they lapsed into silence until he looked at her and questioned, “Did you really get drunk and come over here to get me to tell you that?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat before pulling back her hand and turning around. “Everyone needs a bit of liquid courage every now and then to face what’s weighing on them.” She glanced at him. “I don’t take half-ass answers from anyone. Not even you.” (Y/N) nodded at him and started making her way to the stairs when she felt him grab her hand again; she turned and looked at him, seeing a hopeful look on his face.

“Stay with me?” he asked.

She grunted at him. “We aren’t dating anymore, remember? You broke up with me like a textbook rich boyfriend does.”

Bruce stopped to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulled her close. “What if I apologize for it?”

She went silent for a second, drawing circles in his chest with her finger, then she looked at him and murmured, “You’re going to have to give me a hell of a night in order to apologize for this. Maybe…behave and do everything I tell you?”

A smirk wound his lips and he flirted, “I think I can manage that.” (Y/N) hummed at him, and he raised a hand, cupping her cheek. “But I think right now, youshould get some sleep before we have it.”

“Hmm…darn shame, I was really looking forward to not walking for a week.” She paused and looked at him. “Does this mean we’re dating again?”

Bruce nodded. “If you’ll have me. I know it’s difficult to be around all of us.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t think anyone sane could really hold their own in your family.” She paused. “Remember the first time I came over? Damian made me play chess with him.” She waved her hands around. “I still don’t even know how to play chess!” Bruce laughed as he helped her up the stairs. “Bruce, I don’t know how to play chess.”

“I know, darling.”

“I beat him at it.”

“I know you did, darling. He’s still bitter about it.”

“He is?”

“Of course, he is. He’s a perfectionist.”

(Y/N) grinned as she nudged him. “So are you.”

Bruce stopped moving and gazed at her. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She nodded at his apology. “Sorry for coming to your house wine-drunk and demanding a reason for our breakup.”

“Don’t worry…you’re not the first who’s done so.”

“Bruce Wayne!”

He laughed at her shock, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I was joking, (Y/N).”

She grunted as he led her into the study. “You’d better be.” (Y/N) waved at the boys who were still in the room. “Hi boys! Bye boys!”

They wore amused grins and waved at her as they walked to his bedroom. Bruce helped her out of her clothes and into a t-shirt of his and they crawled into the bed, her curled up on his chest, his arms wound tightly around her.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

“I know.”

“I missed it.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

There was a moment of silence then he murmured, “I love you, (Y/N).” He expected a reply, but when he received none, he looked down, seeing her asleep. Bruce huffed a quiet laugh before pressing a kiss to her temple and reaching over to turn out the lamp.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader imagines #bruce wayne x reader imagine #bruce wayne imagines #bruce wayne imagine #batman x reader #batman x reader imagines #batman x reader imagine #batman imagines #batman imagine #batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #dc #dc imagines

[afro-hispwriter]

ALICIA CLARK X FEM DIXON READER

After Ricks disappearance (twd) and Fixing the plane era(ftwd)

F/I- first initial

Warnings- language, implied smut

a/n- i wrote this a long time ago, its been posted on on wattpad for a while so i decided to post it on here… Enjoy!

Rick was gone, things were falling apart. Your dad, Daryl left the communities to join search parties all the way until he was the last one searching. Michonne and you wanted to keep looking but her pregnancy was to far along, and you basically took care of her and Judith. The atmosphere feels familiar just like when Carl died, you and him were best friends, you supported him in every one of this decisions even helped him get with Enid.

But this felt worse.

The person who has made sure everybody survives is dead. The man who was a mentor to you, the man who saved your father in countless occasions is dead. Morgan left almost 2 years ago and nobody heard from him. You knew Rick and him were close, he helped Rick when he came out of hospital. He deserves to know what happened and you will make sure of it.

-

"I want to go out and see the world for myself and I want to find Morgan." You said at dinner to Michonne and surprisingly who joined your dad.

"Excuse me what, you want to leave a whole state and travel to Texas just to see the world and find Morgan and for what?" Asked Michonne raising an eyebrow. Your dad sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"I agree kid. Why?" He asked looking at you.

"Ok first I'm pretty sure I'm 18, I'm supposed to be enrolling for college planning out my life, seeing what else is out there. I can take of myself of the time I have been surging in this world I can make it I'm sure if it. And second all of us know how much Rick meant to Morgan, I can go to Texas and tell him what happened maybe he will even come back even if it's for a little bit." You said enthusiastically. The adults shook their heads taking in the information.

"I'll think about it." Said your dad and Michonne nodded going back to eating.

"There's gotta be another reason you wanna leave." Said Daryl as you walked to your home.

"I already said why Dad." You said looking ahead

"No, you didn't I know ma own kid." He said stopping and he grabbed your arm so you would stop as well making you roll your eyes.

"I hate the atmosphere that is going on, it's like when Carl died but worse and I hate it. I just need to go, I need fresh air Dad, i need to see whats out there maybe even help people." You said throwing your arms in the air looking up at the sky. Daryl smiled, you would always talk about helping people when you were just 4 years old. But now that the apocalypse happened he never thought he'd actually have to let you be on your own anytime soon, maybe it was time.

"Alrigh I'll talk to Michonne tomorrow, I'll get ya that trip." He said and you smiled before pulling him into a big hug.

"Thank you father." You said and he chuckled.

-

"Ok y/n, ya have a high range walkie(i know those don't exist for very long distances)for when you get farther and farther away from ere and you have food to last a month or so and water for a week or two. And gas in the car to last Ya couple miles at least to get out of Virginia. A map, a gun with 2 rounds, and please try to put notes or something out there to tell me your alive, please I don't want to go out lookin for ya. Cant loose you kid." Said your dad who it was clear was very nervous on letting you leave.

"I'll be fine dad, I have been taught from the best of the best." You said and then you saw his eyes water.

"No, no dad don't cry because then I will. We have to be strong i promise I'll be fine. We agreed on 2 months if I'm gone more than that or if you don't hear from me when those months come to an end you come looking for me." You said holding back the tears.

"I know kid, I know it's just ya growin to fast." He said looking at you.

"Fuck it come ere kid." He said and pulled you in for a tight hug. You hugged him back hard, soaking up his affection, which definitely doesn't come everyday. You pulled away and looked up at him.

"I'll be fine dad ok, I'll be back." You said and backed up, everybody stood around and you waved before looking at Michonne and pointed at her belly.

"I better be godmother when I come back." You said smiling

"Yes ma'am." She said with a smile on her face. You got in the car and turned it on, you had some doubts on leaving but knew this has to happen. Your dad came to the window and leaned on it and you took in a breathe.

"Please don't loose yourself, if you have to stop stop. Don't leave the people who care about you." You told your dad and he sighed knowing exactly what you meant by that. He was looking for Rick so much it was taking him away from you. Daryl stepped back and you smiled at everybody and waved.

"I'll be back in 2 months I promise." You announced and they all smiled, you put the car in drive and drove off watching the gates close behind you.

"Y/n can you hear me." Your dad said over the walkie and you grabbed it.

"Yeah dad I can hear you."

-

You got to Tennessee right before the car stopped. You sighed and looked around to see if there was anything a car or a store. You grabbed the walkie and took in a breathe, please work, you thought.

"Dad can you hear me?" You asked and heard static then his voice.

"Ya I can, ya alright?" He asked

"Ya I'm fine, I'm in Tennessee but I think that soon probably a couple more miles you won't be able to hear me so im starting with the notes." You said and held back tears.

"Alright I love ya." You heard him sniffile before the walkie went out.

"I love you to dad." You said and out the walkie away and grabbed the pack. You opened the pack and grabbed the note book and pen. You wrote, STILL ALIVE- F/I, and looked for a place to put it. After an hour you found a gas station and put the note on the counter under a rock.

"Dad not sure if you can hear me but, if you do come for me I'm leaving notes in stores." You put the walkie back and grabbed your knife and stabbed a walker that came for you.

-

Almost 13 days (that's what google said). 13 days and nights of running and hiding from herds. Avoiding people, some you had to kill. Your feet hurt even after taking a days break in Arkansas but you finally have reached Texas. Not knowing where Morgan is you decided to use the walkie every few miles in. You looked at the map and Texas was huge, it could take a few weeks to find him, if he is even alive. But you needed a break so you needed to find somewhere safe. You found a house that looked safe enough so you cleared it, only 3 walkers where in it.

You set up a fire and out a can of beans over the fire. You grabbed the map and decided where you should head to next.

(A/n- I read that season 5 of fear is filmed in New Braunfels, Texas and its near Austin soon)

Austin, Texas, in school in Alexandria the teacher said Austin is pretty popular. Morgan could be there so that's where you would start. You took a 2 days rest and even found a lake to bathe in, after getting supplies you made your way to Austin. You left a note at the WELCOME TO TEXAS sign and left another at store the another. There was a hotel a little father form the house and out another there.

After a day or so you were closer to Austin and decided it's time to try with the Walkie.

"Morgan, it's Y/n I'm in Texas, I don't know if your alive but I'm here." You said and put the walkie away after no answer. You walked for what seemed hours when you saw the Austin sight and grabbed the walkie.

"Morgan I'm in Austin." You said into the walkie and decided to start trying different channels as you repeated the question though each. You tried the last channel and was about to put it away when you heard voices and your heart sped up.

"Morgan?" You asked and kept moving the circle to hear it more clearly.

"John, June you there." Someone said, it was a deep voice and noticed it was Morgan's voice.

"Morgan, Morgan, it Y/n Dixon from Alexandria, please hear me." You said pleading to yourself.

"Y/n wha-." He started. "What are you doing out here so far, where are you?" He asked.

"Umm I'm by the Welcome to Austin sign. Where are you maybe I can find you." You said and out down to the ground pulling the map out."

"I have two people close to you y/n, don't be alarmed their names are John and June." He said and you sighed.

"Ok." You said wearily.

"John, June did you hear that." Asked Morgan and a female bodice came through.

"We hear you Morgan, on our way Y/n." A man said.

"Hang tight y/n." Said Morgan and you sat back. You grabbed a paper and pen and wrote. FOUND MORGAN. You sat there for a while when a car approached and stopped next to you, you raised you knife reading to attack of nesassary. The window went down and the man and woman out there hands up.

"Hold on hold on young lady I'm John and this is June, we come to get you." John said and you hesitated.

"We won't hurt you i promise." June said. You nodded and grabbed your stuff and opened the car. You sat down and watched John and June's every move.

"So where did you come from?" Asked John and you sighed.

"Long story." You breathed out a laugh and they smiled.

"Guess we will know about it after you meet Al." Said June and you cocked your head to the side.

"Who's Al?" You asked wearily.

"She was journalist before and she interviews everybody on their stories." Said John and you nodded.

-

"Morgan, who is y/n?" Asked Alicia as she and Luciana approached him.

"She's comes from Virginia and Alexandria like me, she's around your age Alicia." Said Morgan smiling and Alicia rolled her eyes.

-

The car came to a stop out some gates and they opened. The car pulled in and people crowded around. John and June got out and your door opened revealing Morgan. You got out of the car and hugged him before pulling away to look over all the people. It was a whole bunch of little kids then a whole bunch of adults.

You looked around and your eyes fell on a very pretty girl with brown hair and hazel eyes. Her eyes where on you but they seemed defensive like yours at the moment. You felt uncomfortable and Morgan said to clear a path so you could sit down.

-

"I have been walking for almost 20 days, Car broke down when I reached Tennessee." You said to Al and she smiled. Everybody else was sitting around eating dinner as they heard your story how you arrived here.

"You have any family, back in Virginia?" She asked and you nodded.

"I have my dad, and more people who became my family, we have lost some but they will never be replaced." You said.

"Lover?" She asked and you shook your head no.

"Nope pretty much a virgin." You said and they all laughed.

Alicia started at you slowly relaxing that you were not a threat, all of them did.

"Why did you come here?" Asked Al and you sighed.

"I was 12 when the world started, I'm like 18 now. I'm supposed to be enrolling into college now, planning out my life going to go see what's out there. The apocalypse may have happened but I still want that chance. And Morgan I need to tell you something, privately." You said and he looked at you concerned. He gave Al a look and she shut the camera off then got the film. He stood up and you followed, he stopped just a few feet from everybody and waited for you to speak.

"Ricks gone." You said. "Gone not dead, just gone it's like he disappeared." You said looking down, thinking about that day.

"Wha- what how, what happened." He asked.

"Bridge explosion, he saved everybody." You said and Morgan nodded then you heard someone clear their throat.

"I'm sorry Morgan." Said June, you looked at him confused.

"I told them about Virginia, they how me and Rick go back." He said and you nodded.

"They haven't the body?" He asked and you shook your head.

"No, my dad, he has been looking out there by the bridge everyday, Michonne is pregnant with Ricks kid and she's about to give birth so she can't look anymore. And I was practically taking care of Judith so I couldn't either. And others have their own thing." You said and Morgan nodded again before walking off. You sighed and and smiled at the group.

"Anything else you guys want to know about me?" You asked and Al came forward.

"I want to know about the king and the tiger." Said Al and you nodded walking back to the fire.

-

You told everybody what you needed to know. Your guard was down long ago, you kept sneaking glances at the girl who's name is Alicia and she looked back at you as well. You got ready for bed when you were approached by Alicia.

"We never had a formal introduction, I'm Alicia Clark." She said holding her hand out and you shook it.

"Y/n Dixon."

You talked the night until you fell asleep from exhaustion. You learned about her family, all the things she has been through and you shared hers. She told you about her boyfriends and you felt a pang of jealousy, 'Gosh y/n you don't even know this girl,' you told your self. You fell asleep after an hour and Alicia put a blanket over you and whispered goodnight and left. You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and got up. You looked in the mirror and braided your hair into two. You went outside and the people started building some type of plane. You approached Alicia as she was talking through a microphone looking at parts. She saw you approach and she smiled, you then looked up and saw a plane.

"Hey what's with the plane, didn't see that last night?" You asked Lucianna as you approached her, she smiled and sighed.

"A few weeks ago we were on a plane and we crashed landed a few miles from here, we actually came from here at first so we came back. Those kids they left biters out there tied up to keep us away, because it's not safe. We gained their trust and we are building this plane so we can get out of this place." She said sun you nodded you looked over the people and your eyes fell on him.

"Dwight?" You said sternly and he looked at you eyes widening.

"Mini Dixon, what are you doing out here?" He asked and you glared at him grabbing your knife when you felt a hang go to it, you saw Morgan shaking his head to stand down.

"What are you doing here, I thought you were dead?" You asked him.

"I'm lookin for Sherry, my wife, not trying to cause any trouble." He said and raised his good arm as a surrender. You nodded and stood down every body who watched went back to what they were doing. Alicia came in-front of you with a concerned look.

"So what's your story with him?" She asked

"He served the man who killed two people of my family and kept my father in a cage keeping him like an animal." You said looking at her with hard eyes.

You lended you knowledge on fixing things with the plane. It's clear they were grateful on your help, you fixed the engine to the best of your ability.

"Y/n want to come with me to a ware house, we need more parts." Said Alicia and you nodded. You made your way down and smiled at her.

-

Small Alicia POV

Gosh she is so beautiful. I met her yesterday and I feel like I have known her since forever. Call me crazy but I'm starting to get feelings for her already.

-

Regular POV

The butterflies in your stomach were almost painful when you were near Alicia. She was gorgeous, you felt like you could tell her everything and you almost have from Atlanta to now. You grabbed your backpack, emptying it out of anything that was worth leaving just encase. You took your knives and gun and left to find Alicia. She was waiting outside a car and got in when she saw you. You sat in the drivers seat and looked to see if anybody else was going, luckily no one was there.

"Anybody else going?" You asked and she shook her head.

"Do you have a problem with it, because I can get someone to come with us may-." She started but you shook your head no.

"I have no problem at all." You said and winked making her cheeks flush red. She drove to the warehouse and she told you the parts to look out for as well as food. You took out two walkers with your knives and looked back to see Alicia looking at you with awe.

"Never taken out biters with knives really." She said chuckling. You looked down and saw a metal pole that was sharpened at the edges.

"Well I mean that pole is badass, where did you get it, might need to get myself one." You asked.

"A water park." She said smiling and you nodded.

"Alright tell you what I teach you how to fight with knifes and we stay a little longer to find a pole similar to yours. Deal?" you asked holding your hand out. She thought for a second and took your hand and shook it.

"Ok come here stand in-front of me." You said as two walkers approached you both. She stood infront of you and you handed her your knives, you stood close to her.

"Now, you going to want to dodge them, go in between them. Remember you have to use strength to kill them just cant push it in. I'll be here just encase." You said. The walkers go closer and Alicia tightened her grip on the knives.

"Go you said." And she ducked as they swung at her, you backed up out of reach then one by one they were both put out.

"That was great, remember you gotta faster and if you have someone behind you, let's say as kid you have to push them back, maybe use you leg or arm. Even an adult if they don't notice you have to act quick." You said and she nodded cleaning the knives.

"Thanks I'll definitely use that, after I find knives." She said.

"If you can get a hunting knife there much stronger and lighter." You said and she nodded. You found a majority of the parts needed and headed back to the car.

"I found this." She said and handed you a metal pole with holes in it. You grabbed it and smiled at you, you got one of your knives and it's holster and handed it to her.

"Thank you Alicia, as a true thanks here's one of my knives, work with one just for now you will go better I just know of it." You said and she smiled brightly.

"Thank you, now let's get back and we can sharpen the edge." She said and started the car.

You kissed her cheek and pulled back getting a red face. You looked at her though the corner of your eye and saw her face was red.

-

When you arrived back to the truck stop, she helped sharpen the metal pole. You and her had a flirty thing going on for the rest of the month until you started feeling sexual tension start to arise. The stares would last long as well as lingering touches, she thought you how to use the pole and you taught her knives. Everybody shared their knowledge with you and you did with them.

The plane was just about finished when you realized if they finish the plane you may loose them, loose her.

"So, where do you guys plan on going after getting the rest of your group?" You asked Alicia as she ate dinner, sitting on the ground.

"Not sure, definitely leave this area." She said and you nodded seeing how bad the area is, you sat down next to her and she offered some of her dinner but you waved it off.

"Maybe fly to Virginia." She said lowly and you looked at her like she was crazy.

"I'm just playing can't risk another crash, especially where the girl I likes home is." She said and looked at you. Your face went red and the butterflies in your stomach, she grabbed your chin and pulled your face closer to hers.

"Y/n Dixon I like you a lot, it's ok if you don't but-." She said but you silenced her with a kiss. She pulled you in harder making you moan, she set her dinner down and you pushed her on the ground, straddling her. You looked up and saw there were people still around so you pulled away.

"Want to take me to your tent?" You asked and she nodded, you got off her and held your hand out which she gladly took. She led you to her tent opening it and pulled you inside. You slid your shirt off and she did the same.

She looked at yours left arm and stomach and noticed a beautiful tattoos.

(This but all around the forearm)

(Something like that)

"Didn't know you had tattoos." She said and scratched her head.

"Oh yeah... do they bother you?" You asked.

"No no they are actually really hot." She said making you blush. You walked over to her and pushed her onto the makeshift bed.

"Wait crap I've never had sex with-." She started and you kissed her.

"It's ok, I'll teach you." You said and she looked at you confused.

"After Carl died, his girlfriend, Enid, and me got close and we ended up in bed together. It was just one night didn't mean anything." You said and stroked her hair.

"Didn't say that in the interview." She said and leaned back letting you crawl on top of her.

"Some things are just not to be meant to be said." You said and winked at her. You went down and captured her lips, she raised her hands and caressed your sides. You laid down on her putting your weight on her body making her moan.

"Just relax let me do the work." You said and trailed down her stomach.

a/n- once ftwd season 6 comes to hulu I’ll be able to continue my part 2

#alicia clark x reader #Alicia clark x dixon reader #x female reader #fear the walking dead #Daryl dixon x daughter reader #the walking dead #alycia debnam carey #alicia clark