#actually no. i hope that EVERYONE on the dash today has something that sparks joy for them the way ryomina does for me.

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 14

HAHAAA BACK IN BUSINESS BABY!

Hope you enjoy this one!!

Jesse sat against the broken column by the shrine’s entrance, a breeze brushing against his face. He brought his eyes up, looking at the clear blue sky through the ravine’s crack and listening to the faint conversations coming from inside the shrine. There was nothing for him here.

No answers to Lukas’ whereabouts, nothing about what The Awakening was planning next, the only thing these past few gatherings have given him was discomfort.

Nell was usually the one to talk him into attending each Gathering, but she was sick today. This was his first time coming here alone, and hopefully his last. Being by himself made him even more aware of how everything felt… Off. Whenever members saw him walk in, they’d stop by his seat to say hi and talk about what’s going on, if he was enjoying his visits, simple small talk. However, something everyone seemed too comfortable with was how close they’d get to him. Jesse was never too big on people being near or putting their hands on him, the only exceptions being a quick handshake, a pat on the back from his friends, or Aiden messing with his hair to annoy him. Those were harmless and only lasted a moment. But whenever Jesse would step into the shrine, he'd see a few people’s faces light up as they’d walk over to him with arms open wide, ready to hug him as if they were best friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. They’d pull him close, place their hand on his shoulder as they spoke about their day, and refused to loosen their grip even when he asked. Some people would look genuinely hurt when he pulled away.

There would be nights where these Awakening individuals, Nell included, would spot Jesse on the streets. Those were the worst days. The way they’d look at him with big, bright smiles that stretched from ear to ear, walking up to him and asking if he was coming to this week’s Gathering made him feel terrible. He didn’t want to keep coming, he already felt like he was betraying his own friends, but he was afraid of how the members would react if he refused to return.

He knew the members meant well and were just trying to be nice, at least, that’s what he believed, but they’re all so unaware of how horrible their leaders actually are.

“No, they aren’t called ‘leaders’,” He remembered Nell telling him before one of the Gatherings, “they’re Visions! They look after us.”

Brenner and Mahlon, the ‘Visions’, the individuals who preached about helping others, the individuals who gave guidance to their members and offered their support during trying times were the same individuals who unleashed their horrific lava creation onto the world. They were the same people who took away lives and watched the world burn with no remorse.

They were terrible.

Jesse had watched the older, white haired Vision--the man who had screamed vile curses at him and his friends--happily play with children outside of the shrine. He’d sit on the grass and tell them stories about The Awakening and The Hero after the Gatherings were over. It was so surreal to witness.

The Visions might’ve fooled these misguided people, but they haven’t fooled Jesse. He was waiting for someone, the leaders, Cecil, anyone to slip up and reveal their next scheme, but nothing’s happened yet. If they haven’t hinted at anything these past few weeks who knows how long it’ll take them. Jesse can’t keep coming here forever. Aiden and Olivia had questioned why he’s been leaving the house more often, and who the blonde woman greeting him every now and then was. He knew the excuses: “I just need to clear my head” and “Someone I kinda know” will only last him so long.

Today was going to be his last visit. There was nothing for him here.

“Is all well?” Jesse heard an older man ask. He brought his head up. Standing over him was one of the Visions. Mahlon. The Vision’s head was tilted down slightly, his foggy eye focused more on the broken column rather than the boy below.

“Yeah--Yes, Vision… Sir.” When Jesse spoke the Vision lowered his head more, ‘staring’ more in the direction from where Jesse’s voice came.

“No need to be so formal.” The old man chuckled, “You can call me by my name.” Mahlon said as he sat besides Jesse.

“You’re Jesse, if I remember correctly? Our newest member?” Mahlon asked.

“Right.” Jesse said through gritted teeth, his body stiff as a board. He tried to lean away from Mahlon. Just the thought of being associated with these people made him sick.

“And how are you liking it here?” Mahlon spoke gently, his voice was slightly hoarse.

Jesse answered with a lie, “It’s nice here.” He was afraid of locking eyes with Mahlon. He was half expecting the man’s blindness to be another deceiving trick, but anytime Jesse glanced at him, he saw a genuine look of curiosity on Mahlon’s face, like he wanted to hear more.

The mixture of Mahlon’s pleasant expression and Jesse’s fear of upsetting him prompted him to keep lying. He lied about the new friends he’s made here, how each Gathering had connected with him, and how much their words meant to him. As he kept lying, Mahlon kept smiling. Jesse couldn’t take his eyes off of Mahlon’s burn scar. Most of the old man’s face had been taken over by this fleshy-pink scar that stretched from the bottom left of his face all the way to the top right in a somewhat diagonal manner. The only remaining visible parts of his white, porcelain skin was a small portion where his right eye was, his mouth--where his long, thin white beard covered bits of the scar--and the upper left part of his forehead. Jesse had also noticed that only one of Mahlon’s eyes could open properly while the left one was melted shut. Jesse, admittingly, felt terrible that he couldn’t take his attention away from Mahlon’s distortions. It’s disrespectful--well, it’s not like the old man would ever know where he’s staring, but it was disrespectful nonetheless. The only other feature that would occasionally distract Jesse from the face was Mahlon’s long, white hair which flowed like a candle’s fire in the wind.

Jesse’s kind words sparked a rambling from the old man. Mahlon began talking about everyone’s first visit, how their family welcomes anyone with open arms, the variety of celebrations they’ll have throughout the year to look forward to… These were more words to ‘help’ Jesse feel more ‘comfortable’ here, no doubt. As Mahlon spoke, he’d gesture with his hands. The long sleeves of his robe would flow along with his movements. His attire was similar to Brenner’s. Both wore robes that were a deep shade of red. The ends of the sleeves and the bottom of the robe itself were aligned with a golden yellow. Unlike Brenner’s, however, where the bottom of his robe--and the collar around his neck--had a small, triangle slit, Mahlon had none. Instead, he had a hood that was quite difficult to spot due to his thick hair covering it. Another element Mahlon’s robe had that Brenner lacked was a thick, V-shaped golden line around his waist that could be mistaken as a belt. If Jesse really concentrated on the golden parts of the robe he could make out a variety of tiny symbols--mostly being odd shapes and dashes--on them. Their color was only slightly darker than the yellow they were sewn into, making them easy to miss.

In all honesty, the robe was elegant. It was clear so much time and effort was put into making sure this wonderful robe fit this horrible man. Someone so vile doesn’t deserve to wear something so graceful.

“So what is troubling you?” Mahlon asked. “If you’ve been enjoying your time here, then why sit out here all alone?”

“How’d you even know I was out here?” Jesse tilted his head slowly, curious and a little disturbed.

“Cecil, the lad. He told me.”

Cecil. Of course. What else has he been telling the Visions? He’s probably been keeping them updated every time Jesse so much as scratched his head, but now wasn’t the time to get upset. Jesse needed to make an excuse. Any excuse, as long as it was believable.

“I’ve been...” Jesse swallowed, “Thinking about a friend I lost.”

That was meant to be a lie, but it struck Jesse that it’s been nearly a year since Lukas had gone missing. He started to feel queasy.

Mahlon’s smile faded and was replaced by a look of sorrow, “I see.” He said in a whisper.

There was a moment of silence. Jesse hugged his knees, and Mahlon faced forward and stroked his beard.

Mahlon turned to Jesse again and spoke carefully, “I’m terribly sorry about your friend.”

“Don’t be,” Jesse had to force his next words out, “it wasn’t your fault.”

“If I may,” Mahlon said, “I had also lost someone close to me.”

“You did?” The sinking feeling in Jesse’s stomach grew.

“Yes, he was our Sense before you came along.” Mahlon began, “He had been a wonderful friend of mine since I was a boy, and I fondly remember the excitement I felt when I heard the news that he had been selected as my and Brenner’s Sense. We were all overjoyed. Even after our ceremony, where we were expected to remain resilient leaders, it truly felt like nothing had changed between us. We were three friends who worked together and achieved our dreams. Frankly, the whole experience felt like a dream.” He let out a pleasant laugh as he rested his head on his hands. “Antonin and Brenner made the last ten years of being a Vision possibly the greatest years of my life.” There was a sparkle of joy in Mahlon’s eye, “You’d be surprised how short a decade feels when you’re my age. Oh, it all went by so fast.”

Mahlon’s mouth twitched and he let out a sigh, “And perhaps I should have been wiser; spend an extra few minutes talking to him during breakfast, join him when he was training with Brenner, ramble with him in the library for a moment longer. I was so certain time was on my side. I truly thought that nothing bad could have ever happened to him.”

Jesse listened to Mahlon, and how his voice would get lower the longer he went on. It'd crack and shake at certain points of his recollection, and that bit of light in his eye began to fade. A part of Jesse wanted to feel bad, the other wondered just how blind Mahlon was.

Antonin, this ‘wonderful’ man, surely couldn’t have been the same man who was running towards Jesse and his friends the night they were fighting the lava beast. The image of the man’s black hair flying in the air as he was rushing to them, his sword held high, his red cloak torn, and nothing but hatred in his eyes as he screamed bloody murder at them under the smoke-filled sky was fresh in Jesse’s mind. Maybe Mahlon never saw this horrible side of his friend. Maybe he refused to see it.

And then there was that word, “Sense”. Jesse had heard Radar mention the word in the past when referencing The Awakening, he’s also heard that word in passing conversations in the shrine. He remembered Nell telling him all about their ‘community’ one day before a Gathering started, and they soon got on the topic of Cecil. “...He’s also a leader,” Nell had said, “...but he mostly protects the Visions. He’s like their own personal guard.” Jesse could hardly contain his disbelief. He couldn’t believe someone like Cecil was now another leader of the Awakening.

‘What a downgrade.’ Jesse thought to himself. To think the Awakening’s past Sense--a broad madman who was dead set on killing Jesse’s friends when the world was falling apart--had been replaced by some skinny, sickly pale blondie who used to flee from a fight when things became a little overwhelming. Even Cecil’s attire felt less-than compared to the Visions’ and Antonin’s. His red cloak went a bit past his waste and had a golden collar with a small, yellow button keeping the cloak together. There were no fancy symbols on it either--at least none which Jesse could see. It was jarring to see such an uptight, boastful man wear something so… Plain.

“Oh look at me, acting like he’s died long ago.” Mahlon chuckled sadly, “It’s only been a year; minutes for me.”

“You’re a fine boy,” Mahlon fixed his posture and faced Jesse’s direction again, “I’m absolutely certain your friend was just as wonderful a person as you.”

“Thank--” Jesse quickly hid his voice crack with a cough, “Thank you. He was… He was the best.”

“Our bodies may die on this earth,” Mahlon slowly rose, “but our spirits live on in The Hero’s hands.” Mahlon offered his hand to Jesse, “Will you be joining our Gathering today?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Olivia woke up. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She did remember talking with Jess about what happened last night. They were on the bed, both worried about what was happening and about each other. Guess she just… dozed off. She felt well rested at least, that’s always important. What time was it though?

She sat up and ran her hand through her tangled hair before getting out of bed. Olivia dragged her feet across the guest room’s floor to the window and opened the curtains just a sliver. She peaked through the crack, hoping to see the sun and get a vague idea of what hour it was, but instead she was greeted with light gray clouds completely covering the sky. She didn’t see anyone roaming the streets, so hopefully it was still morning. That’s technically evening for Aiden and the others, isn’t it?

She still wasn’t used to this time difference. She didn’t want to get used to it. Her sleep schedule was already weird enough, she could only imagine how horrific it would get if she got adjusted to the hours here. And being active at night… The idea didn’t sound appealing to her at all. She thought back to the times she pulled all-nighters on projects, getting headaches from the bright redstone lamps shining down on her because the Sun had set and needing to leave the comfort of her own home and storm over to the nearest cave to find whatever material she ran out of before mobs would hunt her down. Those nights were the most infuriating, and she shuddered at the thought of living every single day like that. That’d be a life full of inconveniences.

“Hm…” Olivia looked around the guest room. Where was Jess? She would’ve definitely spotted him by now, or he would’ve given her a loud ‘Good Morning!’ from behind that’d always scare the socks off of her back when they used to live in the treehouse together.

The only place she could think of was downstairs. Maybe he’s having breakfast already.

Olivia quietly left her room, making sure to open and close the door carefully so she wouldn’t awaken anyone nearby. As she made her way down the stairs, she heard a faint conversation grow louder.

When she finally reached the end, she peeked over the wall and saw Jess and Aiden sitting together on the couch working on the flint and steel. They still didn’t seem too thrilled with each other, but it was much better than the anger and shouting from last night.

“Morning guys.” Olivia said as she began walking over.

Jess waved at her, “Morning!”

Aiden gave her a stiff “Hey.”, while he continued to focus on the tool.

“Is that the appropriate thing to say?” She asked Aiden, “Can I say ‘Good Morning’? Or do you have a special phrase for this specific time?” She sat down beside Jess, sinking into the couch cushion.

“ ‘Morning’’s uncommon, but it’s fine.” Aiden replied, “Most people usually say ‘Good day’ or somethin’ like that.”

She nodded then leaned closer to the table where the items and notes were placed, “Any progress?” She shifted around, trying to get a bit more comfortable, but felt grainy, sand-like particles stuck to her feet. She glanced at the floor to see redstone powder scattered everywhere. It clinged onto the ends of the couch and got stuck in between the cracks of the wooden boards. That powder was an uncomfortable feeling on the feet and a pain to clean up.

“It was kinda rocky at first, but we’ve figured out the notes with Radar’s help!” Jess started. While he wanted to show Olivia what they’ve accomplished, Aiden was still holding onto the flint and steel with one hand, and reading a page of notes in the other, so he decided to let Aiden be. “We coated the fire striker with redstone powder. It actually stuck to the metal pretty well, but we’re still being careful whenever we place it down. We also figured out we need to make this weird mish-mash of a gold and netherrack base? Mold? Something to fit the flint in--” Jess went on to describe their plans on how they were going to create a mold out of such odd materials when suddenly Aiden interrupted.

“Olivia,” He finally spoke up, “I--I’m sorry about last night.” He gripped the flint and steel so tightly he was afraid it was going to break. “I should’ve controlled myself better--I shouldn’t have told Jesse about you. I shouldn’t have even mentioned you.” He shot up from the couch and was fidgeting with the tool now. He kept running his free hand through his hair, not caring about the red powder getting tangled up with the strands. “I put you and Jess in danger when I just wanted to help. I know--” He swallowed, “I know you’re not from this universe, you’re not really my friends, but I still want to protect you. I wanna help get you outta this mess I started.”

Olivia stopped and stared at him for a moment, surprised by this sudden apology. She slowly clasped her hands together and blinked. “Aiden…” She said quietly, “It’s okay. I forgive you.” She didn’t realize how comforting that apology was. Even if the situation was looming over them, things felt a little better.

“We’ll figure a way out of this together.” Jess added in. “And uh…” He glanced at Olivia then at Aiden, “Yeah, I’m sorry about how I acted yesterday too.”

“No, you two don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Aiden pointed at Jess as he placed the tool on top of the papers.

“But I could’ve handled things better.” Jess mumbled and went silent for a moment. “Aiden, I know you want to protect us, but we’re able to help. We don’t need to be locked in here and supervised like children. We’ve saved the world--multiple worlds--multiple times. We can help! Heck, I’m the mayor of an entire town!” He exclaimed.

“I sometimes forget about that unfortunate fact.” Olivia commented, a little smirk on her face.

Jess turned around with his eyebrows raised high. He actually looks a bit offended by her joke. “And what do you mean by ‘unfortunate’?”

“Like I could forget the time you tried to decorate Beacon Town with lava-falls for Halloween.” She kept that playful but devious expression on. She propped one leg up and rested her arm on her knee, “You nearly burnt down a good third of the buildings.”

“I put it out!” Jess felt his face turn a light shade of pink. “Plus I was following Ivor’s advice! So the Halloween Incident was technically his fault!”

“Oh sure, blame the senior citizen.” Olivia chuckled. Aiden snickered along. Jess turned even more red as he tried to think of a witty comeback, but all he could do was give her a light shove then turn away, folding his arms and pouting like a little kid as he struggled to hold back his own laughter.

“Alright, but seriously.” Aiden was finally relaxed, “I was just worked up when I said that. We can take you two outta the house and wherever you need to be as long as you hide your faces well enough.” He went to the kitchen, “I’m gonna make myself some coffee. You two want any?” He looked back at Jess and Olivia.

“Yes please!” Olivia said.

Jess shook his head, “I’m alright, thanks though.”

Aiden took out a small saucepan and placed it under the sink. He turned the faucet on and kept an eye on the water’s level.

“Actually…” Jess perked up, “Speaking of lava, what did that lava monster you guys fought look like? I’ve been thinking about it ever since you’ve brought it up.”

“Now that you mention it,” Olivia said, patting down her frizzy hair, “I’ve been pretty interested as well.”

“Oh jeez.” Aiden sighed as he turned off the water and brought the pan to the stove. He turned the heat to medium high, the knob making faint clicking sounds with each number he passed. “Man, we could only stare at that thing for a couple of seconds or our eyes would’ve melted off.” As the water slowly began to heat up, Aiden turned to a higher cabinet and swung it open.

“I knew it had a couple of eyes and a bunch of arms.” He pushed aside a few items and stopped when he spotted a small, crinkled, light blue bag.

“How many?” Olivia asked.

“Hero if I know.” Aiden let out a laugh, “More than five. It’d drag itself around with them, one arm would merge into another, and then when that thing brought one of it’s limbs back into the air--” He raised one of his arms over his head attempting to recreate the motion, “--you could see the arm split up into two or three more. And when it’s claws would hit the ground it’d send rocks and magma flying everywhere.” He splayed his fingers out, “I know a good chunk of forests burnt down, and some houses in nearby towns too, unfortunately. The library almost got hit too!” He explained while he opened and closed multiple drawers, trying to look for something.

“And the sound. Sweet Hero, the sound. It’s one of those things I’ll probably never forget. I sometimes hear it in my dreams.” He finally spotted what he was searching for--a tablespoon--and closed the drawer. He opened his bag of coffee, scooped up a hefty spoonful of powder, and added it into the pan, getting a bit of the powder on the kitchen counter. “So it’d start off real low, right? Almost sounds like a rumble, but then it’d open it’s mouth more and more until it’d let out this roar that left us deaf for nearly a minute!” He added a few more tablespoons into the water and began mixing the contents together, “Hadrian told us the sound was enough to shake the buildings, and that it’s body was so bright they thought it was day! He and Mevia used to travel the world a ton and they told us they’ve never seen anything like that creature before.”

“That’s insane.” Olivia’s eyes were wide. “That thing sounds just as dangerous as Ivor’s Witherstorm.”

“Tell me about it.” Jess was thinking about what such a beast would look like. Multiple eyes, a giant mouth, enough strength to shake the earth with each step it took. He could only imagine how horrendous the damage must’ve been, the smoke that filled the air with the fires it caused, the ashes flying everywhere, it was probably hot enough to melt a person’s skin off if they were unfortunate enough to stand too close.

“Now,” Aiden said as he tossed the tablespoon into the sink, “how bout that Witherstorm of yours? What was that like?”

Jess thought it was only fair to share their tale now. He went into detail about how the Witherstorm happened in the first place, how it kept following them and destroying everything in it’s path, how they had to travel across the world to create a weapon strong enough to destroy it, only for that plan to fail and leading to Jess having to kill it from the inside. This soon led to Jess going off about Ivor and The Order of the Stone, the Ender Dragon, and how Jess and his friends discovered the truth about them. Every now and then when Jess would mention the names of people he’s met, he’d ask Aiden if he’s ever interacted with them in this universe. Aiden needed their physical appearance to be described to get a good idea of them, but most of his answers were usually: “Don’t know them.” or a “I think we might’ve met ‘em?”. The only names Aiden seemed familiar with were Isa, Harper, and Otto. There was a big maybe on Gabriel and Soren.

“Hadrian and Mevia might’ve known them, honestly.” Aiden said at one point, “They’ve met a ton of people when they were ramblers.”

As Jess and Olivia kept going back and forth talking about the Admins, White Pumpkin, and everything else they’ve experienced, Aiden would listen along and chime in with similar situations he and his friends went through. His reactions were definitely mixed when he learned about their Cassie Rose and what she’s done. There’d be points where all he could do was laugh over how bizarre the situation sounded, and other instances where he couldn’t react at all because of how… Unstable Jess and Olivia’s Cassie Rose seemed. Aiden eventually came back into the living room with two cups of fresh, hot coffee in his hands. He sat beside Jess and placed one of the cups on the table for Olivia. She gave him a quiet thank you as they both continued to listen to Jess’ stories.

Jess was sharing his experiences out of order, but he was finally telling Aiden about Hadrian and Mevia. How they ran these twisted games and how he thought Lukas and Petra were killed right before his eyes--when suddenly Aiden jerked forward and choked on his coffee.

He hurriedly placed his cup down--spilling a bit of his drink--and broke into a coughing fit. Jess patted his back a couple of times to try and help him.

“You--your friends with Lukas in your universe?” Aiden asked between coughs.

“Yeah,” Jess answered, “I thought we--” He froze. Oh no. They never… Did they never tell Aiden that they knew Lukas in their universe? Or maybe they did--but did they never mention that they were all friends?

“And he’s alive?” Aiden said, his voice a touch raspy from the strain.

“Yes--absolutely! He’s still in one piece! We met cause of the Witherstorm and got real close throughout all those adventures.” Jess was speaking so fast, “Argh, I’m sorry, I thought I told you this.” How could he forget to tell Aiden something as major as this? Especially after Aiden had told him all about the struggles he and his friends went through after their Lukas went missing.

“No, don’t be. I probably--” Aiden stopped to cough again, “I probably forgot. I sorta remember you mentioning I kinda sucked in your universe.” He grinned. There was a sad look in his eyes. “But are Lukas and I… Are we friends there?”

Jess didn’t answer for a second. In that second he thought back to Sky City; the hatred and disgust in Lukas’ eyes whenever he had to face or even acknowledge Aiden. He thought about the many letters their Aiden had sent over that Lukas threw away. He remembered Lukas’ curious expression contorting to pure anger when Jess had mentioned Aiden wanting redemption. He doesn’t--

“Oh, absolutely!” Olivia lied. “Sure you guys hit a couple of rough patches here and there, especially after the whole Sky City incident, but you two made up!”

Jess went along, “You two live pretty far away from each other, but I know you and Lukas like to hang out at this one restaurant at least once a month to catch up.”

“The Shulker Spices?” Olivia made up the restaurant’s name on the spot.  

Jess snapped his finger, “Yeah, that one! Great stuff.”

“That’s good to hear… That’s probably the best thing I’ve heard in a while.” The soft smile on Aiden’s face faltered for a moment. Sure, he looked relieved, but Jess felt terrible. He hated flat out lying like this, but there was no way he was going to crush Aiden with the truth, and it’s not like he’ll ever know. They did the right thing. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.

Aiden’s body loosened and he let out a long sigh. “It’s been rough ever since he went missing.” He admitted, “Jess, you got a lotta good things back in your universe. Your friends are all still there, you’ve been able to take down any problems comin’ at you… I bet the people there must love ya.”

“But… Your friends love you too, don’t they?” Jess asked, gently placing his hand on Aiden’s back.

“Yeah--I didn’t mean to--of course they do!” Aiden quickly lifted his head back up, “And… You know…” His face got a little red, “I love ‘em too.”

Aiden went to grab his coffee to have another sip, “But you two need to get back to your universe. Once Rose comes back we can finish that flint and steel and get you two home.”

“Cassie’s still gone?” Olivia sounded concerned.

“She’ll be alright.” Aiden said, gesturing with his mug. “I know she can handle herself in extreme places like the Nether, but if she doesn’t come back by the end of tomorrow, we’ll have to hunt her down.”

The three sat on the couch, motionless for a minute, and couldn’t really think of anything else to talk about, so Jess and Olivia decided to finally make themselves breakfast. Jess helped himself to a couple of eggs; preparing a pan to scramble them in while Olivia mostly searched throughout the kitchen for ideas. She didn’t know what she was craving, she just knew she was hungry. As she scanned the contents of the pantry, something struck her.

“Sort of on the topic of questions, or--well, things about other universes…” She fumbled with her words as she reached inside to grab a small container of oatmeal, “I was wondering if there’d be anyway to, uh, see my place of death--my grave. If--if I have one.” She immediately held her breath after asking that question. She knew this was undoubtedly a personal thing to ask, but she’s been wanting to know for some time. She didn’t know when to ask before, and--and this felt like her only chance. She glanced at Aiden to see if he had heard her. He was staring right back at her, frozen in place with his coffee inches away from his face. His mouth was stuck open like he was in disbelief over what Olivia had just asked. Olivia even caught a glimpse of Jess being just as off guard by her question.

“I--We don’t--” Olivia stammered. She quickly turned away from the boys and tried to hide her face behind the pantry door, “We don’t have to! I understand if you don’t want to!” She said, “It might be dangerous to go outside anyways, I don’t mind if you describe it instead--”

“Is that what you wanna do?” Aiden asked, the energy of his voice absent compared to what it sounded like minutes ago. He set his cup aside and headed to the kitchen. To Olivia.

“Only if you think it’s safe.” Olivia’s voice was shaky. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. She shouldn’t have asked.

“If we go together,” Jess spoke up, “and hide ourselves, we should be alright.” He wanted to try and be supportive, but even he wasn’t too sure about this.

“Right.” Aiden said, focusing on Olivia. He folded his arms, “We’d have to do it soon. Today might be your only chance. If that’s where you want to go, I’ll take you there.”

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

Always great to see a new react blog, good luck!👍🏽 How about some basic fluff, yes? What do the guys(+Codsworth, Preston, Maxson) think of starting a family with f!Sole when presented with the idea of fatherhood?

some of these reacts are lengthy and some are short (basing it off on their characters) but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. ❤️

-

Danse:

danse would be unsure at first. not over the fact that it’s with sole, actually, he was more than sure he wanted to do it with nobody else but her. he wasn’t confident enough to raise a child, thinking he was too boring or awkward for one. in all reality, danse felt as if he was unprepared for the responsibility of bringing a living, human being into the commonwealth. for a while, he’d push away the idea of having a child and try his best to stray away from it. though, when he starts going on more missions and adventures, he gives a little more attention to baby items that are scattered across the commonwealth (going as far as collecting them for some unknown reason to him) and thoughts of him and soles nonexistent baby start to appear in his head. how would they look like? would the baby look more like him or sole? he would feel himself slowly wanting a child and the notion of him raising one would bring a smile to his face. upon realizing his thoughts, danse would approach sole and admit shyly that he is open to the idea of having a kid. he was more than sure he wanted this when sole smiled brightly.

Deacon:

his feelings towards it would fluctuate. he would be ecstatic to raise a child but would also be facing the fear of possibly losing them. he would possibly avoid the topic by laughing it off or telling a joke, hoping sole would get the idea. of course, she did and decided to let it slip, not wanting to force him into something he was uncomfortable with. it would take him a while to realize that, and it would be in the most direct way possible. he’d be on a mission collecting intel on a man who had been venting to some bystander in vadims bar, mentioning that he had lost his wife just recently. it made deacon feel sympathetic for him, but the next part he had said shook him to his core. “i lost her before we could start a family.” him and barbara tried to start a family before she got killed, and now that he was given another chance, he was so hesitant and afraid. Yet, this was all deacon wanted in the first place, to spend his life with her and start a family. without a second thought, he dropped the newspaper he was holding and dashed back to HQ. he caught sole standing in the middle of the church, concentrated on the screen of her pip-boy. “sole!” deacon ran and scooped her into his arms, twirling her around in circles. he slowly put her down as sole let her hand rest on his cheek, small giggles escaping her lips, “what has gotten into you today?” shooting her the biggest grin he can form, he blurted out the next sentence excitedly, “how do you think des would react if i said we were adding a new addition to our already crazy family?”

Hancock:

he would be open to the idea, but would need more time to think upon seriously committing to it. it wasn’t that he was afraid to have one or was hesitant to start a family with sole, he was just really insecure of himself. hancock knew he wasn’t the cleanest person in terms of drugs and crime. also, he was a ghoul, so he was a little afraid the baby might be affected by that. once he starts heading out on missions, he notices how sweet sole becomes around children and how she looked so natural doing it. and just seeing children play around with her, laughing and pushing each other around playfully really softened his heart. the thought of him, sole and his kid messing around with each other kind of sparked a new feeling within hancock. maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad after all. besides, what’s the worse that could happen? after a little while, he pushes away the negative thoughts and does completely open up to the idea, offering to clean up his act a little bit more so he’s more focused on the journey of having a baby with sole. he definitely wouldn’t want to miss a moment of it.

Maccready:

probably the most open to having a child, considering that he is a father himself. he loved raising duncan and seeing his milestones, so he’d be more than happy to have another kid with the love of his life. the only real issue he’d have with having a new addition is the fear of them contracting a disease, like duncan, or them getting injured, but despite it all, he’s more than willing to do it. once sole brought up the topic of having a child, he’d be overly excited and teary eyed, realizing that this was a huge step in their relationship. “really?!” he’d be bouncing excitedly on his feet as sole nodded, a smile radiating off of her face. maccready would hug her tightly, already excited to tell duncan he was having a sibling. sole would notice that maccready would already be coming up with multiple names even before she got pregnant with their baby, (she didn’t mind it all). though maccready claimed that he didn’t care about the gender of the baby, he’d secretly want a baby girl to raise with the rest of his family.

Nick:

he’d be surprised that sole even bothered to ask him to start a family. “well, who would’ve thought you’d ask someone like me?”, he joked, a small chuckle escaping his mouth. nick is more than likely open to the idea of having a child. he believes he’s mature and responsible enough to raise one properly and take care of their needs and wants. whether they choose to adopt or find another way to get sole pregnant, he’d be more than happy to have experienced another big milestone that he’d never thought he’d see in his life. man, when nick thought sole couldn’t give him anything more, she always ends up surprising him. though he may have to juggle his work and family life, he’d be more than willing to choose his family above everything. he would go out of his way to protect sole and his child.

Synth!Codsworth:

excited! excited! excited!!! he’d be squealing with utter joy as sole dropped the question of fatherhood. codsworth was completely crushed when he realized that he never got the opportunity to raise shaun and care for him, so the news nearly blew the fuse in him. “this is superb, mum/sole!”, he’d hug her tightly as tears welled in his eyes, “you have given me so much more than i have ever wished for!” he’d be the second most prepared, already having data on how to cook, care for a baby and all that other fancy prewar stuff that people nowadays barely knew. oh man, the minute codsworth got the news, he began tidying up a room for the baby and decorating it with bright colors and baby items he found on missions with sole. he’d baby proof everything, and i mean everything, in sanctuary just to ensure that their child was safe from any danger. everyone could literally feel the excitement emitting off of codsworth..

Preston:

preston is always excited when he hears about a new extension to the minutemen but when sole brings up the topic of fatherhood, he is far beyond thrilled. he had never really thought about it but the idea of being a father and raising his own child softened him up inside. he would be happy, realizing that now the commonwealth was a much safer place thanks to sole. he was more than ready to settle down and take it step by step. “that sounds great, general!” he beamed, placing his hands on her waist. he bent down and gave her a soft kiss, wanting to treasure this moment forever. sole doesn’t know how or when, but on a particular night, he brought home a hat identical to his, but a lot smaller. “what do you think?” he would say with a childlike grin. sole would let out a laugh as she placed the hat near the homemade crib preston had made, “its perfect.” he would spread the news to the minutemen proudly and would go out of his way to protect sole and his child from harms way.

Maxson:

as sole brought up the topic of fatherhood, it did pique maxsons interest at first. but then he would realize that he’s too busy to have a child and right now out of all times wouldn’t be the best, especially with the brotherhood in his hands. he would just believe that he has too much responsibility to even focus on raising a child, and would be upfront with sole to avoid getting her hopes up. he would also think he’s too young to even attempt to create a new life. though he had denied sole at that moment, the thought of starting a family never really left his head. somehow and somewhere in the future, maxson would be open to it once things settled down a bit more.

[ shoutout to anon for correcting my mistake about john hancock! ]

[orionsangel86]

Hey Everyone,

As you have probably noticed, I have neglected this blog for a long time now. I haven’t been on any fandom related social media at all actually. But I figured since I am currently in a good mindset, I want to write a post just outlining some things which basically boils down to a goodbye letter to Supernatural fandom.

Long rambling post below the cut...

This year (and the last) has just taken it out of me in terms of general negativity online both in fandom and in the real world. At first I got tired of fandom (mostly because Twitter is a cesspool of policing and bullying) and then I got tired of everything else (the world sucks right now, and my mental health basically stopped me from being able to participate in any form of online activism – just because I’m not blogging about something, doesn’t mean I don’t support the cause ya know?). Earlier this year, right around the time of the UK lockdowns, I had surgery and a recovery period in which I spent a lot of time with family, and just reacquainted myself with the real world. I think perhaps the coronavirus pandemic made me realise that long before lockdown began I had already been isolating myself from my real life and diving further and further into an online black hole.

It was years in the making. Supernatural fandom preoccupied my thoughts for such a long period of time it got to the point where every moment of my non working time seemed to be spent either online scrolling my tumblr dash or twitter feed, or reading fanfic or doing something fandom related. I invested so much of myself into this show and fandom that I think I forgot who I was before I was a Supernatural fan completely.

After my wake up call in late 2019, which lead me to break free from an extremely nasty clique, I have tried to re-enter fandom on my own terms, as well as attempt to enjoy the source material and the fandom creations to ignite some new spark of love and interest in the show. Yet as much as I have tried, I have failed to do so.

I was thinking recently about someone I used to follow years ago before I ever created a blog. When I was still just lurking in the tumblr shadows and followed the likes of Mittens, Lizbob, and other meta writers of the period, there was a blogger whose name I can’t remember but she was the funniest blogger I had come across. But when the show killed off Charlie Bradbury, she quit. I had never even interacted with her, as I was barely getting my blog started at the time, but I’ll never forget a post she wrote about her feelings on the show. She had recently started watching something else (I think it was Sense8 but can’t recall entirely), and that this new show had given her everything she had never thought she could have from her fave before. She wrote about how her relationship with Supernatural had become abusive. That for years the writers of Supernatural continued to throw punches at fans like her – women, LGBTQ+ people, people of colour, and yet she continued to give it all her time and attention, brushing off the punches because she was so damn devoted to the characters. Then this new show had come along, and it was like she had seen the light. The killing of Charlie Bradbury was the last straw, and she dumped Supernatural’s ass and fled into the arms of her new love.

I hope she is doing fantastically today.

What she wrote has resonated with me for years. I was a fairly new Supernatural fan at the time, and therefore didn’t really understand what she meant. A TV show can’t be abusive. Can it?

Of course, we are speaking in metaphor here, and in no way are these metaphors meant to reduce or limit the truly serious situation of actual abusive relationships, but every now and then, when a new episode of Supernatural has left me feeling upset, disappointed, frustrated and grossly let down, in some cases affecting my mood for days at a time, and therefore my mental health. I have thought back to those words she wrote and quietly agreed with them in my head. Yes. This is a metaphorically abusive relationship.

When I discovered earlier this year that Castiel was most likely going to be killed off in some sort of bullshit self sacrifice before the end of the show, I was extremely distressed. When I found out that my favourite person of all time Misha Collins, supported this ending for Castiel, and may have even been the one who pushed for it, I was more than distressed, I felt betrayed by the person I cared about most. I’ll admit to you all now that in my weakest moments I have fantasized about standing in front of Misha and screaming at him exactly just what kind of affect his “ideal ending” for Castiel will have on his fanbase, on their mental health, and potentially their own safety. This fantasy has me guilt tripping him and doing everything in my power to make him feel utterly shit about the decision. I know what you are thinking – don’t blame Misha, the guy has his own problems and we all know he projects his own self esteem issues onto Cas – and yes, I know this, like I said its only a fantasy to get me through my darkest moments. I don’t hate Misha at all. But perhaps I do love him a little less nowadays than I did back at the height of my fandom life. That’s at least still a little bit more than my feelings for Jensen and Jared which now I can only describe as complete indifference.

I am admitting all of this now knowing full well it will ignite shock and anger among the more die hard fans of J2M, to explain why I need to just leave this fandom completely, or more accurately, why I have already left fandom.

Over the past 10 months of 2020, I have watched a lot of TV (there isn’t much else to do during a lockdown when you are on crutches with your foot in a cast!) and the one thought that occurred to me over and over again was “this show is so much better than Supernatural”.

I kept comparing everything I watched, from the quality of the scripts, the actors, the special effects, to the inclusiveness of the shows. Just so many beautiful and interesting stories that seem to understand their audience, and understand how to entertain and impress without resorting to cringe humour, outdated jokes, and prejudice, not to mention misogyny and queerbaiting – yup, I said it.

The thing is, I think these thoughts have been creeping over me slowly for longer than just this year, but I have been desperately batting them away the way Dean Winchester bats away his own gay thoughts. Unlike Dean though, eventually I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I cannot continue to carve out space in my own soul for this show, which incessantly beats me down regardless of my devotion. The creators, the network, the writers, and sometimes even the cast, have all shown that they don’t care about me as a fan. I’m not some gun toting dudebro living in middle America, so why should they give a damn about me? I’m clearly not their target audience, nor have I ever been.

I know many of you will vehemently deny my personal opinion of Supernatural now. That is absolutely fine. I am sorry to be admitting it, but I had to. I feel like once I finally write out these words, I have got it off my chest and can close and lock the door on Supernatural for good.

Without Supernatural, I am able to focus on my real life, I am able to find pleasure in other things, new things, interesting things, that bring me joy and joy alone – not disappointment and frustration. I found a new job this year, which has been a huge accomplishment as I was stagnating in my old one, and several new hobbies under my belt. I moved to a new flat, I have a lovely flatmate who has been a godsend throughout lockdown, and I have rekindled friendships that I was neglecting due to my Supernatural obsession.

All in all, I am finding post-Supernatural life far more rewarding and content than my life in fandom. It has taken me a while, but I am over the show. And whilst I will always hold a special place in my heart for Castiel, it will be as I know him in my own mind; as the wonderful, strong, powerful and determined angel with a soul, who loves so strongly, and who is worth so much more than his own creators give him credit for. He is up there with Aziraphale and Crowley, with The Doctor, and Buffy, as one of the greatest characters of all time.  

So the Supernatural writers and creators can take whatever ending they have decided upon, and shove it up their asses. I am sorry to say that Sam and Dean Winchester are also lost to me. Any love I had for them was destroyed by their later season depictions. Castiel alone is the only character worthy of that space in my heart now. If in time he longs for a companion, I will find one for him, but it won’t be the Dean Winchester of the canon show. Canon Dean hasn’t been deserving of Cas for a long time now.

Perhaps I am still a little bitter about the ending. Perhaps the finale won’t be the disaster I expect it to be, perhaps Dabb will somehow turn it all around last minute following whatever travesty Bucklemming have given us in 15x19. Either way, I won’t be watching.

So this is me saying goodbye to this blog, at least until I have decided what else to do with it. It certainly won’t be a Supernatural fandom blog anymore. It wasn’t all wasted though. I did get a wonderful friendship group out of this fandom, and I have certainly expanded my knowledge of film and television analysis, as well as having enjoyed a great many memes.

I guess in the end, my internal war with my inner bitter Cas girl finished with her winning, and writing this post. Once it is posted however, I will put her to sleep with thoughts of a happy Castiel, who has swapped his wings for a beating human heart, and is living on a beach somewhere beautiful, refurbishing an old Victorian house, and greeting his kindly elderly neighbours. There’s a gay bar on the main strip, and the bartender is quite a dish. Green eyes and light brown hair with a killer smile. Castiel thinks he looks familiar, like a memory from a past life, but they’ve definitely never met, because this man is kind.

Now that she is asleep, there is nothing left for me here. Goodbye everyone. Whether you manage to enjoy the finale or not, I truly hope you too, find your peace.

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 6

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Today was ~dramatic~ -- I woke up to learn that someone was posting this fic on AO3 and passing it off as their own. It was a BUMMER, to say the least, and it really threw me off. I haven’t posted fic in a decade, and I was really using this as a fun way to remember how much I loved writing (since doing it professionally can seriously zap the fun out of it). And hearing that someone stole my work made me incredibly upset and feel generally violated. I know it’s just fic, but... I work hard to write it and don’t think it’s too much to ask to receive the credit for it? I hope this chapter doesn’t reflect that because I was really excited for this one! Anyway. TL;DR, I ended up creating an AO3 page, so no one can post FOR me moving forward. I’ve updated my Masterlist page accordingly. And please don’t plagiarize, guys, it’s not cool. Okay. Enough of that negativity. Let’s get back to the important things. Like Rowan.

Rain pelts against Rowan’s window, casting a dark, ominous hue over his bedroom. His first real day off from work, and it’s storming outside, naturally. He’d planned to take it easy and go to the beach, maybe go for a long run. But it looks like that’s not happening now. He knows he’s being punished. This is the universe’s way of intervening and letting him know how shitty he is. Rowan can’t shake the image of Aelin’s hurt face. It is seared into his brain. And there’s only one way to get it out.

Rowan lounges back into his pillows and opens his laptop before typing in Aelin Ashryver into his internet browser. Her Facebook profile pops up immediately, but it’s set to Friends Only, and Rowan definitely isn’t brave enough to add her as a friend. Her Instagram appears next, and Rowan nearly jumps for joy that it’s a public profile.

The first picture is of the back of her head, her blonde hair piled high on top of her head in a messy bun, with tendrils curling around the nape of her neck, overlooking her balcony and the view of the ocean beyond. She’s back, bitches the caption reads, and Rowan can’t help but chuckle. Next is Aelin with her entire family at the head of Ashryver Playland in a picturesque pose with the caption Favorite place with my favorite people (minus @dorhav118 who gets in TOMORROW!!!!). The corners of Rowan’s lips curl downward as his curiosity gets the better of him, and he clicks on Dorian’s profile.

Rowan rolls his eyes at Dorian’s bio: “Hot as a pistol, but cool inside.”

His heart tugs at seeing the first picture. It’s from the pool party the other day, when Aelin was still in her white dress. She’s laughing at something Dorian said, her eyes closed tightly, glass of champagne in her hand, while Dorian smizes into the camera. Reunited and it feels so good <3

“Who kicked your puppy?” Manon asks from the doorway, and Rowan slams his laptop shut.

“No one.”

A wicked grin appears on her face as she stalks into Rowan’s room and slides onto the bed next to him. “I have a pretty good idea.”

Rowan sighs as Manon reaches over and opens the laptop back up, her long nails clacking against the keyboard. “Just as I thought.” She looks Rowan over, from the bags under his eyes to his hair, messy from constantly running his hands through it. “We’re going out.”

Rowan looks out the window at the torrential downpour and gray skies. “Out? In that? Where?”

“I don’t know,” Manon admits, “But I’m not letting you mope and stalk Aelin all day. It’s pathetic, and below you, to be frank. There’s got to be something we can do in this godforsaken town when it rains.”

It turns out there’s not that many options for what to do when it rains in the small beach town. Mostly everything is outdoors or beach oriented. But Manon decides that the aquarium is a good indoor activity, and it happens to be next to a brewery – for when they get bored. The pair Uber there, not wanting to deal with the hassle of worrying about sobering up. If Rowan’s not allowed to mope and be pathetic at home, he’s going to do today right. And do it drunk.

Despite it being one of the few indoor activities available, the aquarium is fairly deserted when Manon and Rowan arrive. It’s dark and damp and cool and strangely soothing, and Rowan lets Manon lead the way. She heads immediately for the reptile room, thrilled to see the alligators and lizards and snakes. Somehow Rowan isn’t surprised by this development.

They branch off into a small Amazon Rainforest room, filled with frogs and fish and even more snakes on low hanging branches, and Rowan nearly jumps out of skin when a large bird caws in his direction.

“I fucking hate birds,” he grumbles as Manon cackles in delight. “Can’t we see… cuter animals? Like, turtles and seals or some shit?”

Manon rolls her eyes and leads him straight to the shark tank. It’s open, so they can lean over it and look at the giant creatures. Rowan grits his teeth, only slightly terrified at the image of the fin cutting through the surface of the water.

“You know what you’re feeling is totally false,” Manon comments casually.

“Huh?” Rowan says, trying to maintain his calm façade.

“Sharks aren’t predators of humans. That’s the Jaws effect in action. It completely changed our perception of sharks and actually sparked a hunting frenzy that has put sharks in danger, even though they were just an important part of the ecosystem. Fuck you, Spielberg.” 

Manon purses her darkly painted lips and twirls her white blonde hair, leaning over the tank further. Rowan shakes his head at his roommate, who looks like she wants to reach into the water and pet the fucking things. He’s never seen her so affected before. 

“Why are you like this?” he asks, and she laughs.

“You’re not thinking about her anymore, though, are you?”

Rowan flicks her off. “I wasn’t.”

“A few more rooms will get you right back to that terrified place and not thinking about her at all. Don’t you worry.” She winks and leads him into an incredibly dark room, which is only lit up with glowing jellyfish. Manon is right, and within a few minutes, Rowan is feeling calm again. He lets the dark and schools of weird underwater creatures soothe him, and after they finish at the aquarium, Rowan is grateful he let Manon drag him out of the house.

“Beer?” she asks, and Rowan nods readily.

“I think I earned it.”

“Shut up, you fucking loved it. Think we should get a fish tank?” she asks, and Rowan shakes his head immediately. Manon is strange enough without tending to creatures from the deep in their apartment.

They brave the rain, realizing they both forgot umbrellas, and make a mad dash down the street. Rain soaks Rowan’s shirt, but he feels light. They duck into the brewery, and Rowan shakes out his hair, spraying water all over Manon, like a wet dog. He’s never seen her look so horrified.

“You’re lucky I set my makeup, so it’s immoveable every day,” she says with narrowed eyes. “First round’s on you, asshole.”

Rowan orders them two beers fairly quickly, despite the brewery being packed with patrons (he guesses this is where everyone goes when it rains). But when he turns around to hand Manon her drink, he’s surprised to see her mid-conversation with the very last person he wants to see.

“Rowan!” Dorian calls him over with a wide smile, and Rowan grimaces as he joins them. “I was just introducing myself to your stunning roommate,” Dorian says, and Manon rolls her eyes. But Rowan knows she’s beaming internally with the praise. Manon knows she’s beautiful and doesn’t let anyone forget it, despite her lack of interest in men.

“Uh, hey, Dorian, right?” Rowan says, pretending like he wasn’t just browsing the man’s Instagram profile merely hours ago.

Dorian laughs heartily. “Rowan, come on. We’re friends. Any friend of Aelin’s is a friend of mine.” He grins again, and Rowan can’t help but stare at his incredibly white teeth. He wonders if he whitens them. He must, because no one’s teeth are that naturally white. Or straight.

“Come sit with us!” Dorian points to their table where Aelin sits with the same two people from last night.

“Sure!” Manon says, the same time Rowan says “NO!” emphatically.

“Come on,” Dorian pleads. “We have a big table, and the place is packed. You’ll be lucky to find standing room otherwise. Please, Aelin would be horrified if I let you leave without saying hi.”

Rowan’s stomach churns, but he feels trapped. He can’t say no. “Lead the way,” he says, and Dorian smiles another blinding smile.

“Great.”

He leads them to their table, and to say that Aelin looks shocked to see Rowan approach would be an understatement.

“Look who I found!” Dorian exclaims, gesturing to Rowan and Manon, who stand next to the table awkwardly. “Chaol, Nesryn – these are two of Aelin’s friends, Rowan and Manon.”

The brunette dude, Chaol, gives Rowan a tight smile and short head nod, but the woman, Nesryn, stands and shakes both their hands politely.

Rowan and Manon slide into the two empty seats, and of course Rowan is directly across from Aelin. She looks at him curiously as he takes a large sip of his beer.

“So, how do you know Aelin?” Chaol asks, breaking the awkward silence.

“Rowan works at the park,” Dorian explains. “And Chaol is Aelin’s ex-boyfriend and my other best friend,” Dorian chuckles.

“It’s not as awkward as it sounds,” Chaol says with a laugh.

Aelin squints her eyes and looks at Chaol. “Mmm… it kind of is.”

Manon snorts. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?” she says, leaning toward Aelin, and Aelin flips her golden hair over her shoulder and shrugs.

“Two handfuls, thank you very much,” she says and feels herself up, showing how her chest spills over her hand, too much for one to grasp fully.

“Aelin!” Chaol chides, and Rowan can feel heat creep up the back of his neck as he stares at Aelin’s ample cleavage as she lifts it up.

Dorian cackles, his laugh piercing through the room as he tips his head back. He reminds Rowan of Manon when he does it, so amused with others’ discomfort.

Rowan glances back at Aelin’s chest, and when he looks up, she’s staring back at him, one brow raised in question. He immediately finishes the rest of his beer, downing it in one gulp.

“I need more beer. Anyone else?” Rowan asks, and to his surprise, Chaol stands and offers to come with him.

The pair stand side by side at the bar, waiting for their drinks, and Rowan is unsure of what to say to his current crush’s former paramour.

“So…” Chaol begins, and Rowan cocks an eyebrow at him as he leans against the bar. “You were at The Mason Jar last night,” Chaol says, naming the dive bar where he’d met up with the guys the night prior. “Aelin booked it to the bar when she saw you,” Chaol continues. “You guys, like, a thing?” he asks, curiosity seeping through his anything but innocent question.

“What?” Rowan says, bowled over. “No. Uh. Not at all.” Rowan is more than flustered. “I thought she and Dorian were…”

And at that Chaol tips his head back and guffaws. A deep, full-body belly laugh, erupts from his mouth. “Dorian?” he gapes, his brown eyes wide with disbelief. “And Aelin?” He shakes his head. “No. No no no. Never.” Chaol pauses. “They kissed once when they were thirteen, but other than that. No. Dorian is her person. Which is why it could never work between us, even though we tried for five fucking years,” he sighs and scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. “But, no. They’re definitely not.” Chaol looks at Rowan, and Rowan feels like he’s seeing through him completely. Chaol smiles softly. “You really thought? Hmmm.”

Rowan is stunned. Seriously stunned. He has no idea how to react. Or how to process this new information. Dorian and Aelin are not dating? They’re just… friends? So, Aelin is available? And has been flirting with Rowan for the past week, and Rowan just shot her down? Rowan rubs his forehead with his hand, which he thinks is the only thing stopping him from banging his head against the bar in shame. Rowan is an idiot.

An idiot who needs to apologize to Aelin. Immediately.

“This was, uh… enlightening,” Rowan says as he accepts his drink from the bartender, and Chaol can’t help but laugh again.

“Did you do something stupid?” he asks cheekily.

“So stupid,” Rowan says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, she was kind of in a mood after she came back from talking to you,” Chaol says, and Rowan groans. Chaol holds up his hands in surrender. “Just trying to help!”

Rowan turns to him fully and examines the brunette with his concerned brown eyes and has to ask, “Not to be rude, but why?”

“Because Aelin deserves to be happy,” he says resolutely. “And I kept her from being happy for a really long time because I’m a selfish bastard,”Chaol admits way too freely. “But, how could I not?”

“You still love her,” Rowan says, and Chaol shrugs.

“I think once you love Aelin you always love her. For better or worse.”

Rowan motions to the table. “I’m gonna…”

Chaol smirks. “Yeah, get to it.”

But back at the table, Aelin and Dorian are nowhere to be found. Manon sighs, obvious to Rowan’s distress.

“She went to sign up for karaoke.”

“Oh no…” Rowan groans.

“Oh, yes,” Aelin says, bounding back to the table, exuberant.

“Don’t worry. I signed you up, too, Rowan,” Dorian says with a grin.

Aelin frowns, her eyes filled with apology. “I told him not to.”

Dorian rolls his eyes. “And I told her that if Rowan wants to hang with us this summer, he’s gotta get initiated.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan says, smiling in what he hopes is a nice and not creepy way to Aelin. She looks momentarily confused, but she doesn’t have time to think about it because she’s called up to do her song with Dorian almost immediately.

The pair sing “Shallow” flawlessly. And now that Rowan knows they aren’t dating, he can see their friendship all too clearly. Aelin and Dorian love each other fiercely; their passion rages through everything they do, but it lacks a spark. It’s platonic, Rowan finally realizes. He’s been such a fucking fool.

Rowan’s name gets called next, and his stomach is is knots, wondering what song they’ve chosen for him. When he gets to the front, though, he nearly laughs. They’ve chosen a song he could sing with his eyes completely closed.

Shorty get down, good lord… baby’s got ‘em up all over town…

Strictly biz she don’t play around, cover much ground, got game by the pound

Getting paid is her forte

Each and every day, true player way

I can’t get her out of my mind

Think about the girl all the time…

He knows the song is comeuppance for calling Aelin friendly last night, but he crushes it nonetheless, singing his heart out, performing for the masses. When Rowan finishes, the crowds go wild, applauding like crazy.

He sees Aelin bolt from the table before he can get back off the stage, and decides to follow her. She heads down the long hall back to the bathrooms, and his long stride helps him catch up quickly.

“Aelin!” he shouts, and he’s grateful that she pauses, but her arms are crossed over her chest, a clear defensive stance that tells him to keep his distance.

“What?” she snips, obviously pissed. They haven’t actually interacted with each other since last night, and Rowan knows she has every right to be angry with him. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me? What are you even doing here, Rowan?”

“I’m an idiot,” he blurts out, and he can see Aelin’s face morph from pissed to amused. She bites her lip to hold back her smile.

“I mean, I know that, but why do you think that?” she says, her blue gold eyes glowing with challenge. He takes a step closer to her, and she backs up until she can’t back up anymore, pressed against the side of the hall. He pauses his approach, not wanting to make her feel cornered. If she wants space between them, he’ll let her have space.

“I was so out of line last night,” Rowan apologizes. “You were right. You were just trying to be friendly. I was being a dick. I thought…” Rowan pauses. He doesn’t want to be this tongue tied, but she flusters him, and he can’t get anything out how he wants to. “It’s not harassment when I want to be touched. By you.”

Aelin’s eyes narrow. She looks suspicious as she examines him. 

“I knew I was good at karaoke, but damn, I didn’t anticipate this kind of turnaround…” Aelin smirks and takes a breath, and Rowan risks taking another step forward. She holds up a hand and presses it against Rowan’s chest. He didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to her. Warmth from her palm seeps through his shirt, and he breathes heavily. She looks up into his eyes with curiosity.

“Seriously, what changed your mind?” she asks.

“If I say Chaol’s name right now it’s just going to make things weird,” Rowan says, dipping his head slightly, and he can’t help but notice her tilt her head up to him. He zeroes in on her lips, leaning down to get even closer.

“You’re right,” she says with a soft laugh. “You were still a jerk.” Her eyes flick to his lips, and Rowan darts his tongue out to wet them. 

“I know,” he breathes softly. “And I mentioned I was an idiot, right?”

Aelin nods and leans in to close the gap between them, the charge, the magnetism between them now palpable, strumming through Rowan’s body, pulling him downward. 

“Hey guysss,” Dorian drawls as he walks past them quickly, and Rowan straightens up suddenly. Aelin darts under his arm, freeing herself from being backed into the wall. He sees her take a large breath. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” Dorian looks between them, and then grabs his stomach. “I have to pee so bad. Don’t mind me!” He continues down the hall. “As you were!”

Rowan goes to finish his apology, but the moment is gone, and so is Aelin. He needs a moment to compose himself, and when he makes it back to the table, she’s already deep in conversation with Manon and Chaol and Nesryn about the latest karaoke performance. Apparently in his absence someone murdered “Bohemian Rhapsody” and not in a good way. But Aelin acknowledges Rowan’s presence with a flash of a smile, despite not breaking her conversation.

Manon side eyes Rowan suspiciously, and Rowan brushes her off. He’s not ready to talk about whatever just did or did not happen in that hallway.

Their chatter is aimless but pleasant as afternoon bleeds into evening, and eventually they all decide to disperse and head home. Rowan never gets a chance to speak to Aelin alone again, but when he and Manon are in their Uber heading home, his phone flashes with a Friend Request from Aelin Ashryver.

“Hmm,” Manon hums pointedly as Rowan bites back a smile. He spends the rest of the night in bed, scrolling through Aelin’s social media. As he’d originally planned to do with his day. Only now, he doesn’t feel as mopey or pathetic. He lets the rain, still relentless, lull him to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

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[izukillme-moved]

Double Dates

For the FTLGBTales 300 Followers raffle, first prize winner @fading-away-today! I’m so sorry it took so long :( I hope you enjoy it! 

Word Count: 3943

Pairing: Fraxus, Gratsu

“Why are we even here?” Laxus grumbled quietly to Freed, who elbowed him painfully in the gut. The Lightning Dragon Slayer screeched loudly, jumping about a mile high. “Ouch! That hurt!”

“It was supposed to,” replied Freed, cool as a cucumber, and continued his conversation with Natsu about why scarves were such an essential part of fashion.

Laxus raised his gaze from his plate to look at Gray, who seemed as interested in Freed and Natsu’s discussion as he would be in a cement brick. Which is to say, not at all.

I feel you, man, Gray mouthed at him when he caught him staring. Laxus nodded slightly, not wanting Freed to notice.

What are we even doing here? he mouthed back discreetly.

Gray lifted his shoulders a fraction of an inch. No idea.

“Cut it out, you two!” Freed shouted threateningly, slamming his hands down on the table. Laxus shivered a little, blood draining from his cheeks (and rushing promptly to another place which he prefers not be mentioned here, thank you very much).

Gray, however, wasn’t prudent enough to keep his mouth shut. “Yes, Mom,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

Freed leaned down so his face was level with the Ice Wizard’s. “Care to repeat that?” he asked dangerously.

Gray gulped and paled. “N – no, sir,” he said with a salute.

Freed grinned like a shark. “It must have just been the wind.”

“Y – yes sir,” Gray stuttered.

Freed finally sat down and continued to sip at his no-sugar latte, whereas Gray just stared into his black coffee, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

That boyfriend of yours is something else, he mouthed at Laxus.

Laxus smiled a little. He really is.

Freed turned a death glare on both of them.

Cut to about an hour later and even the discussion between Freed and Natsu, which had seemed like it was never going to end, had finally fizzled out. All of them sat staring at their respective beverages, which had gone cold a long time ago (except for Natsu, who was staring into an empty cup because he’d swallowed down his mocha nearly the minute it arrived).

“So,” Laxus started lamely, attempting to spark some kind of conversation and break the uncomfortable silence. Gray and Freed were both history geeks, and Igneel had taught Natsu a lot of dragon history – maybe he could bring up some random war to start a debate.

“The Battle of Fairy Tail was a brutal war, wasn’t it?” he blurted, and they all stared at him in complete disbelief.

Laxus wanted to hide. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him, just like it had the Queen Sita in the legends Makarov used to tell him.

Why, oh why did he have to say ‘Fairy Tail’? WHY?!

Then Natsu burst into laughter, and Gray followed suit.

“Laxus-” wheezed the Fire Dragon Slayer, “You caused that war, and you’re asking if it was brutal?”

Laxus felt a little stung. They still blamed him for it – well, it was natural, seeing as he’d pretty much wrecked Magnolia – but it hurt a little. His brows creased slightly.

“It wasn’t that bad,” added Gray quickly, apparently sensing something. “It’s just over-exaggerated because you were – are – a member of Fairy Tail, and that sudden betrayal made things go out of proportion. You’ve atoned enough, and you’re back with us. That’s the best result we could have gotten out of that war.”

Freed put a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s large back, rubbing small circles on it. “I was a part of all that destruction, too,” he whispered so only Laxus could hear. “It was my runes that forced guild members to fight one another. My runes that hurt everyone so badly. It wasn’t just you – I share that guilt, that burden. You’re not alone. But, we’re a part of the guild, we always will be. That’s the important thing. Not the mistakes you made, but the lessons you learned from them.”

Laxus smiled and kissed the top of Freed’s head. “Thank you,” he murmured softly.

Meanwhile, Natsu was staring at them with a mix of confusion and joy. “I didn’t know Freed was so sappy,” he declared.

Freed went a million shades of red and screeched, “Sappy?!” He lunged for Natsu. “Why you little-”

Natsu’s face turned blank. “I’m over eighty, your runes said so,” he retorted.

Freed turned purple and went for Natsu’s neck, hands making to strangle him.

Gray laughed. “All right, let’s all calm down here,” he said, flapping his hands in a placatory gesture. “Freed, relax. It was just a joke, you know he didn’t mean it. Natsu has a horrible case of foot-in-the-mouth disease,” he added, throwing a pointed glare at his boyfriend, who paled a little.

Somewhere in the middle of the sea, a certain straw-hat-wearing pirate sneezed.

“We’re not having much fun here, and it’s really obvious,” Gray continued, a spark in his eyes. “So why don’t we do this? Each one of us takes a turn suggesting a place or a thing we can do, and we decide on one, then do it. Afterwards, we split paths and go home after a fulfilling night, to more fulfilling things.”

“Not in the mood,” Natsu droned.

“I’m asexual,” Freed said.

Gray’s face flattened into a betrayed glare, which he directed at Natsu. “You were the one who couldn’t wait to get some this morning! You woke me up at five because you were horny!”

Natsu pouted. “Well, now I’m not,”

Gray rolled his eyes. “And anyway, there are other fulfilling things you can do. It’s not just sex. Like, I don’t know, watch something on the TV, or just cuddle on the couch or something,” His voice had dropped when he reached the last bit, and he was blushing furiously.

“Aww,” Freed teased, reaching forward to pinch the younger’s red cheek. “Gray is so cute. You lucked out, Natsu, unlike me.” he said jokingly.

Natsu kissed Gray’s temple and smiled. “I really did,” he said, sounding faraway.

Laxus shot up, indignantly asking, “What do you mean you didn’t luck out?”

Freed laughed. “Well, if we’re spending quality time together, we always go out on a date. We never just sit at home and watch trashy soap operas and comment on them, or cuddle, or things like that. There are some days I’d prefer to stay home and relax, you know?”

“Oh,” Laxus said in a strangled voice. “Sorry.”

A slightly awkward silence fell over the table, broken by Natsu clapping his hands loudly and saying, “All right, let’s all think of something. After five minutes, we say ours out loud.”

“Okay,” Gray shrugged.

“It’s your idea,” Laxus pointed out, putting Freed’s words to the back of his mind. Surely, he hadn’t meant it. Laxus could think on that later. “You could be a little more excited.”

“I could, but I don’t want to.” Gray said flatly.

Natsu smacked his arm. “Don’t be mean,” he chided.

Gray rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay. I suggest we go to a bar and get drunk.”

“No,” Laxus shouted immediately, aghast. Getting drunk was the worst idea when you were around a certain Rune Mage, because there were two kinds of Freed. Normal Freed, and Drunk Freed.

Now, Normal Freed was the regular sweet, gentle, intelligent but also dangerous man Laxus loved. Drunk Freed… well, that was another story entirely.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like it either,” Natsu added, and Freed nodded in agreement.

“A’right,” Gray shrugged and went back to staring out of the window.

A few minutes later, Natsu shot up, chirping, “Ooh! Ooh! I got one!”

They all turned towards him, Freed asking, “What is it?”

“We could go watch How to Train Your Dragon!” he said excitedly. “It’s really good.”

“Seen it,” droned Gray, Laxus and Freed in unison.

Natsu stared at his boyfriend in betrayal. “Gray…” he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. “How could you watch it without me?”

“We went together, you dumbass!” Gray shouted, throwing his hands up. “You went thrice, for God’s sake.”

Natsu frowned for a minute, then scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, you’re right. I forgot.”

Gray face-palmed. “You idiot.”

“We could all go home,” Laxus suggested out of sheer boredom. “And call an end to this bullshit.”

Freed elbowed him again. “Laxus, no.”

“Why not? It’s not working anyway,” he whined.

“That’s why Gray came up with this plan. So that we could make it work,” Freed emphasised the last three words and shot one of his deadly glares at Laxus, who gulped and nodded.

“Yes, sir,”

“Freed, you’re the only one who hasn’t said something yet. Do you have an idea or what? Should we just go with Laxus’ plan?” Gray asked.

Natsu stamped on his foot.

“Quit abusing me!” Gray cried, and smacked Natsu’s head. The two began to brawl in their seats, and Laxus sighed. Was it possible for them to stop fighting for even a minute?

Meanwhile, Freed had adopted a thoughtful expression, tilting his head to one side, one brow dipping.

Laxus could only think, This is why I love him.

That thought was dashed within a second when Freed proposed, “Karaoke?”

What the hell?!

“That’s… not bad, actually,” Natsu piped up. “I know where the nearest one is, I went with Macao and Wakaba once. It might be fun, and Gray has the best singing voice,” he added, nudging his boyfriend, who’d miraculously kept his clothes on so far.

“I can carry a tune well enough, but I’m not as good as Natsu says I am.” Gray muttered shyly.

“Shut up, you are,” Natsu retorted. “Have you heard yourself sing? It’s one of the few things I can’t find something to tease you about.”

Gray looked away, cheeks red. “You shut up,” he retorted weakly.

“Everyone’s on board, then?” Freed asked, clapping his hands together.

Gray nodded slightly. Natsu hummed in response. Laxus sat quietly, still not believing what was going on.

Karaoke?! Are you serious?! Freed, you’ve had some crazy ideas before, but karaoke with Gray and Natsu can be explained by nothing but you having gone off your damned rocker!

“Laxus?” Freed almost shouted, waving a hand in his boyfriend’s face. “We’re doing karaoke.”

“No way in hell!” Laxus recoiled. “It’s a shitty idea.” He nodded at Gray and Natsu, who were arguing quietly – or as quiet as they could get – about something or the other. “Karaoke. With those two. How can that be anything but trouble?”

Freed sighed through his nose. “Just… come with us. It might be fun. Plus, I’ll get to hear you sing! You always say no when I ask you to. Lighten up a little.”

“I like singing.” Laxus argued back. “I just don’t want to do it in front of… people.”

Freed pressed his lips together and glared at Laxus. “You’re making a scene,” he spat quietly.

And indeed, both Gray and Natsu had stopped fighting and were staring at Laxus and Freed, eyes flicking from one to the other as if they were spectators in a match of tennis.

“Okay. But I’m not singing,” Laxus warned finally.

“Aw,” whined Natsu. “I was so looking forward to seeing him! Laxus never loosens up.” Gray nodded in agreement.

Freed grinned. “Laxus is just being grumpy,” he said lightly. “Let’s go, come on!”

“I am not,” Laxus hissed under his breath, “being grumpy. I just… don’t like singing karaoke, okay?!”

Natsu got up and led Gray out of the café, Freed and Laxus following, the latter being dragged unwillingly by the former.

“Do we have to?” grumbled Laxus to his boyfriend.

Freed gave him a look. “Just do it. It won’t be that bad.”

“Yes, it will.”

Freed let out an exasperated sigh and yanked Laxus along with him. “Honestly,” he muttered, half to himself. “Couldn’t you just be cooperative for once? Drama queen.”

Laxus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, look who’s talking.”

Freed stopped abruptly. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” the blonde said nonchalantly, starting to walk at a steady pace. He stopped about a few feet from the still-frozen Freed and added over his shoulder with a sly smile, “We’ll be late if you keep standing there, you know. You might just melt like a candle, who knows?”

Freed turned red, lunging for the taller. “I’m going to kill you!”

But Laxus, surprisingly nimble for his large size, danced out of the way of Freed’s wrath just in time.

“Come on, slowpoke!” he called, continuing to follow Natsu and Gray. “Are you coming or not?”

Freed’s hands shook in barely controlled rage, but he stormed after his boyfriend anyway, not wanting to cause a bigger scene than he had already.

Damn Laxus. Knows just how to push all my buttons. he thought darkly as he stalked down the cobbled street, too busy stewing in his irritation to pay any attention to his surroundings.

And as a result, he promptly walked into six half-naked feet of Gray Fullbuster.

“Whoa!” Gray yelped, wheeling around to face him. “Freed, man, are you all right? You’ve got to watch where you’re going,”

“I’m fine,” growled Freed. “Just fine.”

Gray eyed him suspiciously. “…If you say so,” he eventually gave in, and trotted off behind Natsu.

Freed’s foul mood had mostly evaporated by the time they got to the karaoke bar, nearly an hour later. Of course, Laxus’ smug smirk did nothing to help, but Freed decided to be the bigger person and let it go.

It was proving to be harder than he’d thought. All Freed wanted to do was punch that little smile off Laxus’ face (and it wouldn’t hurt to knock in a few teeth too.)

“Uh… who’s paying?” Gray suddenly asked. “I’m… kind of broke.” Understandable. That engagement ring that was hiding in his and Natsu’s rarely-opened book cupboard had probably cost a fortune.

“Me too,” Natsu said with a shrug.

“Me as well,” Freed chimed in, grinning wickedly. Of course he wasn’t, but it would be nice to see the miserly Laxus shell out some Jewel for once.

They all looked at Laxus pleadingly. Natsu’s puppy eyes were dialled up to max power, and the Lightning Dragon Slayer found himself melting under that gaze.

“All right,” he relented. “I’ll pay. How many hours?”

“Three?” suggested Freed. “That should be enough. It’s already six, we can be done by nine and home by ten.”

Laxus sighed through his nose and paid, grumbling to himself all the while. A key was shoved into his hand, and he stared at the number before lumbering along the corridors, the other three following.

“One zero six,” he murmured to himself and unlocked the door. Natsu danced in, Freed smiling in amusement at the younger’s antics.

“All right,” Gray clapped his hands. “Natsu’s going first.”

“I am not! Why don’t you?” Natsu shouted indignantly, good mood disappearing in an instant.

“Why don’t you two do a duet?” suggested Freed, ever the mediator.

The couple exchanged dubious glances. Gray looked like he was about to puke; his face had taken on a greenish tint, and his eyes were wide and fearful as he shook his head at Natsu, who just shrugged and lifted his palms up in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

“We’re doing it,” announced Natsu finally, grabbing Gray’s hand.

“Then it’s settled!” Freed smiled. “Pick a song and let’s go!”

Natsu flicked the TV on and scrolled through the list, stopping on ‘Close to Me’.

Gray recoiled. “No. No way. I hate that song!”

“Come on, it’s just… two minutes long,” Natsu whined. “Please?”

“No!”

“I’m sure Freed and I would be better at karaoke than you,” Laxus called in a brief moment of insanity. “You don’t need to be so worried. We’d out-sing you any day!”

The greenish tint vanished completely, and Gray’s eyes shone with a dark gleam. “That sounded a lot like a challenge. And I don’t turn down a challenge.”

That was when Laxus knew for sure that this night was going to hell.

Gray and Natsu both grabbed a microphone each. Natsu clicked on the ‘play’ button, and music began to blare from the speakers.

Natsu had been right; Gray really did sing well. His strong voice flowed over each and every note, gracefully dipping low in the deeper parts and soaring in the higher ones. Each syllable was sung confidently, and his breaths were barely heard. Natsu was equally good, swooping in just when Gray stopped, timing his singing perfectly with that of his boyfriend’s. His lighter, higher voice made for an excellent combination with Gray’s baritone.

When they finished the song, both Laxus and Freed couldn’t help but clap till their hands were sore.

“That was amazing!” Freed complimented, walking over to high-five both Gray and Natsu. “Gray, you’re a dark horse! Why do you never sing at guild events? Your voice would go so well with Mira’s,”

Gray shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“Ah, I don’t like singing much.”

“Points: 9/10,” said the robotic voice of the karaoke machine.

Gray and Natsu high-fived each other. “Yes!”

“Guess it’s our turn,” said Laxus noncommittally, getting up and slinking over to the playlist.

Freed made a face when he saw the song Laxus had chosen. “Seriously?”

Laxus nodded, grinning evilly. “It’s called ‘payback’, Freed.”

“No. No. We are not doing this!”

Gray craned his neck over Laxus’ shoulder and promptly burst into raucous laughter.

“Oh my God, this is going to be priceless,” he cackled.

Laxus smirked and pressed ‘play’.

The lyrics flashed on the large TV screen, and Natsu took one look at it before joining his boyfriend in hysterics on the floor.

“I have a pen,” Laxus began, holding one hand up with a wicked grin on his face. “I have an apple!”

“Laxus, no!” Freed shoved an elbow into Laxus’ gut.

Laxus brought his hands together. “Apple pen! Come on, Freed, do you really want to lose?”

The look Freed gave him stated clearly that he was so going to pay for this later. Ah, well. Might as well go crazy when he could. This night was going to hell anyway; whatever he did now couldn’t possibly make it worse.

And if he had to do this, he was going to make it as embarrassing as possible.

“I have a pen, I have a pineapple,” Laxus sang, completely out of tune.

Freed gave him a miserable look, but joined in. “Pineapple pen.”

“Apple pen,” Laxus continued.

“Pineapple pen,”

“Boom! Pen pineapple apple pen!”

With a start, Laxus realised he was actually enjoying this. A grin had made its way onto his face at some point.

The fact that he could not actually sing, however, was a bit of a drawback. But Laxus had never been one to worry about drawbacks.

And so, he continued to sing (or rather, bray the lyrics of PPAP).

Well, at least Freed had started trying somewhere along the second repetition of ‘Pen pineapple apple pen!’

When they finally finished, three whole minutes later, Gray and Natsu just stared dumbly at the older two.

“What?” Laxus demanded.

Natsu shook his head and burst into laughter.

“That was hilarious, man!” Gray added, giggling as well. “I didn’t know you sang that well, Laxus,”

“Shut up,” Laxus grumbled.

“Points: 5/10,” said the machine.

“You shut up too!” Laxus shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the thing.

Freed glared at his boyfriend. “I can’t believe you picked that song. Seriously?”

Laxus shrugged. “Like I said. Payback.”

“Is anyone hungry?” Natsu asked excitedly. “We could get food.”

Gray grunted. “Hn.”

Somewhere in heaven, about five hundred people with dark hair and red eyes all sneezed at the same time.

Freed nodded. “That seems like a good idea.”

They all looked at Laxus, who was out cold on the floor at the thought of having to spend more money.

Then Freed shrugged and pulled Laxus’ credit card out of his pocket. “Eh, it’s on him anyways.”

“Great,” Natsu grinned and picked up the menu card, an evil glint in his eye.

When Laxus finally came to, he would regret ever agreeing to pay for anything that involved food and one Natsu Dragneel.

The first thing Laxus saw when he opened his eyes were piles and piles of empty plates.

The smell of shrimp tempura hung in the air, and Laxus’ stomach grumbled. Natsu lay comatose on the couch, one hand on his belly. A half-empty bottle of wine was clenched in the other hand. Gray had his hands behind his head, eyes trained on Laxus, and Freed… Freed was passed out next to Natsu. An empty bottle lay near his head.

It didn’t take long for Laxus to connect the dots.

“What. Is. This.” he ground out.

Natsu’s eyes fluttered open at the sound, and he looked up hazily. “Oh, we o’dered food ‘cause we got ‘ungry,” he slurred.

“And are you drunk?!” Laxus bellowed in outrage, getting up and snatching the bottle out of his hand. “How do you get drunk off half a bottle of wine?!”

But Natsu’s eyes had slid shut again; he was unconscious.

“One and a half,” Gray corrected. “He downed it like water. Freed had two.”

“Freed’s a lightweight!” Laxus threw his hands up in the air. “How did you not know this? Why didn’t you stop him?!”

Gray smirked. “Of course I knew. I just like watching people make fools out of themselves. It was really hilarious, you know; they were lurching and swaying, they couldn’t even stand up straight, and then they put on party music and tried to dance, but Natsu bonked his head on the handle of the couch, and Freed just kind of… fainted.”

Laxus pinched his nose and sighed. “We should get them home.”

Gray gave the two drunk, unconscious men a once-over. “I wish I could just leave them here, but you’re right.” He rose and stretched, then walked over to Natsu, pulling the Fire Dragon Slayer’s entire weight onto his back. “Come on, Flame Brain. Time to go home.”

Laxus kneeled down in front of the couch, his back to Freed, and slid Freed’s legs under his arms. He laced Freed’s hands around his neck, making sure the smaller boy was secure, and stood up.

“La-zus?” Freed slurred. “I – wh-”

“Shh,” Laxus said gruffly. “Hold on tight. We’re going home.”

He felt Freed’s head settle comfortably in the crook of his neck, like always. The soft, steady breathing told him Freed was asleep. Laxus looked over at Gray, who’d given up on dragging Natsu home and was holding him princess-style.

He wore the same smile as Laxus.

Gray turned his head, catching Laxus’ eye, and they both smiled.

“They’re idiots,” Gray said.

Laxus nodded. “But they’re our idiots.”

Gray hummed in agreement. “I actually ended up having some fun. Not that I ever want to do this again,” he added, shuddering.

Laxus shivered. “Hell no. If either Freed or Natsu comes up with the idea of a double date again, we do all we can to stop them.”

“It’s a deal,” Gray agreed quickly, face pale. “Let’s get out of here.”

And both Mages hightailed their way out of the karaoke bar to their respective homes, carrying their boyfriends all the way.

Little did they know that Freed and Natsu had heard everything they’d said, and were already planning more evil things to do to Gray and Laxus.

After all, as Freed said, tomorrow was a new day, and brought with it a whole new host of plans to torture their boyfriends.

@ftlgbtales

[tuwam]

🕯️ hyun & hyemi!

random acts prompts!hyun x hyemi@consilian

it’s one of those days.

one of those days where hyun can’t really control things. where he wakes up still stuck in his dream, a little lazy and a little careless. he thinks he might’ve been that way recently. going out to buy supplies for baking, baking and then inviting hyemi over to see the product. he’s been interacting too much and thus his powers have started to grow and claim the unsuspecting parts of him.

he woke up with a crick in his neck and he already knows the kind of day it’ll be.

he spends the entire morning fighting. fighting to keep the electricity from dancing around the walls - because a power outage at 11 in the morning on a sunday will surely make him hear his landlord’s wrath. he wants to game but he was homework to attend to and if he games he’ll have no energy to study. besides, the crew he usually games with aren’t around on sunday mornings. so he spends his time in bed, eyes on the ceiling and head a little lost. he sees the crackling, hears it sizzle against the bed sheets for the first time.

he feels like sinking, feels like if the sheets were to wrap and smother him - that’d be okay. everyone would be safe. he wouldn’t have to apologize for what he is, he wouldn’t have to fight himself each and every morning. he would just be, trapped here and this godforsaken electricity that’s taken over would meet it’s match. hyun often wishes he could smother it, snuff it out his body but he’s never tried, is far too terrified to try it.

all these days of acting fearless, it’s his own body that reminds him just how cowardly he is.

all these days of going out of his way and for what, for a bad spell to remind him why he shies away. it’s not quite bad spell territory but he hears a lamp sizzle and bust and he accepts it.

he’ll have to clean the pieces up soon, remove the wire before it extends to the other lamps in the ceiling but he doesn’t want to. he doesn’t want to move quite frankly and that could be the reason the currents are rebelling. because this is their day, they’ve accumulated enough energy and they think he’s going to go out again - so they can go amok. and hyun won’t. if anything he won’t move.

he can’t recall if he called hyemi over, can’t recall what day it is or whether the lamp actually broke or not. the longer he fights the fuzzier his sight gets, the more his head hurts, the more he wishes he could fall back asleep. the more he wishes just being wasn’t as painful as that. of course he’s forgotten, of course these past few days have been a strange high hyemi a good motivator, a gentle one for him to act through.

of course he should’ve known playing human would backfire.

if hyun tries to count time now it’s useless. if he tries to check his phone to make sure hyemi doesn’t come over, his fingers are shaking and his breath is shallow. he thinks - this is his body laughing at him. that’s fine. if he can get a message out that’s fine. he types it out, a quick ‘don’t come today’ and can’t check to see if the grammar is right, if he doesn’t look as hopeless as he sounds. as strange as he is. he just types and the sparks flying through the phone are enough to send him toppling over the bed. toppling and the bulbs popping in succession. 

that’s three light bulbs he’ll need to change and he doesn’t hear himself groan at the thought. he lays there, feels a piece of glass against his cheek and can only manage a sigh. 

no movement until he hears the doorbell ring. sparks shoot towards the handle before he can stop them and hyun moves for the first time. dashes really, body buzzing with the attack of the currents. he’s a bit like the energizer bunny, the minute he touches the door handle his body vibrates up and down, staccato and rushing into the frame. it takes five minutes of this before he finds his voice and hopes whoever it is goes away.

‘hyun? you okay? you texted me to come over.’

the currents don’t laugh, but the dancing they do around his frame sound a bit like cackling. because of course if he typed with his eyes half closed he couldn’t check the message. all this time worrying about keeping her away and she’s showed up. and he’s a mess. not the, notes strewn across the floor or hair a little messy from morning aftershocks. this is him as he is and will always be. too inhuman, too dangerous.

“ ‘m fine.” his words slur. of course they do. his body, pulses against the door, currents holding his hand to the doorknob. because of course he’s forgotten his gloves, of course.‘are you eating? your mouth sounds full - did you make something?’ she sounds amused, she sounds like the joy he’s started to settle into. the lie he went around with.“ ‘m fine.” so begins his lie.‘....did you mean to text me? do you need me to get something?’ the more he vibrates, the more the shocks start to pick up around the apartment. if he were to turn around he knows he’d see things flying about, electricity spreading and rumbling throughout the room. it’s going to get worse before it gets better and the only thing preventing it from leaving the room is him.“...go. p-please.” it doesn’t hurt, it’s just a build up, pressure that makes him feel like he can’t breathe. clogged up.‘you - you want me to leave?’ as the pressure gets worse he’s sliding down to the bottom of the door, one hand still on the doorknob. currents crackling against his body. he’s draining and he knows it. as long as she leaves before it bursts she’ll be fine. she’ll be,“safe. want you safe.”‘i’m safe. i’m fine. are you okay?’“no - no, safer outside.” he’s not making sense, he knows that. he can’t be bothered to try though. his breathing is quicker, harsher as he tries to hold onto what control he has now. hyemi can hear it - she must. maybe she’ll become so confused she’ll leave.

when he hears her again her voice is ear level, and he thinks she’s sunk to his level. she shouldn’t.

‘when you texted - i figured you forgot you’d sworn to study today. i came here ready to scold you for putting aside your work. you get so frustrated with it sometimes.’ he doesn’t have the energy to speak, body something limp and useless against the door. still a barrier but less of a presence. so he focuses on hers. listens as that’s all he can do to keep consciousness, keep the currents at bay. when he’s this drained, they start to sting, and then they start to numb. ‘and I was hoping you’d at least finish the book so I could bribe you to finishing with another one. I brought it, if you want to read it.’ there’s a pause after that, he expects her to get up and leave. doesn’t hope for it anymore, but expects it, braces himself to pass out because he’s sure he will.

‘i’ll read it. you’re listening right? i think you’ll like this one.’

it’s thirty minutes later. maybe forty-five. the objects have all fallen. some broken, some back where they need to be. he hasn’t fallen asleep yet, he’s been breathing though. not enough energy to speak but hyemi’s long stopped expecting that.

‘you let me share my stories with you. my favorite recipes and favorite things. i found out that you hate anything raspberry flavored, and that you’re surprisingly good with dough. when you share things with people - the world feels a little easier. i never thanked you i suppose -  never know how.’

she doesn’t need to. she shouldn’t.

“don’t.” his throat’s dry, burdened with fatigue.

‘we’re friends right? so i’m happy to share what i can. i’m glad to. and i’m glad you’re letting me.’ he feels his eyes close at that. if he manages a thank you from that, he’s not sure. if he even speaks, if hyemi even hears him. 

when he comes to, a box of tea and the book are sitting there. a text in his phone saying not to drink too much at once and to finish his work. when he comes to it’s starting to look more like a bad spell than a curse. he gathers himself and gets to work cleaning, thoughts of reading and sharing his thoughts with hyemi motivating him.

[sterek]

I love Omega!Stiles, can you rec me some of your fav fics with this trope??

Sure can! :)

You Smell Like Mine by bleep0bleep [13k, E]

People talk about the alpha instinct, an alpha's head being swayed by a nice-smelling omega, or the desire to drop everything and show off. Derek's never felt any of that. He's just not that kind of alpha.

Then he meets Stiles.

Fight Fires In Your Best Clothes by standinginanicedress [67k, E]

The key isn’t actually being confident, he repeats in his head in Lydia’s breathy voice. It’s faking the hell out of it and looking as sexy as possible while you do it. For omegas, it’s easy. There’s a natural charm to all of us that only takes seconds to engage, and barely takes practice.

Walk into the room, he chants in his head. Own it, and look people in the eyes. Find the best looking alpha, have them buy you a drink, and the rest is easy.

Worth the Wait by Dexterous_Sinistrous [13k, E]

Stiles always had a thing for Derek, but then again, so did everyone else. Stiles just wanted to be seen as different, which was why he waited.

But maybe he waited a little too long.

The Fox & The Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous [79k, E]

The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.

Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.

For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.

Empty by DiscontentedWinter [48k, M]

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

(Note: it has Parrish’s pov but it’s Sterek and it’s brilliant!)

Leaving Paradise by NARKOTIKA [43k, E]

A boy dreams of freedom, a broken man finds home, and they learn to love in a world where it feels more impossible than water falling from the sky.

A Change of Plans by sunnydalewerewolf [12k, E]

Stiles and Derek had been best friends since they were babies, their parents having all been friends since college. Growing up, it had seemed very apparent that Derek would be an alpha and Stiles an omega. Stiles had just kind of always assumed they would end up together, and he thought Derek had assumed the same. No one ever said anything about it, but that’s just the way things would be.

So when they both end up being omegas, things get kind of complicated.

Flower Bomb by rispacooper [6k, M]

When an eligible omega glanced your way, you were supposed to glance back. Derek could hear an echo of his mother’s voice in his head, gently reminding him there were alphas who would kill to find themselves the focus of an omega’s interest.

Derek didn’t have the dominating personality or drive necessary to be classified as alpha, and there was no bright spark of appeal about him to say he was omega. He was tall and in good shape. He had a pretty face, dark hair and light eyes, good bone structure. But he had no need to get in fights or conquer the world. He didn’t even like arguing with his family. He was solidly beta, and wouldn’t have minded, never had minded, except for when Stiles was near.

You're a Mess, But You're a Catch to Me by jsea [11k, E]

The laws are clear: omegas are required to have an alpha guardian. So when the sheriff gets shot, Derek is roped in to stepping up as Stiles' temporary alpha while he recovers.

Derek knew it was going to be a bad idea, but he never could have predicted all of the ways that Stiles would end up turning his life upside down.

Someday Came Today by Fatebegins [81k, E]

"March 2, 1810. . .Today, I met the man I’m going to marry."

At the age of eight, Genim “Stiles” Stilinski showed no signs of Great Beauty. And even at eight, Stiles learned to accept the expectations society held for him--until the evening when Derek Hale, the handsome and dashing Alpha of the Hale pack, solemnly kissed his hand and promised him that one day he would grow into himself, that one day he would be as beautiful as he already was smart. And even at eight, Stiles knew he would love him forever.

But the years that followed were as cruel to Derek as they were kind to Stiles. Stiles is as intriguing as the Duke boldly predicted on that memorable day--while Derek is a lonely, bitter man, crushed by a devastating loss. But Stiles has never forgotten the truth he set down on paper all those years earlier--and he will not allow the love that is his destiny to slip through his fingers.

I Still Believe by IAmAVeronica [111k, E]

War is hell.Falling in love with enemy solider Derek Hale, secretly mating him, and then accidentally being left behind by him when the war suddenly and violently ends is a special kind of hell apparently reserved for one human omega Stiles Stilinski.But Stiles is determined to find his mate again, because Derek left more than just Stiles in a war-ravaged and werewolf-hating country - and with danger at every turn and nothing but Derek's gun and his own wits for protection, hell hath no fury like Stiles now.

Fire, Fury, and Flame by IAmAVeronica [124k, E]

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm.Awesome.And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts.Joy.

a mountain to climb by grimm [126k, E]

"Don’t do it,” he mutters. “Don’t do it, please, don’t do it.”

But there it is, a soft pink line appearing right next to the control. Stiles’ legs give out from under him; he sinks to the bathroom floor, hands shaking, his entire body shaking. It’s hard to breathe, his vision blurring around the edges. There’s a knock on the door behind him and then it opens and Scott sits down next to him.

“I’m fucked,” Stiles gasps, tears prickling at his eyes. “I’m fucked!"

The Chase by saltandbyrne for Akuneko42 [10k, E]

Derek's fourth Chase will be his last if he doesn't catch an omega this time. He's starting to doubt this whole soul-mate thing anyway, at least until someone from his past shows up and gives him the run of his life.

Commands and Contrasts by ravingrevolution [88k, M]

"Collared Alphas are Careful Alphas"

Seriously? What the hell was that? Because putting a collar on someone was supposed to make them manageable or something? Sure thing.

Or: "Mated Betas are Better Betas"

Again with the control issues. But then again betas were by far the most common classification type, so Stiles assumed that was mainly posted to keep things kind of even.

His least favorite was definitely: "Keep Omegas Pure - Report Uncollared Unmated Alphas Always"

Just wow.

Stiles attended all the home economics classes, like a good omega, and took all his pills, like a good omega, and outwardly submitted to authority, like a good omega, but he didn’t buy into the whole structure dynamic thing. He just didn’t.

In the Solstice of our Hearts by ravingrevolution [73k, E]

"You're not putting that up your butt," Scott told him flatly and Stiles couldn't stop the pissed off whine he made, but his friend continued. "Stiles, you can't put that up your butt, you know that. Your butt won't be ready for anything to go in it until-"

"Okay, okay!" he said, flailing his hands to stop his friend's lecture. "Message received, no butt stuff until I'm pounced on by some freaking animal in the forest and ravished to within an inch of my life. Got it. Thanks, Scotty, I mean heaven forbid I actually try to take control of my life and give myself a fighting chance or anything."

"Not all alphas are animals," Scott said quietly.

Maybe he was right, but Stiles wasn't holding his breath.

Ssshhh! (or the voice in my head will have to shout) by mirrorkill [20k, E]

Things in Beacon Hills are always weird, but Deputy Derek Hale is pretty damn sure he's getting the brunt of this week's insanity. There's a serial killer in town getting their kicks by posing people weirdly and maybe the local coven is to blame. His mom's setting up his sister with his new boss's cute son. There's some guy talking in his head. Oh, and his heat kicks in, four months too early. Also: he's pretty sure cell phones are the worst thing on the planet.

This is Derek Hale's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week. All he wants is to enjoy his new apartment in peace. But you can't always get what you want. And if he tries real hard, will the voice in his head help him get what he needs?

The One With The Mail-Order Brides and A/B/O Dynamics by Stoney [16k, E]

Wolves aren't meant to be alone. Laura tells Derek this repeatedly. Which... is why Derek knows he's losing his mind, as Laura has been dead for more than six years. Wolves aren't meant to be alone.

And so he sends away for a companion. JUST for a companion, not for a mate. The universe, however, has a different plan in store for him.

Hello, Heartbreaker by astoryaboutwar [18k, E]

It’s a popular joke among Alphas: fuck an Omega, get heartbreak on your hands. Omegas are fragile little emotional things, needy and whiny. Stiles refuses to become that, or to believe that he’s anything like that.

Stiles and Derek have been fuckbuddies for a while when Derek loses his memories of the past three years - and them - in an accident. (Also - everyone's a werewolf, and everyone's alive.)

an exaltation of larks by llassah [25k, E]

There are times when he feels as if they could fall into bed together, easy as breathing. If Stiles were not highborn, if he were an omega without connections, Derek would be sorely tempted. As it is, he resists. Derek wants, he yearns, but he resists. Still, the sight of Stiles in his cot is enough to test him, even now that it is familiar. At the end of each lambing season, he sleeps for a week, worn down by months of hard work, of relentless struggle. He doesn’t know how he’ll feel by the time Stiles leaves, how he’ll feel after long days and longer nights spent resisting the insistent tug of Stiles’s scent and the inclinations of his own foolish heart.

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

Settle Down by wearing_tearing, whatthehale [153k, E]

Stiles is a struggling author barely making ends meet.

Derek is a successful architect whose biological clock is ticking.

Enter a surrogacy agency, two packs, and a particularly sticky and toe curling heat week and you get a match made in heaven.

The Sanctuary by chase_acow [24k, E]

Stiles runs away during his first heat, right into the waiting and ambiguously scary arms of the Alpha's nephew, Derek Hale. He doesn't have any choice except to submit, but along the way, he digs up a mystery that threatens his family and even the town's safety.

Consort to the King by Ember [26k, E]

King Derek, alphas of alphas, ruler of the realms, lord of the city of Beacon Hills, has just asked newly discovered omega Stiles to be his consort and mate. And Stiles, being the lowly commoner that he is, has no choice but to say yes. Will the King's past allow him to love again? Will Stiles ever escape the confines of his new mate's possessive will? Can there be love once more in the castle? Or perhaps, yet again, another betrayal?

[rkcheri]

１— #lights, camera, action ! ° [ + ] lee, jihyun —————— ✦ ˟     › ! royal survival &. episode two: interview ┄ ·˚₊ 

it’s supposed to be easy. 

a light, fun to and fro of words, a way into your personality. a little of this, a little of that, a piece of yourself that the viewers can take apart and never really put back together again. it’s supposed to be everything jihyun had been taught, a little bit of confidence and all the more of herself to give away. but why is it that even her name unnerves her. her name brings a bought of memories, all too early to forget, that remind her of just how easy it is to go from being the girl to being what girl. and jihyun did not want to be part of the forgotten. so she goes by, piece by piece, her heart on her sleeve and her smile as bright as it can be without faltering to the pain that digs in at the cheeks. she speaks with a voice she’s known for. the happy person she wants to be seen as, the one who’s so used to the camera that she’s a factor in why her smile can’t seem to leave. that so jisub’s words haven’t made a dent in her; showing everything and anything except for what was a skim of the truth. 

it was looking at things half-full rather than half-empty. it was the first episode, and all her hopes were dashed, what else could they really do other than expel her from the show in its entirety. it’s a thought that hadn’t crossed her mind until today, and now it’s a thought that never actually will as she sings the words she knows she doesn’t really believe but does so, anyways, because pride speaks higher in volumes than it does in insecurities. 

                          ❛ let’s start from the beginning,                                   how does it feel being chosen for the show ? ❜

it’s an easy question; a way to let her guard down and ease her into the setting. it’s a question that has an intention within an intention; it’s a way for a laugh between the producers and herself to find insight in the littlest of details. it’s the telling way they speak that unnerves jihyun; that gives her a run for her money that laughter builds and falls from soft lips.

she’s thoughtful, though, a pause in her laughter -- outwards banter shielded and cut between the seams as the camera pans into her viewing. lips fall shut and the smile is faint as she thinks, eyes fall, fingers scratch at her jaw before she can return the favor of answering. a smile is always shown, rising over the last as she begins with a soft laugh, “i auditioned on a whim. i thought, what could this teach me -- how else could i grow from this,” it’s true, growth was part of it -- but something more important was what had driven her to it. “i was happy, of course, i was absolutely jumping for joy. royal’s very own survival show -- and i was on it. it’s a dream, much different than the last. it’s a feeling i felt before, when i was on my first survival show. it’s surreal, knowing the risks and what can happen, but i took the chance, and i was happy when they allowed me to be on the show.” 

“and knowing, if i’m able to make it to the end. it’s my one in a million chance, to -- y’know,” it’s a moment she wants to remember and it hurts as it echoes further into the depths of her. “debut.”  it wakes a level of anguish she keeps locked heavily beneath her heart. it’s splattered against her sleeve, smile as torn by the thought -- wistful and wrecked, all the same. it’s a dream everyone reaches for, but only so many can -- a platform for the show. debuting was but an exclusivity that jihyun can further hope to achieve. “it’s all i’ve ever wanted, and i’m happy to be here fighting for that chance.”

                 ❛  fighting -- funny word to use, if you’re fighting for this chance,                              what do you think of the other girls in the show ?                        anyone you see as potential friends, or possible rivals ? ❜

she can see the way the gears are working, the way lips peak when she speaks about fighting -- when words are so easily delved in such ways. jihyun can speak in one, and find it taken in a different direction. the words roll of the tongue and she knows how one can interpret rivals as threats in a small misdirection of speaking. 

“i know some of the girls from before. many of them are friends i’ve known for years at royal, some i’ve yet to know, but they’re all beautiful in their own way, a lot of them have this charm about them. a --” she pauses, as hands rise, a make-shift of movements that couldn’t necessarily be described with words, “spark, is that what you call it? they have this certain something that just needs to be on stage and i find that admirable.” 

fingers calm, a tumbling of frenzied taps against her knees as she continues, “they’re all potential friends but that could be said with rivals also. they each have something unique about them and that makes it all the more interesting, i need to look out for each and every one of them, honestly. i mean, you’ve got eunae, lisa, seolhyun and jieun -- legs for days and they can definitely out-dance me. there’s soohyun, seoyoung, rose and jiwon --” jihyun nods, voice low as she registers the names quickly; the faces a blur as she speaks, “they’re the ones i know i should look out for, their voices are just as great if not more than my own and they’re younger. they’ve got that on them. dawon and soojung as well have not only voices but they’re gorgeous as well, but that’s for all of them if i’ve yet to say, they’re all beautiful. inside and out, i’ll vouch for it even if we’ve only spoken so little in the time we’ve been together, i --”

she sighs, “it’s intuition, i guess?” soft smiles share soft shrugs as she continues for the last time, a long-winded addition only calms her and screams for breath as she nears the last of the list, “there’s also elly and yubin who i know i have nothing to offer, they can rap in their sleep -- something i know i can never do.” she plays it by heart, feels the tears along her sleeve soften; brighten as they heal in their place. jihyun can only say so much before she sees the producer overhead signaling her to wrap it up -- onto the next, and she’s still yet to say what she wants to say most. “it’s a strong diversity of people, it’s all girls, and they’re all they’re own. i can’t say i’m jealous but i am intimidated by their talent.”

                              ❛  if you think they’re intimidating,             how did it feel to being on the royal survival stage for the first time ?                                         as scary as your opponents or more so ? ❜

“i wasn’t scared.” she admits at first. jihyun was never one to scare easy; always the one falling head-first into the fire of things, further so that the point of no return was always but a step away. “being on stage, for me, whether it’s for elimination or performing, is exciting. your nerves are at an all-time high. you’re out of breath, you don’t know what’s to come and yet, you give your all to your presence. you want to be seen but can only do so much. so you stand, confidently so, in hope that the camera will be on you if only for a moment. it’s what people dream of: their fifteen seconds of fame, to see that the camera has eyes only on them, even if it’s for a second. because sometimes, a second is all that matters.” she pauses, a whirlwind of words spouted in a moment’s notice only delivers a tell-tale sign of rambling. but she stops, thinks for a moment more only to smile, “or in so jisub’s case, two seconds.” 

another smile, a laugh that follows has her silent in it’s following. thinking once more always pins her down, weighs her heart and allows her to be raved by the frenzy that is her mind. so she uses it to her wills, spills what little she hopes to be shown to the production team. “for me,” jihyun clears her throat, picks at her wrist; eyes downcast. “it wasn’t the first time i was on a stage like royal survival’s but, it always feels the same way.”

                                                 ❛  if you weren’t scared,                     how did it feel when so jisub placed you in the minor team ?                                    do you think this was a reasonable choice ?                                         do you agree with so jisub’s critique ?  ❜

the ball starts rolling, the questions become harder than the last and suddenly jihyun realizes that this must be how it feels when the floor beneath your once stable feet give out. 

“this time, though,” she continues from what she says last; jihyun shudders because she sees it. sees the way jisub’s stature stands tall and mighty against her own; sees the inaudible exhale in his voice, the deliverance of disappointment expertly sung between the lines. “it hurt.” 

but again, she relives it. feels the hurt expand from every exhale to each inhale. dying to regain strength in her own lungs; trying to find some sort of explanation to this grief. 

“i wasn’t expecting it, but -- i guess, i should have. my audition wasn’t good. and i agree with him, it was the same performance i’ve been giving. it’s what i’m good at, and i guess -- i couldn’t find it in me to go above my comfort zone. instead, it was easier to be safe, knowing that what i do know what to do would be better than giving into this risk. it was a risk, already, just auditioning. did i want to chance it by doing something that could easily mess up that chance?” it’s rhetorical, but jihyun answers it with a soft shake of her head.

a messy smile that brings about too many emotions, she’s bitter from the outcome but she knows, in the end, she was the one who deserved it the most.

she sees her audition tape through her own eyes; sees how easy it is for her to play the piano back and forth, through and through, black and white -- all too easily does she sing, that notes come much like a wings to a newly-birthed butterfly. how ironic, the moment she feels her wings finally raise her up -- she knows how easy it is to bring her down.

             ❛  from what so jisub had said, do you believe you’re at your peak ?                                                        is this it for lee jihyun ? ❜

nothing comes easy, she tells herself now -- so why did she think she could do so in an audition tape? had she really met her end -- was this it for her? was there any higher she could go?

it’s a question she fears when paced with jisub’s criticsm; the episode replays in her mind. the cold gleam of the spotlight stunts her in seconds as she’s exposed to lights, cameras, and the way the smile on their faces speak of the humiliation she’s lived since that day. she can only hope her smile is as convincing as she makes it out to be. it’s expected, read: she should have expected it. she’s only thought about it everyday, every minute, every second of each waking moment -- even in her dreams do they appear. does she succumb to the desperations one lives with when their whole world has been torn down and must be built from the down up.

if one could have it -- it was the her ceo’s sick way of giving her a reset button. 

she musters up the courage; stashes the fears and doubts away, wipes them from her gaze as fingers push back dark tendrils from her eyes. jihyun is confident to a fault, but only so much can do to someone’s confidence. but she leads with this, a confidence she’s used to guide her way; what she’s used the most in her time as a trainee. a la fake it ‘til you make it, no?

“no, this is not my peak.” it speaks volumes for someone’s pride when faced with their demons; her own dangles before her: through the humiliation she breeds a newer insight. a fresh outlook on what she’s mangled, what she has to improve and how to deliver such improvement in the eyes of those who matter most; it all comes down to this in it’s passing appeal. “i’ve still so much to offer and i hope, it can be shown until the very end.”

“i may not deserve it right now,” a deep breathe, inhale -- exhale.

“but i’m still here,” she smiles, the brightest of those in passing, “i’m still fighting for my chance to be on that stage.”