#and it seemed a shame to leave it in my drafts forever

[calliopesartblog]

i can’t even remember when i drew this, maybe 2019 ? anyway, here you go

[professorsnape394]

DAY 11 - Unrequited Love

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 😡

Prompt: Buried

Summary: Long Buried feelings finally come to light and Severus does not know how to react.

A/N: For this one I took inspiration from the last Snapetober I participated in (2021). I found an half-finished unpublished story in my drafts, so here is it finished and fully fleshed out. Enjoy :-)

Warnings:  Angst. Rejection. Spoilers: Unhappy Ending.

Word Count: 2307

Credits to Gif Creator.

Hogwarts Christmas Ball, 1978.

Y/N stared across the dance floor longingly, her gaze captivated by the slender boy on the other side of the room. Despite his tattered dress robes, and slightly greasy hair, Y/N always found herself drawn to him. In fact, her attention was rarely on anything but him. Severus Snape had stolen Y/N’s heart long ago; it was just a shame he knew nothing about it.

Her stomach lurched at the sight of Severus approaching a familiar red-head. While Y/N spent her days watching the boy, Snape spent his trailing around after Lily Evans.

It did not come as a shock to see them at the ball together since it was rumoured her infatuation, James Potter, was absent due to a bad batch of pumpkin pasties. What was surprising, however, was the fact that Severus was supposed to be attending the ball with her. A fact that seems to have slipped his mind.

Fighting back a second bout of tears that week, Y/N turned her gaze elsewhere. While she was under no illusions that Severus would return her feelings, she had hoped that the two of them might enjoy one dance together, even if they remained only friends. She watched on from afar, as her date laughed with another girl. Her face burned with a mixture of jealously and embarrassment.

It wasn’t the first time Severus’ feelings for Lily Evans made her feel small. But it was the first time her best friend had betrayed her so blatantly.  

Hours passed and without a single offer to dance, her classmate’s uninterested in anyone else besides their own dates. Severus remained on the opposite side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the girl whose heart was breaking over him.

Finding the night to be a lost cause, Y/N resided to return to her dorm. With one last glance over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Severus and Lily dancing arm in arm to a slow song; her head positioned intimately on his chest, his lips brushing against her auburn hair.   When he turned in time with the music, Y/N recognised the unrequited look on his face as the same one she often wore around him. It was in that moment she lost all hope of ever ensnaring the man she so longed to love.

That night forever haunted Y/N’s memory even years after she had graduated from Hogwarts. It was the night she had lost all hope on love, and despite trying to overcome her teenage infatuation, the remnants of her feelings still remained. It was this that prevented her from finding love elsewhere, thus leaving her just as alone in her twenties as she had been as a teen.

Diagon Alley, 1985.

Y/N’s usual weekend ritual consisted of a trip to Flourish and Blotts to purchase a brand-new novel, then visit a local café to begin her next literary adventure. It seemed the only way to escape the bitter thoughts of reality that often creeped up on her whenever she was alone.

The familiar chime of the doorbell welcomed her into the shop, the wall of heat easing the sting of the cold winter air outside. She took her time browsing the bookshelves, roaming up and down the aisles multiple different times before settling upon her final pick.

Y/N finally reached for the hardback, tugging only to find it would not budge. The witch crouched to inspect the issue, finding a second hand tightly gripped the spine from one aisle over, seemingly as reluctant to let go as she was.

An irritated grunt echoed through the silence of the shop, and the book was ripped from her grasp.

“Excuse me, what exactly do you think you are doing?” Y/N exclaimed, marching her way around the shelves. “I had that book firs-“

Her voice trailed away, the sight of her competitor stealing all the breath in her lungs.

“Severus.” She gasped.

“Y/N?” He turned to the woman in surprise.

“It’s… good to see you.” She bit back the tone of shock in her voice. A sickly feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

“How long as it been? I can’t remember the last we spoke.”

“I can.” She blurted without thought.

After that night at the Christmas Ball, Y/N swore to never speak a word to the man again. Though it pained her, it was ultimately the right decision to try and lessen the hold he had on her. What hurt more was that he never once tried to reach out after that night; it hadn’t occurred to Y/N that their friendship had meant so very little to him.

Snape raised an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for the woman to elaborate.

“I should get going. It was nice to see you again, Severus.” She made a dash for the door.

“Wait. Your book.” He called after her, feeling nothing but utter confusion.

“Keep it, it’s yours.” She disappeared from his sight.

Struggling for breath, Y/N planted herself in the far corner of the café, peeling off her layers of scarfs and her winter coat. Her encounter with Severus had sent her blood boiling, flushing her face with colour and breaking a sweat out on her forehead. He was both the first and the last man she wanted to run into on any given day, she just never expected it to actually happen.

He looked so different now; no longer the lanky teenager she first developed feelings for. Yes, his face had aged, but his slight wrinkles only added to his appeal. At least when she thought back on him, she was picturing the scrawny boy with clothes that barely fit him. Now, however, she would forever see him as the man he had grown to become; tall, broad shoulders, and not completely lacking in the muscle department. And it didn’t escape her notice how strong his grip was when he forced the book from her hands.

Burying her head in her palms, Y/N wanted to scream, cry and throw up all at once. What had once been a distant memory of a childhood crush was now back in full force and she couldn’t get the image of the man out her head.

There was no way of telling how long she sat like that, except for the fact her tea had long since turned cold and the busy streets of Diagon Alley had almost emptied.

Had her hands not been pried away from her face, she may very well have sat like that all night. Her eyes first landed on the leather-bound novel that had been placed gently in front of her, not daring to look at where it had come from.

“Y/N.” Severus spoke softly, announcing his presence.

“How did you know I was here.” She croaked, burning a hole into the cover of the book.

“I remembered how much you liked tea. There was only so many places you could run to.” He took the seat opposite hers. “Why did you run?”

Y/N fought the urge to bury her head in her hands again. How was she going to explain the bizarre reaction she had to seeing him again after all these years.

“What can I get you, Sir?” A waitress interrupted, buying her time.

“Coffee. Black.”

“That’ll be with you in just a moment.” She smiled, returning behind the counter, leaving the two of them to sit in silence once more.

The loaded silence between the two threatened to swallow Y/N whole. Her need to see the look on Severus’ face, outweighed the need to hide the embarrassment on her own. She appreciated he did not push her for an answer, but his intense stare had a similar effect. There was no escaping his question.

“Seeing you again, after all these years… it’s too painful.” She stuttered.

Severus swallowed; it was clear he did not expect such an answer from her.

“Care to enlighten me as to why an encounter with me is … painful for you?”

Y/N searched his face for a semblance of understanding, surely he was not entirely oblivious to her feelings for him.

“Do you remember the last time we spoke?”

Severus didn’t bat an eyelid at her swift change of subject.

“I didn’t think I did.” He started. “But upon seeing you again, I think I remember when it was.”

“It was the day before the Christmas Ball in our Seventh year. We were sat in the common room by the fire. I was telling you about my dress, I was so excited to wear it for the ball.” The memory of the moment had her blinking back tears, it hurt to recount the events. “We were complaining that we both had to attend the ball alone, almost everyone in our year had dates and frankly it was a bit embarrassing that no one had even thought to ask me. You on the other hand made your own choice by refusing to ask anyone at all, considering the one person you wanted to ask was already taken.”

“I recall.” Severus clenched his jaw at the mention of the late Lily Potter.  

“Do you remember what happened later that night? You came to me in my dorm; slightly dishevelled I admit, maybe you had been drinking? I don’t know. But you came to me and asked me to accompany you to the ball.”

Severus froze, the memory slowly coming back to him.

“I don’t think you ever knew how happy that made me. I was completely over-joyed at the thought of having a date to the ball. Not just any date; you. You were the only one I truly wanted to go with and I felt like my dreams were finally coming true. I could barely sleep I was so happy. I spent the whole next day prepping and primping, making myself look the best I possibly could, in the hopes I could somehow manage to impress you.”

“You did not need to impress me.”

“Didn’t I?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as a tear fell from her eyes. “Because if my memory is correct; despite my efforts to prepare for a magical evening with you, I spend all of it alone. I arrived in the Great Hall to find my date had apparently been double booked.”

Suddenly it all dawned on Severus at once. He had completely fucked up. Not only by forgetting his arrangement with you, but for leaving his friend on the lurch when she had no one else to go with. He had been so blind by Lily’s request to replace James; he had forgotten everything the two of them had spoken about the night before.

“Y/N.” Severus sighed, massaging his forehead.

“I discovered through my own humiliating research that Lily Evans had become short of a date at the last moment and came to you for help. Which you so graciously offered.” She swiped at the stream of tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Snape reached across the table to take her hand in his.

“It’s done now.” She sniffled. “But you never even spoke to me after that. All those years of friendship forgotten about in an instant.”

“You were avoiding me like the plague, Y/N. I had no idea what I had done to piss you off, all I knew was that you were mad at me. I thought it would be better if I left you alone.”

“I wasn’t mad at you Severus. I was in love with you.” She looked teary-eyed into his pitying gaze.

Her confession left Severus speechless. Had he really been so blind, that he hadn’t noticed his best friend was in love with him?

He swallowed, clearing the ever-growing lump in his throat.

“I had no idea.” His words were nothing more than a whisper.

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? While I was staring at you, you were too busy looking at her.”

Severus closed his eyes, taking a second to think back. She was right, his entire youth was memories of pining after. He hadn’t even taken a second to appreciate the one girl who stuck by him through it all.

“That still doesn’t explain why you ran away from me just now? Did I hurt you so bad that you’re still annoyed with me?”

It was Y/N’s turn to fall silent now.

“I think I should go.” She said after an uncomfortably long pause.

Y/N rushed to stand from the small wooden table, Severus stood just as quickly, blocking her exit path.

“Tell me.” He stared intensely into her eyes, his cold hands wrapping around her dainty wrist. “Please.”

The length between his words and hers seemed to go on for days. Finally, she gathered the courage to say the words she had been holding in for so many years.

“I think… I think I might still be in love with you.” His hand fell from hers, retracting as if he had been burned.

While it was her instinct to run away as far as she could, Y/N suspected this would be the one time she would regret fleeing. She needed to hear what he had to say.

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

Her heart sunk.

“Nothing.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “If the obvious doesn’t occur to you, then the best thing to say would be nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated sincerely.

“It really is time I should get going.” This time Severus stepped out of her way, allowing her access to the door.

“Your book.” He lifted it from the table.

“Keep it. If you ever have a change of heart, I might borrow it from you someday.”

Severus nodded, understanding her words.

Y/N took one last glimpse of him before leaving, flashing him a sad smile that might haunt his memory forever.

[miokki]

# HIDDEN

✰ synopsis: a blizzard seems to bring more than snow—in this ribbon wrapped package includes a broken boyfriend and an array of emotions

✰ paring: tartaglia x gn!reader

✰ warnings: blood and wounds but nothing gory described to insanely.

✰ notes: i’ve been holding this one in my drafts for like forever, i think it deserves some recognition now. i think i wrote it in jan tho?

ajax comes home late; it's been awhile since it hasn't been that way. you know he's a busy man — it's to be expected of a harbinger. it's what you signed up for when you decided to further pursue your two's relationship, and one of those attempts were for him to move most of his things into your home and the rest in his family's home despite his protest. you thought that it would bring him home more often than not with the little sentiment his things have in them.

however, it barely feels like you're sharing a home with him at times. as more often than not; he returns home after you fall asleep and leaves before you arouse from your slumber. so, when you're sitting awake in your and your boyfriend's shared bed and you suddenly hear creaking at the front of the house, your curiosity is heavily peaked.

you can hear the harsh sounds of a sneznayan blizzard become loud, both the strong winds and snow crashing down on to the earth mercilessly as you slip off the bed. your toes gently hitting the cool wooden flooring in an attempt to not gain your boyfriend's attention. quietly dragging your blanket off the bed, and wrapping it around yourself with only your head and the strands of your hair sticking out.

the first few steps you take are calculated and careful, only putting the weight of your body down when you're sure it's a plank of wood that won't squeak. and while still careful, the next steps you take are more confident—navigating the floor as if you were a seasoned adventurer from the adventurers' guild until you get to the bedroom door. only taking an ever-so-small breath of relief as your eyes gaze through the crack of the door. your eyebrows furrowing when observing your orange-haired man sprawled all over the couch. his chest moving up and down as if he had been chased all the way home.

you know that checking on him from a far should of been it, yet the rest of your actions are your body's doing. seemingly moving on its own as your hand pushes the door in front of you open. only to reveal a dimly lit living room and a trail of footprints starting at the front door to ending at the couch. the couch placed not far from the right of the entrance.

a split second later, your boyfriend is now staring at you. his head upside down from your view touching the back of the couch as he looks at you with a look of both shame and panic. however, you only look back blankly before moving towards him.

"move over," you whisper, your hands gesturing to his arms laying of both armrests.

you internally giggle at the way he swiftly shuffles at your request, acting as if you were an higher up of his. ajax still stares at you with his ocean blues, now hidden by the dark of the night as you sit beside him. the blanket that once was wrapped around you now spread across both yours and his lap to share the warmth.

yet, he still says nothing-waiting for you to make your move so he can counteract yours.

"love, is this the time you've been coming back," you ask, looking away from your lap to look at him however your eyes widen at the sight of him.

"your bleeding," you say softly, your hand reaching out to the red on his sleeve but he moves away.

"babe, it's dark. it's probably from the blizzard."

"don’t lie."

you push your fingertips further, breaking through the atmosphere to touch the dampen surface, "wait, ow... be careful." he winces, his tone becoming softer.

"alright, alright, i may have got ahead of myself," ajax chuckles. your eyes explore his body—taking notice at the slight rips in his clothing and the ever growing spots of bloods seeping through the fabric, the more notable ones at his side and all up his right arm.

"lift your arms up," you yawn as you reach to unbutton parts of his shirt.

sounds of your boyfriend's attire rustling break the air as he shifts around, though his movements short and unsure. you can feel him sucking sharply in a breath as you place your fingers under the shirt in order to lift it over his head. quickly tugging up on the fabric as gently as you can to lessen the pain. ajax's arms then lower as to make the rest of the process less difficult and awkward.

it's when you stare at your boyfriend's shirtless body, then your blank expression breaks slightly and your breathing halts. it hurts you a little that he's being hiding this from you. the scars. the ones scattered all over his torso, ones that blend in with his freckled and tattered skin. the ones that you want to touch and caress. yet, as you reach his untouched shoulder the moonlight shines onto your face, and you think that ajax has seen the look in your eyes.

"i'm sorry, love. i.." he says reaching out for your hand before wincing once again.

"right," you exclaim, pulling your hand back, remembering that you should patch him up. "hun, where's the bandages?"

"under the coffee table," he sighs.

you look to front of you to not only see the bandages but a pack of cotton balls and a bottle saline laying right where he said. how did i not notice something like that? you think to yourself.

you pick up all three, place them down on top of the table and then take a cotton ball out of the packaging and the bottle of saline solution. soon after, you put the cotton on top of the open bottle before tipping it upside down. the ocean smelling liquid swishes around inside until you quickly flip the bottle back up and place it back up onto the wooden table.

you turn your eyes back to your lover, seemingly more relaxed when you first approached him in his weakened state. your eyes tracing his slouched shoulders and the way his body has now ensconced into the cushion. his heavy dark-blue eyes stare back through messy hair as your movements break through the air, your hand shifting towards one of the wounds on his arm.

the motion is soft as the soaked cotton meets the injury-trying to be as brief and gentle as possible to lessen the man's pain. yet despite your efforts, he still flinches away from the former ball of fluff, softly hissing under his breath as you continue disinfecting the gash.

"what happened?" your voice, earnest, while you replace the blood covered cotton ball for a new one-moving further down his arm to clean the others.

he sighs defeated, "what can i say? people truly hate debt collectors," he jokes. "no, but i got unlucky and provoked the company the fatui had been funding for years. there may have been one or two payments in the past, yet we haven't gotten any payments back on the last several months. what i didn't anticipate was how strong their men were as a whole."

the orange-haired man's chest bounces up and down as he tells the story as if was an adventure book, smiling at the fight. he's quick to point out where he got the wound from when you clean them up. you notice it distracts him from the pain of it and it's not long before all the tension in the air dissipates. your smile soft against your lips as two of you talk until your up to the last of his wounds to bandage.

you squint at the slash on his forearm, the roll of gauze in hand as apply the dressing on top wound before starting to secure it. the skin between your eyebrows beginning to crease from your state of concentration.

"what's on your mind, my dear?" ajax hums.

"nothing important," you say, an obvious lie on your part. he laughs inwardly, "come on, love. you know i don't just ask questions for the sake talking. talk to me," he whispers, his head becoming closer.

you only let out a rather large breath of air through your nose. actively pausing the wrapping of bandages to think of what to say—wanting to get the right message across towards your concerns about him and the two of you. the moon shining bright out the window as you find the right words.

"i guess..." you start, accidentally fumbling with the gauze, "i want you to be more honest with me."

"I don't want to be someone you hide from, ajax. i want you to rely on me. i know i'm not strong in the way you are, but i don't want to live knowing that there's a truth you won't tell me," you express, your hand grasping onto his.

the skin is rough and vein, yet ajax’s hold on you is tight as your thumb slides over his skin. and still, his grasp is unsure— shaky even as he shares a worried look with you.

"and what if you don't like the the side i hide?" you lover says reluctantly, his breath nearing your neck

you gaze up, "i couldn't imagine a world where i don't come to love you," you reply through loving eyes, your hand coming up to cup his cheek before kissing the corner of his lips.

"ajax, i want you to trust me with all of you. your scars, your secrets, your thoughts—even the unpleasant ones. all of it. so, please, don't hide, my love." your words flow as naturally as your tears on face.

yet as they roll into the corners of your mouth, all you can taste is the bittersweetness of the night before the feeling of ajax's soft lips connecting with your own is the sole thing that consumes you. you can only smile as you bathe in the sensation of his love on yours.

do not copy of repost any of my works.

@ miokki 2024

[the-badger-mole]

The Other Woman: Part 5

In the end, Zuko decided that a letter was the least intrusive way to contact Katara. He'd handwritten at least ten drafts of varying lengths- one reaching eight pages before he'd decided that was excessive. In the end he had the envelope messengered over to Katara's apartment by a third party service both to keep her from feeling like he was involving one of their friends on his behalf and to maintain the distance she'd implicitly requested from him. His final draft was written on cream-colored card stock and delivered with a bouquet of panda lilies. He'd distilled his plea into two short lines.

I'm sorry. Can we talk?

He hadn't expected to hear anything the day he sent the letter. On the second day, his nerves began to get the better of him as he checked his phone every five or so minutes for a missed call or message. On the third day, he berated himself for not saying more in his letter. On the fourth day, he resigned himself to Katara's silence. On the fifth day, despair settled around him like a rain-soaked coat. On the sixth day, his phone lit up with a message.

Can we meet this week?

The diner Katara chose was one they'd stumbled into before late one night after celebrating the birthday of one of their friends a bit too hard. They'd split a custard tart while waiting for a cab. They'd talked about coming back a few times, but they never got around to it. It was a neutral enough spot for them to meet this day.

After the waiter had seated them in a far corner booth at Katara's request, and brought them their coffee and tea respectively, they sat in awkward silence. Katara held her hands clasped around her mug, not meeting Zuko's eye as she waited for him to say something. Zuko took a sip of his tea (some awful bagged stuff that hit his tongue with an acrid, murky taste that lingered), and took a deep breath.

"I owe you an apology," Zuko said. Katara looked up expectantly, her face giving away nothing. "I...I should have stood up for you to my mother. I have no excuse to give you except that I hadn't been paying attention to how unhealthy my relationship with her had gotten."

Katara pulled her lip in between her teeth and her brow furrowed. Zuko could almost hear her thoughts, but it didn't seem like she was ready to speak them.

"I-I spoke to my mom," he told her. "I let her know that I need space from her." Zuko took a deep breath. "I know this doesn't make up for how I've let her treat you, but...I just wanted you to know that I get it. I get why you broke up with me. I would love another chance to prove that I'll have your back against anyone, her included. But I get if that ship has sailed. I guess I just thought you deserved to know that something...I don't know....productive? came from this."

"Why did it take me leaving?" Katara's voice cracked slightly. It startled Zuko, who was beginning to think she would say nothing at all.

"I...I," he stammered. "I was afraid she'd leave again. I was never afraid of you leaving. I knew how much you cared for me, and I took that for granted. I know it's an awful explanation, and I should have listened when you told me before how you felt. I should have told you what I felt. We were supposed to be on the same team, and I let you feel like an outsider." Katara blinked rapidly against the tears that sprang up in her eyes.

"What did she say?" Katara asked. Zuko felt the heat rush to his cheeks again. It would be easier, he thought, if his face would just remain red in shame forever. It would make his scar less prominent, anyway.

"Well..." he said, cringing, "she thought you were pregnant and told me to get a paternity test." Katara snorted derisively and Zuko bowed his head apologetically. "I told her that I needed space, and then I left. She's reached out since, but I haven't responded yet. I've got her text messages in archive. I know I have to speak to her again, and soon, but I needed to take some time to sort out my thoughts." Katara cleared her throat and leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the table. Her face gave little away and Zuko wasn't sure how to read what little did come through.

"And what are your thoughts?" she asked.

"I think... I think I screwed up," Zuko confessed. "Not just with you. When I found my mom again, I was twenty. I didn't know what I was doing with my life, and I hadn't spoken to my father in years. Uncle was great, but when I found my mom again, I guess I regressed. I made so many decisions based around her. I turned down a great job because I would be too far from her. And it's not that I regret my life here- I wouldn't have met you if I'd taken that other job- but I gave up too much to be around my mom. I tried to force something instead of letting our relationship grow naturally. I know a lot of it had to do with her insisting she needed me here, and having a panic attack anytime I mentioned doing anything that would take me away from her, but at the end of the day, I'm a grown man, and I need to take responsibility for my own actions. Or...inactions." Katara nodded, taking in a few shallow breaths as she bit down on the inside of her lips.

"I thought you agreed with her about me," Katara said, wiping a couple of stray tears from her cheeks. "I thought that was why you didn't stop her, even after all the arguments we'd had about it. That night...I heard you and her talking in the kitchen-"

"I know," Zuko said, wincing.

"I heard what she said about me," Katara continued. "And I heard you say nothing to her. Nothing. I thought, there's no way this man can love me the way he says he does and not speak up when someone says something like that to his face."

"I'm so sorry," Zuko murmured. He ran his hands over is face. "I am so, so sorry."

"I understand why you clung to her," Katara sighed. "I do. If I had another chance to have my mom... I don't know. I never wanted to come between you and her, but you were supposed to talk to her about it. You were supposed to get her to stop treating me that way. I'm just so tired of arguing with you about her."

Silence hung across the table, and the tension was so heavy that the waiter paused in his journey to get their orders and went back behind the counter.

"You deserve more," Zuko said. "I'm sorry I lost sight of that. And thank you for coming to speak with me today. I-I know you didn't owe me closure."

"How do you know you won't slip back?" Katara's question caught Zuko off guard. He stared at her blankly for a moment before he gathered himself.

"I...guess I don't, really," he admitted. "I have a meeting with a therapist set up to help me work through this thing with Mom. I wanted to have a session before I talk to her again. If she doesn't respect the boundaries I'm trying to set, I'll go low contact with her. Uncle's already volunteered to buffer. Kiyi's going off to college soon, so I won't have to worry about Mom using her for leverage. I see the problem now, and all I can do is work on it. She's my mom, and I love her. I still want her in my life, but I don't ever want to get to this point again.

"You're not doing this just to get me back?" Katara's eyes were sharp. She almost looked angry, but Zuko recognized the signs that she was guarding herself.

"No," he replied firmly. "I still love you, and if there's any hope of you giving me a second chance, I'll take it. In a heartbeat. But I need to do this for me. Because even if this is the last time I see you, I want to be better for myself." Katara swallowed hard and nodded her head.

"It could be a while," she said. "It could take years for you to sort out your issues with your mom. There is a lot to unpack. A lot."

"I know," Zuko's mouth thinned grimly. "But I need to do it. And who knows, maybe my mom will follow my lead and finally get therapy herself. Ikem's told me he's been encouraging her to go for years." Katara let out a mirthless chuckle. Then she sighed and sank back into her seat.

"I still love you," she admitted. "I'm pissed at you, and I don't know if I want to marry you, but I do love you." Zuko wanted to run with that. He wanted to beg her to give him another chance and to take his ring back. Still, he held his tongue, determined not to pressure her. After a moment, Katara rewarded his patience.

"I don't think we should be engaged," she told him. Zuko flinched. "Not right now. I think we both need space to figure things out. But...maybe someday...like in a few months, after you're settled with therapy and have a chance to start working through things. Maybe we could try again? Just dating for a while. We can...we can see if we still work together?"

"And to see if I make good on standing up to my mom?" Zuko added with a weak laugh.

"Is that okay with you?" Katara asked. Zuko hesitated, just for a moment, before he reached out and took Katara's hand.

"That's more than I dared to hope."

"Are you folks ready to order?" The pair turned to find their waiter standing awkwardly at the end of the table. Katara met Zuko's eyes and smiled slightly.

"How about a custard tart?" she suggested. "To share."

The End

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[asterhaze]

Masterpiece January Accountability Post

Things are still going so very well. Are you all still excited? Because I am!

Book 1: Masterpiece

I have an editor that is currently taking forever to go through the second draft. What? What?! I've done so much in three months you say? Aw, you're so sweet!

So what's next?

Edit the second into a third draft

Have it read and edited again.

Consider publishing.

Book 2

The timeline was finished back in November. The outline is just days away from being done since I write on it every single day. (What??? while you're writing Masterpiece? For shame.)

Currently the only thing I am focusing on when it comes to Book 2 is getting the outline done and having my Ska sensitivity reader keep a close eye on it. Thankfully, all seems well in the Ska department!

Book 3

Oh, I hear you. Stop working ahead. But I can't! The timeline for Book 3 has been finished and the outline is about halfway done. Ska's sensitivity reader has not laid eyes on this one, so it will be a minute before any more progress will be made. I'm trying desperately to leave this one alone but I honestly think it's my favorite book in the entire series!

There has been absolutely no progress on Glen's future endeavors (Book 4???) other than just thinking about it. I think I will be writing about Glen's adventures until the end of time. So no worries there!

** I am always looking for sensitivity readers to read over my stuff or beta readers to get a feel for my audience. If you're interested in reading more than anyone else, before it's published, and a free signed copy of a limited print of Masterpiece, please let me know!**

What is Masterpiece? Find out HERE.

[web-witch]

Some poems I wrote and wanted to share with you all. Would love to hear what you all think.

Come to me, my perfect one,

the youthful night still isn’t done.

To the water’s edge I call you near.

My voice, my song will lead you here.

Upon the breeze I send this spell,

The love in your heart will never quell.

In darkness I will be your light,

Your reason to stand up and fight.

I will shield you, strong and true.

With my words and spells anew.

Hold me in your arms, my mate,

Bind our hearts together by fate.

I am the one you do desire,

The perfect mate that you require.

In this moment and from this day,

By your side I’ll forever stay.

The shadow twists in wisps and dance,

In my sight the ink entrance.

Gone the shadow and the shame,

Only light and dark reclaim.

In this moment see the song,

A simple tune deep and strong.

A heart thread bleeds but none shall see,

What you truly mean to me.

You are my world and the one I crave,

The one who I will gladly save.

Mortal bonds of life and death,

Will hold no sway as I draw breath.

In this moment song of life,

Heal wounds caused by the knife.

The pain of heart that you endure,

Will cauterize swift and sure.

Memories echo within the mind,

All the trauma that I find.

Speak no more and stay your heart,

Remove the damage they impart.

A song in rhyme that you do see,

Will lift you up and set you free.

I will fly to you on high,

And stay with you until you die.

From now until that moment, last,

My heart is yours, the spell be cast.

Chaos of the darkest kind,

Held within a shattered mind.

In the moment that I see,

Light will shine as I decree.

Gone all pain and gone the strife,

Death is vanquished in the name of Life.

To speak the words that I now crave,

Life restored and this spirit save.

In no time at all, the chaos is calm,

Soothed by words, a healing balm.

Fresh as the mint of the morning breeze,

Pain begone and ailments ease.

A single tree within the grass,

Strong and tall, time will pass.

Into darkness, the tree will descend,

Both a beginning and an end.

From the ashes of the old,

A new sapling grows, strong and bold.

Clearing the way for life anew,

Reaching for the sky of blue.

With light that shines upon it’s leaves,

To nature’s law, the sapling cleaves.

Till the moment that it dies,

The sapling, the tree, from the ashes arise.

Words of wisdom flow like gold,

Water and light now unfold.

In shadow, the glimmer of hope you see,

I stand beside you as a friend should be.

I hold in hand the tools of my craft,

Paper and pen, the world to draft.

A simple stroke will protect you well,

Sealed in this sacred spell.

A web of light and magic unbidden,

Reveals emotions that are hidden.

To stand beside you in peace and war,

Warms me up down to my core.

Into the fray we enter with rage,

Fighting the demons that hold keys to the cage.

We fight for our hearts and what we believe,

To each other we will now cleave.

Cling to me and I to you,

Speaking the words strong and true.

At the end of the day,

You are mine either way.

The orange glow of golden light,

Filled the room and entered my sight.

As I sat at the table and wrote,

The words I wove seemed to float.

In the darkness that was the page,

The solid reminder that I was a mage.

The words of white glowed and sang,

In my heart, their chorus rang.

So sweet and strong with resounding voice,

To follow them was not a choice.

I danced along the page of black,

As words of white flew forth and back.

Every line a single thread,

A simple tapestry to be read.

Holding firm the threads of speech,

Healing hearts and minds in reach.

Waves of cool entreated by spell,

Words of power, anxiety quell.

Eclipsing darkness where it hid,

Finding truth behind the lies that slid.

Into shadow the words did seep,

Tears of joy to my mind did leap.

Enclosed within the poem I made,

Healing found and pain to fade.

[rubywithin]

Scrolls of Mudorius 12

(Squad Member) "All warriors please report to the entrance" huh there was some sort of emergency. (Torami) "What is happening Commander Kiyen?" I stood waiting for all the others to arrive! He looked a bit agitated, (Kiyen) "It would appear a large group of bandits was reported to be heading in this direction. We fear that Soalien is launching an all out attack!" I reached for my sword as soon as I heard that name! It was because of him....(Violet) "Torami calm down...Commander I um doubt he would launch an attack on our base". (Kiyen) "Hmm and why is that?" I remembered back at the tower how we were able to easily infiltrate it. I doubt his men would win a battle against us, (Violet) "Simple the Peace Blades are far more skilled warriors. Not to mention he has high bounties on Terizeal and Icaru....that's how much he fears them!". (Kiyen) "I see, Torami I want you to continue with your journey. Me and Violet will escort you outside just in case any bandits are around".

(Torami) "Are you sure about this?" he nodded so the three of us made our way outside. There didn't seem to be any one around so I set off on my own, I travelled through a desert. Luckily I had a decent supply of water and had worked on my ability to manipulate the wind so the heat didn't get to me. The more I traveled the more I felt the region was empty as there were very few towns or villages near each other! After a long journey I eventually made it to the town known as Redsing it was quiet! I noticed that no one was around.....was the scroll hidden here or something. I decided to enter what looked like the elders home and.....(???) "Sorry kid but it's just you and me!" it was the guy who was with Umbrell! (Torami) "Piercing Wind" I launched the attack right at him but he guarded it! I then realized I needed to leave the house.....(???) "Ah so you realized the disadvantage you were in. Shame the breeze isn't as strong here, the names Ulren and I will be taking that scroll from your corpse!".

(Torami) "I don't think so, you are going to pay for the commotion you caused at Lumin City!" I started slashing away but he easily guarded all of my attacks....my only real opponent since becoming a Peace Blade member was Violet. So maybe I was still not ready for combat we kept exchanging slashes. This guy didn't seem that strong but I can't under estimate him, (Ulren) "Desert Storm" suddenly he generated some sort of tornado of sand....AAAAH my eyes. "Now become become one with the desert" I desperately jumped out of the way of his attack but I could barely see! "You can't dodge my attacks forever Desert Storm the second" once again he launched an attack at me so I jumped on a roof to try and escape! N...no way it was tearing through the building, maybe if I rush through the house I can catch him off guard! I charged right at him but he was able to easily deflect my attack....who was this guy? "If you are curious I am a former member of the Peace Blades!"

(Toraim) "If that's true then how could you allow those attacks on Lumin City....you scum". (Ulren) "Oh please how long did it take for them to replace your Commander, they swap out members all the time and don't even care about the fallen. But I will spare you the true ugliness of the group, Desert Storm the Third". Now I have to time this right now (Torami) "Piercing Wind" I used the slight draft created from his own attack against him. I then shattered his sword before he could pick it up, "Now tell me how do you know about a Commander passing away?". Suddenly I heard clapping nearby and I turned around and could not believe my eyes. It was Novelle and she was standing next too Umbrell, (Novelle) "The fact you picked up on that was impressive!". (Torami) "Why are you...no wait did you tell me to give up the scroll..." (Novelle) "Yup cause I am working with these two. The three of us plan on finding the Blade of Hope and making everyone bow down to us!".

[katsuniverse]

hey love! i was wondering (only if you're comfortable with it) if you could do a sub!james x dom!reader smut where the reader is a cam girl hehe

anyways i love your writing!!! xx

warning: sex worker reader, SMUT, sub!james, femdom!reader, male masturabtion, unprotected penetrative sex, praise kink, bondage, subspace, slight degradation , slight mommy kink if you squint -lemme know if there’s more

AN: this was fun to write cuz i love sub!james but anywaysss hope u enjoy.{edited} let’s not pretend this request wasn’t ages ago and i deadass thought i finished and posted it only to find it nestled into my drafts. anyways i started writing this forever ago, so if you see a maturity in my language, you know why lmao) pls don’t be mad :))) obvious modern au

navigation

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

you were wearing something different, he noticed.

instead of the usual baby blue underwear, you were clad in a deep red lacy two-piece.

it extenuated your figure in a way that made you look more . . . assertive. as though you were looking down on him with a condescending grin, knowing how desperately he craves you.

except it wasn’t just him, unfortunately. every sunday at noon you would go live and entertain up to 5,000 people with your explicit vulnerability. letting everyone see your most sensitive parts and watch you as you tip yourself over the edge repeatedly.

you were james’s favorite. maybe it was in the way you would be doing the most erotic poses and making the most pathetic sounds yet still he would feel so mesmerized, so enamored that even he knew you were the one in control.

it was you that had him wrapped around your finger. it was you that made him so eager to clear off his schedule the moment he knew you would be live. it was you that made him feel aroused in a way that no ones else has seen or accomplished. and it was you that kept him wanting more even after his cheeks were heated, his thighs were trembling, his eyes were all glassy and his mind was all cloudy, only focused on you.

it was utterly shameful how often you were the star of his scenarios, the main character of his dreams and the supervisor of his mind.

now here he was, sitting on his bedroom floor in the closet so his parents wouldn’t here and wake from their slumber, watching as you run your hands down your body with a teasing smirk. he could feel that familiar haziness enter his head and it didn’t help you dressed in his favorite color, looking more ravishing than ever.

it didn’t even just stop at your outfit. you were matching in cherry red nails and heels, lips adorned in the ruby color, to go under your masquerade mask. he could feel the tent in his trousers tighten and he eagerly freed himself from the confines.

your eyes narrowed and your glanced towards the chat, deciding between all the entry’s of what you should do to tease the viewers next.

james scrambled to type a suggestion in hopes you would reply.

bambiboythechaser: love when you take your straps down and play with your tits

“hmm, bambi boy it is,” you cheerfully mutter, moving your hair away and slowly bringing down the strapes to your bra, one at a time.

your breasts fall out of their cups as you unclip the back and you make a show of pinching and pulling at your nipples. whimpers leave your throat, as you need at them.

james slows his pace with a fist around his cock, edging himself to enjoy your live. he watches as your hands hesitatingly wonder around your clothed naval, eyeing the chat for a request or offer to take them off.

bambiboythechaser: please take them off, wanna see all of you

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read the message, “ok bambi boy, seems like your extra active tonight then usual. well you know it’ll cost’ya, darling.”

james subconsciously bucks into his hand at the nickname, and makes quick work of sending the money. your eyes gleam as you see the payment and you teasingly run your fingernails downwards as you ease of the lacy panties.

a soft moan escapes him as he gets sight of your bare body. he’s always known you to be a beautiful woman but, every time is like the first time he wandered upon your content.

you slide your fingers through the arousal gathered at your folds and gently rub, leaning your head back to let out a slightly exaggerated moan. with heavy breathes you gaze down at the chat and easily notice how the viewers appreciate your lewd noises and view.

the bespectacled boys pupils zeroed in on your cunt as you quicken your pace and he does the same, wanting to finish with you. choked out gasps and moans fill the closet as he works his was towards the feeling building inside his stomach.

“get ready loves, i’m coming,” you mutter out, pushing your frame closer to the camera. james repeatedly rubs at his head as you curl your fingers to press on that one spot that has you seeing stars. you arch your back and cry out as the male releases on his stomach, whimpering as he comes down from his high.

you let out a happy sigh as you thank all your viewers and quickly dismiss yourself from the chat, reminding them to come back next week.

this was the part james was always curious about. what you did after ending the live and cleaning yourself up. did you study for school? did you even go to school? maybe you made dinner for yourself and took care of a pet. you seem like the pet-type, he thought.

but, that’s weird. he shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. he hasn’t even seen your real face and knows close to nothing about your actual identity. perhaps he’ll let it go.

if he can get you off his mind, that is.

≈ ≈ ≈

james combed back his unruly locks as he stood infront of his bathroom mirror. he was going over to his friends house. that friends parents conveniently being friends of his parents. that friend also being his first crush ever.

you had been friends since you were 12, james having fancied you since you were 15. is started out a just attraction towards you, post-puberty when his hormones took control.

however, he has soon noticed a pattern in the way his heart would flutter at your smallest affections and the wave of bitterness that would wash over him when seeing another boy try for your attention.

he had missed you over the few months you were separated in the summer and now that schools starting once again both of your parents scheduled a dinner party to catch up once again.

a sense of excitement passed over him at the thought of seeing you again. with that excitement however also came timidness. had you missed him as well? how had your summer been? had you been thinking about by him in the ways he was thinking about you? did you find someone to replace him in the weeks you were parted? he hoped not. surely you would never replace him.

he swiftly finished getting ready and met with his parents outside to apparate to your manor.

he couldn’t help but wonder if you looked different from when he last saw you. you were already naturally beautiful and he couldn’t imagine you getting anymore stunning.

he walked up the steps to your front door waiting for your appearance to ease the nerves eating away senses. to his disappointment it was your father who had led y’all inside and greeted his parents with a familiarity.

he chuckled, “you know y/n, always wanting to look her best. she should be down any minute, but in the meantime take a seat at the dinning table while we wait.”

james made sure he took the spot across from you, taking a bite of one of the rolls toward the center of the table.

in less than five minutes your heels could be heard clacking down the hallway and his head swiveled in the direction of the doorway, just as you make your way through the entrance.

he had to choke down a surprised gasp as you graciously strided down to your seat, a bashful flush decorating your cheeks.

“sorry for the wait. I couldn’t decide what dress to wear and-” you were cut off as james’s mother cut you off.

“oh dear, it’s alright we’re just happy too see you again. you don’t have to worry,” she sent you a warm smile, brushing away your fears in a heartbeat.

james could hardly focus on what anyone was saying. you looked. . . breathtaking. that was the only way to describe the sight in front of him. you were wearing a captivating red dress with a barely-appropriate cleavage and a slit down your left leg, exposing the smooth skin of your calve.

he shifted in his seat at the blood rushing downwards, trying to avoid the heat burning all over his face, ears, and neck.

the rest of the dinner went on with you trying to unsuccessfully maintain eye contact with him and james doing his best to avoid glancing at any part of your revealed physique.

after finishing up on desert, the parents made their way outside to drink and mingle while you convinced james to hangout in your room.

he was silent the whole time and you were worried he was conflicted with you, for something. determined to find out you quietly closed the door as soon as you both entered and turned so your back pressed against it.

he was facing the wall, away from you so you couldn’t see his expression making you walk over to him to see him staring at his shoes.

“jamie, why are you being so preserved? did I do something wrong? if so, you know you can tell me,” you spoke softly, taking your index finger and thumb to lift his head, and focus on you.

what you saw in his eyes startled you, seeing unexpected . . . lust clouding his irises. your eyebrows furrow as you place your palm against his cheek, feeling the warmth on his rosy flesh.

“why don’t I get you some water?,” you mutter, your feet carrying you to the bathroom.

james watches you walk out forgetting his promise to not stare at your figure, his gaze then landing on your dresser closest to the door.

despite his preoccupied mind, he noticed almost immediately the sparky item laying to the side of the surface. it was a masquerade mask. a sparkly masquerade mask. but no, not just any sparkly masquerade mask. her mask. the same girl he watched just nights ago in his room, jerking off to. the same girl he he saw finger herself and make herself come in front of hundreds of other people.

maybe he was being silly. perhaps they just happened to have the same mask. but then he walked over to you in the bathroom and he saw the same red heels, and the same red lingerie folded over in the corner on the counter.

your eyes zeroed in on him standing in the door way as you were applying your red lipstick on. he frantically turned to look at you and in an instant noticed the same red lipstick and nails.

“james, are you alright?,” you questioned, taking note of his widen eyes and struck-filled expression.

“i-it’s you. you’re h-her. she’s you. I saw you … n-naked,” he stuttered out, still staring at you in disbelief.

realization dawned on you as you took in his words. he was you naked, he doubled at the sight of your lingerie and heels. had he watched one of your lives? was he a subscriber? did he comment on the chat and interact with you in your disguise and outfit?

“oh shit, james! you saw my video didn’t you?,” you whispered-yelled as you run a troubled hand through your hair.

“are you kidding? I’ve watched all your lives. I’m a regular. bambiboythechaser ring a bell?” he says back, the tent in his pants growing.

you curse, remembering the username constantly requesting on all your chants and wonder how you be so dense. you open your mouth to ask james when he started watching, but closed it quickly at his expression.

he was trying to remain looking somewhat serious, and you had previously detected his prominent boner, but now the need in his eyes was more obvious now than ever. you made a decision then, that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take care of him for once, and took his face in your hands.

“I suppose you’ve always been my good boy, now haven’t you?”, his irises enlarge and it takes everything to not kiss him silly in that moment.

his tedious gulp doesn’t go unnoticed and you’ve half a mind to take the pad of your thumb and soothe the pinched skin in between his eyebrows. instead of a verbal response, he shakes his head. too excited to hesitate another moment, yet too anxious to speak.

you don’t mind taking control though. he knows that already by the sound of him hurriedly shuffling towards your bed. with a relaxed smirk from you, he takes his que to strip himself of the clothing shielding his body from your watchful gaze.

“my boy. so good. so eager for me, hm?” you take your time removing articles of clothing, one by one except for your bra and underwear. teasing him with your slow movements and eye contact. he flusters as the show of revealed bare skin.

it’s hits you then, as you crawl your way on top of him and place featherlight kisses upon his goosebump-riddled skin that this may be his first time. “tell me if you need me to stop at any time, ok pretty boy?” you lift your head to watch his face for any sign of opposition.

he hums and nods like the ever-needy angel he is. as you straddle his naked waist with your hips, you feel his weak attempt to thrust up towards you and you gently place his hands on your waist. his whimpers reach your ears like a melody you could never get tired of and you grind your hips down to get more.

the more your kisses on his neck turn sloppy the more confidence he gains to where he moves his hands to slide up and down you back then wraps his arms around your middle, as if scared to let you go. you reach around your back to unclasp your bra in an attempt to help him get more comfortable.

his eyes go wide like saucers and with a gentle nod of consent he dives forward. latching on to your tits and worshipping them with his hands. using his appreciation to make her feel good. after you pull away from his bruised flesh you gently lead him away from your breasts for a soft kiss as your hands grab each of his and hold them above his head while simultaneously leaning him back all the way on the bed. his soft moans are muffled by your mouth as your tongue finds the inside of his mouth. with a chaste peck to his lips, you lean back up and with one hand keep his hands together and the other, hold his cheek sweetly.

“you ok with trying something new with me, love?” you ponder as your hand leaves his face and digs into the drawer on your nightstand to pull out two, wine red silk ties.

his face turns the color of said pieces of fabric and with a sheepish grins mutters back a frantic ‘yes please’. with that you make quick work of tying his hands with a gentle kiss to each wrist and not to tight to cut off much circulation. you kiss down his body while rocking your hips downward. his whines for you to stop teasing, echo faintly in your ear and you mercifully decide to strip your bottom half of your panties and straddle him once more.

his jaw hangs open at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing against his skin. “jamie darling, I need you to look in my eyes and tell me your ready, ok?”

his dilated eyes find yours and he replies breathlessly”yes please. need you now, please”. with that, you gently life yourself above him and line him up, before sinking down.

a strangled sound leaves the poor boys throat and you brace your palms on his shoulders to steady yourself into a good rhythm. “what a pretty boy you are, hm? so pathetic looking, spread under me like a helpless little toy.” your words fuel him on more, and he braces his feet on the bed to meet up with your trusts, desperate to make you feel good.

the sounds of skin slapping with groans of your name and whimpers of his fill the room. you reach an angle that has him pressed firmly up to your g-spot and your eyes roll back as your back arches with a cry through teeth-bitten lips.

james is in an absolute daze. taking in your beauty and watching longingly as your tits bounce with each thrust of his and your movements. he reaches forward as much as he can to take a nipple into his mouth and flick his tongue around it, feeling himself get closer.

you cards your fingers through your hair and clench around him while appreciatively humming praises and his whines cause your skin to vibrate. “you close, love?” you breathlessly get out while he shakes his head ‘yes’ and switches nipples.

in an attempt to get you both to finish at the same time you reach one hand to rub your clit and the other to grab his hair and yank him up in a passionate kiss. he whimpers once again and you make a show of biting his bottom lip before pulling him away. “let’s come together, okay angel? can you do that pretty boy?”.

incoherent ‘yes’s fall from his swollen lips as you clench around him with a final thrust and fall apart as your body tingles and you reach your climax same time as james.

“thank you, mommy! thank you, thank you”, breathless words tumble out of him faster than he can register and he doesn’t even realize what he says after his head kills back and he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

your skin sticks together with sweat as you untie his hands and rub at his wrists to soothe any remaining ache.with a kiss to his forehead and a promise of return you pull away from him to grab a wet washcloth to clean you both up. afterwards, you climb into bed beside him and lift the covers up to cuddle as he lays on top of your and wraps his whole body around yours.

“you did so well for me james. so proud of you”, you brush through his hair with your fingers as he gives you pecks along your skin before softly dozing off. you turn of the light beside you as you cuddle closer to shortly shut your eyes along with him.

moots! (pls lemme know if i forgot you lol)

-also rly appreciate reposts

@jamespottersmommy @morwap @moony-lupiin @why-what-no @wonderfilworld @natti-ice @my-my-only-angel @dylwrites @honeymunson @sereinegemini @fairydxll @i-cant-stfu @alexaaahh @qtcupid @lilithreplies @lilith-weasley @l0nelylibra @padfootprongsmoony @padf00ts-l0ver @ddejavvu @moonbcrry

[ar1ert]

peace - armin arlert

genre: a little angst if you squint, but mostly fluff | g.n reader i believe. I don’t think i used pronouns for anyone other than armin.

warning: none ( i don’t think so anyway)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: there’s gonna be a second one of these at the bottom to talk about some of my head cannons lol. events in the story are not chronological! also, this is my first work on this account and this fandom so feel free to request! finally, i was listening to my armin playlist while writing this, here is the link for it! enjoy!

our coming of age has come and gone

Sapphire orbs you have watched harden over the years almost regress to their childlike softness when his eyes meet yours. Only yours. His confidence still fluctuates behind closed doors, but that’s when you get to see the Armin you fell in love with. The one you loved even without his successes and his commander title. The bravest man you know.

“Armin?” your voice carries to where your lover sits sifting through a plethora of files and reports from his subordinates. He is resting his forehead on a closed fist as he uses his other hand to keep his eyes focused on the words in front of him.

Armin hums in response bringing his tired eyes up to meet yours with a weak smile. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fight you off once you started pestering him to come to bed he puts a placeholder where he was reading and rises from his chair.

You meet him halfway even though you were just going to walk right back past where you were. Both of you did this, symbolic of how no matter what happens you’ll always meet each other halfway. Intertwining your hands you walk with him to your shared quarters.

you paint dreamscapes on the wall

You could listen to him forever. Armin always had a way of telling you about his research and discoveries that had you fully enthralled. However, as he was professing his love for the beautiful ocean waves, what he said next surprised you.

“If I had one wish, I would wish for nothing more than living by the seaside forever with you,” his eyes bore into yours with such sincerity and a hint of bashfulness. Your hand reaches up to caress his face, a doting smile gracing your lips as you lean in and press them to his. 

“I love you, Armin. Spending forever with you would be a dream.”

sit with you in the trenches

You watch chaos outbreak over Marley as Eren attacks. You had been assigned to the strategic and logistics team to remain on the blimp as the rumbling occurred. A flash of light directs your vision to the alarmingly tall colossal titan, your boyfriend, as he wrecks havoc by the port. 

Both of you didn’t want this. The destruction and death, both of you were tired of it. The only peace you had in these moments was knowing that the other was out there fighting alongside you. As the blimp swooped over to pick up Armin you waited by the door, ready to help him in. 

As soon as Armin looked up to you, you could see the pain and exhaustion hiding behind his eyes. His hand gripped yours tighter than normal as you pulled him inside and he didn’t let go after. Before he goes to report to Hange he drags you into a separate room in the blimp away from the public eye. As soon as he closes the door he pulls you tightly to his chest.

“I hate this,” he breathes. His face nuzzles into your neck, taking in your scent as it reminds him you’re here with him.

“I know ‘min, me too.” 

give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

The stars seemed to shine brighter than they ever had that fall night. However, Armin lies on the ground, eyes fixated on the one thing he cares about the most, you. You seem to shine brighter than anything he has ever had in his life, you even put the sun to shame. Oh how he wishes he could put into words how much he wants you to never leave his side. For months he has been rehearsing, writing drafts upon drafts on why he wants you in his life and bound to his soul forever. There are no words that could even come close to how much he loves you.

So, silently, Armin rises from his position. You are lost in the beauty and peace of the clear night, and fail to notice your boyfriend kneeling next to you with a pearl ring caged between his pointer finger and thumb. In his head he’s still swimming through ideas of what to say, how to let you know he loves you more than anything. But, as you turn your head to look at him, your wide eyes flickering between his desperate eyes and the ring in his hand, it tells you everything he feels and everything you need to know. 

“Yes!”

but i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm

You feel the weight of Armin’s hand on your shoulder. However you are too riled up by Floch’s words about your boyfriend to even process what the gesture means.

“You can keep your opinions to yourself Floch! A decision was made, who are you to determine if it was the right one?” You continue on the red on your face fueled by Floch’s disregard and respect for Armin’s life and his contribution to the scouts.

“Armin is the future of the scouts! He is the future of humanity! He is the bravest, smartest, most compassionate man I have ever known. So who are you to determine the worth of someone's life, when you aren’t even half of what he is?” Floch storms off after you finish your outburst. Armin’s hand falls from your shoulder to interlace with your hand. 

“Thank you (Y/N), I love you.”

if your cascade, ocean wave blues come

After the battle in Trost you felt traumatized. However, nothing would have prepared you for the death of your best friend, Mina. As the 104th cadet corps were funneled back to their barracks you were in a daze. It wasn’t till you were alone on the steps of the barracks when you finally let it hit you.

Tears flooded out of your eyes as you bit your hand to keep the choked sobs silent as they jolted your body. You felt the body heat of someone next to you, eyes snapping up to reach his calm ocean blue ones.

“(Y/N),” he says, not in a judging or questioning way, but a way to bring you back to the present. Armin had always looked out for you. Even though you weren’t as close, and tended to stay with different crowds you had always admired him. That night he sat with you, sometimes in silence, sometimes listening to you reminisce about old memories with the people you’d lost. From time to time he would share his memories and thoughts. A silent promise was made that night, that even if you would never have peace, you would have each other. And that was enough.

would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

a/n:  i love the idea that armin, who always has so much to say is speechless when asking the love of his life to stay with him forever. like he feels like he could talk forever and never even reach anywhere close to how much he loves them. anyway i also head cannon that modern armin is 100% a swiftie and i stand by that.

[cloveroctobers]

October prompts — 4. Jordan Baker ; All American

Prompt: ❛ get in loser, we’re going to spirit halloween. ❜

WARNINGS: mentions of mental illness and not the correct way to cope with it? + language ofc + dark comedy + corniness

A/N: this sat in my drafts for forever and I kept going back and forth with writing this. I’m not all that satisfied with it? Or at least the ending portion. Just know there won’t be a part two for this one lol but I’m excited for October 25th!

•*•*•*••*•*•*•*•*••*•*•*•*••*•*•*•*•*•**•*••*

You’ve been in a been in a funk since October hit and that wasn’t really expected of you

Actually it was more so around the end of September? If Jordan really thought about it but regardless

It was your birthday month and usually you celebrated the entire month but by day 3 jordan realized something was up

Usually it might take some time for it to click but once it did, Jordan was quick to address the issue

When he pressed you about your constant mopping you blamed it on Mercury ricochet or something you said !

Half of time jordan wasn’t sure what the hell you were talking about but that’s the thing, you were talking less and jordan began to wonder if he did or said something stupid to make you act this way

Until he realized this was around the usual time your SAD kicked in

Jordan tried to be understanding around the time you were diagnosed with this since it seemed like you didn’t have a great support system when it came to your family

Even your own grandmother who dealt with postpartum when she gave birth to your father tried to shame you and accuse you of, “making this up for attention”

Which wasn’t healthy and just plain ignorance and not something you needed

It was the first time Jordan’s ever seen you break down before

And the bakers suggested you move in with them for awhile but your grandmother and father weren’t having it—so it appeared that way

Your father didn’t have a backbone when it came to your grandmother since it felt like he blamed himself for the way his mother felt after he was born

So he let her get away with talking to you reckless until Laura threatened that she would get social services involved if they didn’t allow you to take a break from what was supposed to be your safe space

Your grandmother was a woman from the south and didn’t take to threats lightly and was definitely ready to whoop ass at Laura’s entitlement

However you were your father’s child and he wanted to take care of you and if this could be beneficial to you, then so be it

So you lived with the baker’s for a couple of months until your grandmother passed and your father needed your support in return

While you came to his aide you were struggling to heal on your own when you didn’t need to

Things would be great and then they would get extremely low for a couple of months, that’s how it usually worked

It all rolled in quickly since there was so much going on but Jordan didn’t like to make it seem like he was keeping track of you, that would seem too controlling? Obsessive? And that was the last thing he wanted to be to you

He didn’t catch you before you left school and he even asked Reggie if he’s seen you in which he replied that he tried to offer you a ride home in class but you declined so he took that a little personally since you basically dissed him and his one true love—his car

Reggie was a trip but it came with the football territory

Jordan couldn’t even hate Reggie every time he flirted with you because that was all just a front. Most of the guys on the team weren’t complete assholes, sure they had a good percentage but underneath all that testosterone they were sorta good guys

Except for like 3 of them, 3 of the guys were major dicks and deserved to be cancelled

Anyways, Jordan make it his mission to find you before Reggie got any bright ideas and pulled up on you walking home, headphones in your ears, gaze someplace far far away

It took jordan to leave his hands on the horn to get you to jump back and go to kick his car but you realized who was trying to get your attention

You pulled mereba from playing in your ear to stare at jordan awaiting, “what?”

“Get in loser, we’re going to spirit Halloween.” His eyes crinkled as he said this to you

The fatigue in you took minutes to register this, “Jordan…what’re you talking about?”

“Why go home when we can do something much more entertaining and spooky?” He wiggled his fingers at you

You yawned, “eh, I just wanna crash.”

“But you love spirit Halloween.”

“I’m just not feeling it, J.”

Jordan bargained with you, “okay, okay. Just get in, I’ll drive us around, sing you a lullaby and maybe take you home.”

“Yeah…that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

“You’ve known me for how many years?”

“That’s my point, dummy.”

“You know I’m trying to do something nice for my best friend but instead they insult me.”

You shrugged with a sigh before Jordan unlocked the doors for you, leaning forward to push the door open for you

Slowly you walked over to the car and sat down, strapping yourself in and throwing your head back

Jordan nodded his head back, “just relax, let the breeze flow through your hair and enjoy the ride. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Little did you know, it would be

In the middle of nowhere they had set up a spirit Halloween in pretty sketchy area, no shock there. You drove a solid 45 minutes from the hills to some small county area where you saw a jack in the box which was probably a good ten miles from where spirit Halloween sat in a plaza all by itself

The parking lot was not full, at all. There were four, maybe five cars in the lot but the bright lights did shift your energy a bit as your eyes set on the skeleton next to the sign

“Looks like we’re first in line.” Jordan poked your cheek which you slapped his hand away as he chuckled at your reaction

“You sure we won’t be the only ones? What time does this place even close?”

Jordan checked his Apple Watch, “doesn’t matter. It’s four pm and it’s ours, let’s go!”

He hopped out of the car and ran through the parking lot, leaving you to slowly follow after the tall teen. He spun backwards, almost tripping over the curb as he wiggled his fingers at you, taunting you to catch up

You leaped onto the curb and went to shove at jordan’s shoulders, laughing as you both now walked side by side with Jordan locking his car before heading to the sliding doors

It smelled like strong cinnamon candles in the entry way and the carpet felt rough underneath your shoes before you hit the tile

Your eyes were wider than before taking in the large figures that towered over both you and Jordan in the entry way and Jordan jumped up to send a playful punch to the figure

“Don’t break anything, I exceeded my credit limit this month and don’t have any money to pay for you this time.”

“This isn’t about me babe, this is about having the time of your life tonight.” He winked while you rolled your eyes

He tossed an arm over your shoulder leading you to a pathway as you glanced around at the scenery and for any sign of people or at least workers but found none

The both of you came up to a pathway which was covered in smoke with a sign that said, “high voltage” as you walked through

“Ready to get shocked to life?” Jordan glanced at you stopping a few spaces in front of it

“Um no? do you have a pain kink that you want to talk to me about?”

“Har har, three!”

Three? You thought to yourself but didn’t have the time to process this as jordan slipped his hand down to place in yours and quickly pulled you forward and man did he have power in those arms?

“Jordan!” You yelped as your vision was filled with puffs of gray and the air became windy and almost difficult to breathe

Just as soon as the rush hit you it was over with Jordan erupting in laughter as the both of you now stood outside of it

You soon fell into laughter too but not without sending another shove Jordan’s way, your hand going to your chest to calm your rapid heartbeat

Soon you took the lead going to the aisles to see multiple trinkets from literal jigsaw puzzles, decorations, cups, silverware, masquerade masks, Black Plague themes, and much more

Just as the both of you were walking over to where the costume aisles were the eerie spooky music cut off and shortly so did the lights

Immediately you turned to Jordan who looked around as he was still standing in the middle of the floor, “hey! What’s going on?” He asked

Suddenly the sound of something rattling caused you to look towards the front entrance which you could see if you stepped towards where jordan stood

Your breath got caught in your throat as you watched the front entrance get completely covered by a gate locking the both of you in place

“Jordan…what the hell is this?” You gritted

Jordan swallowed, “I—I don’t know. But standing around here isn’t going to solve anything. We should find the workers? Maybe they’re closing early?”

He took a step away from you towards the front entrance where the registers sat towards the right but you gripped his hand pulling him back, “that sounds very unlikely considering we haven’t seen anybody since we walked in here. I say we go to the back and go out that way.”

Jordan didn’t argue still glancing around as it was your turn to pull him along, just as your heart was getting steady it was picking up again as you sped-walked through the aisles

It wasn’t until you were moving towards the back of the store, that jordan gripped your waist yanking you to the side as the both of you tumbled to the floor

You pulled your body away from jordan to look up at him wildly and his eyes were wide as he panted. He placed a shaky finger up to his lips to silence you and you waited

You listened to the creaking of what sounded like bones rubbing together as something began crawling by

You bit back a scream as you watched it’s legs and arms that were arched like a tarantula in black clothing pull its body by

Jordan had to place another hand on top of your mouth to help you be quiet as suddenly it’s head turned on your direction, it’s dingy yellow skin appeared as if it was melting from its face with red glowing eyes

However it did not see you, in fact it looked right over before crawling along

The both of you waited a good minute for it to be far from where the both of you sat before you scrambled to your feet to the back of the store

You wasted no time making sure the door was secured before you were met with the bodies of the workers who were slumped over

“Are they dead?” You shifted on your feet as Jordan shoved his hands into his jeans looking for his phone 

“The hell was that?” Jordan didn’t seem to care that there were other people who could or could not be dead in the room with you right now

You reached upwards to slap Jordan’s head to get some sense out of him and he winced as he met your eyes, “Jordan, I don’t know what that was but if you’re pranking me—

“What? Why would I go to this extreme to get a laugh?”

“Have you met yourself?”

“Um, I’m taking full offense to that!”

“Why are you yelling? That fucking thing might find us!”

“You’re the one accusing me of making this whole thing up…are they alive?”

You whipped your head away from bickering with your friend and moved over to the group of employees, you wanted to use your foot to nudge them but found yourself slipping on a substance that made you slide across the floor instead

You stumbled trying to find footing as you fell onto your stomach. Soreness fell over your body as jordan rushed over to you attempting to help you as you lifted yourself

The stench hit you first before you noticed the blood and when you did you let out a uncontrolled scream with Jordan trying to shush you but that didn’t work

It was the the pounding on the door that got you to stop.

“We’re gonna end up like spirits and it’s not even Halloween yet.” You cried

Jordan sighed, “we’re not giving up yet, are we?”

“What can we do? Did you see that thing? The way it was walking? Like it was doing the jerk but forwards like it’s 2009 all over again.”

“so walking forwards with broken arms and legs?”

“Shut up, Jordan.”

You took deep breaths calming yourself down while jordan kept trying to get his phone and watch to work but was met with no signal

A thud sounded as if it jumped onto the door and you got up, “we’re getting out of here. I’m not dying before Halloween.”

Jordan turned his eyes into slits but held back on commenting as you began jogging down the hallway with Jordan cautiously glancing back at the door and the workers

Well this one will be a story for the books, if you make it out that is.

*•*•*•*•*••*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*••*•*••*•

Continue along with my October anthology prompts here

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 1 - The Elevator

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None for this chapter

Word Count - 1981

Square Filled - Moodboard ( @girl-next-door-writes )

A/N - *Cracks knuckles* Ta-daaaa! The series is finally here it's already Sunday where I live and I was dying to share this! It's going to be a wild ride ahead. So buckle up your seatbelts and enjoy the ride!

This is also my submission to @flamencodiva's Writing Challenge and @deanwanddamons' 2K Blogiversary challenge (congratulations on your milestone, Sian). Prompts are in bold.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thanks again, hon❤️)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Throwing her bag over the table, Y/N slumped down on the couch, letting out a sigh. The pressure from the higher-ups, consistent criticism of your work and impending deadlines were weighing heavily on her shoulders and she was in a desperate need of a break.

She looked over to the stack of papers on the table that now lay abandoned. The rejection from the publishing company was the fucking cherry on top. Y/N buried her face in her hands in frustration as she was almost on the verge of a mental breakdown, a few angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Letting her head fall back, she swiped away those angry tears, letting out a long sigh of defeat.

“Why can't I ever do anything right?” She mumbled, her breathing heavy as she bit down on her trembling lips.

In her late twenties, after a nasty break up, Y/N had a marvellous thought that she needed a fresh start. So she had left her corporate job back in Atlanta and moved to New York to pursue her dreams of becoming a writer. She had secured a good position in one of the leading magazine companies and started to write the novel that she had been planning since she was seventeen, but lately nothing seemed to work out the way she wanted. Sure, she was getting paid well but it wasn't enough compared to how much she had to deal with her shitty coworkers and bosses. She had now lost every motivation to continue her novel after the first draft got rejected by the publishing companies enough times to make her feel insecure about her writing.

“Why can't my life just be a goddamn Hallmark movie?” Y/N muttered under her breath as she picked up a cushion and covered your face, letting out a muffled scream.

Her wallowing time was interrupted by the blaring noise of her phone in the awfully quiet apartment, making her nearly jump out of her skin. Another frustrated groan left her lips as she saw the person calling her.

“I told you to stop calling me, for god's sake!” Y/N yelled into her phone.

“Come on, Y/N. One dinner.” The man on the other end pestered. “You know, at work people talk about how uptight you are. Let yourself go, once in a while.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Michael- I'm not interested. I told you a hundred times before and I'll say it again. Leave. Me. Alone!” She said. The line on the other side went quiet.

“Bitch.” She heard him say before the call disconnected.

“Fuck off!” She yelled again, knowing fully well he couldn't have heard her now. Y/N finally decided to put him in her blocklist because Michael didn't seem like he was gonna stop otherwise.

It wasn't that she had a stick up her ass for not wanting to go on a dinner date with her coworker. Honestly, she missed the whole first date experience, but Michael was definitely not the guy for her, or for any other girls out there in her opinion. He threw around sexist comments around the office like it was some cool shit and chivalry was definitely dead for him.

Y/N finally got up from her seat, shoulders still tense from the day's events. Opening the refrigerator, she stood there gawking at the leftovers in it.

“Cold pizza….spaghetti….chocolate brownies….” She looked at your dinner options, weighing each one's pros and cons before settling on - “Brownies it is.”

Taking out the chocolate confection , she returned to the couch. She put on Netflix as she browsed through it's movie section.

“Stupid Prince Charming-” she scoffed, biting into the delicious the chocolate chip brownie in hand. Grumbling at the unrealistic standards of Netflix rom coms, she still pressed the play on the film The Proposal.

Finishing her 'dinner', Y/N picked up the comforter, nestling deep into her couch as she watched the coldhearted Margaret fall head over heels for her assistant, the exhaustion kicked in.

“Fuck!”

And that's how the next morning started as Y/N woke up one hour later than usual. She had fallen into a deep sleep on her couch before Andrew even got to propose to Margaret, which was not exactly the wisest decision as the next morning, her neck and back screaming in pain.

The girl knew she was going to be late to work today by the time she had left the house. Hair up in a messy bun, a bag hanging from her shoulder, she tried to smoothen down the creases on her skirt before rushing towards the elevator in high heels.

“Hold the door!” She yelled at the man inside as soon as the door started to close. She sprinted towards the elevator as the man kept looking at her, an annoyed look evident on his face when he slammed the button, taking a step forward to keep the door from closing.

“Thank you!” Y/N huffed, as she got in the elevator. The man chose to remain silent and he pressed the ground button on the elevator. “I am so screwed today! I have never been this late to work!” She babbled on but the man still maintained the stoic look on his face. Y/N slightly turned to face the man of stone. He was probably in his thirties, his dirty blonde hair, sparkling green eyes and light stubble on his cheeks went very well with the crisp grey suit he was wearing. One hand in his pocket, he just stood there, jaw clenched together, eyes focused on the shut doors.

“You know, I should have set the alarm! Stupid-”

“Do you ever shut up?” The man finally spoke, a look of disinterest passing his face.

“Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me?” His voice was hard.

“I said, someone woke up-”

“I heard what you said. I am just not interested in listening to your morning fuck-up story.” He scoffed.

“Woah, okay.” She widened her eyes at his disrespectful comment, “I just-” The elevator reached the ground floor of their apartment building and the doors opened with a ‘ding’.

“I think you don't want to waste anymore time talking since you're already running late.” Y/N gasped slightly at the audacity of the man. “Have a good day, Miss L/N.” The man wished before moving out of the confined space as Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and wondered how he knew her name.

“Have a good day as well, Mr….” She trailed off as she got out of the vator as well.

“Dean Winchester.” He said as he walked away, never once looking back as Y/N stood there, bewildered at what just happened.

Hands balled up into fists in apprehension, Y/N inhaled audibly, as she stood on the other side of the door. She was late to the meeting by half an hour, twenty-four minutes to be precise and nothing annoyed her boss more than tardiness.

“Y/N, it's a pleasure that you finally graced this meeting with your presence on this fine morning.” Abaddon’s words laced with acute sarcasm made it quite clear that Y/N was doomed when she entered the room. The remaining four pairs of eyes in the room were zeroed in on her, as she abashedly took a seat at the far-end of the table. She couldn't risk her job because of her smartass mouth and she was already on thin ice, so she kept quiet and let Abaddon carry on with the meeting cause even Cruella De Vil would be hiding her face in shame if she ever met Abaddon. She was an Umbridge before her coffee and a Regina George after drinking her coffee. There was no way she was going to spare the poor girl today.

“As I was pointing out, our sales have gone down in recent months quite drastically. Readers are saying the contents are not relatable or entertaining enough….”

A yawn threatened to leave Y/N as she listened to Abaddon go on about the poor performance of the company, her mind preoccupied by a certain green-eyed man. She had never seen Dean in the building before this morning. He was annoyingly good looking and rude and Y/N couldn't seem to get rid of the image of him looking dapper in that grey suit. She was barely able to focus on what Abaddon was saying.

With Dean Winchester still running through her mind, Y/N trudged back to her small cubicle after the painfully hour long meeting.

Plopping down on the chair, covering her face with her hands, she exclaimed, “I need coffee!”

“Thank me later.” She turned her head to Meg as she pushed a hot cup of coffee towards her before going back to her own cubicle.

“Black, just like my heart.” She said before inhaling the strong smell of the drink. Taking a little sip, she let out a sigh of content. “Jesus, I needed this badly.”

“Yeah, you look like shit,” Meg chuckled, earning a glare from her friend. “Did you even take a look at the mirror today? Honestly, I am not even exaggerating, I-”

“Meg, I’ll forever be grateful to you for this cup of coffee, but please stop talking.” Y/N groaned loudly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Michael walking towards her and put on headphones and turning the volume up, trying to look busy. “Heads up, incoming douchebag.” The brunette said. After the hubbub of the morning and the shitshow of a meeting, Michael was the last person Y/N wanted to see.

“Morning, Y/N.” The smug smile on his face made her cringe. This had been going on for a month now. She thought after last night, Michael would finally back down, but apparently she was very wrong. “My messages don't seem to get through anymore.”

“She blocked you. God, take a hint.” Meg muttered.

“She's right. It's ‘cause you can’t seem to take no for an answer.” Y/N huffed.

“One dinner. Just one.”

“No.”

“She said no. Isn't that enough?” Meg jumped to her friend’s rescue when she saw her fumbling and getting uncomfortable. Michael inched towards Y/N anyway, completely ignoring his colleague’s comment, a smirk evident on his face.

“Y/N, don't be so uptight. What harm does a single dinner gonna do?” He asked.

“It’ll be cheating. I have a boyfriend.” Y/N blurted out, making Meg’s eyes go wide, but it actually seemed to work as Michael moved away from her.

“A boyfriend?”

“Yeah. We have been going out for a while now.” The said man frowned as he thought the words over before leaving her space with a little nod of his head. Maybe it worked on him without any hassle, but she knew this lie would come back to bite her in the ass if the whole office got to know about it. Oh, and they would know since turning around, Y/N saw Ruby staring at her, a grin appearing on her face as she took in all the juicy gossip. The lie was now gonna spread like wildfire.

“Spill.” Y/N turned to look at her friend who stood there, hands folded, eyes wide, brows raised in utter disbelief. She puckered her lips as she waited on Y/N to explain who just frowned in reply. “Well? What happened? I want all the details, Y/N!”

“Oh come on, L/N. Share the deets.” Ruby snickered. “Who's the man that actually managed to capture your heart?”

“Dean Winchester.” The name tumbled out of her lips so easily and that was how she knew she was screwed.

Chapter 2

Feedback is highly appreciated!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

[lifeofkaze]

Leave it up to Tumblr to not show me notifications XD

Can I have for Dante and Reva and for canon Lizzie and Orion the following: 25,40,45💙

Leave it to me to put stuff into my drafts and then forget about it! 😅😅😅

25) Pick a physical attribute that they love about each other.

answered here for both of them 💛

40) What do they do when they miss one another? Is one more needy than the other/s?

Lizion: Lizzie is definitely the more upfront needy one and she will voice that she misses Orion. Orion is more on the quiet side, but his lingering hugs that seem to last forever when they meet again speak for themselves.

Revante: Reva doesn't like it when things don't go after her mind and not seeing Dante when she wants to see Dante is very much part of that. Seeing as they're all great and modern kids, she'll just either head over to his bar, or when either of them is too far away she'd video call him, anyplace, anywhere, anytime. Girl knows no shame 😂

@the-al-chemist can speak for Dante if she likes?

45) Are they good at comforting one another? Does someone hide their feelings usually?

Lizion: Over the years, Orion has learned that when Lizzie stops speaking about her feelings, he needs to pay extra close attention. Lizzie, in turn, has learned when to give Orion the space he needs to figure himself out. So yes, I'd say both of them have learned what the other needs when something is not alright.

Revante: See, Reva is not the most subtle or sensitive of persons. She never means to, but she is just very loud and not that good with the gentle kind of emotions. 😅 She will try to listen to Dante if he wants to share what is bothering him. If not, she will try hard (very hard, have mercy on his poor soul) to cheer him up, no matter what.

[bearlytolerant]

Pace and Ortega prompt maybe? 👀 When they talk to me about things that reminds them of me.

Fandom: Fallen Hero Series

Pairing: Pacey x Ortega (Chargestep)

Rating: T

Word Count: 1335

AO3

Let Go

Coconut and chocolate. Who eats that without the little almonds? What is it without the slight crunch? That third flavor? Especially if you’re going to choose that over any other candy bar. Ortega peels back the wrapper, takes the first bite and it’s weird and soft and not what he likes in a candy bar.

But it’s not about the candy bar.

Her hair was as red as the wrapper last time they hung out at this place. A dark, dank hole-in-the-wall bar on a karaoke night. She was spinning, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Spinning and dancing and taking bites out of her stupid, disgusting Mounds bar. She’d played acoustic and sang all the wrong lyrics to Riptide. The irony not lost on him. All that was before—

“I thought you hated those.”

They're the only ones in the bar other than the bartender working somewhere in the back. Too early for the regulars.

Ortega glances up at her, his bar half eaten now. Her hair a pretty baby blue and shorter and he likes the way it’s still blunt but not even. One side hanging half in front of her face, accentuating that curve of her jaw as she stares at him or the tip of his ear at least, dull green eyes lined with dark circles. Though, it's hard to tell in the dim light. Usually she hides that behind a layer of makeup. Hides that she’s not sleeping—or not well anyway. And she hasn’t smiled at him. Not like before.

He slides the second candy bar her way.

“I used to,” he says.

“Used to. You say it like you didn’t judge me every time I ate one. What made you change your mind?” Her fingers—nails bitten down to the quicks—pluck the candy bar up and hesitate before cracking into it.

She used to keep her nails filed and painted with little stripes or stars. A bit of chipped paint remains on the middle finger of her right hand. At least she still paints them sometimes.

“You,” he says.

“Me?” She takes a bite out of the bar, chocolate already smearing at the corner of her mouth.

Another piece of her old self. Messy spills and ease of presence. Was it part of the charm or part of an act?

He braves a touch. Something new for them. Another shift. Just a small one. A gentle, methodical placement of his thumb.

“You got a little—“ He stretches, reaching.

She watches, waiting. Holding her breath.

He thumbs away the chocolate. Captures her gaze. Much is unchanged and somehow she seems unreal. But her skin is so warm.

Alive.

“Ricardo. I think you got it.”

He withdraws reluctantly. Clears his throat. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Why don’t you just say it.”

“Say what?” He throws his hands up in his defense.

“Whatever it is you're thinking. I know you want to say something.”

“I missed you. That’s all.”

“Missed me? I don’t—“

“Look. It wasn’t easy for me when I thought you were—“

“Dead.”

“Yeah. That.”

“So you consoled yourself with Mounds bars? No wonder you’ve gotten a little thicker.”

“Jealous, I've got a bigger ass than you?” he retorts. It comes easy, the exchange of friendly fire and he can almost forget that she was ever gone.

“You’re so stupid.”

There it is, that hint of a smile, like she wants to be happy but it fades as quick as it comes. Slivers of sadness waver in her eyes and in the quiver of her bottom lip.

“I’m starting to think you really like stupid.”

“Don’t kid yourself.” She takes another bite and that sadness slips away.

“For what it’s worth, they reminded—remind me of you. You were always eating them. Always getting them for people even though everyone hates them.”

“That picture you have painted of me in your head must be real pretty.”

“Could never compare to the real thing.”

With a scoff and a roll of her eyes she slides the rest of the candy bar out and crushes the wrapper in her hand. Tosses it towards the trash bin near the bar and sinks it in.

“Wanna know a secret?” Pace leans in closer and he has a mind to kiss her chocolate smudged lips.

He leans in closer too. “Yeah.”

“When your fave candy bar is one everyone hates, you never have to worry about your favorite things getting stolen.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She laughs. Really laughs. Eyes lighting up like morning dew on the grass. Then she quiets down, expression relaxed and almost content. They both take their final bite. She swallows and the steady melody of a song he doesn’t quite know reverberates through his body.

“Not as dumb as eating a candy bar to remember someone by.”

“What would you rather I do? Snuggle up in your old Sidestep fanclub merchandise?”

“Yes. Eating spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream with one hand and downing energy drinks with the other, sobbing on the couch, while Criminal Minds plays on the TV in the background.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint. Besides, you only like period dramas,” Ortega says.

“I hate that you know this about me. And I hope you never tell a soul.”

“Never,” Ortega says with a grin.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Scouts honor—“

“Have you ever even been a scout?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” She glances towards the tinted window and runs her fingers through her hair. “It’s all just words anyway.”

He also crumples up his candy wrapper. He turns and shoots his shot at the bin but it bricks off the rim and tumbles to the floor.

“Ah, so close.” A cluck of her tongue. “What a shame. Better luck next time.”

“So there will be a next time.” He smirks.

“Isn’t there always?”

“Hard to keep away, huh?”

“Incorrigible.”

“And you’re evading.”

“It’s what I do best.”

“Ah, but I thought you weren’t Sidestep anymore?”

A frustrated growl and her hands smack the table, shoving her chair back. Stands on her feet, pacing near the exit. She rubs her arms incessantly like a draft suddenly blew in.

He stands too and goes to her, reaching out to take her hands and hold them. She can’t or won’t meet his gaze this time. Keeps herself half hidden in the haven of her hair.

“I hate when you push me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You’re doing it again. Prying, pulling, pushing and then laughing at me. Teasing, maybe taunting. I don’t know. Whatever the fuck this game is.”

“Game? And it’s not at you—“

“And you know all the right things to say that leave me all mixed up and inside out and I hate–I hate it. It’s complicated and it sucks.”

“I don’t mean to—“

“Just shut up and let me try to say this. To say that I like you—being with you and yeah—it is hard to keep away. It’s especially hard when you get my stupid candy bars and eat them with me when you don’t even like them. When you find ways to make me feel perceived and wanted and—gah—“ She swallows the next word.

“Pace I—“

His sentence is static as she breaks free from his hands and cups his face. Greets him with warm lips pressing into his and he’s reactionary. Hands wrapping around her waist and tugging her in closer, parting her lips with his tongue and allowing this moment that he’s waited forever for. She still tastes like chocolate and coconut but it’s good like this. Real good. Not as a candy bar but like this. A little weird. And a whole lot of sweet, soft, and delightful lips.

She pulls away too fast. Too soon.

He’s left a bit baffled. His heart a bit bruised.

“Valuable,” she whispers like it’s some sort of curse.

Then she sidesteps away and slips out the exit.

[americasmarauders]

American Pie--Jason Todd.

author’s note: this has been on my drafts for an eternity. I finished this out of pure self-pressure and shame instileld by a tag game @batarella tagged me. I literally finished this in the treadmill, which I found is my favorite place to write.I wanna thank @batarella and @offendedfishnoises for being real troopers and encouraging me and proofreading this. 

words: 2284

Beware: curse words (cause i’m a potty mouth), Jason being a shy pinning boy. I reccomend you listen to (or at least look at the lyrics for) American Pie by Don McLean and OUr Song by Taylor Swift.

Silence.

         Excruciating silence. That was what Jason remembered from death.

         He remembered thinking ‘This will be the day that I die,’ before the world turning black and silence overtook his entire being killing what was left of his soul.

         After that it is all he remembered: silence.

        He used to think music was everything. When he was bored, he used to bolt out to the most random songs in his room at the Wayne Manor, to the point of an angry Bruce storming to his room and quietly turning down the volume.

        It took him a while to look fondly at those memories, and he still wasn’t sure if he did look at them like that. He was at the point of just thinking of them as just that: memories so far away from who he was, he considered them to belong to a different person entirely.

        Music just didn’t hold the same wonder and joy as it did. Jason didn’t belt out whatever song he wanted anymore, he just idly stood by as any song came on whatever radio he was listening while he waited on his patrols.

        It was like the music died with him.

        He sipped his drink as a light jazzy tune sounded in the background of his mind. He didn’t pay any attention to it, rather he was engrossed in his own sorrow to listen to any of the diner’s songs.

        He hummed in indifference, looking up from his cup and looking around. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the diner was mostly empty. There was a girl in the back, messing with the jukebox. Jason took a good look at her.

        She was wearing a plaid skirt, with a bright orange cropped blouse. She wore her hair loose. She looked too engrossed in her song choice to realize anyone looking at her. He glanced at the table next to her: filled with books and old cups he assumed were once filled with coffee.

        He heard an angry curse and saw her shaking aggressively the jukebox. “You, know,” he spoke up, “I’m not an expert on jukeboxes or anythin’ but I’m pretty sure that’s not how they work.”

        She looked at him bewildered. She narrowed her eyes at him, almost as if she were trying to dissect him in a split second. “This machine swallowed my quarter and will not let me select a song.”

        He abandoned his cup and got up, heading towards the weird lady. “Let me see if I can help.”

        She stepped aside and left room for him to see what happened. “By all means.”

        He quickly analyzed it. He glanced at the woman next to him, her arms crossed over her chest, meticulously analyzing what Jason was doing. He hit the spot next to the coin slot and heard the coin going down the mechanism. He got up and said: “There. All fixed.”

        “I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been trying forever to get this thing to work and you come here and just make it work in seconds.” She turned to the jukebox and muttered, “Don’t you love me anymore, you silly machine?”

        Jason laughed. “I’m Jason,” he said, extending his hand.

        She took it and shook it. “I’m Y/N.”

        “Well,” Jason stated awkwardly, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

        “No, wait!” she said. “Sit with me. I see you’re there all alone, and I need someone to listen to my thesis,” she explained. “You seem like a nice guy, you know? What do you say? I’ll buy you a milkshake,” she smiled.

        Jason pondered. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. And maybe a little company would do him well. She seemed perfectly nice, albeit a little weird. Why not?

        “What are you working on?” he said, sitting opposite to where she was.

        She smiled and went on and on about her research. To be completely honest, Jason only understood about half of what she was saying, and every time he made a funny face she would pause and patiently explain it again until his face melted into something resembling understanding. She would smile at him, and his heart hiccupped every time she did.

        She bought him a drink, and they stayed at the diner for a while. Jason discovered she wasn't from Gotham--not that it was hard to see, she had invited a complete stranger to sit with her in a shady diner in one of the worst neighborhoods of the city. She was a student, getting her master's in something too complicated to explain in the hours they spent together. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she talked about her research. Jason liked that.

        He offered to walk her home. She refused. He smiled and gave her a knowing look. "Listen, I'm sure you know Gotham ain't a safe city,” he said. "Imagine it at night," he should know. He was a witness and victim of the horrors of Gotham.

        She budged. He carried her books for her. She seemed grateful. She tried the whole afternoon to get him to talk about himself. Jason didn't want to scare her off, so he gave her the bare minimum. Do you have a degree? No, but I'd like to. What do you do? I'm a freelancer. Do you have any siblings? No.

        Looking back at the moment she stood in front of her building, lit by streetlights, eyes twinkling with something Jason wouldn't recognize until much later, he knew he should have kissed her. He shouldn't have held her at arm’s length for so long. Alas, he had. He didn't kiss her. She says he was a perfect gentleman. He knows that. It doesn't mean he doesn't have regrets.

        She gave him her phone number. "I liked talking to you. If you're ever around the diner again, call me. I'll save all the good stuff for you," she winked. He laughed. He saved her phone number as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It kinda was.

 #

#

He texted her. He went to the diner, intentionally. He had to see her.

        No, he didn't. He didn't have to see her. If he didn't, it would have been another 'what if' of his life. He would survive, and maybe regret that he had chosen what he had chosen. The difference was he wanted to see her. And he hadn't done something he wanted in a very long time.

        He was the first to arrive. He sat by the window, looking at the city. The sun was setting, there was an orange glow illuminating the diner. He awkwardly fiddled with his straw, stirring the milkshake (strawberry as always, he wasn't an animal like Tim) calmly. He heard the bell ringing.

        She walked in and Jason swore she was an angel. The light hugged her, and he thought she was there to save him. Save him from himself, from the nightmares, from his job, from his trauma. She smiled at him and he was goner. Second time seeing her and he was gone. He fell for her.

        She was wearing glasses, her hair tied, sweatpants and a Gotham University t-shirt. Her bag hung from her shoulder, her hand wrapped tightly around the strap.  She wasn’t nowhere near as dressed up as last time he saw her. It didn't matter. She was beautiful either way. She fixed her glasses as she sat in front of him.

        She ordered some tea, and Jason thought who orders tea in a diner. She did. Y/N was extraordinary that way.  She said she had thought about him. He somehow believed her. He smiled back at her and sipped his milkshake.

        “I brought you something,” she said. She dug through her purse and took out a book.  She slid it to him over the table. His hands unfurled from his cup and grabbed it. His eyes skimmed over the hardcover. Shakespeare’s Sonnets. A rare edition at that. “I think you might've read it already,” she shrugged. “You mentioned you liked Shakespeare. I was walking through a book shop near the University and I saw this edition and I thought of you.”

        Jason flipped through the book, the smell of dust filing his senses. That was the smell of a good book. A book that had seen many lives. He loved it. He looked at her, her eyes expecting a reaction of him. He offered her a shy smile. She took it and her smile was so bright it almost blinded him. “Thank you. I—I— It’s very thoughtful of you.”

        “You’re welcome, Jason,” she replied. “I thought you would like it.”

        “Yeah,” he breathed out. He held back once again. He wanted to tell her that he loved it.  That it was probably one of the best gifts he had ever received. “I liked it.”

        She reclined on the seat and smirked. “It’s quiet here, isn’t it?” she said.  Jason looked at her quizzically, his hands resting on the book. He saw her get up from her seat, a coin on her hand. She put the quarter on the jukebox and selected a song. She seemed proud of herself as Jason watched her with nothing but wonder. She sat in front of him again, as a piano played on the background and a voice of a man sounded through the tune.

        “I love this song,” she stated. “Don’t you?”

        Jason shrugged. “I don’t know it.”

        She was shocked. “You don’t? That’s a first. Someone that doesn’t know ‘American Pie’.”

        “Isn’t that a movie?” he asked. With the limited popular culture knowledge he had, he still knew some things.

        “Yes it is, but it was a song before that. By Don McLean. 1971,” she hummed with the tune. “It’s like poetry.”

        He gave her a funny face. “I hardly think it’s like poetry.”

        She gasped, pretending to be offended. “Betrayal,” she whispered, but soon after she smiled. “It’s because you’re not appreciating it enough,” she answered. She grabbed another quarter of her purse and got up. She pointed to him as she walked to the jukebox. “Listen to it and pay attention.”

        “Fine,” Jason huffed. He didn’t want to tell her that his appreciation for music had died with him. Not yet.

        He listened to it. Really did. Truthfully, he hadn’t understood a single word of what he meant, but Y/N seemed happy that at least he had somewhat liked the song. It was catchy. But he would hardly classify it as poetry. 

        "I'll convince you. Music is everything," she said. 

        So it began her quest to culture Jason, as she called it. He found it endearing to say the least. His judgement was seriously clouded. 

        She would send recommendations to him, writing extensively how these songs were everything to her. Because of that Jason would pay extra attention to it. 

        It felt strangely personal to listen to them with them in mind. It was like listening to a part of her soul. It might as well be that. She was entrusting him with a part of her, and he wasn't exactly worthy of that. 

        He felt dangerously unprotected around her. Jason was constantly toying with the line between keeping up his eccentric bad boy façade and opening his heart to her. Who was he kidding? He already had opened his heart to her. He just hadn't told her yet. He didn't know if he was going to. 

        Reading the sonnets suddenly felt extremely personal too. It wasn't about appreciating art anymore. He was living the love poems. He was feeling everything Shakespeare was describing. Desperation rose in him the first time he realized that. 

        How was he supposed to continue with his job--oh God, his job--when there was someone out there that cared if he was dead or alive? How was he going to blackmail a drug lord when he himself could be blackmailed? What was he going to say to Bruce? What was he supposed to do?

        A soft pop song played on the radio. They were going through pop songs now. Y/N had said it was imperative that he'd listen to Taylor Swift. And Jason could admit she had a point. 

        As he drove through the quiet highway, his hand itched to hold hers. They were driving to Metropolis. She had said there was an exhibit that they couldn't miss. A science exhibit. Jason didn't care for science, but she did, and seeing her with that glint in her eyes was the best part of his day. 

        Fuck it, he thought. His hand left the shift and encapsulated hers. He could feel her gaze on him, he knew she was smiling. His heart almost jumped out of his chest. Thank God, he was alive. 

        She turned down the volume of the song. His eyes shifted to hers for a second, her expression neutral. "What's wrong?" He said, his voice bordering desperation. 

        "We don't have a song," she said, quietly. "We don't have a song," she repeated. 

        Jason's worry dissipated into thin air, and he opened a smile. "Of course we do."

        "How? I don't remember ever--" she trailed off, looking confused at him. His eyes once again went to her, his smile soft. 

        "How about laughs, the soft sound of cars outside? The jazzy tune you always play on the fucking jukebox," he heard her laugh, his hands squeezed hers. "Reciting poems, you rambling about whatever you discovered? Huh?" he hummed. "That's our song."

        She smiled at him one again. And that was when he knew what he was supposed to do. 

        He was supposed to live. And he was going to live with her by his side. 

author’s note: here is the link to my masterlist and  the link to my jason playlist

[diavolodigitale]

Heart of Stone

Cullen + red lyrium = the Big Sad

One of the favourites of mine when it comes to my own works. I absolutely loved writing it so I do hope it will find its reader one day.

Genres: Angst, Drama, Dark, Deviates From Canon, Hurt, Mental Health Issues

Pairing: Male Inquisitor Lavellan & Cullen Rutherford, (optional) Male Inquisitor Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford

Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Male Inquisitor Lavellan, Varric Tethras, Cassandra Pentaghast, Solas, Cole, Vivienne 

Rating: M for Might be disturbing for some readers

Size: around 18 pages

THE PAIRING IS OPTIONAL! This work is not intended to contain the pairing male!Lavellan/Cullen, but I am also completely fine if somebody chooses to read it that way. 

The numbers in the text stand for the songs in my playlist you have to listen to while reading to get a better experience.

Here's the list of songs: 1. Soap&Skin - The Sun 2. L'Enfant De La Forêt - Katabasis 3. L'Enfant De La Forêt - Noir-Etang 4. Soap&Skin - Deathmental 5. L'Enfant De La Forêt - ...For The Love Of God 6. Soap&Skin - Janitor of Lunacy 7. Soap&Skin - Sugarbread 8. Soap&Skin - Marche Funèbre

(01) “Why won’t you let me out, Inquisitor?”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“I thought you came here to talk. You always do.”

“I said don’t talk to me!”

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here… Have you abandoned?” Cullen twitched forward; the chains holding him clinked loudly in dead silence of the prison cell. “Have you? Have you, Inquisitor?”

Inquisitor turned away, afraid to look at the face of somebody he once called a friend. Pale, worn-out, and distorted, it resembled a shadow of a person, a spirit who escaped the Fade and now lurked among others with nothing reminding him of what he used to be.

“I want to see your eyes, Inquisitor. You made me like this, you keep me here. It’s all your fault.”

“It isn’t. You are here because I have faith in you. You won’t make me hate you, no matter what you say.”

“Oh, you already hate me,”—Cullen laughed insincerely—“I know you do. I can sense it. But there is still a chance…”

Inquisitor raised his head. He gripped the bars tightly and leaned forward, so close that he could feel cold iron touching the skin on his cheeks and forehead.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Cullen closed his eyes. His body was relaxed, hands were loosely hanging. The veins visible under half-transparent skin were pulsating red.

“If you could let me share the song with you…” he muttered under his breath. “It’s so serene. You’ll see, you’ll understand then. You left me here on my own with it, and I accepted it, and so will you.”

Inquisitor’s hands exploded with a burst of magic as he clutched the bars with all the force he had left in his weakened body. His teeth were grit and his head hurt. He tried to say something, but no sound came out – his throat seemed swollen and a feeling of pressure in his chest made it difficult to breathe.

“You owe me this. I’m here because of you. Listen to me”—Cullen made a pause, waiting for the Inquisitor to react—“Listen to me!” he shouted, gripping his fists and rattling the chains that bound him.

Lavellan looked him in the eyes, ready to suffer through whatever he had to tell him.

“The song I used to hear is nothing compared to this one…” went on Cullen in a less agitated manner. “It embraces, caresses… I would hear it in my sleep, but now I don’t sleep anymore... First, the dreams left, and now I don’t need to sleep at all. I just listen.”

“I’ll find the cure,” said Inquisitor in an attempt to persuade Cullen, though, not sounding confident enough to believe it himself.

“I don’t need any cure, Inquisitor. I am not sick. I need to get out of here, I need to feel the wind, the heat of it is KILLING me!”

“You have to withstand it. The lyrium will devour you if you don’t resist, you know that!”

Cullen chuckled. His voice was crispy and low after spending so much time in a cold cell without any food and water. He wasn’t denied it, he just refused to take any.

“You’re not supposed to resist,” he made a special emphasis on the last word. “It makes you stronger, it lets you see so much more… You have no idea.”

Inquisitor let go of the bars frozen by a sudden outburst of his magic. He barely managed to keep it inside as it wanted to get out so eagerly and uncontrollably. This place smelled of despair and desolation and it took away all the energy he had. He wanted to leave, but could not force himself to do so.

Cullen slowly hummed a few notes while crossing his legs on the bare stone floor. He drew deep long breath and a hint of a smile touched his chapped lips as he spoke.

“I hated mages. You already know that, I recon. As any other reasonable templar would do. I was afraid of their power, but now… Now I am not. Your magic doesn’t scare me, Inquisitor, because soon even you won’t be able to stop me.”

“I don’t want to stop you. I just want to help.”

“Help yourself, Inquisitor. You look pathetic.”

Lavellan looked not much better than his former Commander. He barely got any sleep, always having to help others, being not himself, but the Inquisitor. Those few free moments he had he would spend in this dungeon of anguish, chiding himself for what had happened to Cullen and making himself suffer by looking at the sufferings of the templar.

Time was passing by mercilessly. He wished he could stay there without any movement forever, but the whole world was frantically spinning around him and without his intervention everything could fall apart any minute. He threw one last tired look at the templar and left the prison, foolishly hoping the next time he came everything would be different.

“I’ll be here, Inquisitor. In case you want to chat.”

Cullen didn’t stop smiling. His posture was stiff and eyes were blank, glowing crimson red.

 (02-03) “Inquisitor.”

“Yes, Solas?” Lavellan stopped to greet the elf with an exhausted half-smile on his face. He knew he couldn’t fool him, but the habit of pretending had already become a part of him.

“You’ve been there again. Don’t deny it.” Solas’ eyes were piercing the Inquisitor. It was not a question because he did not really need the answer, he knew everything intuitively. This terrifying power of his never left Lavellan any chance of retrieval.

“Yes, I have. I am trying to understand…” Inquisitor looked down in a kind of shame, like a child who did what was not allowed. “There must be something I can do,” he added quietly.

“If you really want to help him, you must put him out of his misery. This is the only option. The longer you wait, the more his condition deteriorates,” said Solas in a tone that did not allow for any disagreement.

The throbbing pain in his temples made Lavellan feel as if he also heard the song. The one that outvoiced all his thoughts and common sense, forced him to say what he didn’t mean and let slowly crawling insanity possess his mind.

“I don’t care. I do not care what you think, Solas!” he yelled, not paying attention to all the other people in the castle yard who were startled by his outburst of anger. “I will not abandon him, even if it will be the death of me!”

Solas frowned. This was the only visible sign of his dissatisfaction. Even though he greatly disapproved of what the Inquisitor’s opinion was, he would never lose his temper.

“You don’t belong to yourself anymore. People rely on you, and you have to remember that. Sometimes thousand lives are more important than one,” he simply said.

Lavellan shook his head, now feeling ashamed for his behaviour. He did not mean it, merely didn’t know how to defend his position anymore.

“I know… I am sorry,” he replied. “I promise to think it over. I just need some rest; it’s been a long day.”

“Indeed, it has. I understand, my friend. Great responsibility lies on your shoulders.” Solas patted Lavellan on the back. “Don’t try to carry it on your own. We are all here to share it with you.”

Inquisitor nodded gratefully and hurried to leave the unpleasant conversation behind.

“Varric wanted to see you. He looked worried,” said Solas after him.

“Thank you. I will see him at once,” answered Inquisitor, disappointed that he couldn’t be left alone even for a moment.

The dwarf was right were Lavellan assumed he would be – near the fireplace in the great hall, working on his drafts. The mage approached a wooden table and took a seat on a chair near Varric.

“Your Inquisitorialness,” said Varric and took his gaze off the pages scattered all over the table. “You look… good enough.” The expression on his face suggested he was of a different opinion.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Varric. You’re the only person here allowed to criticize me so we’re friends no matter what you say.”

“Okay, well, a little rough around the edges, but I’ve seen worse.” The dwarf smiled in a friendly way, finally put aside his soaked in ink quill and diverted all of his attention to the conversation.

“I appreciate the honesty,” said Lavellan. His head still hurt, but the tender warmth of the fire in the fireplace and the calm air always present around Varric made it easier to endure.

“Chuckles probably made it sound like a big deal, but there wasn’t really any significant reason I needed to see you. Just wanted to tell you that Cassandra took over all of Commander’s plans and… Well, she’ll take care of everything. Things will continue as planned.”

“I appreciate that as well,” said Inquisitor, his voice gradually becoming quieter. He knew he should talk to Cassandra. After all, her role in the Inquisition was already great enough, and now she had even more responsibilities to deal with. Yet he did not know what to tell her. He could neither congratulate her not say that he was sorry. All seemed wrong.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but let me say something. I know how it feels.”

Varric also possessed the ability to know what people around him thought about and it made the Inquisitor consider the fact that he was the only one who couldn’t see past the pretension of others. He couldn’t even understand his own thoughts, let alone somebody else’s.

He didn’t answer, just looked blankly in front of himself, right into the void, at nothing in particular.

“I lost my brother to it…” continued Varric.

“I’ve never heard you had a brother. What was he like?”

“Stubborn would probably be the best word to describe him.”

“Seems like you two had quite a lot in common,” said Inquisitor jokingly.

“Not really. He was this “businessman” type of guy – always thinking about profits and dubious affairs. And, unlike me, he wasn’t a charismatic and talented hero-lover.”

“Obviously. It is hard to find another dwarf like you.”

“Impossible, I would say”—Varric heaved a deep sigh and his tone shifted to a more serious one—“It’s difficult to come in terms with at the beginning, but sooner or later you just do. It’s long and complicated, but we’re all here to support you. We knew what we signed up for.”

Inquisitor thought that it wasn’t true. He didn’t know. Cullen didn’t know. Nobody knew. Even so, he would probably be able to accept any consequences if they applied to him personally, but he was not ready to watch others degrade that easily.

“You should go and lie down. My talks make you sleepy, apparently.” Varric gave Lavellan an encouraging wink in an effort to end the conversation on a higher note.

“It’s good to hear at least one actually useful advice today,” said Lavellan. “Let me know if anything needs my attention.”

“Of course.”

Varric dipped his quill in ink and continued writing. Inquisitor headed to his quarters, trying not to pass out from fatigue on his way there.

 (04) The next time Inquisitor entered the dreary prison, he barely managed to hold in a scream of terror. Cullen’s state was rapidly decaying. Red lyrium crystals were nesting on him, tearing the pale skin from the inside, feeding on his flesh. The whole cell was illuminated by appalling red light emitted by the crystals that were now part of his body. It was unbearably hot down there – apart from light, the lyrium also radiated heat. Cullen hardly moved since the last time Inquisitor saw him.

“I thought you’d never come,” he said with the same ominous smile he demonstrated previously. There was neither kindness nor hospitality in it.

“I was busy.” Inquisitor swallowed his horror before the intimidating creature dwelling in the basement of his castle and approached the cell. “Does it hurt?”

“It used to. It was more painful when I tried to oppose my addiction. Now, having given in, I see that there was no point in it. The most difficult path isn’t always the right one.”

“I refuse to believe that this is really what you think!”

Lavellan’s right hand flushed with green light. His constantly pressured and distraught state of mind depressed his control over magic abilities, especially those concerned with the Mark. Closing small tears grew more and more troublesome, as his power did not obey him and instead forced more demons to come out of the Fade.

“I gain power while you lose it. How ironic.” Cullen’s red eyes were staring right into Inquisitor’s soul, omitting what was on the outside. Lavellan’s appearance made it obvious that he was also experiencing drastic changes, but Cullen did not need to see how he looked to know that he was broken already. “The Anchor doesn’t belong to you, so soon it will turn against you, the way it should’ve done long ago. And then the Master will take it.”

“The Master? Now you serve him? Cullen, have you forgotten what he did to our people? Haven’t you seen how the Sanctuary was destroyed?”

“I remember everything perfectly, and that is why I understand how fast he will achieve dominance over everything else. You’re blind, Inquisitor, and I gained my sight here, in this dark basement, thanks to you. I pity you for how miserable your efforts to defy us are.”

“You have never talked to him, Cullen. He is insane, he blatantly uses everyone who supports him. They are disposable! Do you really want to be one of them?”

“I don’t need to talk to him, I have the song. It’s with me all the time. Unlike you were.” Cullen stopped smiling and grimaced. “If the song I heard from usual lyrium reminded the voice of the Maker, then this one sounds like the Old God. Something greater than all of us, something indescribable and immensely strong. There is no Maker in the Golden City, Inquisitor. Nobody cares about your soul, might as well sacrifice it in the grand battle for this world. But betting on the right side.”

“Cullen, you’re not yourself anymore…”

“Have you just noticed? What kind of leader are you if you don’t pay attention to what is going on with your advisors and trusted ones? To how Leliana bends down under the weight of the decision she makes for you, to how the Bull is torn between what is dear to him and what he must do, to how Cole suffers every minute he is present in this world affected by the vices and sins people commit… And all because of you.”

Lavellan tried not to yield, not to show that every word pierced him like a dagger. Every day he thought about all the lost opportunities, missed chances and mistakes made. Every night he lay sleepless because of the regrets and guilt haunting him whenever he closed his eyes. He did not see darkness under the lowered eyelids, only the faces of people he lost to the war nobody was ready for. However absurd templar’s words were, he would believe them because he himself was disappointed in what leader he turned out to be. He tried not to yield but did it quite poorly.

“Even though you don’t admit it, I know you’re crushed. You’re as lost as the day the Breach opened and you were the only one to survive the explosion. I could show you the way… or end you. You decide.”

“I don’t need any help from you. You are not the person you pretend to be anyway... We’ll talk everything over, but only when I bring back the Commander I know.”

“How persistent,” said Cullen, stretching every word as if he was savouring them. “It’s a shame you weren’t so determined previously. Perhaps it would have saved a lot of lives and your beloved Commander in his previous form. Although, I am quite upset that you prefer to disown me now that you don’t like the way I am anymore. You turned out to be so shallow…”

“We’ve all seen what lyrium does to the templars, Cullen… Your words will not influence me because I know that it’s the Blight talking in you. Once you get rid of that filth—”

“You’re not really so certain, are you?” asked Cullen mockingly and laughed. “You think you can just rip it out of me, but it runs through my veins now. You can try whatever you want, you can break the crystals, you can cut them out, you can use your wretched magic, your Mark, yet you will not make the song go away. It will grow louder and stronger, and so will I.”

“You haven’t eaten for days, Cullen. You don’t sleep, you don’t talk to people. Your life slips through your fingers. Nobody is allowed to go down here except for me, so I am the only one who can help you. Please, don’t make it worse for the both of us.”

“I’m not the one making it worse. You are.”

Cullen turned his head away from the Inquisitor, not willing to talk anymore. The crystals on his body glimmered with red lights. There were no other light sources in the basement so Cullen’s face was illuminated only by this sinister glow. His eyes as well as the veins visibly pulsating under the dead-white skin of his drained body were red. Everything about him was red. The fetters around his wrists were covered in rust, but the glow of the crystals made it seem like they were rotting.  

Lavellan couldn’t help but notice that most of the crystals were growing on his left shoulder and the appropriate side of his neck, forming a cluster. A number of smaller ones was spread over his stomach and forearms. Although he had already spent days in the cell, his body wasn’t as weakened and feeble as it should have been, and it scared the elf. He really wasn’t going to die or surrender that easily.

Inquisitor did not know how long he stood there without saying anything, just examining the former Commander. At one moment, the realization that he hated being there just dawned on him. He slept for a few hours and even tried to eat before coming, but now felt as if he hadn’t had any rest for weeks. The heat produced by the lyrium crystals made him feel feverish. His vision became dizzy and he thought that he may lose consciousness if he stayed here.

The room that always felt so empty now seemed to be filled with presence. Cullen was the only prisoner, but to Inquisitor the basement seemed overcrowded: he couldn’t breathe freely, his whole body hurt as if he was pushed around with heavy shoves. Convincing himself that there was nothing he could say or do to help Cullen right here and right now, he decided to leave.

Cullen said nothing.

 (05) “Oh, dear, you look hideous,” said Vivienne, catching Inquisitor on his way to the war table. Her voice suggested that she was both unsatisfied and a little bothered. “We need to do something about that immediately,” she added, looking him up and down.

“I am sorry, Vivienne, but there is no time for that. One of our scouts went missing and we need to decide where we should start searching. I promise I’ll get some sleep later.”

“No-no, beauty sleep will not help you anymore. I’m afraid, we need to eliminate the cause of your worries or else you’ll scare all our allies away.”

“I know what you want to tell me and no, I will not—”

“This is not a discussion, my dear,” said Vivienne, interrupting Lavellan who already raised his hand as a sign of protest. “It’s difficult for all of us, but you cannot show your weakness. You represent the Inquisition and appearing like that is almost the same as telling everybody we are just a group of worthless bandits. Look at those clothes, at that face… You look like you were the one who sat in that cell with no fresh air and good company. Please, I beg you, don’t make me feel ashamed of you.”

“I cannot promise you to deal with what bothers me, but I will pull myself together,” managed to utter Inquisitor after a few seconds of silence.

“And the clothing.” Vivienne looked skeptically at the old torn leather armor Inquisitor had been wearing for god knows how many days.

“Yes, I will surely change it.”

“That is what I wanted to hear. Don’t let others use your vulnerability against you. Don’t look like you have any in the first place.”

Inquisitor nodded to the Grand Enchanter to pay his respect. She gave him a polite nod as well before leaving him in the great hall. In reality, he rarely shared her point of view regarding pretty much anything, but he just could not resist her openly: she was too powerful and too valuable. Her knowledge of Orlesian court and magic powers were of great use to the Inquisition so sometimes he just needed to say what she wanted to hear in order to keep their temporary peace.

He hurried to open the heavy wooden door that led to the command centre. All of his advisors had already gathered at the war table. All, but one.

As days went by, Inquisitor slowly descended into madness. He frantically slaughtered all enemies he met on his way being as merciless as never before. His magic powers grew to be more effective on the battlefield, burning, freezing, and crushing, but, at the same time, almost uncontrollable. There was no middle ground for him, only lethal blows. Each red templar he spotted made him furious beyond all reason – he used every single spell on them to see what dealt the most damage. He couldn’t use his healing powers anymore, but instead gained the ability to bring the strongest pain to every red lyrium addict he saw. Blackwall, Dorian and Varric shared his hate for the enemies they fought, but certainly did not approve of his methods. They thought nobody deserved that much suffering, no matter what they did.

When time allowed it, Lavellan would stop to examine the bodies of the deceased templars. He paid special attention to how the crystals rooting in their bodies developed and grew, how the skin around the ruptures looked and behaved. He killed countless knights, guards and marksmen, observing how different were states of their corruption. He noticed how crystals pierced their armour, making it part of them. Some of them wore helmets overgrown by it, so he wondered how they could even see anything. A few shadows he eliminated had arms completely covered in lyrium which made them much more dangerous than the others, raw lyrium being extremely harmful in any state, but at the same time filling their existence with agony: contact that close made them lose their humanity faster and degraded their physical and mental state.

Once on the Emerald Graves, Inquisitor, accompanied by his loyal followers, met a Behemoth. An enormous lump of red lyrium barely provoked the thought that it used to be a person – not a single part of its body remained intact, everything was completely covered with crystals. The air around it was pulsating with heat, and the red glow it emitted blinded them. The fight was long and tedious – Blackwall was severely injured after receiving a massive blow in his leg and Dorian exhausted all his magic forces and couldn’t continue without a dose of lyrium to boost them. When the existence of the monstrosity was finally ended by Inquisitor’s ice spell, they managed to catch a glimpse of a silhouette resembling that of a human being inside the Behemoth before it collapsed to the ground. The atmosphere became heavy, as they were crudely reminded that the creatures they were forced to fight used to be people at some point. Some of them, perhaps, didn’t choose this fate and would rather continue living their ordinary lives.

While his companions stood gloomy and silent, mulling over what happened to the world they once knew, Lavellan approached a pile of dust left of the Behemoth. He couldn’t lose such an opportunity to study it because it was the first specimen that was so corrupt that it wasn’t able to say a single word and could only scream and produce inarticulate sounds. Lately Inquisitor became almost obsessed with researching how lyrium developed in the bodies of templars, so all he could think about was finding out how it influenced human organism and seeing if it could be prevented somehow. He approached the pile and was extremely disappointed to see that there was almost nothing left in it. Being in some kind of frenzy, with his bare hand he grabbed a small lyrium crystal – the only visible part of the templar that hadn’t disintegrated yet. A few moments passed before Varric noticed what Lavellan was doing and hurried to him to drag him away from the pile and throw away the crystal. Inquisitor’s hand and fingers were already influenced by the mineral and a few deep burns were left on the skin.

All the way back to Skyhold Lavellan listened to Dorian lecturing him about how irresponsible he was. Blackwall silently frowned and lagged behind, holding on to the handle of his sword hanging in a scabbard on his side. Varric occasionally sighed and said that he agreed with Dorian. Inquisitor’s hand throbbed with pain but he did not really care. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he didn’t make any progress in researching the influence of lyrium.  

He stopped visiting the prison at Skyhold. He was afraid to descend there and see something more terrifying that he had already seen. He wanted to send somebody down to check on Cullen occasionally, and Leliana agreed to come herself, not wanting anybody else to become the witness of what happened to the Commander of the grand Inquisition. She feared they would lose their influence and authority if the details about Cullen’s corruption became public; the Inquisitor feared he would lose any hope left after seeing his friend one more time.

After one of the visits, Leliana reported that Cullen’s left arm is covered with red lyrium crystals up to his elbow already. Apart from that, she added that he also refused to talk to her. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

 (06) “So… how are you doing here, Cole?” asked the Inquisitor his ghostly companion one gloomy evening. He couldn’t forget what Cullen said about him not caring about his friends. He was troubled to learn they were down, but recently just didn’t have the time to address that.

“This place is not a home. Too dark. Everybody’s hurt.” The spirit lowered his head, hiding his eyes behind the brim of his hat.

“Are you hurt too?” carefully inquired Lavellan.

“I don’t know. They are. I absorb the pain, it stings like bees, but stronger. But it brings relief to the others.”

“You don’t have to help them if it is hard for you. It’s impossible to help everybody. I don’t want you to feel pain because of that, Cole,” said Inquisitor, concerned about the spirit. He knew that comforting others was the actual reason his friend existed, but didn’t want to tolerate such state of affairs nonetheless.

“I came here to help. Pain is temporary, death is not. I take the pain and put up with it for a short while, and they are free and calm. Better than listening to their screams.”

“I see…”

It was always difficult to communicate with Cole. He was there but also in hundreds other places at the same time. He responded to questions, but was talking about something only he saw and understood. He looked like a young boy, so everybody perceived him as such, but, in reality, he knew much more than any other person in the castle. He knew about misfortunes of every soldier in the Inquisition, about their worries and fears, but nobody really knew anything about him. Inquisitor was sorry that he didn’t take enough time and make enough effort to get to know this sad entity better.

“You are the only one I can’t help. I see your pain, it’s red and dense and floats like a haze. You are surrounded by people, but they are not there. You’re alone and lost in the fog and you suffocate. I want to help.”

Lavellan moved the hat from Cole’s eyes to see his face. Usually there was no expression on it, but it was important to see his eyes to establish at least some kind of contact.

“I know, Cole. I know. But it’s my burden, and I will carry it. Others here are also miserable, so just do what you can for them. Whatever you feel right.”

“I tried to take away your fear.” Cole looked Lavellan directly in the eyes. “I come when you sleep, I watch, try to lead the demons away. They are strong, bloody, proud, drag heads of their victims as trophies. You don’t let them in, yet the fear stays. You need to rest, but not sleep. Watch yourself.”

Cole suddenly disappeared as he sometimes did. Lavellan remembered him standing beside him a second ago, but now he wasn’t there anymore. Some of Inquisition’s soldiers and commanders were against Cole’s stay in Skyhold, but the Inquisitor remained unshaken in his decision. He saw what the boy did to help those who were in need, and it was more than he himself could have ever done. The spirit didn’t disappear out of a sheer wish, somebody needed him. He always answered the call.

 (07) Lavellan was lying on the side of his bed, twisted and rolled up in a blanket. The bedsheet around him was crumpled and wet from sweat. He was in fever, as if instead of frosty mountains outside of Skyhold only sand dunes enveloped him with unbearable heat. He was delirious and mumbling something to himself. Before his eyes was the same prison cell he chose not to visit anymore. Crystals grew from every wall, from the ceiling and stone floor. They seemed to be alive, breathing and singing the song. Parts of mutilated human, elven, and dwarven bodies were stuck in the lyrium, feeding it with last drops of blood left in them, making its red colour more prominent and vivid. Inquisitor saw familiar faces captured eternally inside the crystals, lifeless, pale, and distorted. He gripped his staff tightly, ready to fight whoever would come to face him. His injured fingers hurt but he tried not to focus on the pain.

“I hoped to see you once again,” said the voice he knew all too well. He turned around and saw Cullen sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the wall. He wasn’t chained. “I was so upset you stopped visiting,” he continued.

“I couldn’t…” started Lavellan, but Cullen did not want to listen.

“I know what had really happened. You thought I was a burden and you had no wish to continue coddling me. But who will take the responsibility, Inquisitor Lavellan?”

“You should ask your new master about that!” yelled Lavellan angrily. He didn’t really know how much responsibility laid on him for all what had happened, but now he didn’t want to admit anything at all. Not before Cullen.

“He is doing what he must, and you are making things more complicated. Do you really believe you are a hero? A Herald of Andraste? You’re just a thief!”—Cullen spat on the floor in front of him—“All you know is stealing and deceiving. Who gave you the right to decide what’s right and what’s wrong? Why do you think it was better for me before I changed? Tell me, I want to know.”

“I’ve seen what this “transformation” does to the others. They become inhumane, forget their language, families, friends. They live in constant pain and their life is deprived of meaning. You don’t need to be the Herald to understand that.”

“I am different. They are unworthy, nobody cares about them. Do you know the names of all your soldiers, Inquisitor? Do you mourn the death of every one of them? Then why do you worry about those templars so much? They have their own fate and will be rewarded for their diligence. Unlike all those people stuck in here with me,” said Cullen and smiled, waving his already corrupt hand in the direction of ghastly faces behind the glass surface of red crystals on the walls.

“Are you now tormenting people who worked with you and admired you?” Lavellan felt dizzy. He used his staff to help himself stand straight, but his energy was being drained by the red lyrium filling the room. “What kind of commander are you?”

“An improved one. You should’ve noticed how insecure I used to be. Afraid that people would judge me for what I say or do, afraid to confess to you about my decision to stop taking lyrium. Wasn’t it hilarious? Perhaps, you kept me close because I amused you.”

“No, I didn’t. You were one of the best people I have ever known. It’s a shame you turned into this.”

The mark on Inquisitor’s hand started glowing and he felt as if he would lose consciousness soon. His vision got blurry, making it difficult to concentrate on the templar.

“Oh, I know what you feel now…” Cullen laughed repulsively. “Fear, regret, disbelief, disappointment… A little bit of sorrow maybe? Don’t try to lie to me.” He stood up. No shackles held him, now he was free to do whatever he wanted. “Are you ready to face the truth?”

Lavellan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to escape the nightmare. He knew this couldn’t be real.

He opened his eyes and found himself lying on the bed in his quarters. Cole was sitting beside him, silently saying his mantra. He stopped when noticed that Inquisitor was already awake.

“I heard your scream. Nobody here screams that loudly, only whimpers. It was almost too late. The haze swallowed you, I didn’t see, couldn’t find. I am glad you believed me.”

“The thought that it’s just a dream… Did it come from you?” Lavellan removed the blanket and sat on the bed.

“Yes. I wanted to destroy the fear and regret, but could only take you out of the nightmare. You shouldn’t be left alone.”

“Thank you, Cole… Could you stay with me?”

“That is what I implied.”

Lavellan didn’t feel like closing his eyes again.

 (08) “This is impossible! We do not have time and resources to do it!” said Cassandra. Her voice sounded as agitated and decisive as always.

“I need it! I’m not asking you to bring me Coryphaeus himself, just a few red templars.”

“You have lost your mind! How can we capture them alive if even touching them may be lethal? It’s too dangerous. You know that they never surrender.”

“It can change everything. The lyrium in dead templars is most likely also dead, there is no use of it, but if we bring them here alive… I will be able to study it, I’ll examine how it responds to different treatments and…”

“They already suffer! Even if they look like monsters, they are under the influence of it. You want to torture them even more, doesn’t it bother you?”

“What bothers me is the absence of any results in my studies, Cassandra. I need at least a tiny bit of useful information.”

Inquisitor was uncompromising, but Cassandra did not want to agree to his proposal. After all, the Inquisition was still part of the Chantry and they simply couldn’t capture templars and experiment on them. She was one of the people who started the Inquisition and didn’t want to see it come crashing down.

She sighed.

“We will make a decision at the council meeting.”

“Then tell everybody to gather.”

As one of the advisors, Cassandra made it clear that she didn’t support this endeavour of the Inquisitor. Leliana, being more practical and open-minded, decided that they should take the risk in case there was at least one possibility to gain some intel in the process. Even if they didn’t learn how to cure the corruption, they would probably discover the templars’ weak spots. Josephine was inclined to support Cassandra out of her morals, but seeing Lavellan in such despair made her budge.

Two people were in favour, so they started the operation.

Cassandra feared that soon they would not be able to keep Inquisitor in line. He was becoming more and more radical in his methods and didn’t share his thoughts with them anymore. He was grim, slept only three hours a day and most of his time spent in the libraries or on the battlefields. From the latter he would often come injured without even noticing it, as if he couldn’t feel it or didn’t care enough to notice. Their cause was still a priority to him, but determination and hope vanished from his eyes. They became dull and cold.

When first templars were delivered to the castle, he locked himself in the forge with them and didn’t come out for a few hours. Nobody was allowed to enter. There were no screams, but the silence made it seem even worse. Everybody was on the edge, not knowing what to expect. It happened a few more times, but the Inquisitor never shared anything about what he did or what results his experiments showed. As time passed, he became even more withdrawn and solitary. Solas tried talking to Lavellan about the Commander and what his inertness did to him, but with no success. Inquisitor was deaf to all inquiries.

 When the blizzard settled down and the sun managed to send a few rays through thick clouds, one of the Inquisition’s soldiers knocked on the door to Lavellan’s quarters.

“Come in,” said Inquisitor, not bothered to look away from the book he was reading.

“My lord, Sister Leliana went on her usual check and he wasn’t there…” The soldier started stammering as Lavellan abruptly pierced his gaze into him. “He escaped,” mumbled the soldier.

Inquisitor knew it would end like this. He awaited it and feared.

[the-starless-sky]

BAE x The Cat’s Whiskers / “PRIDE” voice drama track 2

Listen through Spotify.

Warning(s): This episode has an explanation of BAE’s traumas. It’s all a bit heavy, and Anne’s has to do with gender, so please watch out.

(Anne enters the room.)

Anne: Sigh.

Allen: How was it?

Anne: No good. He won’t come out no matter what I say.

Allen: I see. I... it’s the first time I saw Hajun seriously angry.

Anne: Yeah. I was surprised... for him to show his emotion and get angry like that...

Allen: He... what kind of face is he making now...?

Anne: I want to know, too, but there’s nothing else we could do but let him be for now, don’t you think?

Allen: No... As I thought, I’ll go and try to talk to him once again!

Anne: WhaーI’m going too!

(The two of them go to Hajun’s room.)

(Allen knocks on Hajun’s door.)

Allen: Hajun, you can hear me, can’t you!? You don’t have to open the door. That’s why, just like that, listen to me.

Hajun: How stubborn. After I calm down, I’ll go out by myself. Of course, with a smile as usual. That’s why, please leave me alone.

Allen: That means you’re not smiling right now! Right?

Hajun: What about it? Even I have times when I’m upset.

Allen: That’s not what I’m talking about...! I’m frustrated. When you thrust him away, I thought, ‘ah, he’s seriously angry’... it’s the first time I saw your face like that. It’s a face that you’ve never shown to me nor Anne.

Anne: Yeah...

Allen: And I thought, it’s frustrating, but... what Compra Daimaou sad was right. We haven’t seriously confronted each other. That we’ve only been looking at each other’s convenient sides...

Hajun: ...!

Allen: That’s why, now, I’m angry at myself. Even though I’m the one who was always with you the most, doing hip hop together, I... I didn’t try to see the real you. That’s why... in the depths of my ear, I could hear the sound of a record disk breaking. And flames burn... as everything in front of me turns deep red.

Anne: Allen...?

Allen: I’m talking about trap reactions. Mine... always starts like that.

Anne: Trap reactions, you say? But, Allen, that’s...

Allen: It’s fine! I want you guys to listen. You guys know about my family, right? Both of my parents are classical musicians, and they absolutely wont acknowledge hip hop. I know that, so I listened to hip hop in secret. But then I got completely absorbed in it, and...

_

(Sounds of record disk breaking.)

Allen’s mother: Such grating sounds like hip hop... where in the world did you pick it up from?

Allen’s father: Don’t listen to such worthless music!! Your ears will get dirty!!

Allen: Stop!! Don’t burn it...!! Please... only that...

Allen’s mother: Allen, you’re talented. If you listen to Papa and Mama, you could even become a world-class musician!

Allen’s father: We gave birth to you for that reason, not to let you play trashy music like this.

Allen: Please... I finally understood... the music I want to do is hip hop...! That’s why... Ahhhhh!!

Allen’s father and mother: You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong.

Allen: Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!

_

Allen: They burned everything. The records I collected one by one, the equipment I finally managed to buy by saving my pocket money, I was locked up in the house for days... They keep denying my music... no, denying me. After that, Hajun, you know it best, don’t you?

Anne: Ah, that’s unfair. I haven’t heard about that!

Allen: I escaped from the room I was confined in, and ran away to this place. I didn’t think I’d keep living here after that, though.

Anne: So that’s how it was...

Allen: This is my trauma. The nightmare I see during trap reactions. Shameful, isn’t it? To keep recalling again and again the day my treasure got burnt by my parents when I was a brat.

Allen: No it’s not! It’s not. Mine starts with the sound of a scissor.

_

(The sounds of scissors clipping.)

Anne’s mother: Look, you turned wonderful!

Anne: Sob... hic...

Anne’s mother: Long hair don’t suit you, Anjin [1]. You’re a boy, after allーshort hair’s way better.

Anne: Hic... But I...!

Anne’s mother: Anjin!!

Anne: ...!

Anne’s mother: When Papa left, you promised him, right? That from now on, Anjin will become Mama’s prince.

Anne: Yeah...

Anne’s mother: Right!? Right, Anjin! I love you, Anjin! I want to love, you Anjin! That’s why, Anjin, please stay as Mama’s prince forever...

Anne: Yeah... that’s right... I’m Mama’s prince, after all... I have to be loved by Mama... hic...

_

Anne: Haha, that’s definitely a toxic parent, right? But... I couldn’t run away. Even now, I still think I want to be Mama’s prince, somewhere in my heart. I want to love and be loved.

Allen: ...!

Anne: But if it goes on, both of us will break. I knew that, so I left home. Haha. The story of my trap reaction ends here! Seriously, shameful, isn’t it? Not being able to stand independently from my parents even now...

Allen: Anne...

Anne: It’s fine. I thought I’d have to talk about it either way someday, and now I feel relieved after I say it frankly with all of my might.

Hajun: I was told I’m an unneeded child.

Allen: Ah... Hajun, what did you sayー

Hajun: I was told I’m an unneeded child.

Allen: ...! Is that, by Compra Daimaou...?

Hajun: Yes. That’s how it starts for me.

Anne: Start... you mean...?

Hajun: My trap reaction.

Anne: ...!

Hajun: You guys know that I’m the son of the head of Yeon Conglomerate, right?

Allen: Yeah.

Hajun: However, I’m an adopted child. I was taken in to that house when I was a child, just to succeed the family.

Anne: Hajun... if it’s painful, you don’t have to force yourself to say itー

Hajun: My parents... were probably good people. They raised me, who had no blood relation to them, as they would their real son. They probably loved me, as wellーto an extent. ...Until the real son was born.

_

(Sounds of baby crying.)

Hajun’s father: Hajun. I’ll have you go to Japan.

Hajun: Eh...!?

Hajun’s mother: For Yeon Conglomerate, Japan’s an important business partner. It’s not bad to master Japanese while you have the chance.

Hajun: But I...!

Hajun’s father: It seems like you don’t understand.

Hajun’s mother: Hajun. That means, you’re not a necessary existence in this house anymore.

Hajun: Eh...!?

Hajun’s mother: The most important thing in Yeon Conglomerate is to be related by blood. Because one has blood relations with Yeon Family, one could be the head everyone acknowledges.

Hajun’s father: Fortunately, God has blessed us with a son. You’re a clever childーyou know what that means, don’t you?

Hajun: Then... I’m...

Hajun’s father: That’s right, Hajun. You’re an unneeded child. Unneeded child. Unneeded child. Unneeded child.

_

Hajun: It makes me remember the day when my parents told me I’m an unneeded child. Repeatedly, repeatedly, the day when I got thrown away miserably like a dog.

Allen: That’s why, that time, you...

Hajun: Yes. I subconsciously lost my cool. It was just as that guy from The Cat’s Whiskers said. I’m scared. ...Of becoming an unneeded child again.

Allen & Anne: ...!

Hajun: That’s why, I never get serious with anyone. Even more so if it’s someone I cherish. Wearing a smiling mask, never showing my real self. Because it’s scary. It’s frightening. After all, I’m an unneeded child... If I believe in someone, love them, and get betrayed again... thrown away again, I can’t bear it. If so, then I wont everー

Allen: Don’t be stupid!! Hajun, you’re not an unneeded child!

Hajun: ...!

Allen: No matter what anyone says, you’re not an unneeded child!! Plus, I won’t ever betray you, Hajun! I won’t throw you away! Hajun. Do you remember? The day when I tumbled here.

Hajun: Yes...

Allen: You let the tattered me stay without asking anything, didn’t you? Keeping quiet from your parents and school... and then one day, you said it: ‘That’s nice.’

Hajun: ...!

Allen: To the rap I muttered nonchalantly... to that rap, which you couldn’t even call ‘music’, you said, ‘that’s nice.’ That time, I understood. I still have myself. I thought I’ve lost everything, but I still have myself! Even if it was broken, or burnt... it could never be snatched away. I... the sound echoing inside of me, will never be erased by anyone! That’s why, that time, the one who saved me was you, Hajun! That I could do hip hop without losing myself, it’s all because of you! Hajun!

Hajun: ...!

Allen: Getting denied, and denied... Being told that I’m worthless, getting broken, burnt... to the tattered me, you said ‘it’s nice’. You accepted me, and asked me to do hip hop together. Who the hell would throw away such an important person!?

(Allen hits the door.)

Hajun: ...! You’re such an idiot.

Allen: Eh?

Hajun: It’s not something you have to get fired up about. So embarrassing.

Allen: Embarrassing, you said...

Hajun: Are you crying?

Allen: I’m not crying...

Anne: Haha, Allen, you’re crying. Like, a lot.

Allen: Don’t lie!! Look, it’s...!

Anne: Yeah, yeah, it’s the sweat of your heart, is it?

Allen: Yeah, it’s my heart’s sweat!

Hajun: Pft. Jeez... now that you’ve cried before I do...

(Hajun opens the door.)

Allen & Anne: Hajun...!

Hajun: What a hindrance. If you guys stand around there, I can’t open the door.

Allen: Ah... yeah!

Anne: Hajun...?

Hajun: I’m fine already. I’m sorry for making you guys worried.

Anne: No... thank you, Hajun.

Hajun: Hm? Why did you thank me?

Anne: ‘Cause I’m happy. To hear Hajun’s real self, that is.

Hajun: Anne...

(Allen’s stomach growls.)

Allen: Aah... now that I’m relieved, suddenly I feel hungry.

Anne: Then, shall we go eat out somewhere?

Allen: I wanna go to Raimen-tei! I want char siu ramen with double the char siu! Of course, it’s Hajun’s treat!

Hajun: Ha!? Why do I have to treat you guys!?

Anne: Then, I want a tenshin-don! [2] With all-you-can-drink draft beer!

Hajun: Waitー

Allen: Come on, let’s go!

Anne: Ah, I wanna retouch my makeup!

Allen: That kinda thing, it’s fine already!

Anne: What do you mean by ‘that kinda thing’!?

Hajun: Jeez, you guys... thank you.

Allen: Huh?

Hajun: It’s nothing. Can’t be helped, I’ll treat you all today. Let’s go.

Anne: Free meal’s the best!

Allen & Anne: Haha!

_

(Sound of door knocked.)

Anne: Yes, please come in.

(Door opens.)

Saimon: Hello. I’m coming in.

Anne: Saimon-sensei! And everyone else, too...

Ryuu: Hello~! It’s Ryuu-kun!

Shiki: Excuse me...

Yohei: We came to return the gift from last time. Well, call it observing the enemy movements.

Allen: Enemy... is it?

Saimon: It’s a joke. We have no intention to treat you as an enemy. But, indeed we’re interested in you guys. There’s that thing from last time, too, after all.

Allen: Ah, if that’s it, thenー

Hajun: Then, how was it? The trend-jumping, cutting edge-pretending child’s play?

Yohei: He’s really pickin’ a fight, ain’t he.

Anne: Ah, but I want to hear, as well. Please tell us honestly.

Saimon: Come on, Yohei.

Yohei: I’ll take back my words. Sorry for dissin’ you guys.

Allen: Huh!?

Yohei: You guys’ sound today had a core. Something that wont waver, as rappers. No, I felt your pride as a team. It’s different from our style, but I’ll acknowledge it. That was a nice stage.

Hajun: ...

Yohei: Especially you, 48, was it?

Hajun: Yes.

Yohei: How to say it... you broke out of your shell, huh?

Hajun: Thanks to all of you.

Saimon: With this, I’m getting even more excited in battling with all of you. Of course, we have no intention to lose. We’ll bet on our pride and do our own hip hop.

Yohei: We won’t letcha call us behind the times.

Shiki: I-I’ll do my best!

Ryuu: Hmmm? Hey, Mushroom-kun... you...

Hajun: ...!?

Ryuu: You came out of your box!

Hajun: ...!

Ryuu: But you have to hurry, you know? After all, you don’t have much time left.

Hajun: ...!!

Ryuu: Hey, hey, Boss, Master! Ryuu-kun’s in high spirit today! Let’s go back to the floor!

Yohei: We’re done here. Let’s go home.

Saimon: I also have class tomorrow.

Ryuu: Eeeh!? Boring!!! Shiki, you idiot!!!

Shiki: Eh, why me!?

_

Allen: Hajun, are you okay!?

Anne: If he said something weird to you again, this time I’ll knock him down!

Hajun: Haha. No, it’s nothing. You guys are such worrywarts.

Allen: I mean...!

Anne: Right!?

Hajun: Come on, let’s go home. Allen, if you keep dawdling, you’ll lose your metal again.

Allen: ...!! You’re still hung up over that!? You have a bad personality!

Anne: As expected from the sadistic smiling prince!

Hajun: Let’s go, Anjin.

Anne: Hey, I told you to not call me by that name, didn’t I!

Allen: Seems like it’d be good to add ‘wicked-tongued’ to the sadistic smiling prince.

Anne: Seriously, jeez!

Allen: Now it’s wicked-tongued, sadistic smiling prince.

Anne: For some reason, the ‘prince’ never gets removed.

Allen: I wonder why?

Hajun: If I’m with you guys, perhaps, I’m sure...

Notes

[1] I heard Anji first, but then I think it’s actually Anjin?

[2] Tenshin-don is crab meat omelette on rice!! That sounds really good...

Now we get BAE’s backstory... and I’m now solidifying my role as Allen’s girlfriend!!! Not accepting complaints!!! (jk).

Maybe cozmez next on “FAMILY”?