drainedsilver

[drainedsilver]

why didn’t you stop me》kim taehyung

(posted on ao3:ackrmned)

(word count:1097)

You knew your way around a rich place, it’s the way you had been raised, at least after you left your first and only love. You didn’t know why but ever since then all you managed to do was fall for old rich men and please them in any way you could, at the youthful age of 25 everyone adored you. And the old man that had his eyes on you now was no different. 56, widowed and a millionaire hypersexual businessman with a spoiled brat of a daughter. And there she was, little miss perfect introducing her famous boyfriend to everyone, she had talked about him but the details were spared because Hana wanted this night to be perfect for you, and here’s to hope that it is.

Sung-ho had a maid who worked specifically for your needs, you hated it. You’re your own woman, why would you need someone picking up your crap and dusting off your bed? It was especially annoying because he treated you as if you were a kid, what a weirdo.

“Oppa, could you zip my dress up for me?” you calmly asked, batting your eyelashes for the man who was securing the expensive watch on his wrist. He nodded, grabbing the zipper and pulling it up, placing soft kisses on your naked shoulders while doing so. You wanted to move away, leave him alone, leave this cursed place but every other thing stopped you from doing so. You still needed that damned money, what a sweet taste of victory. Escaping his grasp, you pressed your lips into a smile and grabbed his hand, leading yourselves out of the room, before he got any ideas. You walked down the stairs, arm locked with his own and sat down on the velvety couch of rustic background, soft music playing on the background. The wait for the two of them was miserable, and you checked the watch every 20 seconds, nothing to talk about anyways..

“How’s your mother? She had any complains about the surgery? I can send someone to check on her.” the older man spoke breaking the silence and you shook your head

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you for the offer, sir.” you avoided his concerns and he nodded, placing a hand on your knee rubbing it.

The door finally rang and you got up, signaling the house workers to stay put, you wanted to experience this first-hand. And nothing could have prepared you for the shock that shot through your body when you saw his familiar face, Kim Tae-Hyung. Your first and only love. It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t recognize those warm eyes from anywhere, because you would. They haunted you even in your deepest nightmares. His eyes were filled with shock as well, he didn’t look how you remembered. You forgot how he looked if you were honest, he was a part of your life that made you weak, vulnerable. You hugged Hana, a small smile on your face and faced the man you feared the most, why him? In order to not cause suspicion he smiled softly and grabbed your hand, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, draining your heart, crushing it into sand. Clearing your throat to stop your tears you welcomed the young couple in where your man waited, such change. Tae-hyung felt disgusted, this wasn’t you. A man on his fifties while you were such a young thing, on the start of your twenties. It pained him, could he have stopped this if he wanted? It didn’t matter now, he saw the look on your face, she wasn’t the old Y/N, this one’s eyes looked lifeless as if she were a robot, projected to feel no emotion, and the wrinkly hand on her thigh made him clench his fists, you didn’t deserve this.

“Daddy, Y/N, this is Tae-hyung, my boyfriend.” the loud girl said in almost a little too loud voice for your liking, a small tear escaping your eye which didn’t go unnoticed in Tae’s eyes.

“Hi, I’m Park Sung-ho. She’s my lady, Y/N L/N.” Sung-Ho spoke and gave the man a handshake which he accepted, your eyes saw his ring. The ring you knew well, your promise ring, you had the same one tucked into your bra everyday.

The conversation went on smoothly, although you barely spoke a word, scared your tears would escape. Weakness was something you refused to show in front of anyone, anyone except for Tae-hyung.

“Sorry, may I know where the bathroom is?” his soft voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you cleared your throat nodding.

“I’ll walk you, let’s leave the family alone.” I answered and he nodded awkwardly walking next to you as you walked him to the bathroom. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, locking the door behind him as he caged you to the door, placing a hand on your cheek, you seemed fragile. So awful compared to the way he left you, the dark make-up you stunned now was so different to how your usual look would be.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked and you broke down, pulling him into a hug which he accepted wrapping his arms around you placing a soft kiss on your hair,

“I know that I ended it, but why didn’t you chase after me? You know me better than I do so why didn’t you stop me?” your voice barely understandable your sobs covering it

“Why didn’t I stop you?” he was crying too, although he tried to be strong for you.

“Yeah, why..?”

“I can now, let’s escape together. I love you so much, I’ve never felt this way ever since you left.” he quickly spurred out and you shook your head, tears streaming as a waterfall would.

“I can’t, I love you. I can’t. I’m too deep into this shit. Please, I want you so bad.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“You can’t Tae. You can’t, just stop. So please hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe. Please don’t say you love me.”

He placed a kiss on your lips, smashing your heart, leaving it down on a drain before escaping the bathroom a tissue on his lips, wiping off the residue from the violet lipstick.

His lips felt the same, they did. And you never wanted another kiss from anyone other than him. He was the one, but this love was impossible.

[drainedsilver]

Hi everyone, this is a one-shot inspired by the song Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey :) It’s pretty short, also TW for toxic relationship I guess? Idk. Anyways, here’s some Chris Redfield for y’all.

You're no good for me,

Baby you're no good for me,

You're no good for me,

But baby I want you,

I want you.

It always went like this, he left you in the cold room, unable to move or speak, frozen in thoughts. Maybe today would be the day that you left him. But who would he come home to after a huge mission to unwind? What would you tell your parents who you desperately begged to let you move in with him? He would leave the house once a small inconvenience happened, of course he did. And yet you were always there to welcome him back with loving arms. What a fucking fool.

I’m not gonna listen to what the past says,

I’ve been waiting up all night.

Somedays you’d have a luggage in hand and he’d block your exit and beg you to stay. He’d say that he would do better, and you believed him. He would leave the house all night and then come back drunk in Claire’s arms. She always offered to stay, but you knew better than to let her. He had too much pride to be seen the way he was. On rare ocassions, he would call you up and ask you to pick him up. And you obeyed. Fucking idiot.

Take another drag turn me to ashes

Ready for another lie?

“Chris, you need to talk to me. We can’t go on like this. You fucking asshole, talk to me. Let’s sort it out.” you begged and begged. Yet all he would do is take a drag of his strong cigarettes, which you grew to welcome the scent of and close his eyes. Was he even listening at this point? Shithead.

Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is

Say it's gonna be alright

He would roll over to his side of the bed, after hard weeks of work, he had finally come back to you. And there you were, like a dumbass. Taking all of him in, moans of pleasure in his ears. Praising him. Maybe your first red flag should have been on your third date,

“Hey, can you slow down a bit? Uh.. I don’t feel very good.” you asked of the man and he puffed out the smoke from his cigarette and just shot you a glance.

“It’s gonna be alright.”

It wasn’t.

Do you think we'll be in love forever?

Do you think we’ll be in love?

“I love you.”

It was the first time you said it, you expected more from him than a bitter

“Me too.”

But this was Chris Redfield, he didn’t want love. All he wanted was someone to come home to, and that’s all you had been. A distraction. If only you’d have figured it out sooner.

We both know just what we're here for,

Saved too many times.

He knew what you had called for, you never did when he was on missions. The other end said the words he always feared from her, but he had heard them too many times to believe them by now,

“I’m leaving you, Chris.”

Pft, sure. If only you had the balls to do as much, when he came home, he would scold you for interrupting his missions, not even a hint of worry that you didn’t wanna be there anymore. He was like a drug, you couldn’t let go.

Maybe I like this roller coaster,

Maybe it keeps me high,

Maybe the speed it brings me closer,

I could sparkle up your eye.

But maybe that’s what kept you with him, the fact that he knew you so well. No sweet words with the older man, just straight-up bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. You should’ve heard your mother’s warnings, stay away from older men. You let what scared you the most, keep you in. He had his good moments of course, so good you cry just remembering. Like how he would cook up some breakfast and bring it to your room before running you a warm bath. How he would kiss your hair or give you a nice massage when he saw you were hurt. And that’s why Chris Redfield was the worst man alive, he could keep you in, and as soon out. You don’t even remember the last time he opened up to you.

These thoughts occupied your head as you put the last shirt in the closet back to your luggage, finally doing the thing you feared most. Leaving him. As you closed the wooden door of the bedroom which you hated, you took in one last glance of the house and left, but there he was. At the door, and this time he knew he had fucked up. And there was no going back to anything.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be better. Please don’t do it.”

His words echoed in your head. Just one last time in his cold arms. That’s all you needed.

“Okay.”

[drainedsilver]

i’ve closed my eyes||levi ackerman x f!reader

warnings:(mentions of blood, swearing? that’s it?)

genre:angst, fluff ending?

word count:682

I got the idea to write this when I was in class because I really wanted to use a particular line from the song Washing Machine Heart :) Hope y’all like it!

Everything was going well so far, you had taken quite a few of their soldiers down and you stuck with Sasha, Jean and Connie trying to protect them given that you were a bit faster than them. Right when Levi was going for Kenny Ackermann, you got a little distracted and didn’t see Caven coming at you with full speed until it was a bit too late.

She jammed a knife into your abdomen going in for the second shot but not before checking behind her, seeing that Kenny was wounded and was currently fleeing. Levi looked your way and tried to come at her but she went after Kenny, removing her knife out of your wound before he could.

You were very lightheaded and let your body fall to the ground feeling strong arms pick it up and placing it down onto the weird looking floor.

“Hey… you have a cut on your cheek, get that checked out please..” you said almost out of breath.

Levi grabbed your body placing it on his legs, the dark crimson liquid covering the floor you were currently in. He let out a soft chuckle

“You got stabbed, for fuck’s sake, you should be the one resting..”

You thought back to earlier today when you were with Sasha and she shoved a lipstick on your pocket, smiling“Huh? Why did you give me this?” you asked her confused. She smiled at you before nudging your shoulder“Wear it today, I know of your liking of the captain.. It would really suit you.”“Oh my god!! Sasha I totally don’t like him like that..” you said, not even sounding convincing to yourself and sighed. She was right, but it was nothing but a stupid crush, he would never like you, not like he would ever like anyone, like that. All he focused on was working and cleaning and there was no space in his life for a significant other.

And here you were, with the man you liked so much, yet never even dared to look at in the eye. You smiled opening your mouth to speak again

“I’m not wearing my usual lipstick, I thought maybe we would kiss tonight…” you said in a voice barely audible but it went through his hears and he caressed your cheek

“Come on brat, you’ll make it. Save your breath and don’t talk.” he said placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose

“Are you s-sure” you asked , trying your hardest not to cough because you knew he was a clean freak and didn’t want to put him in a tough position.

He nodded drawing circles on your hand with his thumb, as if he hadn’t killed over twenty people barely five minutes ago.

“I’m very sure, if you don’t survive, how do you expect me to take you on a date, huh brat?” he said earning a small smile from your lips, that’s all he needed right now.

Sasha spotted you and ran asking Levi what had happened

“Captain Levi, what happened? Is she okay?” she asked and he nodded his head

“She’s alright but get her some help immediately, that’s an order.” he answered and didn’t leave your side,

“I really like your new lipstick, it suits your eyes.” “So.. will you kiss me already? Just right before I die..” that’s the last thing you’d ask for, nothing more. Just a kiss from him and you’d be just fine..

So he obeyed your final request and placed a soft peck on your painted lips making sure to not hurt you in the process. About 50000 cells woke up in your body because of how you had imagined this. The moment was short lived however he smiled after pulling away, pushing your hair to the side and giving you another kiss, this time on your temples.

Sasha ran to the Captain and your pale body, asking him to carry you to the carriage, because you would be okay. He promised you that, but even if you had died right now, you would die a happy woman.

[drainedsilver]

Levi x Reader (F) Silent Treatment

genre: mild angst, fluff

summary: Levi says something in an argument and you decide to give him the silent treatment.

Tick, Tock.

All you could hear is the clock ticking as if time is rather slow, every second the same sound radiating. The room is engulfed by silence that even the faintest of sounds reach your ears.

Two days after the most recent expedition, here you are, sitting on the couch by the lance corporal’s desk. It’s been two days and Humanity’s Strongest is still working himself out with a bundle of papers.

You glance at him with pure concern. His steely eyes are severely shadowed, a mixture of purple and grey forming under them. His ebony hair a mess as strands fail to form their usual shape. His desk is chaotic, with papers falling off to the floor, whether scanned or not.

You feel your chest tighten at the sight. This is no good. Two days have passed since everyone returned from the outside and he has not gotten any better. It’s understandable to work himself out the first day, but today shouldn’t be this much hard on him as well. He needs rest, and plenty of them.

You prep yourself as you stand up to try and convince the poor man out of his seemingly hell office. This will cause him no benefit.

“Levi,” you approach the Captain calmly, “what do you say we get out and drink some tea for a while to get you a few rest? Yes?” you smile in all hopes that he’d agree and choose to come with you.

He raises his head to look at you, and as your eyes connect with his, it’s like a thousand daggers stabbed your heart. He’s so exhausted but he doesn’t want to show it. “As much as I would like your offer, there’s still more unfinished work here and I don’t want to go slacking off without complying. But thank you otherwise.”

You are not going to give up on this.

“Levi, there are other days to do this. You don’t have to overwork yourself, in fact, you won’t finish early if you do work without any energy at all,” convincing him is one way. You wish he would just give in but he continues to sign the paper he’s previously reading, and then another, and another.

He stays quiet, not saying anything back to your proposal. He’s fixed with his rejection, but you have your spirit.

“I’m atleast going to get you your tea,” you walk away, leaving his office and sighing once you close the door behind you.

You don’t want to force him out of his state because that might stress him more, so you’ll continue to try your luck by offering and offering again.

You head to the kitchen to make a freshly brewed tea for your lover. You see Hange discussing something with the commander at the table. When Erwin sees you, he immediately asks the Captain’s whereabouts.

“He’s… still doing paperwork,” you sadly inform. Everybody’s well aware that expeditions will never avoid casualties and the responsibilities that will be dragged along with it.

“Shorty must be working himself off, huh,” Hange adjusts her glasses. You know they’re concerned for the Captain as well, even though they don’t say anything more about it.

“I’ll go now,” you smile before walking back to the office, holding Levi’s tea. You know the way he makes his tea, and he wants it perfect. Aside from himself, the only person he allows to make tea for him is you. You pray this would get him away from his desk.

Without the need to knock, you enter the room, flashing a small grin while walking up to the Captain.

“Here, I brought you some tea, it’s still hot so be extra careful.” It’s difficult finding a place for the teacup since documents are everywhere, but you clean up a spot and try to help in organizing his work.

“Thanks,” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth. Disappointed, you slowly turn your back to him, taking a step toward the couch again, but you stop midways.

“Can you lay beside me in 10? I found difficulty sleeping last night and I think I should get some rest since I have nothing else to do, and you should definitely get rest, too, so?” you suggest, not giving up on the sleep deprived man although the idea is a little weak and stupid so you know he is going to refuse right away.

“Go get your rest, I can’t leave this,” he says, not even lifting his gaze to you. You see how he still pulled off his usual nonchalant expression, nonetheless you could see right through him.

“Can I atleast help you out in any way?” you wish he would say yes, but for god’s sake, he shakes his head, holding his ground, “I don’t need your help,” as he mutters your name, his tone begins to turn so cold.

“But Levi… look at you, you’re a mess! You get no sleep these past nights, and you haven’t even eaten lunch yet! I get how this is important but you need to take care of yourself. Please—”

“Will you quit bothering me even just for once in your life?” He seethes vehemently, massaging his temples as he asks for his very own version of peace.

With that you fall silent, taken aback. Every word he insinuated stings really hard like there’s venom in it. You want to speak up for yourself and explain what you want for him, but he’s way too fixated with his objective to finish his work that he doesn’t even realize that he has caused you pain within just a few words.

You stare at the raven head dumbfoundedly, looking for words to say but you just can’t find your voice. Opening your mouth to speak is no avail. The dead silence dominates once again.

You finally decide to leave the room. Maybe it’s best you give him what he wants.

Levi thinks this it’s best, too, since he needs concentration and craves focus in hopes of lifting his conscience by clearing his responsibilities regarding every fallen soldier’s death. He doesn’t mean any harm to you. No, he would never want that. But his desire to fulfill his tasks has quite blinded him.

He raises his head to look at you, noticing your sudden silence. You’re about to turn around at the moment, but your glistening eyes fail to escape his sight.

His heart wretches by the view. You crying is the last thing he wants, especially if it’s because of him. But he’s frozen and unable to move. He’s too much of a coward to speak up and stop you from your track.

This really is his fault. All this time what you have been implying was for him to unwind even for a bit, yet all he did was ignore your sweet concern.

Your heavy footsteps echoed around the room. Tears have already fallen from your misty orbs, eventually dropping to the floor.

His attempt to call you out and apologize immediately after he lashed out is unsuccessful. You’re gone and not another word left one’s lips after what he said.

He places his palm across his face out of frustration. Too late is what he is right now. He fails to function more and more after minutes passed. He tries to go on with his work but he keep remembering the scene with you earlier. How your beautiful face of hope turned into an expression of agony and pain. None of this helps, “I have to fix this,” he murmurs to himself, afraid that you might grow distant as time passes by.

—

You wipe your eyes, fixing your appearance in an attempt to look decent before going to the mess hall to get your dinner.

Armin approaches you first, asking your condition. You’re clueless about what condition it is that he means but you figure it’s probably his immediate observation of your feelings at the second.

“Are you alright?” His eyes are curious and concerned, but you wave him off with a small smile, “I’m fine, Armin. You get too observant at times, don’t you? What’s for dinner?”

Joining the others, you eat slowly. You can’t help but think of your partner. This causes your stomach to swirl. You try your best to get him out of your mind.

“These mashed potatoes are awesome!” Sasha exclaims, munching like lightning. Christa giggles, finding Sasha’s addiction with potatoes adorable.

Eren smiles but stays quiet. Seems he is still affected by the previous expedition. He catches you looking at him and you smile.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks. You nodded and ask him back, “How about you? Haven’t moved on from recently?”

He gives a small reassuring smile, “I’m coping.”

Conversations came and went. Everyone returns to their quarters to get some sleep, and you’re left all alone. The deafening sound of silence has dominated your ears. You heave out a sigh.

You finally erased Levi from your head for a while, but when you go to the kitchen for a tea, you almost immediately spot across the room the man you’re so desperately trying to avoid, sipping his own cup of tea while leaning against the table. It’s the one you made for him earlier, you could tell by the choice of teacup. But shouldn’t it be cold by now?

Abort.

You try to leave unnoticed but you hear him call you.

“Speak to me,” his tired eyes bore to your own broken ones, secretly pleading you to talk to him. He had dismissed his uniform jacket and only wore his undershirt. The sight of him just has to tear your heart into several pieces. You need to stay strong. You don’t want to shatter in front of him, or you’ll only end up burdening him.

I’m just a bother, after all.

You refuse to talk, so you leave the room in a rush. You feel your eyes mist again. You blink a few times to stop the tears from forming and run to the women’s quarters instead of Levi’s room, the one you both share every night without hitch.

The bed below Mikasa’s has been vacant ever since you stayed in Levi’s room. In your head, you thank all the walls that no one new had been recruited to your squad so that you can still use your bed from before for desperate times like this.

Everyone else is already asleep so you don’t have to answer their interrogations about what a miracle it is for you to spend the night in your old bed, without the Captain.

As you lay down, you close your eyes in hopes of falling asleep quickly, but your bed just feels lonely and sad. The mattress feels emptier than ever, and the atmosphere in the room feels dark, even if your comrades are complete in the same room.

You begin to toss and turn, recalling the scenes from earlier. This isn’t any help, but then again, being in the same room as Levi won’t do any of you good. You’d just distract him, like what you can only do.

On the other hand, behind your locked doors stands Levi, aiming to knock. And he did, but no one responds. Why? Why did you not respond? He knew you went there. He just knows it, because where else would you be? He knocks one more time and that’s when he guesses that you might be sleeping already. He knows better than to disrespect his other comrades’ privacy and enter without permission. With his conclusion, he finally heads back to his room and tries to finish all the messy paperwork, looking at the door once in a while, hoping for you to enter and ask him to rest with you. But you didn’t.

Tick, Tock.

The sound of the clock’s hands ticking feeds on the silence of the room. You wake up and there’s light already.

You shoot up from the bed. Mikasa is already awake, as you know she is the earliest of birds. She looks at you with amusement, and you roll your eyes.

“What in the world happened between you and Captain Levi for you to come back here?” she asks. You answered her with a grimace.

You change back into a spare uniform you had left in the quarters before heading to the mess hall once again. Levi is already there, seated with Erwin and the others. Hange offers you a seat unfortunately across Levi which you accept defeatedly, for there are no more available seats anywhere. Avoiding him is hard, and you should probably deal with constantly encountering him today. You have duties like cleaning in the morning and training after lunch, so a lingering Captain is not unnatural.

“What time did you sleep last night?” Levi asks, which you ignore. You scoop the hot soup and blow the steam off before sipping it. “Answer me,” no one could hear you conversing—scratch that—him speaking. Everyone from the table had a discussion that doesn’t include yhe two of you.

“Why did you not answer my knocks?” he asks once more but you only sip your tea. You so desperately wanted to answer him with a sarcastic, “because maybe I’m asleep, don’t you think?” but you stop yourself from doing so and stayed quiet.

His eyebrows twitch in annoyance. You think he has to deal with this. And he will, because there’s no way your pride will let you talk to him. Although you’re tough enough to convince yourself not to say a single word to him, you still feel guilt rushing through your veins. Aren’t times like these the times when you should understand him the most and swallow your pride?

But he said it himself didn’t he? He wants you to get off of his neck and quit pestering him, and you’re just one to follow.

You shake the thought away and continue eating. Soon after you finish, you all proceed to your cleaning duties. Apparently and unluckily, as if fate just doesn’t want to cooperate with you, you‘re assigned to clean the Captain’s room which is just downright unfair. At this point, talking to him will be inevitable.

You sigh exasperatedly with cleaning equipment in your hands. You try to convince Jean who hates cleaning the stables to exchange tasks, but he says he’d prefer picking horseshit with his bare hands than have to clean the Captain’s office. Aside from him, no one wants to swap tasks with you, knowing how hard it is to satisfy the Captain with some mediocre cleaning skills.

Accepting defeat once again, you knock three times before waiting for Levi’s reply, “name and business,” his certain cold voice replies.

“It’s me, I was assigned to clean your office.” Silence follows. You figure that you should enter and you don’t fail to notice the slightest smirk in Levi’s lips.

What an asshole.

Brushing aside the man’s presence, you go on and start sweeping the floor. You just want to finish this quickly to be able to get away from him.

“You’re sweeping too fast, you’re not picking up all the dust,” Levi remarks. You furrow your brows and roll your eyes heavenwards in total annoyance, “do it all over again,” he orders.

And you obey, quietly. Besides, it wouldn’t favor you if you object. You’d have to speak.

Meanwhile, Levi couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’s supposed to finish his “work” today but his mind is somewhere else. Of course he hasn’t forgotten yesterday. But what he said was not his intention.

You begin to mop.

“Did you wash that with soap?” he asks which you, once again, ignore. This is getting on his nerves. He wants to hear your voice. He wants to say he was sorry, but he couldn’t pick up the strength to do so because he’s afraid. Afraid he might hurt you again with his reckless words. Actually, no. He’s more than certain that he’d never throw you such words again. Rather, he’s more afraid that you would just shrug off his apology and keep giving him the cold shoulder. Then, he chooses not to speak anymore. Silence engulfs the room.

Tick, tock.

Once you finish cleaning, you leave the room. He didn’t even try to stop you from leaving or even just speak again. Why would he even do that anyways?

Afternoon comes and training quickly starts. Your hand to hand combat with Eren attracted a lot of attention from your mates. You’re now sweaty, fists tightly balled mid air. Eren’s fighting stance is now a little sloppy as he catches his breath. You chuckle at the sight. It’s now time to end this battle before he gets exhausted even more, you think with pure concern, an image of a tired Eren flashing through your head.

“Oi! Finish this already!” Jean cheers, on your side.

“You have to beat her, Eren! She just becomes stronger and stronger every session!” Sasha jokingly shouts with Armin laughing a bit on his own.

As the fight becomes more and more heated, you aim for his guts in the stomach as you perform a perfect uppercut once he’s distracted. And of course, you eventually win with that final move. He lays on the ground helplessly, not being able to stand up for ten seconds.

You offer your hand to him. He accepts it and you help him stand up. Slowly, the crowd gathered around you disperses and goes their separate ways. You stay with Eren. You’re fond of talking with your opponent right after a match like this.

“You seriously have to teach me some of your skills!” Eren says, catching his breath. You’re both heading inside.

You chuckle, “You’re getting better, kid,” you ruffle his hair. His shoulders slump down in annoyance. He’s well aware that he’s far from your abilities, not to mention, you’re the second in command of the Captain.

“I don’t understand how you’re shorter than I am, but you still manage to beat me and ruffle my hair like this!” You both laugh at his statement.

From your peripheral vision, you see Levi standing with crossed arms by your far left, looking at you and your companion. His dark aura radiates, taking over the atmosphere of the open field. Something tells you that he’s awfully jealous, but for what reason? Eren quickly notices.

“Hey, I think you should go to Captain right now, I don’t want him to think…” he hesitantly states.

“No, it’s okay,” you calmly assure him. A few moments later and it’s already dinner time, and you proceed to the mess hall once again.

You sit beside Eren, conversing with him about a couple of military equipment. You notice that Levi sit in front of you again, but you pay no attention, even though guilt cripples through your veins. You always sit beside him every meal, but for the fourth time, you don’t.

You continue to discuss about certain materials that the 3DMG is composed of, educating Eren of their functions. As you sip on your tea, you notice Levi staring firmly at you, his gaze never leaving. But you refuse to acknowledge his steel grey eyes, standing by your principle of giving him the silent treatment.

You finish your meal and get up to bring your plates to the sink. Just as you’re about to leave, you’re approached by the sight of your Captain glaring at your soul.

You’re at a loss for words. Not that you want to talk anyway.

“I’m telling you, if you still don’t speak to me…” he says, blocking your way.

Levi crosses his arms. “You’re enjoying the whole day with that brat, aren’t you?” he begins to converse. “What are you even talking about? The both of you? You were talking non-stop, woman.” You stare at him with an emotionless expression. Slight anger and frustration dance in his tired and sleepless eyes. This only confirms your thoughts from earlier that he is, indeed, jealous. “And you even ended that match with him because you didn’t want to drain his energy,” he adds. He knows, he can read his lovely, caring girl so well. You care about everyone half the time, and he doesn’t want to admit, but right now, he is jealous.

He’s wearing his white button down shirt and suspenders. He has never failed to attract you with even the most common outfits and uniform. How can he be just so hot?

You shake your thoughts away, trying to walk past him but he grips your wrist and pulls you back in front of him. “Tell me, have you perhaps… had a change of heart?” Surprised, you quickly look at your lover’s eyes, and find they’re filled with loneliness and sorrow. You feel your heart shattering into thin little shreds. I can’t handle this sight!

You weaken with his touch, you want to tell him no, you could never do that and that you love him and him only, but you stay silent that you’re almost convinced you were now mute.

“Shit,” he curses, ruffling his hair out of frustration before he drags you away from that place. Your heart races and you couldn’t think straight. You miss him, and you can’t deny how hard a day is without him.

Tick, Tock.

The next thing you know you’re in his immensely cold and silent office, pinned to the wall like a prey being feasted on by its predator.

“You’re driving me crazy, and I hate it, woman,” his eyes are dark, like his emotions have been making him lose it. You look away, avoiding his gaze but to no avail. He lifts your chin and direct your face to his.

“Look, this cold treatment you’re giving me is not helping anyone. I’m more distracted than I could ever be and I haven’t finished the same damn pile of paperwork from yesterday until now. So just talk to me, and let’s get out off this mess,” he calmly states in a quiet manner, as if trying to own his mistakes by acting well behaved.

By this time, you know he already regrets his previous actions. And even though you’re no stranger to Levi’s tall walls and his apathetic behavior, you just had to make him voice out his apologies.

“Speak…” You look at him in his eyes filled with mixed emotions. Rage, loss, guilt, sorrow, doubt. You’re the only one among everyone who can see this because you’re the only one he can be vulnerable with. Once again, you feel your heart break into pieces.

“Levi…” His face lightened up with your call. Your voice is soft and mellow. Finally, you spoke! It was such a torture, a day without your beautiful voice. The poor Captain is glad to hear you again, but is taken aback by your next words, so he cuts you off before you could even finish. “Maybe we should just—”

“Fuck! Wait! Don’t fucking do this to me, I’m sorry! I’m a jerk… I know, I know. Give me another chance, hey…” Your eyes widen at his pleas. Overflowing fear and nervousness are written in his misty steel orbs. He frantically holds your hands and you could feel his desperation.

“What?” you ask in genuine confusion. You’re glad he said his sorries, but why is he acting like you were going to leave him?

“Come on… don’t you dare leave me. I’m sorry.” And there you could tell how afraid he is. He’s afraid by your choice of words, he thought you were going to leave him and now he’s so desperate of making you stay.

You slowly rest your palms on his cheeks, “Levi… you got this wrong, I was just going to—” He places his hands on top of yours before interrupting again.

“Hey… you don’t have to end things, let’s not be so sudden with our decisions and let’s talk about this—” his voice is weak and silent that you can’t bear it anymore. “Levi! I am not going to end things and leave you! Have you gone crazy?” you scold in a manner of wishing he would just stop panicking.

“I was going to say that maybe we should just be careful next time and not be so reckless with our words. You just didn’t let me finish!” you chuckle as you notice his realization. He winces, his glowing eyes now dried from the threatening tears. You’re glad not a single drop escaped, you can’t see him crying or you’ll lose it.

“Fuck, I sounded so desperate,” he hisses and averts his gaze, making you drop your hands. You can almost feel your heart melt. He regrets his mistakes and at the same time, he’s horrified to lose you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles in an almost inaudible tone. You want him to look you in the eye. His apathetic self have caused him to say the expression almost never, and you want to feel his sincerity in a rare occasion like this. You guide his face to your own. “What is it? I didn’t hear,” you tease, playing innocent.

He grimaces, an indication that he doesn’t want to repeat. But for you, he will. “I said I’m sorry, so don’t do that again,” his tone returns to his popular authoritative one, and at that moment you know you should obey.

“Don’t do what?” You bite your lips to stifle a smirk. He is so amusing when helpless, you’re beginning to think this was a good idea!

“Give me the cold shoulder like I’m some stranger or whatever the fuck,” he furrows his brows as he glares straight into your eyes.

“Alright, Captain.” You giggle and tiptoe to reach his soft lips with your own, kissing him intensely like how you missed him. And he answers your kisses like how he missed you, too.

[drainedsilver]

i’m always so surprised  by the decor of random mcdonalds??

in new york?

in hungary??

in dc??

[drainedsilver]

FaceTime calls with me, a slytherin and my friend, a hufflepuff

My friend: *squealing about how they’re scared of being home alone*

Me: I want a pickle… *leaves to go get pickle*

My friend: *continues screaming*

Me: crunch crunch *stares blankly*

[drainedsilver]

happy birthday tom riddle :)

[drainedsilver]

All I could think of when I say this was..

(A.K.A. That one post by @mrlukeharper)

[drainedsilver]

The Snake and the Gryphon

PLATONIC TOM RIDDLE x READER

REQUEST: Can u please make a Tom Riddle (from the half-blood prince) imagines where u are a Gryffindor and some Slytherins laugh at you but he defends you? - belieberlovesel

re-uploaded. unedited.

thanks for reading! xx

The sullen stares were normal, an environment more natural between the two opposing Houses than otherwise. It was a belief you all had, that this was a joke, a little antic to amuse the professors: to force rivals to ‘socialise’ in merged classes of Slytherins and Gryffindors. Thanks to this, it was in Potions that you met the curious boy.

Tom Riddle was an intelligent student – perhaps, too intelligent. His intellect rather alarmed you at first, the fleeting intensity of his calculating gaze enough to discomfort you. And his preference for Slytherin purebloods was not unknown. Naturally, you and the other Gryffindor students avoided him; to the point where most of you dared not even look in his direction.

There were few who liked him. The ones to note were Professor Dumbledore – but he was a man who disliked, perhaps, no one – and the Potions professor, Slughorn. That was not surprising: the man tended to dabble in favouritism and was a Slytherin himself.  So, when Tom was invited to the Slug Club, it was no surprise, everyone had been expecting it – it would have been shocking otherwise.

You wouldn’t have cared, until you got an invitation yourself. It sparked elation in you, in a moment all your hard-work and dedication had been paid off, all those nights studying worth it now that they were being noticed. But, then, for some reason, it faded. Classes were awkward enough when merged between Houses, now a club…? For a second, you considered declining. But no! You had worked so hard, there was no way you would throw this opportunity out for a seed of doubt.

The first meeting came, and you could barely breathe. Being the Head of Slytherin House, it was natural for Professor Slughorn to be close to the Slytherin students, and so there was a good amount of them in the Club. There was an enmity between Gryffindor and Slytherin that had bled into generations, passed down from family to family, to even now. At such close proximity to one another, you wondered if the palpable tension would soon lead to genuine trouble.

Therefore, you decided to keep your head down, and just listen.

It worked well. Any bickering went past you, glares were never directed at you, you learned a lot, and most of the students not in your House even came to appreciate you. You became content in your role as a quiet observer.

Until, one day, he observed you.

His voice was calm when he addressed you. The utterance of your name sent your heart into a flurry. Both startled and a little panicked, you jumped in your seat, and turned to face the familiar voice – only to realise that the face was even more familiar.

“The professor has asked me to determine whether you are alright or not.” His eyes seemed to dissect your soul. It was a gaze you could not hold for too long. “You barely speak, and when you do it is not in complete sentences. It’s been a few meetings already, and you have been quiet it them all. Is anything the matter?”

You cleared your throat. “No?”

Tom narrowed his eyes. You glanced up, and even in that fleeting moment when your gazes locked, you saw the whispers of his mind behind those eyes, thoughts flickering, always observing, always learning.

“Why,” there was a hint of curiosity in his voice, “do you answer if it were a question?”

You picked at your sleeve.

“You are not alright.” It was no longer a question, but his conclusion.

“No. I am.” You wanted him to leave. “I am, I’m fine.”

The other students were staring now, too, perplexed just as much as you were as to why Tom Riddle had approached you. Fellow Gryffindors began to whisper amongst each other, then, as if choosing who was best suited to rescue you, one of them came to your side.

“Is everything alright?” She placed a hand on your shoulder but levelled her gaze on Tom.

“Yes,” you replied, almost lamely.

Tom’s nonchalance seemed to irk the girl. “I was just asking [Y/N] the same.”

“Mmm.” She was a familiar enough face, a little older than you, friends with more Hufflepuffs, but sometimes you’d see her around the Common Room with her head buried in a book. For her to come to your rescue was the sweetest thing someone could ever do for you. She smiled down at you as she said, “Want to come sit with us, [Y/N]?”

For some unknown reason, you glanced towards Tom. He was watching you still. Your gaze lingered. “Thank you, really. But… I suppose I have a bit of a headache. I think I’d like to stay on my own for a little while. Just until it goes away.”

The girl pursed her lips, gave a reluctant nod. “Okay. But we’re right over there if you need us.”

She glared at Tom before turning, but called back to you again, “Come sit with us if you’re feeling better, [Y/N]. Anytime, okay?”

You started to regret not having gone with her already, but you weren’t really lying; you could feel the onset of a headache coming. You were picking at your sleeve again when Tom took a step forward.

“What should I tell Professor Slughorn?”

You startled. “I… don’t know. Tell him I’m okay, I guess.”

He tilted his head to the side. “But you have a headache.”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

A moment passed. He seemed to be hesitating, turning ever so slightly every few seconds, and although he was angling away his eyes remained on you. Leave, you kept thinking. Goodness, just leave.

“Very well, [Y/N].” At last, he turned. But, as he walked away, you noticed that he did not move towards Professor Slughorn, nor that the man was paying you any heed.

Odd, you thought.

Days passed. In potions, your determination to avoid Riddle’s gaze only heightened, but despite doing so, you began to notice his gaze was often focused in your direction.

“He’s staring again,” your friends would whisper to you. “Guard your soul, [Y/N]. He looks as if he’ll steal it from you.”

You hoped, rather than believed, that he was concentrating on something else, somebody else, anything else in your vicinity. You were scribbling on your parchment one day when curiosity got the better of you. You felt your head turn, eyes searching, until you found his table and, as your breath caught in your throat in anticipation, you discovered that yes, he was looking at you. But his face betrayed no emotion. He did not even seem to react as you stared right back at him. He just watched you – and in those eyes again you saw his mind working, thoughts a blur too fast to pin down. And it frightened you.

None of you knew what his head held, what thoughts and ideas dwelled in that cerebral mind of his – and, quite honestly, no one really wanted to know. Some things were better left as mysteries.

As you gathered your books at the end of class, Tom’s robes billowed as he rushed past. As he did, he laid a note at the top of your stack of books. To say you were shocked would be a gross understatement. Confusion sent your mind into chaos; you could not comprehend why he would leave you a note.

Your hands fumbled when you unfolded the note – there was only one way of finding out.

Meet me at the Black Lake after classes. – T.R.

Those words were all you thought about all day. A message so puzzling that you tried and tried and tried to piece it together, but the puzzle pieces were all in a disarray, and you were left as confused as ever the more you thought about it. Your friends grew suspicious when you quietened for too long, stared at your books for too long in thought (the note hidden in the pages of your Potions book), and those who sat with you in Potions were the most wary.

“Why did Tom Riddle give you a note?” one asked as you walked to your last class.

“Is he troubling you? You want us to tussle with him? Tell him to leave you be? ’Cause we will. Gladly.”

You found yourself lying. “It was nothing. Just information about the next Slug Club meeting.”

When your last class was over your mind became numb. You had thought and thought, and thought some more. Until your head could take no more. You had your theories, your suspicions, some wild, nightmarish fantasies in which Tom would drown you in the in the lake for fun. But none of them seemed right. You had no idea what he wanted to meet you for. It couldn’t be, you thought, that he fancied you. That would be ridiculous! Impossible, you were sure. You almost laughed out loud in the middle of class at the idea.

All you could assume was that it had something to do with the Slug Club.

I shouldn’t go. You concluded. He’s not my friend.

And yet, you found yourself at the Black Lake. The grim Scottish weather matched your own mind as your feet, trudging in the grass, carried you to where his figure sat near the water. A heavy book lay in his lap. His perfectly straight back was turned to you, and if it were not for the wind tousling his dark hair, you’d have thought he was a statue.

At your approaching footsteps, he turned to you. A statue’s face, you thought, as impassive as always – but his eyes were too sharp to not be alive.

Again, there was no change, no smile, not even a little pull of his facial muscles. He just observed you.

Stopping a few feet away, you watched him in return. “Hey,” you managed, but it was too soft and was swept away in the wind.

Tom’s gaze dropped to your hands, fumbling, twisting, a nervous trait he noticed sparked in his presence. With a slight tilt of his head, the rarest of things occurred in that moment, a sight you had never glimpsed in all the time you’d known him… Tom Riddle smiled.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” The tremor in your hands continued and he remained watching them. “I just wanted to talk to you. To have a conversation. A proper one.”

“Why?” Again, your voice trembled too much, no match for the wind. A little frustrated, you managed at last to call out, loud enough for him to hear, “I don’t understand. It’s no secret you’re not too fond of my House. You prefer Pureblood Slytherins. So why do you want to speak with me?”

His sharp eyes met yours – it felt as if you had been cut. “It doesn’t matter that you’re a Gryffindor. You… You fascinate me.” He set his book aside as he said, “You would be a perfect Slytherin.”

You almost choked, laughing out a “What?”

Tom stood, a motion too fluid, black robes billowing in the wind like a dark cloud around his form. He smiled again, “You’re ambitious. Cunning, but not so much that it would compromise your good heart. But still, cunning, enough to lie and evade your fellow Gryffindor student.”

“No. No, I did have a headache.”

“You convinced yourself that you had a headache. It was a pretence, but your guilt made it true after you lied.”

At your frown, he gave a low chuckle, “It’s fine, [Y/N]. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your ambition is an extension of your conscientious, of your zeal for knowledge, for success. It’s an aspiration to see your hard work, your outstanding grades, lead to a future you can be proud of. You underestimate yourself. Despite knowing of the more than likely tension that would arise in the Slug Club, you still accepted the invitation. Because your ambitious.” He regarded you with what seemed like appreciation for a fleeting moment. “Your diligence is respectable, [Y/N], not shameful.”

Dazed, you could only stare back at him. The whisper of the wind washed over the silence. You couldn’t understand him, no matter how hard you tried. It hurt your head to even attempt to.

“I’m still a Gryffindor,” you found yourself saying. “Even if I’d… make a perfect Slytherin…”

Tom Riddle shrugged. “As I said, it doesn’t matter.”

“So…” You pressed your lips together, narrowing your eyes at him in thought. Murmuring, you asked, “You want to be… friends?”

“Acquaintances,” he corrected. “Knowledge and learning are of great value to us both. How about we do our homework together, here, henceforth.”

No, you thought. No. Run away, [Y/N]. Run as far from him as you can.

And yet, you nodded.

Three weeks had passed. Stealing off after classes became more and more difficult as your friends started to notice. In the first week, you would make the vaguest of excuses, uncertain of what else you could come up with, which led them to assume you were secretly “seeing” someone. Incessant teasing began, and so did the dread – what would they say if they knew exactly who you were sneaking off to meet (though, their assumption of it being a tryst was hilariously wrong!). There was no doubt such a revelation wouldn’t end well.

Even now, though it had been weeks, you still felt uncomfortable around Tom. He had eased into your acquaintanceship much more naturally. The silence of your meetings seemed to be a comfort he enjoyed; though, to you, it was just a tad too on the awkward side.

You’d be bent over your books, nervously glancing around every so often to see if anyone was around, when sometimes you’d catch him smiling at you (no doubt amused by your wariness). He had started to sit closer to you; would get up and greet you when you approached, usually late and running out of breath as the task of evading your friends was getting harder; and sometimes laid his Potions book between you and suggested you work on homework together. He started out sitting three seats from your own at Slug Club; then two seats away at the next meeting; then one; until he was sitting by your side.

Gryffindors and Slytherins alike began to notice it: his quiet partiality to you.

Still, you didn’t quite know what you were to him… or, what he was to you. If the status of acquaintanceship was yet achieved, on your part at least, you didn’t know.

It wasn’t until after the recent Quidditch match that you found yourself being the first to trudge to the Black Lake. One of your friends was the Keeper and had been distressed when Gryffindor lost to Slytherin. The latter House’s mockeries had swelled, and so your friends had begun to return it all with bite. Tired of all the tensions, you had asked Tom if he’d meet you in the weekend to tackle the sudden swarm of homework Slughorn had swamped on his classes. For once, you were eager to study with Tom.

He hadn’t arrived yet when you sat down. Despite it being the weekend, you still had your Gryffindor scarf wrapped around your neck to protect your skin from the cold. You sat scratching away at your parchment with your quill when footsteps drew close. At first, you thought it was Tom. But, as they grew nearer, you realised, with each footfall, that there was more than just one person.

“Well, well.” An unfamiliar voice called, harsh in its coldness. “Look at this. A Gryffindor, all on their own.”

Before you knew what was happening, you felt your scarf being wrenched from your neck. For a moment, the harsh yank choked you, but at last it slipped off. Coughing, you watched as it was thrown into the cold waters of the lake, an odd contrast of colour among its dark surface.

A Slytherin boy squatted down at your side. “It’s not a good idea to be all alone. You never know what might happen. No friends to protect you. No one to help you.”

You hurried to your feet, scrambling to get as far from him as possible. Four Slytherin boys surrounded you, laughing at your panicked expression, a gleeful malice in their eyes.

“There’s no reason to start any trouble.” Your attempt to reason with them fell on uncaring ears. They closed in around you like bars of a cage. “Please. I’ll leave.”

Being polite was of no help. Terror flared when one of them feigned a charge, but pulled back with a laugh. You felt as if there was no breath in you as they closed in… closer— closer— closer—

“Leave [her/him/them] alone.”

The five of you turned towards the voice. It was not just you who was surprised to find Tom standing there. Nonchalantly, he twisted his wand between his forefingers.

Nonchalantly, he was defending you.

“Riddle?” The first boy, who had snatched your scarf, straightened at his coming. “What are you doing here?”

Tom gripped his wand in his fists, grip tight. “I came to study with [Y/N]. You’re all interrupting. Leave.”

The boy gave a bark of laughter, more out of surprise than anything else. “You’ve come to study with… [her/him/them]? A Gryffindor? That’s— What? Are you mad?”

“Perhaps you’re all selectively deaf. I said, leave.”

There was silence. It fell in a deafening sweep, muffling all sounds in your ears until all you could hear were the wild beats of your heart. But, your eyes, they were focused – too focused; each subtle movement drew your gaze: the shifts of the bullies’ feet; the twitch of their fingers; the bob of an Adam’s apple when one gulped too hard; and Tom… There was a calm storm of emotions, each flickering behind his eyes, replaced by one or the other as he watched them all – staring, observing, thinking.

And in that moment, you knew. You knew how much danger these boys were in.

Before they could draw their wands, Tom flicked his, his harsh incantation a hiss that was too heavy to reach your ears. Their screams seemed to crash into your ears. Flinching, you covered your eyes in dread.

Again, there was silence. But now, you could hear the breeze, the chirp of birds in trees ahead, the soft approach of footsteps. There were just no human sounds.

Oh no, you thought.

Cautiously, you lowered your hands. Each blink processed a new scene; the boys lay sprawled on the ground; Tom was crouched down at the instigator’s side, tracing his features with the tip of his wand in thought; then, at last, two of them began to move, groans getting louder and louder; the instigator woke, cried out in shock, and scrambled far from Tom. They all rose, tripping over their own feet as they ran, their grunts of pain and desperation carrying back on the wind to where you stood. Never once did any of them dare to look back.

Tom stood. The movement drew your attention, but it took a moment too long before you could meet his gaze. He approached, and you almost took a step back.

“Where is your scarf?” He stopped before you, wand raised at your neck. “It’s cold. You always wear it.”

Dazed, you nodded towards the lake. Tom frowned. It was the slightest change in the usual apathetic nature of his face – and very being – but it was there. You hadn’t imagined it.

“Do you have replacements?” he asked.

“Y—yes,” you nodded.

He paused. Then, took a step closer. “Good.”

It burst forth, “Tom, why did you—” But Tom had been anticipating it.

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt my friend.”

You stared.

Friend. He had called you his friend…

Tom walked past you. When he returned, he had your books, and held them out to you. Nervous, still a little dazed, and honestly relieved that he hadn’t truly hurt anybody, you took them, careful not to touch his hands. He noticed – but smiled, amused again at your quirks.

He pulled his Slytherin scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around yours. “It’s the weekend. Come, let’s go to Hogsmeade.”

“Hmm?” Startled, you continued, “Really? What about Potions homework?”

“We’ll still have tonight, and tomorrow.”

“But—”

Tom scoffed. “All right, we can do our work. I suppose you’re not keen for sweets. Or butterbeer. Or some time off to rela—”

“No.” You smiled, laughing a little as you hugged your books to your chest. “No, I do. I was just a little… I don’t know, surprised, is all.”

He tugged at the scarf, pulling it tighter around your neck to ensure the wind did not reach past its warmth. “So? Shall we?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Tom, let’s go. We’re friends after all. And friends do fun stuff together, too, right?”

Tom watched your features. But all there was, was relief, content, and gratitude. He nodded, “I don’t know. But you and I, I’m sure we will.”

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED:  you are now a mass-murderer’s friend! press X to RE-PLAY

will probably edit. stay tuned. :)

[drainedsilver]

mc: *hugs atlas*

atlas: what was that?

mc: affection

atlas: disgusting

atlas:

atlas: do it again

[drainedsilver]

I wasn’t sold on Zeph being a traitor until

If you look at the Sentry footage

1.why are you playing as zeph and not just watching

2.why is “calm down, she’s probably dead by now” even an option. I didn’t pick it but it is super sketchy. Either way, he doesn’t seem at all worried about MC falling into the mirror realm

I could make a case for any of the group to be in the mirror dimension, honestly but that one scene really put me on my guard with Zeph

[drainedsilver]

Let’s be real with each other. The person going through the mirrors is most likely to be Zeph. 

[drainedsilver]

i’ve been looking for ages, does anyone have screenshots of how atlas describes each of mc’s friend because they call Beckett the “stiff, fancy one” and i’m dying to know descriptions of shreya and griffin

[drainedsilver]

oh wow a mood

[drainedsilver]

ilb is genuinely like, the first book where i can’t pick a single li. i love all four of them so much and they’re all great in their own ways. im gonna be screwed when the book gets to the “pick who you end up with” moment.

[drainedsilver]

[drainedsilver]

Ajay has a reason for reacting the way he did

From what I’ve observe He struggles a lot with actually thinking he’s good enough. Like Erin said he doesn’t want to pick sides. (He kind of did I don’t think he realized it)

When he said that he puts the show first and then the MC is clever and *could* have done it. It seems he wants to apeal to the rest of the gang. Possibly also trying to make the MC feel better. (unlikely but could be possible) We’re told early on in the story he has had problems with getting to close to people while working on theater stuff.

(For those of you who did not spend diamonds on that scene the wiki states he had a crush on a girl, she had a crush on another guy they could not stay friends afterwords and she dated the other guy. They began to have problems in their relationship and this resulted in her leaving the play 3 days before it was done. It was a disaster and took a blow to Ajay’s confidence.)

He wants to get the show done even if it hurts someone in the process. But that does mean he does not care.

He initially gives the MC the benifit of the doubt he likely felt pressured to not side with you but he didn’t exactly state his agreement. After this event he will likely feel bad for the false accusation against the MC and realize what he did was wrong. He should honestly know even though the MC is clever they also care about their friends. After the realization he may possibly learn he cannot push people away. The play will not be successful if everyone is mad at each other.

In conclusion Ajay is acting on previous trauma he has experienced while working on another project. This is the first play he’s done since that experience. Either he will realize half way that this is a problem (unlikely) and feel bad. Or he will realize after the events of the drama that he went back and approved a similar problem that could have made his play once again a disaster. Whatever he does he will feel bad.

Tbh I kind of still like Ajay so I could be biased I tried to do this without an opinion