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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year

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And Eat It, Too: Chapter Ten: Drastic Solutions

In which Jon and Tim begin the slow process of making up, Gertrude's last resort shows itself, and Elias violates boundaries, morals, and Jon's ability to reason…

>>> NOW ON AO3!

Sad Martin warning.

Salesa cameo!

Note: This one gets intense - Elias is trying to overwhelm Jon, and that includes some serious gaslighting and violation of boundaries. It is, at best, dubious consent.

No, Jon. What Elias says in here is definitely not valid.

(Masterpost including playlist)

CHAPTER TEN

Jon has two dress shirts, one sweater, and one pair of work slacks left in his bag. It was very easy to pack for Beijing.

It’s also beginning to feel personal.

Not enough to take my freedom and my humanity and my very mind, no, he thinks darkly as he stalks out the door. They’ve also got to have the cardigans I’ve had since uni.

At least, without webs, there’s no reason not to eat the statements Elias left.

Jon reads them on the way, seated beside Elias, but a million miles away. He didn’t even get to be disappointed that the stag leather—apparently treated—took on none of the unpleasantness from last night.

He finishes a few minutes from the Institute, and rests his head back, content. Exhales slowly. Then a strange thought surfaces. “Who is Adelard Dekker?” he says out of nowhere.

Elias smiles. “He isn’t in the statements you’re reading.”

“No, but he… he’s in my head, for some reason.”

“You know who he is.”

“I don’t—” But suddenly, he does. “A friend of Gertrude’s.”

“Well done. Though I might say, a colleague. She didn’t have friends.”

Jon snorts. “Not our Gertrude.”

“Indeed. Some days, I think she was more Lonely than Beholding—but anyway. Dekker was someone she used to go hunting with, Jon. A vigilante, out to end the Fears’ cruel reign on humanity.”

Elias finds that more amusing than Jon thinks is warranted. “I think he knows something.”

“He is, I believe, dead.”

“So are most statement givers. I need to read more.”

“You will, Jon,” says Elias, soothing, as they pull into the lot behind the Institute. “You will.”

Tim is furious. “You’ve got some nerve,” he says, which could mean anything, and storms out of the archive.

Martin puts on a brave face. “I’ll bring you some tea, okay?”

“Thank you,” says Jon, who feels like he must have three heads, the way everybody’s looking at him, and hurries into his office.

He needs to concentrate.

He’s finding it hard.

He misses Michael.

You will need a guide.

Written in unfamiliar hand, on web-touched paper.

You will need a guide.

After Elias made clear he put Michael in the one place Jon could not look for it.

You will need a guide.

“I need a vacation,” Jon mutters.

“Uh, yeah, you do,” says Martin, delivering tea.

Jon thanks him.

Martin blinks at Jon’s left hand.

Heat rises in Jon’s face. He tries to be very still, to be very… not what he is. “What?”

“Nothing!” says Martin, smiles at him with force.

Jon slides his left hand under the desk.

Damn you, Hopworth, he thinks.

“Really, though… are you okay?”

Jon meets his eyes. “I don’t know, Martin. I don’t think I have a normal metric, anymore.”

Martin’s broad shoulders slump.

Jon suddenly feels like he kicked a kitten. “I…” He looks for a subject change. “You said… people… came to visit. While I was in the hospital.” He swallows. “I met one—huge fellow. Jared Hopworth.”

Martin shudders. “Yeah, he was… freaky. I’m sorry, Jon, just… wrong, all over. But he wasn’t the scariest.”

Jon feels sick, can feel his face pale. “I’m sorry, Martin. You shouldn’t have had to... Be in this.”

Martin looks stubborn, abruptly, and Jon wonders how much of that he usually hides. “It’s my choice, Jon.”

“Yes, of course, but—”

“Do you want to know who else came, or not?”

“Five guys, you said?” Jon allows the subject change.

“Well,” says Martin. “It might have been four. I, uh. Exaggerated a bit.”

Jon’s lips quirk. “I’m all ears. Or eyes, anyway.”

That pulls a weak smile from Martin, and Jon considers it a win.

“So there was… that guy, Jared,” says Martin, “who offered to give me an extra liver so I could go drinking with him like a champion, but I told him right off.”

Jon rubs his face. “He what.”

Margin continues. “There was that guy right before you woke up. I don’t know what was up with him, but he really spooked Georgie. Which… is a shame, because I kind of liked him. Really chill, you know?”

“That was Oliver Banks,” says Jon softly. “He belongs to the End.”

Martin sputters. “To…death? Oh, gods, was he there to kill you?”

“No.” Jon can’t look at him. “To tell me I had to make a choice.” He inhales. “And I did. So I woke up.”

He leaves the implications unsaid.

Martin swallows a few times, then decides to move on. “So some really rude guy came in, kind of short and scowling, thin white hair. Oh, and he had a cigar. In a hospital. Said his name was Arthur.”

“Nolan.” Jon feels a chill—ironic, given the topic. “Desolation. Martin, he could have set you on fire.”

“Well, he… well, he didn't,” rambles Martin. “He snarled that he had a message for you, and it was important, and he singed the bedsheet, so I grabbed the fire extinguisher and told him to leave,” says Martin, who probably was not aware that the fire extinguisher would have precisely zero effect on wielders of the Lightless Flame.

Jon feels very pale now. “Did these people get your name?”

“Well… yes… I mean, they asked, Jon! I didn't want to be rude,” Martin finishes, looking chided already.

Jon has no way to protect him. He feels perilously close to tears. Swallows. Swallows again. “All right. Was that all?”

“No.” And here, Martin looks actually pissed off. “There was an old man, and he threatened to throw me off a roller coaster,” he says, as though this were the height of wickedness.

Jon stares at him.

Martin actually huffs. “I mean, he was charming. All funny, and polite, and said he really wanted to see you when you woke up, no rush, no pressure, and then he told me about trying to bring the Vast into the world by what he called The Awful Deep, forcing people—sacrifices, Jon—into a diving bell, but the whole thing fell apart when a Hunter showed up, somehow, and broke it.” Martin is puffing.

Jon stares at him.

He can feel himself reacting, reaching. His entire body rising.

This is not a story he knows.

“A Vast ritual,” he breathes. “Did he say when? Did he say… anything else?” A statement, a tale he does not have—

Martin is looking at him oddly.

Jon tries to pull it back, tries to rein it in. He doesn’t want to scare him. “I… sorry, I…”

Martin looks resigned. “Well. It didn’t work, and that’s all. And then he asked me if I was scared of roller coasters.”

“You… aren’t, are you?”

“Neutral,” says Martin. “He was disappointed. Winked at me and left.”

Push past it, Sims, Jon tells himself, fighting, fighting the urge to compel Martin, to get the truth, to get every single detail Simon Fairchild (because that’s who it was) shared out of him, like scraping the last drops of jam out of a jar.

He can’t do that to Martin. He cannot.

Jon leans on his desk. “I think you should leave.”

“Jon,” says Martin, audibly hurt.

“Please, I… it’s not your fault, I… the Eye wants… wants the story. Please. Please go. I don’t… want to… want to…”

“Oh, Jon,” whispers Martin.

But he leaves.

Jon collapses on his desk, arms over his head. He can feel Martin go back to his desk, carrying that spinning, shining gem of a tale. Feel him have second thoughts, go to make some tea. Change his mind, and instead go upstairs to the library to find a bit of light, escapist reading.

Only when Martin is two floors away does the tether snap.

Breathing raggedly, Jon stays where he is, head down and covered, and vows into his desk. “I won’t do it,” he mutters. “You can’t make me do that to him. You won’t. I swear I’ll rip out my own… tongue before that happens.”

He had been going to say eyes.

He couldn’t. Was not able.

That is somehow worse than anything else that has happened yet today.

He wants to talk to Michael about this.

He can’t.

Jon throws himself into finding everything he can about Adelard Dekker.

He bursts into Elias’ office an hour later.

“Dekker got her explosives,” Jon announces, waving a letter.

“Good morning to you, too, Jon,” says Elias, pen in hand, as though they hadn’t shared breakfast. “Would you mind closing the door?”

Jon closes it, marches over, leans on the desk. “Explosives, Elias. That would damn well interrupt anything.”

“I am inclined to agree—if we had them,” says Elias. “Are you certain she didn’t use them already?”

Jon is not sure. He goes back to research.

Jon bursts into Elias’s office an hour after that. “I found a receipt!”

And then—late—he realizes Elias is not alone.

Another man sits across from him—a man in a heavy peacoat and captain’s hat. His beard and hair are white, but his face is so pale, it’s impossible to pinpoint his age.

Elias looks mildly annoyed this time. “For explosives?”

“For storage,” says Jon (who is this, does he know, can we speak freely, why does he know, why did it take me a moment to see him, why are his thoughts behind a fog—).

“How enterprising,” drones Elias.

The other man smiles.

An unpleasant smile. Cold.

He could know who this was, but it feels… like teasing a tiger. Jon decides (for once) to listen to his gut and ignores him. “I’ll just go check it out, shall I?”

“We will go after work,” snaps Elias.

He’s showing off for company, Jon thinks, and doubles down. “Absolutely not. I may need help from someone there, and doubtless the employees will have gone home by the time we leave here.”

Elias sighs. “Jon, this is not the time for willfulness. We will go together after working hours. Now don’t you have something else to do?”

Jon glances at the other man. Looks at Elias.

Leaves.

And hears through the door: “I almost believed that little act. You are invested, aren’t you? That must be him.”

What the actual hell?

“He can still hear you, Peter.”

Jon flushes and hurries away. Whatever this was about, Jon didn’t have the spare brain space to deal with it today.

It would take about an hour via bus to get to the storage unit in Hainault.

Jon calls Daisy.

Then he calls Basira.

Finally, he calls Melanie.

None of them are answering.

Waiting like this was maddening. Worse, it leaves his mind to wander.

Michael was in the Dark.

Was the Dark tied to a location, or was it like the Lonely—its own special place, regardless of where entered?

Maxwell Rayner was supposedly dead. That left Manuela Dominguez, Natalie Ennis, and Callum Brodie as potential contacts to provide an opening.

Which they one hundred percent would not do.

Jon rests his head in his hands. Was he really thinking about doing this?

Wasn’t it better? Shouldn’t he be relieved?

He was not relieved. He hoped Michael was unconscious, or its equivalent, and wasn’t suffering in there, too.

Jon knows he has no hope of going in and getting back out. The Dark and the Beholding were diametric opposites. He’d be devoured.

“Focus, Jon,” he tells himself, and returns to thinking about explosives.

Elias wants him to wait.

It would be smarter to wait.

He calls Daisy one more time, and this time, she picks up.

“Tim,” says Jon.

“No,” says Tim, already leaving. “Nope.”

“I need your help with the Unknowing,” says Jon, fully aware those are the magic words to manipulate him, hating that he has to use them, longing for the days when he could just ask.

Tom has stopped, half-turned.

“I think I found something,” Jon says. “Gertrude had a storage unit in Hainault under the name Jan Kelly. I think we need to go see what’s in it.”

Tim looks suspicious. “And you need me along, why? Just making sure I’m not getting up to anything nefarious?”

“Because every time I’ve gone anywhere recently, I’ve been accosted,” snaps Jon, unable to keep his tone from going sharp. “I’m afraid. It only happens when I’m alone, so I need someone strong with me, and you… you’re strong. I’m also bringing Daisy, and… you know how she is. I think if there are three of us, I think… I think we have a good chance at not being targeted.”

Tim stands there, unreadable. Anger doesn’t sit well on him; it darkens his look, tilts it from handsome to menacing.

Like a super villain, thinks Jon, and knows if he shares that little jewel, Tim would storm right the hell off.

“Fine,” says Tim, unexpectedly. “I’ll get my coat.”

No one, thinks Jon, would assume he and Tim knew each other.

They got into the bus at the same time. (It is empty. This seems like a bad thing.)

Then Tim sits behind him. Unlike Daisy, who crowds Jon in, staring at him like a wolf.

“Hi,” he says, finally. “Could you not do that?”

“I still don’t trust you,” she says.

“There’s a queue for that,” Jon quips.

No one laughs.

He hunches and slides down in his seat. “Got your lockpicks?”

“Of course. Got the rest, too.”

Tim leans in between the seats. “Armed and dangerous? That’s my kind of party.”

“If all goes well, a Stranger won’t be the only monster I kill today,” says Daisy, eyeing Jon.

Jon wonders when, in his life, he became the embodiment of truly bad ideas. “If all goes well, we’ll find Gertrude’s explosives.”

“Explosives?” Tim has not looked this interested in anything in months. “Do you know how to use those?”

Daisy smiles. It is not pleasant.

Tim, on the other hand, seems quite cheered. “I want to be the one to set them off.”

Jon starts to say Don’t be stupid, and stops. “Sure.”

Daisy laughs unpleasantly and finally gives Jon some room.

He’d asked about Basira, about Melanie, and been told to mind his business. Hopefully that was good?

They are all silent the rest of the way.

No one else boards the bus.

“I think we’re being followed,” Jon says softly as he leads the way to Gertrude’s unit.

They assume he knows where it is. He does—but the number wasn’t on the receipt.

“Be weird if we weren’t,” says Tim with false cheer. “Suspicious tails, ravenous worms, big, giant eyeballs—it’s all part of the fun.”

“I don’t see anything,” says Daisy.

“Well, we are,” Jon mutters. “The question is whether you can take them.”

Daisy snorts.

“So what’s following us, then?” says Tim, who has grown more like his old self by the minute. “Can you tell?”

“No,” says Jon. “And that… worries me.”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Man up, Sims.”

“You and I should definitely spend more time together,” Tim tells her.

Maybe Tim just needed to get out of the proverbial house more.

He stops, at last, before a single blue, ribbed-metal door in a hallway full of them. “This one.”

Daisy gets into this as quickly as she did the front entrance, and they all go inside.

“What a mess,” says Tim with terrible cheer.

“Well, you know Gertrude,” Jon mutters. “Anything worth doing is worth completely confusing so no one following you can figure it out.”

“Get to it, already,” says Daisy.

He knows the explosives are in here, but can’t quite pinpoint where.

It suddenly horrifies him to realize that they could have gone off, and innocent people could have died.

“At least she’s consistent in her complete lack of moral center,” he mutters, feeling pale.

“Gods, would you look at this,” says Tim, who has found a stash of paintings and dolls, all with their eyes ripped out.

“Freaky,” says Daisy with appreciation.

“Just don’t… touch any books,” Jon reminds them all, because he wouldn’t put it past Gertrude to have left a few traps behind.

A few moments pass with the sound of tape being peeled, boxes being opened.

“So. China,” prompts Tim.

“What about it?”

“Did you… like it?”

Was Tim actually trying?

Jon stares for a moment, then shrugs. “It was fine, I suppose. I didn’t spend long there before we had to go to Chicago.”

“We? The monster-Michael. You went through those doors, again?”

“Better than thirteen hours in a plane,” Jon mutters.

“Was it, though?”

“Ugh!” Jon says, dropping the absolutely revulsive flap of hide he just pulled out of a box.

There’s not much left. It’s got burn-holes, weird oily stains, and letters in what might be black marker all over it.

“‘This is gorilla skin,’” Tim reads. “Um.”

“She made sure they couldn’t use it for the Unknowing,” says Jon softly. “She didn’t just destroy it. She defaced it, marking it with the name of what it was. I get the feeling that the way she did this meant even if they did use it, no one could look at it without understanding.”

“Wow,” says Tim. “Hardcore Archivist.”

“It’s not always a good thing,” bristles Jon.

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Tim. “Maybe if you were a bit more hardcore—”

“Then I could sacrifice my assistants like she did, or chop people up and throw them in pits like she did, or let the Web control people like she did just because it made her job easy?”

Jon realizes he may have been shouting.

They both stare at him.

Daisy shrugs and goes back to looking. “Whatever works.”

Tim says nothing.

Jon flushes and resumes looking, as well.

A moment passes.

“You’re not saying she did all that,” says Tim.

“She did. And worse.”

“Jon, she was five stone of old woman, soaking wet.”

“And in case Elias’s physique hasn’t made it clear, the longer you’re with the Dread Powers, the stronger you get,” mutters Jon. “Not that it seems to have helped me at all.”

“‘Elias’s physique,’” drawls Tim, turning the words utterly obscene.

“Oh, shut up. You know that’s not what I—”

“Oh,” says Daisy.

They all stare at what she found.

“Is that C4?” Tim is awed.

“Semtex,” says Jon, who has never heard the word before in his life. “General purpose, often used in commercial blasting and demolition. Origin was the Czech Republic, and today, it’s tagged with a distinct vapor signature so it can’t be smuggled places, but this batch was made before 1990, so Dekker was able to—”

“Sims,” Daisy warns.

“It’s emulsifiers all over again,” mutters Tim.

“It is not,” says Jon.

“This is good,” says Daisy. “Dunno if it loses strength over time, but there’s enough here that it shouldn’t matter.”

“It’s still good,” says Jon. “Minimum 20 year shelf life when properly stored between -10 Celsius and… sorry,” he mutters.

“You go, Gertrude,” says Tim, caressing the orange, plastic-wrapped shape.

“Don’t touch it,” says Jon.

“How are we getting this out of here without touching it?” says Tim.

“Empty the other boxes. Hide it,” says Daisy, who seems far too comfortable with the transport of illegal explosives.

“We’ll have to get a cab, or something. I’m not risking this on public transport,” says Jon.

“Are we still being followed?” Tim is suddenly grim. “Because if it comes down to it, and it’s our lives or this, I’m not letting them take this. I’ll fucking die first.”

Not for the first time, Jon desperately wishes the Eye provided glimpses of the future like the Web. “No, you won’t. I’m sure we’re being watched, but I can’t… I can’t quite see by what.” He swallows. “We’re going to have to take our chances. Though, if it’s the Stranger, and they still want this thing, maybe we could….”

They all stare at what’s left of the skin.

“I could use it as bait,” says Jon.

“Like hell,” says Tim.

“What? It makes sense! With these explosives, you’ll have what you need,” says Jon. “Get this safely to the Institute, and you can figure the rest out from there.”

“You know, boss,” says Tim. “I know I’m along as a spare, but I didn't really think I’d be here just to keep you from doing something impossibly stupid.”

“Tim!” Jon starts.

Tim gets right in his face. “Try it. I’ve got no problem cramming you in one of these boxes, if I have to.”

Jon makes one small, shocked sound of protest.

Daisy laughs.

Jon is meek as he tells them where to find the closest wheeled cart and does not argue any more.

They are unaccosted as they leave, as they use Tim’s phone to summon a rideshare (Jon curses as he remembers he forgot to replace his phone. Again).

Happily, the driver gets out to help with the boxes. He’s quite strong, and something about him nags at Jon’s mind, but he can’t see what it is. The man is huge; at least six foot seven. Olive skin, close-cropped hair. Possibly Samoan. He is apparently immune to the cold, wearing a tank top and unbuttoned shirt.

Jon’s focus slides off him. He almost forgets to try looking again.

“Really haven’t had a phone for days now?” says Tim, loading the last of the boxes and looking around.

“I’ve had a lot to keep me occupied, all right?” says Jon, peering hard, deeply disturbed that he cannot, for the life of him, know what is following them. They’re not far, whatever they are.

He even has a general idea of location—but that location, in his mind, is empty. He can’t see it at all.

He doesn’t see darkness. He sees nothing. There is a difference.

Jon discovers that Daisy and Tim have taken the back seat, and reluctantly scoots into the front. “Go, please.”

The driver goes.

“Magnus Institute, eh?” he says in a thick, vaguely Mediterranean accent, unbothered by their sketchiness. “That is a very weird place.” And he laughs.

Something about him makes Jon deeply nervous. “It… it has its perks,” he says, distracted, and finds his attention sliding away from the man again to check the mirrors instead.

They are being followed.

It’s a shock because he can see the car in the mirror. He can’t see the car with his mind.

He strains, reaching, trying to know what’s in the vehicle tailing them, but it does not work. The person driving it might as well be invisible.

There is nothing back there, says the Eye without words.

I SEE it right there! insists Jon.

Nothing at all, says the Eye, and if it were human, it would have used a wink emoji.

“Utterly useless,” Jon mutters.

“So why do you work there, then?” says the driver with good cheer. “There must be better places to make your living, yes?”

Tim has noticed the tail. He keeps whispering, pointing. Daisy shakes her head, oddly unfocused.

Slowly, Jon turns to the driver. “I didn’t say I worked there.”

The man grins. One of his teeth is gold.

And suddenly, Jon knows. “Mikaele Salesa,” he whispers.

“Huh.” Salesa eyes him sidelong. “Not bad, not bad. Not to worry, I am on your side,” he says congenially, and pats the steering wheel. “I have what you need today, Mister Archivist and friends.”

Jon grips the seat so hard he feels his fingers might pierce through it. “How did you know we were here? What do you have that you think we need? Why would you show up now? Do you know everyone thinks you’re dead?”

Salesa looks slightly dazed. “Told you would be. An object you will want to buy. Told I should come. Yes.” He shakes himself, sighs, then shrugs. “Well, she warned me. I thought I was prepared.” He glances at Jon. “You shouldn’t be able to do that, little Eye.”

Jon feels like his hair is rising on end. “I’m going to do it significantly more if you don’t answer my questions properly.”

Salesa opens his mouth, glances in the rear-view-mirror, and then, madly, spins around in the driver’s seat to yell. “No!” he says. “Bad dog. Put that away!”

Jon almost grabs for the wheel, panic driving him while nothing drives the car, but their path has not altered. The car takes a turn without Salesa controlling it, braking itself adequately and even using its blinker.

“What?” Jon says, then glances back.

Daisy has produced a gun. She looks oddly caught.

“The one behind us is with me,” says Salesa. “She’s making sure nothing else follows you home.” He turns back around, shaking his head.

His hands are rough, broad, strong-looking. Jon is afraid.

He peers back again, but the car trailing them is just far enough away that he can tell nothing more than that the driver is female-presenting with dark brown skin.

Daisy and Tim are muttering again, mutinous.

“I don’t understand,” says Jon.

Salesa waves his hand. “Well, that is why I am here. If we don’t do this, nobody knows anything ever again, eh?”

“You know about the Stranger’s ritual?”

“Since before you were born,” Salesa says with another big smile. “You are younger than you look.”

Jon hunches and decides he has had too much good luck today. The universe had to balance it all out. “If you know so much, why are you only coming to help now?”

“Because Annabelle says it is the right time for you,” says Salesa with great, rasping cheer.

Jon gasps. “Annabelle Cane? She’s Web! Don’t you know she’s Web?”

Utterly deadpan, Salesa says, “Nooo, I assumed the thread holding her head together was from some kind of knitting accident.”

Jon stares at him. He did not know this detail.

He pictures spiders crawling out of her cranium and begins to shake.

“There, there,” says Salesa. “Do not worry, little Eye. So she is Web, so what? What do you expect me to do about it? Expect anyone to do about it? Nothing, that’s what we can do, so no use letting it bother. You just feed them with fear, if you do.”

Jon swallows noisily.

Salesa gives him a pitying look, then flicks on the radio so Jon doesn’t have to reply.

A baritone sings to his heartbroken son that he’ll find peace once he returns to the family home in Provence. Trembling, Jon understands it, though it’s Italian, and hunches further in his seat as the Eye feeds him unwanted facts about Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi.

He considers leaping out of the car, trying to roll to freedom like someone in an ill-budgeted show. But, of course, that is foolish; he’d be directly in Annabelle’s path, for one, and can easily see her running him over, then placing Mister Spider on his chest like a white lily.

And he’d be leaving Tim and Daisy behind. So that was out.

“There we go,” says Salesa, easily finding the delivery entrance behind the antiquated building, and Jon recalls he’s been here before.

Bought and sold cursed items via the Magnus Institute, in fact.

He wonders if Elias knows him, or if Salesa was before his time, during James Wright’s.

“Now, we wait,” says Salesa expansively.

Jon spins, but Annabelle Cane does not drive in behind them. They are not boxed in, trapped, doomed. “Wait for what?” he asks, too late.

Looking absolutely smug as hell, Salesa nods toward the service entrance.

Rosie is walking out, pushing a large, wheeled cart, and looking mildly confused. She spots them and hurries over, cart banging along on the asphalt.

Of course, Elias sent her—before, in fact, they had reached the parking lot at all.

Jon keeps looking around as they load the cart. Where is Annabelle? It’s like waiting in a mousetrap that won’t trigger, he thinks, his heart in his throat.

Tim commandeers the cart once it’s loaded, only paling a little at every bump it rolls across. He keeps glancing with concern at Daisy.

Daisy is unfocused as she walks. It’s like she’s gone into sleep mode. She doesn’t seem aware of Salesa or Annabelle at all; dazed, she climbs the stairs and heads inside.

Tim finagles the loading platform; the explosives are inside without an issue.

Then Jon is standing on that loading dock, looking around, twitchy as a spooked colt. He startles at every sound, jumping so many times that Salesa finally sighs.

“Do you drink caffeine?” says Salesa, towering over Jon, but not looming at him, not crowding him, walking near but not alongside. He keeps his rough hands in his pockets; maybe he noticed Jon afraid of them.

“I, ah. Yes.”

“You might want to give it up? You’re making me jumpy,” Salesa lies outright, then grins at him.

“What do you have on you, that I can’t see you clearly?” Jon says. “And did you do something to Daisy?”

Salesa points at his bracelet—it’s blackened metal, links in the shape of Greek crosses. Looking at it makes Jon’s vision swim. “Toys. Very good ones—though you shouldn’t be able to see me at all,” says Salesa, “nor compel me to answer your questions—but!” He claps his hands. “Here we are! I like surprises. It’s okay, little Eye.”

“Don’t call me that. It’s… unpleasant,” says Jon.

That amuses Salesa. “Sure, sure. Archivist.”

“You could just say Jon,” he mutters.

“But we both know that would not be accurate,” Salesa rumbles, low.

Jon says nothing.

He glances around one more time, but Annabelle has not made an appearance.

He has to wonder why.

This would have been the perfect chance. Salesa could have forced something, driven them into a wall, anything. She could have followed them here, trapped them, sidled right on over and dropped Mister Spider in his lap.

Instead, she’d disappeared. Why?

Tim yanks Jon inside and slams the door. “It’s like you want to get kidnapped again.”

“No, I… no! Of course not!”

Tim steers him toward the elevator, and Jon balks. “No,” he says. “No enclosed spaces right now.”

“Fine,” says Tim with an eye roll, and redirects for the stairs.

The cart sits there in the lobby, weirdly innocent for such a drastic final solution. Rosie has already gone. Jon thinks she has no idea what she just helped to ferry inside.

Jon’s not sure he feels great about having plastic explosives sitting around in his archives, except that it might make Elias nervous, and that thought, in itself, is lovely.

Speak of the devil—

“Long time, no see!” Salesa bellows, smacking Elias on the back more times than necessary.

Jon balks. Tim gives up a bad job and goes on without him.

“I would have appreciated some warning, Mikaele,” Elias says, only half-stern. “We could have had visitors in the library. We could have had students.”

“Yes, yes, people you do not want me to influence—assuming I have not already done so! Ha!”

Elias sighs, then finally meets Jon’s gaze.

Happy thoughts of frightened Elias go right out the window. Oh, he is mad.

Good, thinks Jon, swallowing hard, and puts his sweating hands in his pockets. That’s what he gets for… being… all of that.

“Jon,” says Elias.

Very mad, amends Jon. “What?”

That little snip of attitude seemed to be the proverbial straw.

Elias’s eyes widen.

For one moment, just one, they blaze; then he tucks it away with a self-control Jon cannot begin to fathom and goes to inspect the cart. “Martin found blueprints,” he says, peering closely. “I think, with a little planning, this all might work.”

“You’re being awfully helpful, all of a sudden,” Jon challenges.

“Ah, do not look the gift horse in its mouth,” Salesa says. “He does not get his hands dirty, this one! Take it for what it is.”

“I would, if I knew what it was,” Jon mutters, all too aware of Elias staring at him. “And he does get them dirty. For your information.”

Salesa raises his eyebrows at Jon in a vaguely raunchy look that Jon cannot interpret.

Daisy has taken a seat on a bench, and has not moved. She’s looking at nothing.

Jon frowns. “Salesa, whatever you’re doing to her, it’s time to stop.”

“No, no, I like my throat where it is,” he says. “Once I go, she will be okay. But I can do another thing for you. Come here—come here, come here.” He’s backing away, into the closed library, into the shadows, beckoning.

He looks like some kind of giant, wicked elf.

Jon glances at Elias.

Elias is unreadable. Stone.

Jon follows Salesa.

Salesa stands in the darkness, framed between floor-to-ceiling shelves, holding something in his hand. “This is for you. Now—it costs a lot of money, and I know you do not have that much.”

“I don’t even know what you’re holding, or if I’d want it,” says Jon, tersely.

“A one-way trip.”

Jon waits.

Salesa sighs. “I do not know all the details, but I know this: you need to go to the Dark, yes? This will take you there.”

He is holding a small, glass sphere. In it swirls some kind of shadow, a viscous looking fog, impossibly deep for the size of the sphere.

Jon stares. Looks up at him. “Annabelle Cane… said to give this to me?”

He shrugs. “It will not break until you wish to break it. Ah! But I require payment.”

“I hardly have the kind of money you traffic in,” says Jon primly.

“One pound.”

Jon gives him a dry look.

“And.” Salesa holds up his finger. “Protection.”

Jon laughs. “Protection? Are you joking?”

“Annabelle says you will be able to do just this. Soon.”

This was getting worse by the moment. “Does Annabelle say anything else? What’s with you two, anyway? Why are you being her messenger?” He squints.

He sees no webs on Mikaele Salesa.

“Because I have been waiting for a long time,” Salesa says. “The world grows bigger, people are more everywhere, fear gets worse… it’s only a matter of time until one of them wins, and one of the rituals succeeds. And when that happens, you,” he pokes Jon’s chest, ignoring Jon’s little hey of protest, “will be one of the chosen people. I want you to protect me.”

Jon sighs and rubs his face. “I think she’s ripping you off.”

Salesa, uncharacteristically, says nothing.

“One,” says Jon. “I’m going to stop any rituals I can, until I die. So that cuts me off as your… whatever, doubly. And two, I can’t protect anyone. Not even myself. I can’t do anything.” He doesn’t mention Mustermann. It feels more and more like a one-off, given all that’s happened since. “I… I do need that. I do. But I won’t… trade you something I can’t promise in exchange for it.”

Salesa shrugs and tucks it into his jacket. “Suit yourself. Well, that’s all I do here. Have fun with your explosives.”

“That’s it? You’re done?”

“It is all I was asked to do.” He shrugs expansively. “Unless you all want to go out for dinner, maybe? Being officially dead, I… do not have much social life. Indian? My treat?”

Jon is saved from replying to this surreal invitation by Elias, who grips his shoulder too tightly. “No, I think not. Thank you, Mikaele.”

“Don’t make yourself… a stranger,” says Salesa, and belly-laughs his way right out the service door.

Elias has not released Jon’s shoulder.

Jon yanks away. “We were fine.”

“With help from a disreputable dealer and an agent of the Web. I’m so proud,” says Elias.

“One of us is determined to stop the Unknowing at any cost,” Jon snaps.

“Not. You.” In the shadows, Elias’s gray eyes are black, menacing. “You are not an acceptable cost.”

Jon throws up his arms. “If they win, I’m dead, anyway! Or haven’t you figured out that there is a target practically carved into my back?”

Before the final words are out of his mouth, Jon knows something is off.

He feels Elias thinking something, something huge, an iceberg of a thing that threatens to derail… Jon isn’t sure what, but it feels like everything, the foundation trembling, the world’s very soul shaken by this one unknown thing.

Then Elias sighs, pinches his nose, and the iceberg disappears. “Let’s get this taken care of and go home. Sarcasm aside, I am relieved you turned down his incredibly foolish offer.”

So that’s why Salesa suddenly went quiet, Jon thinks, wondering just what kind of death-look Elias was shooting over his head.

“It wouldn’t do me any good,” Jon snaps. “I may be… desperate. Approaching the Unknowing. But that doesn’t mean just… throwing my life away.”

Elias studies him again.

It is a deeply pensive look. Considering. A decision-making kind of look.

Jon is unnerved. “Let’s get the... The things stored.”

“Yes,” says Elias, not losing that look, and escorts him to the stair.

Everyone goes home.

Elias locks up.

Jon gets into the car, feeling a little like he’s walking into a dragon’s den, but he’s so tired.

Just so tired.

A hotel? Sure. But it would mean alone. Somebody or something would come after him.

At Elias’, there is only Elias to deal with, and maybe the Web.

Anywhere else, and he’s apparently dealing with walk-ins from the Web, the Stranger, the Vast, the Desolation, the Flesh, and fucking Death itself.

(But not the Spiral, because Elias locked Michael away.)

He puts his face in his hands.

“I am afraid I failed to grab more statements on our way out,” says Elias, who may or may not be sincere. “I do have a few saved at the house, for emergencies.”

“For… you?”

“No, Jon. For you.”

Jon groans. “You expected me to lose all other options for housing?”

“I knew the time would come that you’d come to me,” Elias says like spiked hot chocolate.

Jon rolls his eyes and looks out the window.

Elias sighs. “You do make it difficult, some days.”

“More than some, I think,” Jon mutters.

He can hear the smile in Elias’s voice. “Perhaps. But I… don’t mind that as much as you might think. I am going to tell you something, Jon. The people I have counted as friends are the ones who could hold their own against me. Rather consistently.”

“So not me, then.”

“On the contrary.” Elias signals, turns. They’re on his street. His tone has gone warm and rich. “While there are times I consider some… unorthodox methods for shutting you up—”

Jon snorts, thinking tongue mutilation, ropes, unconsciousness—

Elias sighs again. “No, Jon. None of that.”

“Stop looking.”

“I can’t. You are projecting very loudly.”

Jon hunches in his seat. He is still there, barely peeking over the window, goblined, when they arrive.

Somehow, Elias gets to his door before he’s even fully unbuckled. “Come on,” he says, almost gently, and offers his hand.

Jon eyes him. “What is this?”

“Congeniality,” says Elias with such exaggeration that it wrings a laugh from Jon.

“Fine, fine,” he says, but does not reach for Elias’ hand.

Elias takes his left hand, anyway. “You are so stubborn,” Elias says, almost to himself, and slides his thumb across the back of Jon’s knuckles.

Jon feels it. Stares at him, brow knit. Could Elias be…

He has to be reading this wrong.

He tugs.

Elias doesn’t let go.

“Give me my hand back,” says Jon.

“Get out of the car, and I will,” says Elias, transactional, which is a function Jon understands.

So he lets Elias help him out of the car.

Elias lifts him smoothly as if he weighs nothing, and pulls him close, too close for propriety, still looking at him like he did at the Institute.

Jon tries to back away.

Elias puts both hands on either side of him, on the car, caging him in. “I know you’re an intelligent man, Jon,” he says, low. “What do I have to do to get through to you? Do I need to cut you? Is that what it takes?”

“Wh… what?” says Jon, starting to panic.

Elias kisses him.

If Jon had bet money—any money—in a million years of time, he would not have predicted it.

It's a good kiss.

Elias is slow about it; not invasive (but it is), eyes closed, and does not pull away for a long moment, long enough that Jon feels… something, strange and surprising, a rising urge to reciprocate.

Jon doesn’t do it, but… he wants to.

Elias holds Jon’s shocked gaze. “You really didn’t know how I feel, did you?”

Jon feels like an hour passes before he knows what to say, on this cold winter’s night, under a city-dark sky, in Elias’ fancy driveway. “What?” is all he manages.

Elias laughs softly. “Come inside, Jon. You’re trembling.”

“It’s cold,” Jon snaps.

Elias puts his hand on the small of Jon’s back and steers him through the small gate, across the courtyard, through the massive front door.

That hand didn’t bother him before. Well, it did; but not like this. Not like this.

Jon isn’t sure why he goes. But pushing against Elias… it always takes more than he has, than anybody has, and he doesn’t know why.

Elias holds Jon’s eyes as he takes off his coat, unblinking as he disrobes the tiniest bit, steady.

Jon is backed against the wall, staring at him.

“Come, now, Jon,” Elias rumbles, low. “I may not be quite as hideous as your favorite monster, but surely I’m not that terrible.”

That’s two references, and Jon clings it as the only framework that makes sense. “You’re jealous. You’re doing this because you’re jealous. Of a concept.”

“In part,” Elias confesses without hesitation, toeing off his shoes and somehow making it utterly lascivious. “Let us just say that I had… discounted the possibility, regardless of my own desires, because you clearly were not interested.” Lower, eyes lidded. “But then it turns out you weren’t nearly as disinterested as you projected.”

Jon stares. That feels wrong, incorrect. Is it, though? “So you… proposition me because… a monster did it first?”

“Is that so shocking?” Elias looks almost wounded. “I respected your boundaries, Jon. Even now, if you want to say no, even if you wish for… some other accommodations, I will make it work. Michael, of course, did not do that. You are not shy about your disinterest in sex, but the Distortion did not care, and—to my surprise—elicited a response from you by pushing those boundaries, by forcing its way in.” He smiles. It is a terrible expression, secretive and sweet and very, very dark. “I found that I… wondered.”

“Wondered?” Jon blurts, thinking, that isn’t it, and that’s not why it was appealing, and I don’t KNOW what it was but it’s not that.

“If you simply needed to be shown what you wanted.”

And Elias actively pushes things into Jon’s head.

It doesn’t penetrate very well. Whatever Jon is becoming, he has some resistance; but there is a sense of sensation, of hot breath in secret places, of lips doing things he’s never imagined lips could do.

Jon gasps unevenly, his body responding like Elias hooked him into some kind of current.

It is so damn frustrating. Hard to think. Things he knows (like not trusting Elias at all, for one) fall away into the background like forgotten dreams, colorless and flat.

“I am not going to force you, Jon,” Elias says. “I won’t even swear to kill you at some random point in the future. This is an entirely separate offer.”

“Except you keep bringing it up,” says Jon, who wishes he’d stop feeling Elias’s imagined fingertips, wishes his circulation wouldn’t work quite so well just this second.

“Of course I do. I’m insulted. Offended.” Elias’s eyes lid. “I am jealous of a monster. I should have said something a long time ago. This is on me, Jon. I take full responsibility.”

Jon stares.

“Let me touch you,” Elias says. “I require nothing in return. This is not a trade; this is not a trick. There are no strings attached, of any sort—yes, you can look. No webs here, Jon.”

Jon does look.

There are no webs on Elias Bouchard.

“Why?” says Jon. “Just… because something else offered first?”

“Because this is something I want," Elias says. "You are my type, if you want complete honesty. I have respected your wishes for years, but now, though… I wonder if you even know what your wishes are.”

Is that a valid thing to say?

Jon was surprised after Michael, surprised by sexual desire; and now, here Elias was, making him feel so many things.

Was this the same? It wasn’t. Did that make it bad?

He didn’t know. Elias had pressed some button in him, flipped some switch, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. How was Jon supposed to respond to this?

(Isn’t this good? Isn’t this what he’s supposed to have? Human affection?)

(Elias, at least, wasn’t trapping people inside himself to slowly go mad from fear and doubt—)

He doesn’t notice Elias moving.

Suddenly, Elias is right there, catching his arms and holding his wrists overhead. “I’m sorry to have made this hard on you,” he whispers, and his gray eyes are like the sky, deep and eternal and frightening. “I have always loved a man with fight, Jon—someone who could stand toe-to-toe with me, who could pin me…” He brushes Jon’s lips with his. “Not just be pinned. I meant it all.”

“Except for the whole… except for… the… everything you just said,” gasps Jon.

“Very eloquent.” Elias kisses him again.

Elias has to be doing something to him. Jon has kissed people. Yes, he only had a relationship with Georgie, but he’s kissed loads of people (six). He tried in uni, tried to find the well of gravity everyone he knew seemed to revolve around, but it never worked.

This is working. Too well.

He wants to respond. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting, but he does not otherwise move.

“We are united in more than mere attraction, you know,” Elias murmurs, and his hips are pressing against Jon’s now, and that feels warm, and firm, and mesmerizing. “Our patron… can’t you feel how it feeds? How it wants what we are doing—our sensation, doubled, tripled, quadrupled back and forth, through your senses and mine, again and again until it grows, expands, reaches an echoing peak of worship and pleasure—can’t you feel it watching?”

And that should be the creepiest fucking thing that anyone has ever said.

But it’s not.

Jon makes a small sound as Elias presses harder.

He wants more.

He wants to press back, to grind. To… he’s not sure (should have watched some porn, he thinks vaguely, though it had always been uninteresting).

Jon turns his head to the side, and now Elias’ lips are on his throat, and oh, this is the very cliff’s edge of resistance.

Would it be so bad?

Doesn't he deserve, maybe, a little something in his life that doesn't feel awful? Some strings-free comfort, just for once?

Except... this isn't what he had with Michael.

Jon recognizes that. That was his own desire, natural, coming from somewhere deep inside himself.

This isn't that. It feels amazing, but it isn't his.

Elias is doing this to him. That adds an edge of true panic.

Jon’s breathing hard. All the blood has gone away from his brain, and that isn’t fair. “Please don’t,” he whispers. “I… it… this wouldn’t be my decision. Right now.”

“I would make you enjoy it,” says Elias against his pulse.

“I know," Jon gasps. "I said no."

Elias stills, hands on his waist, breath hot on his throat. "Why?"

"Because I’m not in my right mind,” snaps Jon. “If you meant a damned word you said, stop.”

Elias stops.

Jon feels utterly bereft as he steps away. It’s like punishment.

Good, he thinks, desperately hoping it will go down, desperately waiting for it to go away, but it is taking its time. Every pulse of his heart seems to feed it, need, need, want, want, and clarity of mind is completely out of his hands.

(He doesn’t want this. He knows. He wants Michael and this is not that. He might as well have been drugged.)

“I’m willing to wait,” says Elias. “Now that you finally get the point.”

Jon looks up. “How long have you been… trying… to tell me this?”

Elias looks almost pitying. “Since the Distortion let you go.”

“It really is just jealousy?” he whispers.

“No. That was simply when I realized I’d been wasting so much time, and depriving us both—especially given the way our patron would most definitely bless this… union.”

As if it’s all very logical, and Jon just needs to catch up.

He wonders if he can go sleep on the castellated roof. It’s cold enough to maybe help with his problem.

“I will wait for you,” says Elias. “Despite our conflicts, I am not a monster.”

“You’re a murderer,” says Jon.

“Did you feel that way when you slew Mustermann?”

Jon feels punched in the gut. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s not the same.”

“No?”

Jon is breathing hard. “He was going to kill me!”

“And Gertrude was going to kill me.”

Oh, no. Oh, no—

“And Leitner, in spite of your brief and fond familiarity, was going to feed you wrong information, hideously and fatally wrong, which would have destroyed your ability to fight the Stranger, to listen to our patron, to build your strength. His entire understanding was outdated by the late 1800s, Jon—but it was so appealing. It sounds so logical. If you’d listened in that tender, vulnerable moment, you would have believed him—and I have no doubt that by now, you would already be dead.”

This doesn’t feel completely true, but it feels truer than Jon likes.

It’s almost all true. Something is missing, but… Jon can’t see it.

(Human. Better.)

(Is it?)

I’m lucky I can think my own name after this, he thinks. “I… I think I’m done for tonight.”

“We haven’t eaten dinner. I’ll behave, if that’s your concern.”

Jon needs to not see him right now. “I don’t want to eat. I need… I…”

Elias looks him up and down, very slowly.

It isn’t a touch. It feels like one, though.

“Do whatever you need to do, Jon,” says Elias. “I will put a plate of leftovers in the refrigerator, in case you decide you are hungry later tonight. All right?”

Is this why he was feeding me? Jon thinks wildly, picturing katydids providing mates with sacks of nutrients including their sperm, picturing robins flirting by vomiting into each other’s mouths.

Elias laughs.

It sounds genuine; feels real. A startled sort of humor. “What on earth, Jon?” he says, shaking his head, and goes into the kitchen.

Jon tries to tell himself to be an adult, to be brave enough to go into the kitchen and just eat dinner like a person.

He flees to the guest room instead.

He does not slam the door.

(part eleven)

#tma #the magnus archives #fanfic #fic #tma fic #tma fanfic #jonathan sims #tma elias #tma salesa #mikaele salesa #elias bouchard #rated m #tw: gaslighting #tw: dubious consent #and eat it too

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters.

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it.

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side.

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.”

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.”

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing.

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes.

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications.

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids).

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed.

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?”

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home.

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much.

The problem is: he only stares at you that way.

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much.

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs.

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him.

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves.

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low.

Second side note: no one ever listens.

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully.

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break.

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist.

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?”

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically.

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset.

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic.

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine.

“You need me, we’re connected.”

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle.

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly.

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook.

three.

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions.

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months.

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily.

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day.

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being.

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners.

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?”

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified.

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior.

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again.

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin.

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head.

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while.

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you.

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that.

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now.

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night.

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape.

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.”

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner.

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth.

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two.

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way.

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.”

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him.

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated.

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class.

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down.

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above.

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face.

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy.

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride.

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks.

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters.

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that.

five.

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know.

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people.

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes.

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!”

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy.

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction.

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again.

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation.

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around.

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.”

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile.

Oh, I’m fucking livid.

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester.

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor.

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes.

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea.

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast.

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin.

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid.

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

“AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.”

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago.

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one.

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain.

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg.

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?”

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically.

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do.

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty.

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath.

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..”

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops.

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person.

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders.

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her.

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors.

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?”

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all.

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead.

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already.

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard.

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain.

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite.

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school.

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner.

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?”

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off.

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent.

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest.

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!”

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things.

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage.

Felix doesn’t even drink.

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out.

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically.

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice.

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously.

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively.

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water.

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now.

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain.

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you.

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head.

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate.

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing.

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice.

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended.

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear.

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall.

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned.

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically.

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately.

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning.

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?”

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever.

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while.

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic.

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all.

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow.

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call.

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend.

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home.

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prioritysope · 3 years

Text

Cheating

Reader: Female

Character: Oikawa Tooru

Rating: Explicit

Chapter: 0/24

I also posted this on my Archive Of Our Own and Wattpad account if you prefer reading it on there instead.

spotify playlist: cheating | music playlist

Table of Contents

Chapters 23/24 (without the prologue and epilogue)

Chapter one: AGAIN

Chapter two: SIT ON MY FACE (NSFW, +18)

Chapter three: SUSPICION

Chapter four: SPICY DATE (NSFW, +18)

Chapter five: THINGS NEVER CHANGE

Chapter six: REVELATION

Chapter seven: FIGHT

Chapter eight: TAKE IT OFF (NSFW, +18)

Chapter nine: FIRST DATE

Chapter ten: SCARLETT

Chapter eleven: FIGHT

Chapter twelve: SLOW

Chapter thirteen: ALL MINE (NSFW, +18)

Chapter fourteen: RUMOR

Chapter fifteen: GIRLFRIEND

Chapter sixteen: KARMA

Chapter seventeen: WOULD YOU BE MY PROM DATE?

Chapter eighteen: NEW FRIENDS

Chapter nineteen: GIRL’S NIGHT

Chapter twenty: NON-STOP (NSFW, +18)

Chapter twenty one: BAD NEWS

Chapter twenty two: PROM NIGHT

Chapter twenty three: FREAKY NIGHT (NSFW, +18)

Chapter twenty four: LAST DAY IN JAPAN

Epilogue: ARGENTINA

They were in a party right after the Aoba Johsai vs Karasuno game wich they won. Everything changed when a random guy came to her on the dance floor, trying to stick to her body to the beat. Although she always tried to push him, until her boyfriend came and grabbed him by the shirt.

"Don't you understand that she doesn't want to dance with you, buddy?" He muttered angrily. His jaw was clenched, not releasing the boy from his grip.

"In that case, shouldn't you tell your slutty girl not to wear such provocative clothes?" The guy commented with a wicked smile appearing on his lips.

That comment was what broke Hajime's patience and he didn't wait to land the first blow at the boy's face. A couple of people around her were beginning to realize the scene that she knew must stop, or it would get worse.

"Hajime! Please stop, babe." She screamed over the music as she grabbed her boyfriend's arm, trying to pull him up; clearly failing.

"Get the fuck out, bitch!" Iwaizumi yelled at her, pushing her aside in a somewhat brusque way, falling to the ground.

Gaby was desperate and surprised by the way he called her. At that time she didn't know how to separate them from their stupid fight. She looked around carefully, looking for someone from the volleyball team and could see Oikawa from afar. She beckoned him from where she stood until he came closer, understanding what she needed. Tooru took Hajime by the arms, already stopping in less than a rooster crowing, this embarrassing scene. Iwaizumi began to claim why not let him break that boy's face. However, he has not spoken to Gaby at any time until they got to their house.

"Iwa, baby, you haven't spoken to me since the party. Are you so upset?" She whispered as she approached her boyfriend. You could still see how angry he was from his facial expressions. "You don't have to worry, my love. I am not offended by what he..." Iwaizumi cut her off.

Iwaizumi and Gaby had been fighting over something totally stupid for a long time, according to her. This is not her first fight because of how she dresses. Fights are almost always because of his jealousy, no matter why. All the blame falls on her, no matter who started it all.

"It offends me because what it says is true." He said, now looking at her. You dress like a prostitute and that is why everyone approaches you. His hand was captured on Gaby's face, in a strong slap. "Shit...baby. You know it was not my intention, forgive me."

Hajime tried to get closer to her, but she pushed him away. This was the third time he had laid a hand on her; however, she always ended up forgiving him. She knew within herself that it was wrong and that the relationship was getting totally toxic. Even their best friend, Oikawa Tooru, has tried to talk to both of them. Without giving any result. Until Oikawa once admitted that he has feelings for her. Gaby took one last look at Iwaizumi, then grabbed her cell phone and her car keys, and thus left the apartment she had shared with him since they started dating.

Gaby started her car and headed for the Oikawa apartment. He was the only person I could count on. During that time, she remembered the proposal he made to her.

"Just think about it, little cutie. You don't feel happy with Iwa-chan anymore, right?" He had that flirtatious smile that characterizes him. She was just sitting next to him while they waited for her boyfriend who was taking a shower after his practice. "We will only have sex. I know I told you that I like you, but I can hide those feelings so you don't feel uncomfortable.

"I don't know, Tooru. What if he finds out?" She was really considering that proposal. "Let me think about it, okay?

She was already sick of all that toxicity from their relationship. She believes that Oikawa's proposal is the solution or until she knows how to end her relationship with Iwaizumi. Maybe it was wrong, but she couldn't take it anymore. What could possibly go wrong with having sex with your best best after every fight with your boyfriend? There would be no feelings involved. Just two friends pleasuring and enjoying each other. In addition to distracting from the shit that she currently lives with.

Toc. Toc. Toc.

Three knocks on the door were enough to have Oikawa opening the door. His face showed surprise to see her there, but his expression changed quickly when Tooru saw her face somewhat reddish from Hajime's slap, the dry tears on her cheeks and her eyes red from crying so much.

“Again? God, little cutie. I'm so sorry.” He said softly, taking her by the hands to make her enter and hold her tightly against his chest.

“I accept your proposal, Shittykawa. And don't make me repeat it.” she murmured against his chest as her face flushed with shame. “Just promise me this. No feelings, okay?”

Oikawa smiled at the shorter's words. “I promise, little cutie.”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#oikawa x oc #oikawa fanfiction #oikawa smut #oikawa fluff

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Promise

Anthony (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Death scenes, Grief, Housefire, Angst, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: Sneaked glances and pass-by smiles are often times the start of the most beautiful of love stories. Sadly, many of those stories end too quickly, too soon for the souls in love to be able to enjoy them. This is the story of Y/N and Anthony. The love story that started with a promise and ended in flames.

Requested by @niksoiio Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I apologize for taking so long, but here it finally is! I know how excited you were for this fic, so I hope it fulfills your expectations and doesn’t let you down! Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Never is a love story as pure as one long awaited to commence. The souls patiently waiting to intertwine, the emotions dying to shine through more than just glances and secret smiles. Feelings to mix, collide and dance together, creating a symphony of a lifetime. The symphony of love that lives beyond the end of the very souls that sparked it.

This is a love story, a story of loss, and a clear example, proof that a love simply doesn’t die. It’s an everlasting flame - burning brighter than the one that attempted to destroy it.

~~~

“You seem restless tonight.“ Anthony walks into the living room, placing a cup of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of Y/N who’s reading the back cover of the book he has been keeping himself busy with lately.

Y/N has been Tanya’s friend since they met in middle school. When their friendship carried over into high school, that’s when her and Tanya’s adoptive brother Anthony met. They instantly became friends, sharing their love for thrillers and murder mysteries, similar taste in music and relatively similar personalities - the quiet peacemakers. The lovers, not fighters. Well, not fighters unless necessary. They are both protectors with many people they care about and would do anything to keep them safe. The two of them are pretty similar that way.

Very compatible, as some would say. Tanya being the first to notice the connection between two of the closest people in her life. Knowing the shyness of the two and their self-doubt, she chose not to speak up about it until spoken to, expecting them to take ages to finally see what’s been going on between them. Guess she wasn’t far from the truth.

On this night Y/N and Tanya were supposed to spend their time studying together for the last exam of the semester before Christmas break began. They have agreed to meet at the Clarke house at six PM in the afternoon which has long passed and Tanya is still yet to return from the date she went on with her boyfriend Vince. She promised Y/N she’d make it home by six, but now it’s eight and there’s no sign of her whatsoever. A snowstorm started slowly taking over the town approximately two hours ago, probably the reason behind her friend’s absence, but to Y/N’s dismay, also the reason she’d have to spend the night at the Clarke household because her parents wouldn’t be able to collect her in this weather, especially not with the run-down car they drive.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She nods in gratitude at the boy who sits down on the couch next to her as she takes the mug containing the hot beverage with as firm of a grip as she can muster with her shaky hands.

She has indeed been restless since she arrived. Walking into the house, apart from Anthony who had let her in, the first person she saw was the youngest member of the family - Megan. The little girl has never done anything to her in particular, but there has always been something about her that has unnerved Y/N. Something in her eyes and demeanor, how empty and hollow her gaze was, almost like she was looking through people and objects instead of at them. The smile she sent her as a greeting sent chills down her spine, leaving her hands and knees shaky and her body jittery as if the house was colder than the outdoors. The thought that she’d have to sleep in this house made her stomach clench with discomfort, a sickening feeling of wrong taking over her mind and body.

“Maybe it’s the exam. You know, if Tanya doesn’t make it, I can help you. It’s not a difficult subject, after all.“ Anthony attempts to reassure her, giving her a sympathetic look as he takes a sip of his own cup.

She gives him a soft smile and another nod of appreciation for his offer, “No, it’s not that. Or at least I think it isn’t. Exams don’t make me nervous until after I’ve finished them, if that makes sense.” She giggles weakly, basking in the warmth of the porcelain cup in her ice cold hands. It doesn’t have much of an effect though - instead of warming up her skin, her hands are basically cooling the drink and she still feels as tense and endangered as ever. “But a study partner could be pretty useful, thank you.”

After finishing the rather disappointing movie they found on TV as well as their drinks, they make their way to Anthony’s room to actually get some studying done because, judging by the nearing of nine PM and the constant lack of her friend, she wouldn’t be returning on time. Anne attempts to offer them before they go, an offer which they turn down in favor of making the most of the time they have left before their brains would require rest for the day.

“You see, I get that it’s far less complicated than it seems, but I’m terrible at paying attention in classes, let alone at taking notes.“ Y/N admits while they take a short ten minute break between note-reading and revising the chapters they’ll have an exam on the following day.

Anthony’s eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that? I mean, the professor isn’t boring. Not to me, at least.“

She shakes her head, “No, no, far from it. The rare time’s I’ve managed to focus I quite enjoyed the lectures. But I tend to get too stuck inside my head to hear anything else. My brain gets overwhelmed by the future, by what’s gonna happen five minutes, five days or maybe even five years from the present moment. I sometimes get so lost in those thoughts that I end up...this is gonna sound weird, but I feel like I end up living them.” Somewhere along the lines she could no longer hold his gaze, embarrassed and afraid of how his opinion of her might change with this newly revealed information.

However, much to her surprise, when her eyes meet his again he’s looking at her with nothing but intrigue and child-like curiosity. No amusement or humor or mocking, just wondering, hoping to find out more. Little does she know, that’s how he always looks at her when she is facing the other way. “That’s so interesting. I guess the real question is: Do the things you imagine ever end up coming true?” It was said with a lighthearted smile with the intention of easing the tension in her, calming her nerves, but he had unintentionally struck a chord.

She nods her head, her eyes widening slightly, “Well that’s the weirdest part - they do. Almost all the time unless I do something to prevent it. It freaks me out every time.” An aura of fear surrounds and inhabits her as her gaze wanders away from his again, this time subconsciously, “It scares me so much, Anthony. I know something’s terribly wrong with me. I’m a freak of nature or...I don’t even know what. I just know it’s bad. And I probably shouldn’t have told you all of this cause you now won’t ever look at me the same, you will avoid me. Call me crazy behind my back. I see why but-...”

Before the petrified girl could continue rambling, Anthony takes hold of her hands, firm and comforting. The sudden, unexpected contact of their hands silences her, freezing her eyes on his as she breathes heavily in hopes to stabilize her rapid heart and far worse shakiness. With his hands holding hers, she feels protected, guarded from whatever the future may hold and from the very fact that she could probably find out if she tried. For once though, she doesn’t feel like she has to. She doesn’t need to see what will happen and prepare, she trusts it won’t be so bad as long as she has this boy holding her by the hands, looking at her with such softness in his green orbs staring back at her.

“But that’s all nonsense, Y/N. I’d never say something behind your back, especially not something meanspirited or ill-willed. You...“ he trails off, hesitating for just a moment longer, deciding against prolonging this grey area his feelings have been locked in for far too long as it is, “You are very important to me, more than you know. I could never see you as anything but amazing, mesmerizing. You’re you, Y/N. And that’s why....“ Hesitation and doubt make one final attempt at beating his courage bloody. Much like last time, they fail and Anthony carries on, “That’s the reason I’ve fallen in love with you, Y/N. Quirks, oddities, they are all beautiful cause they are yours. And I love them cause they make you who you are.“

He has somehow managed to turn the tables on her, leaving her to be the speechless one despite her having just revealed her freaky ‘abilities’ to him. What looks like a fiasco in her mind he’s made seem like a perfectly put together kaleidoscope. Like every piece of her shattered courage and bravery is back in it’s spot. Although he’s somewhat managed to put her together, she’s still a long way from being whole, which is why words have failed her now. She hasn’t felt so complete in so long, and now the final piece missing is that response that just refuses to leave her chest.

Seeing her stunned as she is, Anthony feels the need to apologize, justify his out-of-the-blue confession that startled her so much, “I know I should’ve you sooner, or at least picked a better moment but-...”

It’s her turn to cut him off though her method is much more efficient - silencing him by pressing her lips against his. Though caught off-guard, Anthony is quick to respond to it, kissing her back with the same amount of love she’s put in on her end.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sor- WHOA!“ The two pull apart at the sound of the familiar female voice that has suddenly filled the room. Tanya has picked the worst of moments to be coming home, and she’s more than aware of it. Despite feeling guilty for interrupting her brother and best friend’s moment, she’s also glad she didn’t miss it. After all, she’s been watching the two suffer in silence, pining for each other since the start of their high school freshmen year and even now that they’re in college. They’ve been quiet about their feelings for more than four years and she can’t be happier to finally see the prophecy fulfilled. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for you two to finally succumb to your hearts and turn those lame brains you have off?! Oh this is a relief like no other.” The older girl laughs, pleased with the outcome of four years of looking on at two very important people in her life adoring one another and not saying a word. Needless to say, she’s proud of them.

“Do you know what knocking is, Tanya?“ Anthony is the first to recover from the initial shock of his sister’s appearance.

“Only in theory. Not in practice.“ She replies sarcastically, giving a pleased smile that speaks volumes of how her spirits have been lifted all thanks to them. “I’ll go downstairs, pretend I didn’t see what I saw, make myself a cup of tea to warm up and when I come back I want to see that you two have pulled yourselves together. Your faces are burning red.” She instructs, backing out of the room but not before fixing them a narrow-eyed warning look.

She wasn’t wrong - they are indeed blushing a deep red and all they can do is smile when they look at each other, giggling a tiny bit.

Suddenly, Y/N’s eyes widen as though she has just remembered something of great importance. “Wait.” She mutters, more to herself than to Anthony. Her hand swiftly slides the ring off the middle finger of her left hand and offers it to Anthony, “Here.” The boy takes it hesitantly, turning it between his fingers as gently and cautiously as he can as though the ring would crack if his grip became any firmer. “By taking in, you’re making a statement, a promise. A promise that you won’t change your mind about me...about us by tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or by next week.” She’s unable to look at him yet again, instead focusing on her fidgeting hands rested in her lap.

After a brief moment of contemplating, Anthony hands her back the ring, “I don’t need to make a promise, I know I won’t change my mind. You could look into the future and see for yourself too.” He tells her reassuringly, a sweet smile on his face to show the lightheartedness of what he’s said, afraid it might be offensive to her if he didn’t clarify.

She shakes her head, “For once in my life I don’t want spoilers for the future. I’ll just let it play out. I’ll see it when it happens.” She pushes the ring back to him, “But I still want you to keep this. A reminder, if not a promise. A reminder that I promise to love you for a very long time.”

A warmth spreads throughout his chest, the wholesomeness of the moment having reached to his heart and soul. He curls his fingers over the ring protectively, “Alright, I’ll take it. As a promise that I too promise to love you for even longer.”

The strings of emotion connecting them are slowly being pulled, bringing them closer once again. They both lean in, ready to feel that incredible magic of a love-filled kiss another time.

“Consider this me knocking! My hands are kinda full so just open the door if I can come in!“ Lips less then an inch apart, they’re interrupted by the shout coming from the other side of the bedroom door.

The young pair laugh, accepting that their moment will have to be postponed before Anthony goes to let his sister, who’s carrying a cup of tea and some snacks, in. All Y/N can think about is how much happiness she’s found so unexpectedly, in a place she was all but willing to stay at. Life is full of surprises and unforeseen moments, so many things one can never predict. And even though Y/N can predict them, now she’d rather not. She now understands the importance of surprises in life and she wants to cherish them properly.

* * *

Flames, fear, screams, shouts, cries. All painted on the backs of her eyelids. The mortifying images playing out in front of her jolt her awake.

A nightmare, it’s just a nightmare, she tells herself.

But upon opening her eyes she is met by the misty darkness of the smoke-filled room her and her best friend are currently in.

A nightmare that she could’ve predicted and warned the others about.

“Y/N, get out of the window! I need to find Megan!“ Tanya tells her urgently, ushering her towards the windowsill, “Go! Anthony will catch you!“

Looking down at the snow*covered yard below, she sees Anthony’s figure, motioning for her to jump. She can barely hear him over the ringing and thumping in her head but she trusts him. She believes she’ll be ok if she chooses to rely on him. So, following both his and his sister’s instructions, she jumps, falling into his arms. For a few moments it’s all blank around her and in her head. She wonders if it’s just the feeling of the fall or the fact that she could’ve died so easily. Or maybe the close proximity to Anthony. Either way his whisper wakes her up from the blank trance she has fallen into.

“It’s ok, I got you.“ He steadies Y/N on her shaky feet, taking her head and leading her to the front of the house.

The next few minutes are a show of nothing but horror and pain. Her and Anthony witness it together, unable to do anything but look on as ever member of the Clarke family, one by one, has life escaping their bodies in the most brutal of ways: Tanya and Megan never made it out of the house; Mr. Clarke was caught under the fallen ceiling in the living room and Dennis was the worst, having impaled himself on the fence below the attic window.

They saw it all happen. They couldn’t do anything. Fear-ridden, powerless and helpless, frozen in their spots by the horrifying scenes playing out in front of them. With tears brimming her eyes and blurring her vision and her knees almost completely giving out, Y/N felt a little bit of her die with each member of the family. A large chunk of her died along with them. She can only imagine how Anthony feels.

“Mom...“ The distressed boy mutters, “Mom’s still in there! Mom!“ Before she could stop him, he’s running towards what used to be the front door of the house and into the burning hallway.

Y/N’s heart drops, adrenaline and the primal instinct to save the person she loves kicking in bringing her legs to life, carrying her forward. “Anthony no!” A loud cry of desperation leaves her aching chest.

She too enters the hallway, surrounded by the overwhelming heat that feels like it’s burning her skin off. She doesn’t dwell on that though, instead she lunges forward, hands grabbing at Anthony’s arm with all her might and yanking him back with as much strength as she has left. Thankfully, it’s enough to send the boy stumbling back, falling on the snow out in the yard, falling to safety just in time.

Just when the ceiling in the hallway collapses. Directly on top of Y/N.

Like the last breath had been drawn out of Anthony’s lungs. Like his last hope had just been shredded to pieces.

Like his life ended along with her, his heart severed and plucked out of his chest, thrown into the flames.

He bows his head, uncontrollable cries leaving his body, each feeling like a punch to the gut - oh so painful and oh so dreadful. As though his very soul is draining from his body with each scream of agony. Then he spots the shimmer in the snow, the twinkle in his darkened vision.

The promise ring that had fallen out of his pocket, its smooth, gleaming surface unharmed, reflecting the raging flames in front of him. Its statement, its meaning standing stronger than ever - an everlasting love. A brightly burning flame ignited by two souls so adored by each other. And even though one of the flames that started the fire has been extinguished, the fire of love hasn’t wavered.

The ring is sending him a message:

This is far from the end of his love. Far from the end of hers either. When two souls intertwine the way theirs have, the bond cannot be broken.

* * *

Half a century has passed and Anthony has never missed the day - each year gracing the town of Little Hope with his presence to commemorate his late family and loved one, bringing a flower to each of their graves.

Survivor’s guilt still haunts him. That night’s events still keep him up at night and the images still seep into his dreams. However, now he has a way to cope with it. He writes. He writes in a diary but in such a way that it’s composed of letters. Letters addressed to different members of his family though the majority are love letters for Y/N. He tells her about his day, how he wishes she were by his side, how he whishes they had more time or acted on their feeling sooner.

How he loves her even more now, how they have remained connected.

“Funny how we haven’t run into each other before. Fifty years and this is the first time I’m seeing you here.“ The deep male voice startles him, “I knew we’d run into each other eventually.“

It’s Vince, Tanya’s boyfriend - the person who’s been placing the flowers Anthony find on Tanya’s grave every year. He always assumed it was him, another man forever in love with the soul that is left to linger after its body vanished. Another man chained by a memory, one he wouldn’t escape even if he could. He still loves Tanya, no doubt about it, and he wishes to never stop loving her. Him and Anthony are rather similar that way.

“Though it was you. No one else knows Tanya’s favorite flowers.“ Anthony motions to the bouquet of white flowers in Vince’s hands, “Surprised you’re still here.“ He knows it’s not the wisest thing to say to a man who’s suffering down the same road of guilt and grief - the road only lit by the everlasting love that has remained in his heart as well as Vince’s.

“Surprised you haven’t stopped coming around.“ He replies though they both know what’s insinuated - they understand why neither of them can let go. They’re bound to bodiless souls that reside here. They are both more than determined to stay as close as possible to those souls they are so hopelessly in love with. Vince’s eyes trail down to Anthony’s hand which is holding the bouquet he was going to place on his sister’s grave. He catches the glint of a ring on his finger, “You’re married?”

The promise ring. He’s chosen to wear it in place of a wedding ring. It is not only a way to cope but it’s exactly what him and Y/N agreed on all those years ago - a reminder that they’ll love each other for a very long time. For forever.

“Yes. I’m married.“

He indeed is - to Y/N and the memory of her. To her soul that his will forever be connected to.

@artlovingbre @sparrow-gg @megandaisy9

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pindaleng · 3 years

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Merry Pitchmas @anotherbechloeshipper !!

Had so much fun writing this one, hope you enjoy it :)

Title: In From the Snow

Pairing: Bechloe

Chapters: 1/1

Wordcount: 2943

Summary: Beca didn’t anticipate making many friends her freshman year, much less become best friends with one Chloe Beale. When a snow storm ruins both their plans to travel home, they get to spend some quality time together. Beca thinks this might be her best chance to tell the other girl how she feels.

Read on AO3 or below.

Beca stared gloomily at the large flakes falling outside her dorm window.

There was no way her old Camry would be able drive more than ten miles an hour in these conditions. The forecast said “heavy snow”, but she didn’t realize it’d be this bad.

She totally would have left a few days earlier if she didn’t have a final scheduled for the absolute last day of the semester. It’s not like she was super excited about heading back home either, but she knew her dad and step mom would give her shit for it.

She sighed. Might as well text them now to rip off that band-aid.

Shortly after she sent the message, she heard a knock on her opened door.

“Hey, you’re still here!”

In the doorway stood Chloe Beale, undoubtedly the coolest person on their dorm floor. Beca (to her surprise) got along with most of the people on her floor, but something about Chloe specifically drew her in.

Admittedly, she found the other girl annoying at first, as she seemed like the high school girls that were fake nice just to talk about you behind your back. She soon learned, though, that Chloe was the real deal.

But not of course before giving her a hard time for a couple of months. Frustratingly, but thankfully, Chloe was incredibly persistent. Beca hadn’t really expected to make so many friends, intending to keep her head down and make her way through, but everyone grew on her. Especially Chloe.

“Yeah, unfortunately still here.” Beca replied. “Wanted to drive out today but doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen.”

Chloe invited herself in and hopped onto Beca’s bed. She hummed in understanding. “I just got back from the store and driving was for sure a struggle. Definitely would not recommend.”

“Great. You’re staying here too, then?”

“Yep! Which means you get to spend time with little ol’ me.” She propped her head on her hands. “Any plans for the day?”

There wasn’t really a Plan B since she didn’t expect her driving-back-home Plan A to not work out. “Not really, probably just gonna work on some mixes.”

“Can I join?”

“Yes, please make it a little less sad that I’m stuck here on Christmas Eve.”

“Sweet, I’ll be back.” Chloe slid off the bed and make her way out the room. “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Beca just rolled her eyes and started setting up her laptop.

Chloe came back moments later with her sketchbook and colored pencils, and settled on Beca’s roommate’s bed. Both of them were friends with Stacie, so they knew she wouldn’t mind her bed being used.

They passed time peacefully like this for a couple of hours, each doing their separate thing.

Beca was so engrossed in her music that she doesn’t notice Chloe call out her name until the other girl waved at her to get her attention.

She slipped off her headphones. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking about getting some food soon. You in?”

The hunger hit her stomach now that food was mentioned. “Yeah, I could eat. Where at?” Though the dorms stayed open, dining halls were closed. There were plenty of places nearby though, and many of whom delivered. They went back and forth suggesting restaurants until Chloe looked like she had an epiphany. “We should go to that new ramen place!”

Beca’s immediate reaction was to pout, as they didn’t deliver. Chloe laughed.

“Oh come on, it’s a five minute walk, max. You big baby.” Chloe playfully poked her cheek. “Plus it’s super pretty outside.”

“And it’s super warm inside.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’m going with or without you.”

The ultimatum was effective. Beca grumbled but put her coat on anyways. The reluctance was really just all show, as she would probably walk naked into a freezing lake for the other girl.

Snow was steadily falling outside, blanketing all the surfaces in a thick layer of white. Campus was quiet, as most of the students had already left for the holidays. It was both eerie and calming. The absence of drunk frat guys yelling, though, was definitely a plus.

“Okay I admit, it is pretty outside.” But you’re prettier. The automatic thought was so cheesy she almost threw up a bit in her mouth. Since when did she think such gross things? She could practically see Stacie smirking annoyingly at her.

Chloe grinned in victory, and Beca’s heart swooped.

Her brain definitely wasn’t lying though: Chloe was undoubtedly beautiful. The snowflakes in Chloe’s hair contrasted perfectly with the red color, making her look like some sort of magazine model. It felt kind of unfair that she could exist like that and not know what she was doing to poor Beca’s soul.

—

When the waitress asked if they needed one or two checks, Chloe replied “just one” before Beca could get a word in.

As the waitress walked away, Beca sent a questioning look to the redhead.

Chloe shrugged, “It’s easier for them to just run a single card.” Beca offered to pay her back, but she insisted it to be a holiday present. If Beca didn’t know better, she would have swore it was a date.

They were on their way back to the dorms when Beca felt something hit the back of her head.

She whipped around. “Hey!”

Chloe was already packing another snowball, clearly out for blood. She quickly launched that one too, which Beca barely managed to sidestep. She bent down to create her own snow projectile.

Chloe began to run away to get out of range, so Beca went to chase her. Unfortunately, Beca slipped on the snow and fell. Chloe was immediately at her side. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

The snow cushioned her fall pretty well, but Beca didn’t want to give that away just yet. She faked a grimace. “I think I broke my leg.”

“Oh shit.” Chloe furrowed her eyebrows in worry. “I’m so sorry I-“

Beca felt too bad that she immediately stopped her. “I’m joking, I’m actually fine.”

It took a moment to register, and then Chloe slapped her on the arm. “You scared me!”

Beca rubbed the spot where she was hit. “Ok now I actually have to go to the hospital.”

Chloe just slapped her arm again, before offering a hand to pull her up. Beca took it but didn’t get up. Chloe looked confused as Beca smirked, and then pulled the other girl down into the snow with her. She fell on her face in the fresh snow with a satisfying poof.

“Oh my god, you asshole.” Chloe laughed after pulling her face up, and shoved at the other girl, who was still laying in the snow.

“Chlo you have a beard.” Beca was practically wheezing at the sight of Chloe having snow stuck all over her face. “Still hot though.”

Chloe modeled it, striking poses and getting up to walk down an imaginary runway, while Beca yelled after her, hyping her up.

They messed around in the snow for a while longer, then took the long way back. Beca considered complaining about the cold and wet seeping in, but Chloe just looked so happy. Plus, it really was nice outside. Walking with Chloe in the peace of campus was a moment Beca wanted to keep tucked in her pocket forever.

—

After getting back, they went to take showers (separately) to warm themselves up, deciding to reconvene later in Chloe’s room. Beca sat on her bed with her hair in a towel, scrolling through her phone. She opened a message from Stacie, who was definitely one of her best friends in college so far. She flew out a couple of days ago and told Beca not to “get too freaky” while she was gone. Beca practically shoved her out the door.

Stacie [6:31 pm]: You make it home?

Beca [7:13 pm]: No, stuck here. Stupid snow.

A reply immediately came in.

Stacie [7:13 pm]: Ugh that sucks, are you by yourself then?

Beca hesitated on what exactly to say, knowing Stacie would immediately make fun of her for the truth.

Beca [7:15 pm]: Not exactly…..Chloe is also still here

Stacie [7:16 pm]: !!!!!!!!!!

Stacie [7:16 pm]: BECA

Stacie [7:16 pm]: THIS IS YOUR CHANCE

Beca [7:17 pm]: Dude she doesn’t like me

Stacie [7:18 pm]: Do NOT bother coming back to campus if you don’t shoot your shot right now

Stacie [7:19 pm]: Joking but also not

Stacie [7:19 pm]: She hangs out w you all the time. She actually listens to your music recs. Plz do something.

Stacie [7:20 pm]: Ok talk later family is calling for dinner, good luck!!!!!

Beca [7:21 pm]: ??? I’m going to ignore that you basically implied not listening to any of the music I’ve suggested

She fell back onto her bed. She wanted to make a move, and she did feel like there could be something between them. However, each time Chloe was nice to someone else, she got psyched out believing that Chloe was always just being platonically nice to her. No flirting involved.

With each passing day, though, it became harder to deny she wanted her. And how badly she did. She caught herself staring a bit too long, and hung endlessly on the small touches Chloe would always do. A brush of the finger here, and a hair tucked behind an ear there. Beca thought some days she might explode.

She texted Chloe to ask if she was ready yet.

Chloe [7:25 pm]: Sorry got distracted!! Hopping in the shower now.

With the extra time, Beca decided to finish the mix she was working on earlier that day. There was something off about it that she couldn’t quite figure out, but coming back to it now, she figured out what it was missing. She listened to it a few times to make sure she was really happy with it before mastering it.

A text came in from Chloe, letting her know she could come over whenever.

Beca quickly added the song to a USB which already contained many music files, then placed the drive into a small pink, cardboard box she got from Stacie. The box originally held a necklace, which made it the perfect size for her gift.

She stashed it in her sweater pocket then made her way to Chloe’s room in the other wing of the floor.

It was still relatively early in the night, so Chloe suggested a movie. Beca wasn’t one for movies usually, but it wasn’t like she had any better ideas.

They cuddled together on the small dorm bed in Chloe’s den of pillows, with the laptop in front of them. The movie was actually pretty good, despite all the bad decisions the main character kept making, and the fact that Beca missed half the plot due to glancing at Chloe instead, and being nervous about how close they were.

“Thoughts?” Chloe turned down the volume as the credits began to roll.

“I think she should have gone with the second guy.”

“Really? I thought he was kind of iffy.”

They proceeded have a lively discussion about the movie, with Beca continuing to argue mostly to mess with Chloe, who seemed quite adamant about the main character’s end choice of romantic partner. It ended with Chloe tickling her until Beca finally admitted her defeat.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

Beca looked at Chloe warily, still catching her breath from the tickling attack. “Um, why?”

“Just do it.”

She sighed but did as she was told.

“No peeking!”

Her index finger drew a cross above her heart, signaling her promise to not look.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

In front of her was a piece of paper carefully rolled into a tube and bound with a red bow. Beca picked it up, gingerly untying the ribbon, unraveling her gift. Her jaw dropped.

“Chloe…”

In her hands was a pencil sketch of her with headphones on, smiling and almost on the verge of laughing. Honestly, she never thought about what she looked like while she was happy. The image of herself in her mind was always some version of broody. Is this how Chloe saw her? Beca wasn’t one to usually cry, but she might have teared up a bit.

“This is…incredible.”

Chloe looked kind of nervous. The same way that Beca was protective of showing others her music, Chloe was hesitant to show much of her art. “You like it?”

“Dude I love it. Seriously.” That reassurance seemed to put Chloe at ease. “Okay, your turn to close your eyes.”

Chloe did it without hesitation, and also held out her hands. Beca shook her head a bit in amusement and placed the small box into her palm.

“Okay, open.”

She opened her eyes and lifted the lid of the box to find a black USB drive, with a piece of tape on the side simply labeled “For Chloe”.

Her smile widened as she realized what her present was. “Do I get to finally listen to your music?”

“Maybe.”

“It means a lot, Beca. Thank you.”

“Um yeah, no problem. Don’t tell me if you end up thinking it’s bad.” She joked.

“Oh please, you’re going to have to block me with how many good things I’ll say.”

“Don’t tempt me, I might delete your contact right now.”

Chloe laughed. “Oh please, like you could last a day without me. Also, I actually have another present for you.” She scotched a bit closer to Beca.

“Oh,” Beca furrowed her eyebrows. “Well, I don’t have anything el-“

She was swiftly cut off as Chloe kissed her, soft and sweet. So polite and unassuming it almost felt platonic.

But god did it give Beca butterflies.

Chloe pulled away so quickly that Beca wasn’t sure it even happened. Like maybe she just daydreamed too hard and manifested a hallucination.

She must have had a deer in the headlights look because Chloe suddenly got super shy. “Was that okay?” She whispered, face still close.

Beca finally came to her senses. “Yeah, totally. More than okay. Amazing really.” She must look like a blushing mess.

The corner of Chloe’s mouth quirked up in amusement and relief. “Yeah?”

“Still could be better, though.” Good work Beca, make a joke to regain some semblance of having her shit together.

“Oh?” She watched Chloe lick her lips, a mesmerizing motion. The shyness was all but gone, replaced by something much more confident, and destined to ruin Beca’s life. And she knew she’d welcome it with open arms.

—

Beca woke up in the morning to the light touch of fingers trailing along her jaw. She smiled, remembering where she was, and more importantly, who was besides her. She probably had the best night of sleep in her life. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, Beale?” She asked, keeping her eyes closed.

“Are you going to try and stop me?” Chloe whispered. Her raspy morning voice was really so damn attractive.

She opened one eye, smiling. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.” Chloe leaned in for a long kiss, the hand on her face pulling Beca closer. Her breath hitched. She didn’t think she could ever get used to this. Kissing Chloe Beale. Touching her.

She pulled away all too soon, just as Beca began to want her even more. Beca was quickly learning how much of a tease Chloe was.

“i’m going to get ready, and then maybe we can go get breakfast somewhere?”

“Or…we can stay in bed all day.”

Chloe giggled, and Beca almost professed her love. “Becs, both of us gotta head home.”

“Do we though?”

Chloe just smiled as she slipped out of bed and grabbed her toothbrush and face towel. Before she was completely out the door, she gave her butt a little shake, as if she could tell Beca was staring at her clad in a large t-shirt and sleep shorts. Beca was sure Chloe was smirking as she did it.

As soon as she was out of sight, Beca grabbed her phone from the desk. A text from her dad and a couple from Stacie. She opened the messages from the latter.

Stacie [11:13 pm]: How’d it go?

Stacie [11:30 pm]: I’m assuming the silence is a good thing and ur just too busy making out with Chloe to reply ;)

Beca typed out a quick message.

Beca [9:30 am]: So…..

Stacie [9:30 am]: THIS BETTER BE GOOD NEWS

Beca [9:31 am]: How do you keep replying so quickly??

Stacie [9:31 am]: How about you stop avoiding

Beca thought of the million different things she could say, but opted for simplicity.

Beca [9:32 am]: :)

Stacie [9:33 am]: Is that good

Stacie [9:33 am]: Beca is that good

Stacie [9:34 am]: ?????

She set her phone down, feeling giddy. It might have been a bit cruel to leave Stacie hanging, but she’d get over it. She’d get the full story eventually, but right now, Beca wanted to keep as much of this thing with Chloe to herself as possible. Definitely not like a shameful secret, though.

Something about telling someone about it, however vaguely, made last night and this morning seem actually real. She had this feeling deep in her chest that this was the start of something incredible, which made her both excited and a bit scared. Ok a lot scared. Terrified even.

It sucked that they’d have be apart right as they were starting something. Winter break couldn’t be over soon enough.

#bechloe #merry pitchmas 2020 #pitchmas 2020 #pitch perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #stacie conrad #college AU #snowed in #fic #anotherbechloeshipper

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peppersonironi · 4 years

Text

Batfam Avengers Crossover Chapter Two: Meeting

Chapter Two, folks! Finally some batfam appearances.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov & Damian Wayne, Clint Barton & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd,

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Justice League (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Bat-Cow (DCU), Goliath (DCU), Selina Kyle’s Cat Isis, Kate Kane (DCU), Duke Thomas,

Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Avengers Meet The Batfam, MCU/Batfam crossover, Crossover, no beta we die like robins, rated T for Jason’s language, I bleeped it out though. Just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, canon? What’s canon?, Deaf Clint Barton,Deaf Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Batfamily (DCU), Birdflash and joyfire are implied/referenced,

Summary: Avengers enter the cave, and meet the batfam!

Notes: In sorry if this chapter is a bit boring, I tried to keep it light. (I know the techie stuff that I glossed over bored even me) But now that I’m done with the first introductory chapters, I can move to some - hopefully - more fun scenarios!

“Woah.” Peter looked around at the giant cavern that the Green Lantern guy had flown them into. His ring had formed some kind of platform to carry them, and Peter was still theorizing how it worked.

They had flown toward the city - named Gotham apparently - following the mysterious “Batman”. Then reached a waterfall, which had a huge mechanical door system that parted the water. They had gone through a long pathway lit up on the edges before emerging in the cave.

It was huge, with multiple platforms built into the rock. Peter first found himself on one that was clearly meant for vehicles, as there were multiple motorcycles parked beside where Batman’s car stopped. There were other levels that held gym equipment, a sparring ring, weapons stations, and some sort of lab. There was weird memorabilia too. Peter spotted a giant penny, dinosaur, and a Joker playing card. A few more levels had cases for suits, not unlike that which Mr. Stark had. Though some of the suits were strange. One was clearly bloody and ripped. One of the most prominent platforms held a huge computer with a dominating black chair.

However, Peter could have sworn it was playing … The Dinosaur Game? That was weird.

Batman got out of his car the way he had before and made his way over toward the Avengers, where they had been set down by Green Lantern. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a very loud voice called out in the cave, startling everyone except the Batman.

“Bruce! Where the F*** is my AK-47?!”

The Hulk, who had since transformed back into Bruce Banner, frowned in confusion.

No one got the chance to question it, however, because a young man in a skin tight black bodysuit swung from another level, and was now hanging upside down from a support beam near Batman. He had a blue bird on his chest, Peter thought it looked a bit like an eagle. He also had on a black domino mask.

“Hey B!” He said cheerily. “ I should probably warn you that Hood is on a rampage ‘cause he can’t find his gun. And also Robin is threatening everyone as per usual. ” The Dark Knight sighed. “What about Red Robin, Spoiler, and Oracle? ”

The new comer grinned. “Dinosaur Game Championship. Oracle is in the lead.”

There was a sudden shout of disapproval from where the apparent game seemed to be held.

“And Signal?”

“Taking weapons stock while muttering about how insane we all are.” He shook his head. “He seems to forget he’s one of us, and therefore crazy by association.”

The Dark Knight sighed once more, this time with his fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Thank you Nightwing. Would you tell Red Hood that his AK-47 is in the Med Bay where he left it when he was doing his stitches? And tell everyone to meet in the conference room in uniform. Code 27G.”

Nightwings eyes - well, lenses - widened. He glanced at the Avengers. “Huh. Sure can do B.”

He swung up from his perch, flipped onto the platform above him - Peter was pretty impressed at how casually he did so - and ran off, seemingly melting into the shadows.

An awkward silence followed, with the Avengers all huddling protectively together. Peter really wanted to explore - that T-Rex looked awesome - but he saw the worried look on Mr. Stark’s face. This was an unfamiliar situation. They must be cautious.

A moment later Peter had had enough of caution. “Excuse me sir, is that a dinosaur?”

The Dark Knight turned toward Peter and glared. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Mr. Stark tense up. But a split second later the glare softened. “Yes. Animatronic. From one of my early … endeavors.”

Peter grinned under his mask. “Cool!”

Batman lifted his head, and began walking on a path up. “Come, I’ll show you where we can talk.”

*****

They entered a meeting room that was off to the side of the cave. There was already a group present. They were clumped loosely in a corner, boredom and intrigue apparent on their faces. They all stood to attention when Batman walked into the room, all except for Nightwing from earlier. He was currently in a handstand in the center of the conference table, shifting from one hand to the other. He collapsed onto the table at the sight of the arrivals, before quickly jumping to his feet and saluting with an embarrassed grin on his face. Batman rolled his eyes and they all went back to what they were doing, except Nightwing who slumped into a chair.

The group of teeneagers were dressed in more skin-tight suits. Peter was slightly taken aback by how young they were. The smallest seemed to be around ten - perhaps he was this “Robin” mentioned earlier - and the oldest in his early twenties. Most seemed to be about his own age though, in their mid teens. It felt weird to not be the only kid.

The closest was a young man sitting in one of the chairs with his feet on the table. He seemed to be taller than Nightwing, with a broader chest. He wore gray cargo pants, some sort of utility belt, an armored shirt with a red bat on it, a leather jacket, and a red helmet that looked a lot like Tony’s. Peter could already imagine the copyright complaints from their resident billionaire. The man also had gun holsters on each leg, and was stroking a - newly returned - AK-47 in his arms.

The first teenager had black bottoms and red top with a black and gold “X” over his chest, joined by some symbol that looked vaguely like an “R”. He also had a black cape and smooth cowl. He was standing in the corner, leaning against a wall with a tablet and mug of coffee in hand.

A teenage girl stood beside the teen, dressed in a mostly purple with hints-of-black bodysuit and a purple hooded cape. She wore a full black mask over her face, with only white lenses. It was a bit freaky, but she was mostly non-threatening, due to her easygoing posture and laugh, which was directed at the teen with the cowl.

The kid was dressed in black leggings, green boots and gloves, a red and yellow tunic with an “R” on it, black and yellow hooded cape, and green domino mask. Though the strangest thing about him was the huge Katana he was sharpening while sitting at the table. He also had an unimpressed glare on his face. Peter decided that he and Helmet-Guy were the scariest in the room. Aside from Batman.

Another teenaged boy had a tired look on what Peter could see of his face, as he looked slightly disapprovingly at his companions. He stood in more heavily plated bright yellow and black armor with a bat symbol on it. He had a utility belt, and a helmet which looked to be shaped like a bat.

What was with these people and bats?

Peter didn’t get to ask, as at that moment a new person joined the group. Flying down a ramp was a red headed young woman in a wheelchair. She expertly slowed to a stop in front of Batman, who had not yet entered the room. Peter noticed that she had hastily applied a black domino mask, leaving a pair of glasses in her lap, along with a laptop.

“Sorry I’m late B, I forgot where I had put my extra mask. These things keep disappearing!” She said the last part while glaring at the kids.

“It’s fine, Oracle. Now that we’re all here-” He paused, then looked around at the group. “Where’s Black Bat?”

“Handling a Robbery downtown. She’s finishing up. ETA 20 minutes.”

Batman nodded. “Very well, we’ll continue without her, she won’t mind.”

He entered the room, ushering everyone else to do so as well. With a quick glare, all the kids sat down. The Avengers joined them, as there were plenty of seats. The only one who did not sit was Batman.

He spoke once everyone was ready, mainly directing his words to the kids. Peter briefly wondered what it would be like to actually be respected like that, but shook off the thought. Batman quickly and efficiently summarizes the events, including several readings of the energy sources, which only the red and black teen seemed to understand as he nodded along, looking fascinated. Once he was done, Batman turned to the Avengers. “Names. No need to share personal identities if you are uncomfortable. Though since we are from different earths, I doubt it would matter.”

“Everyone already knows our identities on our earth,” Mr. Stark said, receiving several weird looks from the teens. “So it’s not a problem for us.” He removed his face plate. “Tony Stark, I’m Iron man in the suit, which I built myself.” He gestures to Steve Rogers next.

“Captain America, Steve Rogers. Our resident super soldier and senior citizen.” Steve frowned at the last comment.

“Bruce Banner,” Mr. Stark said next, “Alter ego is the Hulk. Anger Issues and Gamma radiation galore.”

Red Robin perked up. “Cool! How did-” He was cut off by a glare from Batman.

“This is Thor Odinson, named… well, Thor. God of lightning, has a hammer. You can call him Sparky Sparky Boom Man.” A pause. “Yeah, maybe just stick with Thor.”

“Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye. Our long distance weapons specialist.” Mr. Stark gestured to Clint’s bow for good measure. The kids giggled and whispered something to each other that sounded like ‘Green Arrow knockoff ’, though Peter didn’t get it.

“Black Widow, Natasha Romanov. Intelligence expert, and ex-assassin.” This got a bunch of whispers from the kids.

Peter was the last to be introduced. He pulled off his mask while Mr. Stark said “The kid’s Peter Parker, our rookie, also known as Siderman ”

“You sure it’s Spiderman,” Helmet-Guy said.

Peter glared. “Yes.”

“Red Hood,” Batman said, frowning. “No antagonizing the interdimensional visitors.”

Red Hood just shrugged and went back to stroking his gun.

The Avengers just sat around awkwardly. The Woman jabbed her elbow into Superman’s ribs, which got him talking.

“Oh… It’s only fair we introduce ourselves, since it isn’t really official earlier.” This time it was Superman who spoke. “I’m Superman, known as Kal-El, a kryptonian. Human name is Clark Kent.”

Huh, he didn’t look like an alien.

“Here we have Wonder Woman, an amazon, demigoddess, and princess. Secret Identity is Diana Prince.” He gestured to the woman, who, despite just being called a princess, looked very threatening indeed.

“Martian Manhunter, a martian known as J’onn J'onzz. Civilian name is John Jones. Yes, quite original.” The Martian nodded in greeting, and Peter was seriously freaking out. A real martian!? Cool!

“Flash, a speedster also known as Barry Allen.” The man pulled back his cowl as Superman spoke.

“S’up?” He asked with a smile.

“And Hal Jordan, one of the Green Lanterns.”

“The best Green Lantern.”

Batman grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “keep telling yourself that.”

Superman turned to Batman, but before he could, the Dark Knight spoke. “I can do it myself Clark.” He lifted his hand and removed his cowl to reveal a handsome man in his early to mid thirties with black hair and blue eyes. “Batman, also known as Bruce Wayne.”

He turned toward the kids. “These are my kids, as well as partners.”

He started with Nightwing. “Nightwing, aka Richard Grayson. My eldest.” Richard grinned and removed his domino mask. He too had blue eyes.

“Call me Dick,” he said.

“Red Hood, aka Jason Todd, my second eldest.” Jason pressed some button or something on his helmet and took it off to reveal… a domino mask. After a quick glare from Bruce, he sighed and took it off. Revealing black hair and blue eyes.

“Red Robin,” there was a soft ‘yum’ that came from the corner, though Peter couldn’t tell who said it. “Aka Tim Drake.” Tim pulled his cowl back and grinned. He had black hair and blue eyes.

“Over there is Signal, aka Duke Thomas, my ward.” The teen took off his helmet, revealing yet another black-haired kid. Though Duke was clearly african american, and had brown eyes.

“Next is Robin aka Damian Wayne, my youngest.” Damian sneered as if he were above everyone around him.

“Spoiler, aka Stephanie Brown, is a family friend.” Stephanie waved.

“I’m also his ex,” Stephanie said, jutting her thumb at Tim.

Tim groaned. “When will you stop introducing yourself like that?”

“When it stops getting under your skin.”

Tim sank back in his chair and flung an arm over his eyes.

Batman sighed once more. “Oracle, aka Barbara Gordan. Also a family friend, and our tech specialist.” Baraba nodded in recognition. “Now that introductions are out of the way, we must discuss how you got here, and how you’ll get back.”

Everyone nodded and began the discussion. Mr. Stark started off the explanation, going over Anagnorisis, the compound, the gun that they got hit with, and how they ended up in the crater.

The other adults - mainly Batman - popped in, talking about the calculations for such an interdimensional jump. Peter listened intently, as he found it utterly fascinating, but didn’t add anything. Then Tim spoke, listing off a series of numbers and variables, that were received with nods. Peter was a bit jealous that he spoke so easily. So Peter decided to add something later on, a small comment about energy sources. When he did, the conversation stopped. Peter thought he was dead meat for interrupting, but then Bruce - Wayne, not Banner - spoke.

“The kid’s smart.”

Mr. Stark smiled proudly.

A moment later the conversation continued. They went on for almost a half hour, and even Peter was getting a bit bored. He could tell the other kids were too. The girls seemed to have gotten back to their Dinosaur Game championship, and there were small cheers and groans coming from their corner every so often. Jason and Damian had yet to set aside their weapons, though they had begun a small conversation too quiet for Peter to hear. The only people who seemed to be paying attention were Dick and Tim, though Dick clearly didn’t understand half the words that were being tossed around.

The adults seemed to be disinterested as well, namely Barry and Hal, who were in the middle of a thumb war. When they inevitably got too loud, Batman sent a glare their way. The other members of the Justice League seemed to only be listening out of courtesy. As were Thor and Clint. Natasha seemed to be focussed more on the kids. She had a small frown on her face, as if something about them bothered her.

Everyone paid attention when Batman spoke next, however. “It should take at least a week to charge up the energy sources and prepare a device to send you home.”

Peter perked up. “That’s not that long. Have you dealt with interdimensional travel in the past?”

Several of the kids groaned. “Don’t remind me,” Stephanie said.

“Worst twenty-six hours of my life!” Dick agreed.

Then Jason spoke, and Peter was speechless.

“It was almost as bad as that time I died. Now that wasn’t a fun evening.”

“You died?” Natasha said, clearly confused and worried.

“I’m better now,” he said as if referring to a common cold. Jason had a small smirk on his face as he shrugged.

“Back to the discussion at hand,” Batman said, glaring at Jason. “Yes, Peter, we have dealt with the multiverse before. It should be fairly simple to locate your dimension and send you back. The only problem is powering the device. It requires Superman flying out to the sun and placing the energy core inside to fuel it. It needs to remain there for over a week.”

“You can fly to the sun?” Mr. Stark asked. “How do you survive?”

Clark shrugged. “I have impenetrable skin, and a very high melting point.”

No one questioned this, though Peter was quite intrigued.

“Where will they stay?” Dick asked, which caused a sudden silence.

“Does the Watchtower have enough rooms available?” Barry asked.

“What’s the Watchtower?” Peter asked.

“Our space station,” Diana answered, much to Peter’s delight, “and no, we have those visiting Green Lanterns, remember? Hal has been grousing about it all this week.”

“I was not!” Hal said, then sighed. “Okay, maybe I was, but that’s beside the point. What about your farmhouse, Clark?”

Clark shook his head. “Under renovation. Speaking of which I need to head over there after this. Lois will have a cow if I’m late.”

There was silence after that, as everyone was thinking. Then Stephanie got a - slightly evil, Peter thought - smile on her face. “What about the Manor? God knows we have enough space.”

“You don’t even live here!” Tim said.

Bruce glared at Stephanie for a bit then sighed. “The Manor would work. Though why anyone would want to stay with you rabble rousers is beyond my understanding.”

Jason snorted. “Says the guy who adopted us all willingingly.”

Batman grumbled, but was saved from replying as a sudden noise came from the door.

The meeting room had a wide glass window next to the exit - which was open - so Peter had a good view of the sleek black motorcycle that entered the cave, upon which rode a figure dressed all in black. The motorcycle was parked and yet another costumed teen - this time a girl - strolled toward the conference room.

She was dressed in head to toe black, in the form of a skin tight suit. She also had a yellow utility belt, and outline of a bat on her chest. She wore a black cape and cowl which had pointed ears and covered her whole face. There seemed to be some form of stitching across her mouth, which was quite creepy.

She walked forward and entered the room quickly. Bruce smiled upon seeing her.

“Ah, Black Bat. How was the robbery?”

She motioned with her hands in a way that Peter didn’t understand. It seemed vaguely like that sign language which he’d seen Clint use.

Whatever it was, Batman seemed to understand. “Very good. These are our visitors. Code 27G. They’ll be staying at the manor till we can send them back.”

Black Bat reached up and took off her cowl revealing an asian girl around eighteen year old with a black bob. “Good,” she said. “Names?”

“We’re allowing them. Over there we have Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker, and Bruce Banner.”

“Bruce?” She asked with a smirk.

Batman sighed. “Yes.” He turned to the group. “This is my Daughter Cassandra Cain. Alias is Black Bat.”

Everyone muttered small hellos, except Jason who said something with the word “favorite” in it. Cassandra didn’t seem bothered by the lack of enthusiasm. She just smiled and walked over to Damian.

“Seat. Mine.” She spoke simply.

Peter thought the kid would just sneer, but instead he quickly moved over. He could have sworn the kid looked scared. Perhaps the kid was all bark and no bite.

“Well, if that’s all, I really should be going,” Clark Kent said as he rose from the table. “Good luck with staying at the manor. See ya kids.”

“Bye Uncle Supes,” The kids chorused

“I should be going as well,” Barry said. I’m needed at the station.”

Soon the rest of the league left, and the Avengers were left alone with the bats and birds.

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

Eccentricity [Chapter 6: You Know You Got Me In The Palm Of Your Hand]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Mean It by Lauv.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sex and violence, slavery in American history.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @writerxinthedark @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @some-major-ishues @haileymorelikestupid @loveandbeloved29

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

What The Fuck, Washington Animals Are Weird

I woke up in a bedroom drenched in a rainbow of darkness, shades of grey vacillating from charcoal to the wings of a mourning dove; indolent dawn rain pattered against the window. There were no glaring veins of sunlight spilling in through gaps in the curtains, no promise of dry invigorating heat, no whistle of vicious parched wind. Toto, we’re not in Phoenix anymore.

“Ugh,” I complained to the empty room, unraveling from a tangle of blankets patterned with cacti and pure white clouds and rust-orange suns.

I clicked off my iPhone alarm—I’d beaten it by two minutes; my circadian rhythm was finally conceding that this whole Pacific Time thing was permanent—and read my nine new texts from Joe.

3:12 a.m.: Hey it’s an emergency what’s the plural of octopus

3:13 a.m.: Rami is insisting that it is octopuses

3:14 a.m.: But it’s octopi, right? Right?? I just announced in front of everyone that it’s octopi

3:15 a.m.: Scarlett is verbally abusing me

3:18 a.m.: Oh you are probably asleep

3:21 a.m.: Update, according to the internet Rami is right and now I have to assume a new identity and move to Antarctica

3:25 a.m.: We can discuss logistics of the Antarctica relocation tomorrow

3:26 a.m.: Hope you like penguins

3:30 a.m.: Okay goodnight!! Don’t let the mythical creatures bite!!

“That man,” I murmured to myself, smiling.

I typed out: It’s definitely octopuses, you clown. Then I deleted ‘clown’ and replaced it with its Italian equivalent: pagliaccio. Text sent.

Joe responded almost instantly. I had to ask Lucy what pagliaccio meant and now she’s verbally abusing me too. Send help. See you at lunch. xx

Wait, two Xs? What did Xs mean?? Kisses???

Did Joseph Francis Mazzello, sexy undead Italian man, just send me multiple text kisses?

“You’re gonna give me an aneurism, Chicago boy,” I muttered at my phone as I slid it into the pocket of my flannel pajama pants. And then I glanced out the bedroom window into a tussle of rain and thick, caliginous fog.

Just a few feet beyond the misted glass, its leathery talons hooked around a branch of Charlie’s decades-old red alder tree, was an owl. But not just any owl. A hulking, spotlessly white owl.

“Oh, hey, you,” I whispered, leaning closer, pressing my palms against the cold window. My hands left transparent imprints in the condensation. “Hey, buddy. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping? I sure wish I was. Did something wake you up? Did your idiot vampire boyfriend disturb you with a series of ridiculous texts?”

The owl just contemplated me with unnervingly vast, slick, engrossed eyes. And there was something else, too: those eyes were blood red.

“So you’re an albino owl, huh big guy? Good for you. You know, usually albino animals don’t last all that long in the wild. Because they’re really easy for predators and prey to spot. Or they get skin cancer. So congratulations on living to become the voluptuous, tremendously creepy creature that you are today. Job well done.”

The owl stared back at me unflinchingly, blinked, then resumed staring. Rainwater gathered in swelling beads like blood drops on its ivory-colored beak and talons.

“Well,” I noted, turning away and grabbing my shower towel off the back of the desk chair. “You don’t get that in Arizona.”

Thirty minutes later, I was bounding down the stairs two at a time to meet Charlie in the kitchen. He was browsing through his daily newspaper at the table, drinking coffee and nibbling messily on burnt triangles of toast. Crumbs littered his moustache.

“You didn’t tell me that living here came with the added benefit of freaky albino animal friends.”

Charlie crinkled his forehead at me. “Huh?”

“How was bowling with the dads last night?”

“Oh, awesome!” he exclaimed, folding up his newspaper and slapping it down on the table. “We bowled against the team from Mora and it came right down to the wire, but we caught them. Dr. Lee got a strike on his very last turn. He always seems to do that...he’ll be bowling hit or miss all night and then when it really matters he manages to pull a strike out of nowhere. He’s a beast.”

“He’s a pretty remarkable guy,” I agreed, rummaging through the cabinets for Pop-Tarts.

“He mentioned that you and his son were really hitting it off,” Charlie said, grinning. “Not the ragey blond one. The spindly annoying one. What’s his name again? Josh? Jimmy?”

“Joe.” I conjured up my best poker face of lofty indifference. It crumbled like a sandcastle beneath reckless, rushing footsteps.

“Ohhhh, I saw that!” Charlie said, pointing, delighted. “Check out that smile. My gorgeous, brilliant progeny has a crush. I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t be single for long up here. Alright, I’m ready. Bring on the grandchildren.”

“Shut up,” I pleaded good-naturedly.

“Relax, I have great news. According to Gwil, that Joe kid is pretty wild about you too.”

“Oh, is that what you old guys do between bowling turns? Betray your children’s deepest confidences? Matchmake them over nachos and chili cheese dogs?” Still, my curiosity was piqued. “What else did Dr. Lee say about Joe?”

“I think the exact word he used was...” Charlie reminisced, sipping his coffee, curls of steam pouring over the rim of the mug. “Smitten.”

Supernatural Pictionary

I turned the notebook to Joe so he could see; everyone else momentarily covered their eyes or looked away. Then Lucy started the timer on her iPhone. Thirty seconds.

“Go!” Lucy announced.

“I think it’s a boat,” Rami said, hesitantly, haltingly, squinting at Joe with great concentration.

“Do you?” Joe teased.

“Yeah. But I’m also getting something about a fish.”

“Maybe I’m trying to make you think it’s a fish because it’s actually a boat,” Joe replied flippantly.

Rami muttered: “Or you want me to think it’s a boat because it’s actually a fish.”

“Interesting.”

“Now you’re mentally singing Never Gonna Give You Up just to fuck with me.”

Joe gasped, pressing a palm to his chest. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do!”

Scarlett snickered, dunking her chicken tender in honey mustard, slurping Coke through a straw clenched between crimson-painted lips. “That sounds exactly like something you would do.”

“Fifteen seconds,” Lucy warned.

“Fish or boat, boat or fish...” Rami chanted, peering fixedly at Joe.

“Make a decision,” I taunted, hugging the notebook to my chest.

“I’m going with boat,” Rami decided.

“Final answer?” Lucy asked, then stopped the timer when Rami nodded.

“Loser!” Joe cackled victoriously, leaping out of his chair, waving his L-shaped fingers in the air. Calawah University students at nearby tables glanced over with wide, startled eyes, their beloved chicken tenders briefly forgotten. “How’s it feel to not win every round of a game, huh?! Loser!”

I flipped my notebook so Rami could see the extremely unskilled pencil sketch I’d drawn there: a smiling fish. “My condolences.”

“Damn.” Rami pulled a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet and slid it across the table to Joe. Joe snatched it up, tucked it into the waistline of his jeans like a stripper collecting money in her G-string, and slung his arm around my shoulders.

“We are the champions. Bask in our glory.”

Scarlett turned on her iPhone flashlight and waved it in slow arcs over her head. “Youuuuu are the champions, my friendssssss...”

From my usual lunch table, Jessica gazed at my esteemed place among the Lees with palpable envy, resting her chin in her hands. I had worked out a schedule that seemed fairly obvious given my extensive experience as a child of divorce: lunch with Jessica et al. one day, lunch with the Lees the next. I took a bite of the Chipotle veggie bowl that Joe had insisted on ordering for me and tossed Jessica a sympathetic wave. Get Ben’s Snapchat for me! she mouthed back. I harbored serious doubts that Benjamin August Hardy, former professional assassin, born in 1893, had a Snapchat.

Joe’s words from last week rolled around in my head; I could see him all over again, nodding to the enormous painting hung in Gwil’s upstairs office, telling me about those startling, ethereal figures who had initiated Ben into life as a vampire. They call themselves the Draghi. They collect dues from covens, offer protection, keep order, protect our secrets. But they also demand loyalty. They force people they want into service. They might try to make it seem like you have a choice, but you don’t. They destroy anyone who tries to resist them. And they feed on humans.

“This is so awesome,” Lucy sighed, elated. “We could never play Pictionary before, drawing something is way too much of a mental process, Rami always figured it out right away...”

But now they had a built-in blindfold, someone who could draw without Rami getting a peek into their thoughts, a fighting chance at hiding the truth from him...for thirty seconds, at least.

“Okay Benny Boy, you’re up.” Joe darted over to Ben’s side of the table and massaged his tense, muscular shoulders as Ben grimaced. “You got this. I believe in you. Baby Swan is gonna pitch you a home run.”

“I’ll pass,” Ben said.

“You can’t!” Lucy cried. “Ben, please? Rami got Scarlett’s, and then he didn’t get Joe’s...and I know he’s going to see though me immediately. You’re our only chance to tie things up and maybe beat him!”

“Traitor,” Rami told Lucy affectionately.

“Uhh...” Ben hesitated, glimpsing longingly at the doors that led outside to the grove of bigleaf maple trees. He was fidgeting restlessly with his vape pen.

“Come on, Benny!” Joe begged. “I’ll owe you. I’ll do anything.”

Ben perked up a little bit. “You’ll do my Calc 2 homework for a month?”

Joe groaned theatrically, but nodded. He was wearing a grey U Chicago hoodie today. “Fine. Okay. But you’re gonna have to learn that shit eventually, I can’t take the MCAT for you.”

“Deal.” Ben bumped his knuckles against Joe’s.

“Batter up,” Joe heralded in his best mock-umpire voice, grinning at me expectantly, drumming the table with his palms. “Go Baby Swan, go! What will she choose? Will she continue with the nautical theme? Will she change it up, maybe switch to beloved Chicago landmarks? Baseball or food? Will she invent a variety of pizza even more despicable than pineapple?”

“Hm.” I flipped to a fresh notebook page, scratched my temple with the eraser end of the pencil, then quickly sketched a picture for Ben. “Okay, I’m ready.” I showed the drawing to Ben while everyone else covered their eyes.

Ben shook his head, scowling. “You’ll have to try again. I have no idea what that is.”

“Really?!” I checked the picture again. Okay, it definitely didn’t belong in the Louvre or anything, but it was lifelike enough to be decipherable. “You don’t recognize it? At all?”

“No,” Ben replied flatly.

From behind his shielded eyes, Rami scanned through the images in Ben’s mind. He dropped his hands onto the table. “SpongeBob?!”

“Who...?” Ben ventured.

Everyone else looked too. “Oh yeah, that’s definitely SpongeBob,” Joe said, then chuckled. “Aww, Baby Swan, you even remembered his little necktie!”

“It’s so cute!” Lucy trilled.

Ben just stared at the picture, blinking, completely lost, increasingly morose. And now there was a new guest at the table; or maybe not a new one, maybe just a quiet one, something that perched on the ledge of every conversation and field of vision just waiting to tap its claws against the wall and make its presence known: that interminable reminder of Ben’s unconventional past life, of how incomparable his vampiric upbringing was to those of the rest of the Lee kids.

“Benny Boy, you’ve never seen SpongeBob?” Joe inquired gently. “No problem. We’ll have a marathon tonight. I have the entire series on DVD. Also several Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy action figures.”

Scarlett snorted. “This is why you’ve been single since Hoover was president.”

“I wasn’t single the whole time,” Joe corrected.

“Oh, really?” Not that I’m interested, my voice suggested. I was a total liar. I was super interested. Thank the great deity that Rami and Ben couldn’t read me like a restaurant menu. Today’s specials are Being In Love With Someone Wildly Inappropriate for $15.99, and also Lamenting My Own Lack Of Sexual Experience for $11.99. Oh, and clam chowder.

“He had a couple of...what would you call them?” Scarlett combed her elegant fingers through her voluminous blonde hair. “What’s the modern vernacular? Fuck buddies? Booty calls? Netflix and chill partners?”

My stomach lurched; I nonchalantly buried my fork in a mountain of guacamole and left it there. I kept my lips turned up into a smile like a mask. Of course he’s loved other people. Duh. He’s hot and immortal. Get over it. But that didn’t calm my pounding heartbeat at all, didn’t soothe that sudden and irrational melancholy.

“Whoa whoa whoa, okay, you’re making it sound way worse than it was,” Joe protested, glancing at me nervously.

Scarlett continued: “It wasn’t serious, whatever it was. None of them would have cared about your action figure collection or obsession with a city you haven’t lived in for fifty years. It wasn’t your personality they wanted. Thank god.”

Oh this is bad, I thought helplessly. How am I ever going to be able to compete with the memory of countless gorgeous vampire girlfriends?

“Uh, ScarJo, you’re single too.” And Joe’s nickname for her was strangely apt; Scarlett could pass for Scarlett Johansson’s younger, blonder, much hotter sister. And Scarlett Johansson, in case you’re somehow unaware, is already pretty fucking hot.

Scarlett flashed a grin. “Entirely by choice.”

“And much to Mercy’s eternal and profound concern,” Lucy told me. “She stages an intervention at least twice a month. Did I overhear one last week, Scarlett?”

“Oh jesus, yeah. I was like, ‘Mom, what the hell do I need a husband for? I have my own money. I can fix household appliances. I have a vibrator. I’m good to go.’”

Joe rocked back in his chair, howling. “You did not tell Mom that!”

“I did. She was so distraught. She just kind of pinched her eyes shut and shuddered and then went out back to feed the alpacas.”

“Scarlett, babe,” Rami managed between gales of laughter. “A vibrator isn’t going to keep you company for all of eternity. It’s not a suitable substitute for a life partner.”

“You’re right. It’s even better. It’ll never abandon or disappoint me. Assuming I keep the batteries fresh, of course.”

“Oh my god,” Lucy giggled into her hands.

“She’s not wrong,” I said, shrugging, sipping my Diet Coke.

And Joe peered over at me, surprised, intrigued, slowly raising his thin dark eyebrows. I winked back. Yeah, okay, I’ve never slept with someone. But that doesn’t mean I’ve never had an orgasm.

“Ah, loud thoughts! Loud thoughts! Joe, please!” Rami moaned, pressing his balled fists to his forehead.

Ben smirked. “There’s a color I’ve never seen from you before, Joe.”

“This family is the worst!” Joe exploded.

“I like that girl,” Scarlett decided, signaling to me with glossy maroon fingernails. “She can stay.”

Joe sighed, flustered, then shook it off as he turned to me. “You coming over tonight?”

“I can’t spend every night at your house petting alpacas, mob guy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling, draping his arm around the back of my chair. “Why not?”

“Well, my tonight-specific reason is that I’m visiting a friend.”

“Cool. Your friends are my friends. Can I visit too?”

“You’re aware that you’re a legit stalker, right?” But actually, Archer was dying to meet Joe: the loud Lee, the approachable Lee, the Lee who I definitely liked more than a Tinder swipe could ever convey. This could work. “Offer to buy dinner and you can come.”

“I’m a walking Visa, baby.”

Ben stood, hauled on his backpack, gathered up his trash to throw away. “I need a smoke break before Chem. See you guys later.”

“Don’t forget!” Joe called after him. “SpongeBob marathon starts at 8! I’ll bring the Milk Duds!”

And when Ben disappeared through the doors, a solemn hush descended over the table.

“Poor guy,” Lucy said softly. The other Lees nodded.

And again, I recalled what Joe had told me in Gwil’s office, what he had said when I asked how Ben came to join the Lee family. He was assigned to us, to be the liaison to our coven. And Gwil saw something in him. Potential, suffering, unrealized decency, I don’t know. But Gwil worked on him for years, trying to convince Ben to leave the Draghi when his contract was up and come live with us. To give a peaceful life a try. And to be honest, Ben never seemed interested. But something must have resonated with him, because we opened the front door on October 15th, 2016 and he was sitting on the steps of our porch with a single suitcase, puffing on that fucking vape pen and watching the storm clouds roll in off the Pacific Ocean.

But why would they just let him leave? I had asked, tracing my fingertips over the uncanny and magnificent faces in that painting. Why would they let him live?

Because they know how valuable he is. And because they think they can get him back.

“I think he’s a good person,” I said, breaking the silence. “You know. Underneath the whole being raised to be a killing machine thing.”

“Yeah,” Rami replied, frowning thoughtfully. “Just try not to spend too much time alone with him.”

Car Jacks And Sneak Attacks

“Joe, this is Archer James Foxchild, my first-ever best friend.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Joe said, shaking Archer’s oil-stained hand. “I understand you are really good at making mud pies and poking dead animals with sticks.”

Archer chuckled. “It’s true. We found a shark tooth down at La Push one time and I convinced Baby Swan here that it was from a sea monster. She had nightmares for months. Charlie called my dad over it and I got my Game Boy taken away.”

“No!” Joe gasped in horror. “Were you a Pokémon guy?”

“For sure.”

“Ruby or Sapphire?”

“Emerald.”

Joe grinned. “This dude knows what’s up.”

“And to think, my grandpa tried to tell me that you guys were freaks,” Archer replied.

“Well,” Joe conceded. “Not all of us.”

“Maybe you two should start dating,” I said. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit in my Honda and eat my Taco Bell cheese quesadillas and Cinnamon Twists and try not to interrupt all the sex.”

“Yes, you brought Taco Bell,” Archer sighed euphorically. “Give me five minutes, I just gotta finish rotating these tires real quick.” He jogged to the other end of the garage, knelt beside a Ford Mustang that was propped up on a jack, and starting twisting off lug nuts with a tire iron.

“You have a nice place here,” Joe observed, strolling around the small garage with his hands in the front pocket of his U Chicago hoodie, eyeing the fractures in the concrete floor and the spidering cracks in the windows. “You have any investors?”

“Are you kidding?!” Archer replied from the Mustang. “No, man, it’s just me. I rent for now, but at some point I’ll buy my own shop. Once I’ve saved up enough. A great big one with shiny new equipment and no mice squeaking behind the walls.”

“What’s your cash flow like?”

“I’m netting around three grand a month after taxes.”

“Not bad!” Joe noted admiringly.

“Yeah. It’s a hustle, but I love it.”

“Hey, I don’t know if you’d be interested—and absolutely no pressure if you’re not, really—but I do a lot of work with start-ups and I’d love to help you get into your own shop. By this Christmas, preferably. If we can work out a deal.”

“Really?!” Archer peeked incredulously over the hood of the Mustang.

“Absolutely.”

Archer beamed at me. “This guy is willing to drop serious cash to look good in front of you. You should probably marry him. No prenup though.”

I held my pinky out towards Joe, grinning. “No more sad prenups.”

He laughed and hooked my pinky with his. “Bankrupt me, bitch.”

I heard the metallic clang of a lug nut hitting the concrete floor and rolling under the Mustang. “Come back here, you bastard,” Archer muttered, then dropped to his stomach and crawled beneath the car.

“Hey, kid, be careful,” I fretted, crossing my arms across my chest and taking a step closer.

“Relax, Baby Swan, I am a professional, changing a tire for me is like feeding a fish for you, so just chill and keep fantasizing about those Cinnamon Twists—”

There was a squeal of metal as the car jack collapsed and the Mustang came crashing down. In a fraction of a second—faster than I could see him moving, faster than I could loose a scream—Joe had soared across the garage, yanked Archer out from beneath the falling Mustang, and dragged him to the center of the room.

“Oh fuck,” Archer wheezed, his dark eyes huge and fascinated and horrified. “Grandpa was right.”

I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)

We rolled up to the Lee house in my 1999 Honda Accord just as I polished off the last of my Cinnamon Twists and Archer chewed, tentatively and dazedly, on a Cheesy Gordita Crunch. The sun was beginning to set in a clouded sky that perpetually threatened rain.

He asked Joe for the fifth time from the back seat: “But wait, seriously, no one is going to eat me, right? Because I’m too young to die. I haven’t taken enough vacations yet. I can’t die without seeing Hawaii. I want to swim with the sea turtles.”

“No, none of us have ever eaten people. Well, almost none of us. Maybe stay away from Ben.”

“I would like a little more exposition,” Archer replied, blanching.

“Hey, if you stay until 8, you guys can join us for the SpongeBob marathon!”

Gwil and Mercy were waiting on the front porch, thanks to Joe’s ‘hey I accidentally exposed myself as a paranormal being and now we have a new friend, plz don’t be mad okay love you see you soon!1!!’ text.

“Welcome, sweetheart!” Mercy fussed, enfolding Archer into her arms as soon as he stepped out of the Honda. “Would you like some hummingbird cake? I just baked it this morning. And maybe some sweet tea too. And some peanut butter cookies. And banana pudding.”

“Sure,” he responded, bewildered. This lady does not seem like a bloodsucking demon, that voice said. And he was absolutely right.

“I’ll fix you up a tray,” Mercy promised, and hurried into the house.

“We’re so very happy to have you, Mr. Foxchild.” Gwil shook Archer’s hand firmly. “We don’t get many visitors around here. I’m sure you understand why.”

“My grandpa always insisted that there was something off about you guys. Especially you, Dr. Lee. Said you shouldn’t still be around.”

“Yes, I imagine that would have been disconcerting for him. He must have remembered us from the 1940s...that’s the last time we settled down in Forks. It’s not often that someone recognizes us after so long, but it happens. It was just Mercy and me and Rami and Joe back then. And look how far we’ve come.” Gwil beamed warmly, then turned to Joe. “But really, son, you’re going to have to stop telling humans about us.”

“Hold up, I was not responsible for her!” Joe exclaimed, waving at me. “Take it up with Ben!”

The garage door rumbled open and Scarlett sauntered out, wiping her filthy hands with a rag. She halted abruptly, stood there in her high-waisted vintage jeans and black crop top and bare feet with maroon-colored toenails, tilted her head and pondered Archer with an innocent sort of curiosity that I hadn’t seen from her before.

“Wait,” Archer said, gaping. “Is that...is that an Aston Martin Vantage in there?!”

“You bet,” Scarlett replied. “You want to learn how to work on it?”

“Uh, hell to the yeah!” He trotted over and they vanished into the garage together.

“Huh,” Joe muttered, watching them. “She was nice to him. Very weird.” He whirled back to me. “Anyway, come on. I promised you an education in classic rock music. And I shall deliver.”

Joe’s bedroom was a chaotic jumble of economics textbooks and Chicago Cubs paraphernalia and U Chicago apparel and action figures and comic books and classic rock posters. There was a massive Italian flag tacked to the wall above his bed. But what caught my attention immediately was a life-sized cardboard cutout of Ben lurking in the corner by a bookshelf full of cassette tapes.

“How is there any possible logical explanation for that?” I asked, pointing.

“Oh, that! That was a joke. When Ben first showed up, he pretty much lived in his room and never came out. Gwil was worried. Mercy was heartbroken. So I made a cardboard cutout of him and would bring it to family activities and do this really deep and seductive Ben voice when I pretended to have conversations with him. It gave the whole situation some levity...and I think Ben secretly liked that we missed him enough to make an artificial version to fill the void.”

“So this bitchy, brooding, blood-craving Ben I met is actually a drastic improvement?”

“Oh, Baby Swan,” Joe confided, almost sadly. “You have no idea what he was like four years ago.”

“I’m glad he has you. All of you. That he has a chance to get better.”

“I think you might be good for him too. Seeing a human as a real person instead of a walking, talking Hi-C juice box. And you care about him, don’t you? Despite everything.”

“Of course. It’s not his fault they taught him to be a monster.”

Joe just looked at me for a while, and then he cradled my face with one hand and grazed a thumb across my cheek “You’re never going to stop saying things that knock me into next week, are you?”

“Joe...” I hesitated, laying my hand over his. His skin was smooth and yielding yet strong, cool yet not unnaturally so. Refreshing. Safe. Fan-fucking-tastic. Oh noooooo. “Are we a thing?”

“Why? Do you want to be a thing?”

“Oh, uh, no, I was just wondering if we were.”

He stepped away, teasing me with a crooked smirk. “...So you don’t want to be a thing?”

“What would that entail?”

“Well...we’d be an official thing, you and me.” He shot finger guns at me, and then towards himself. “Which means you can’t be a thing with anyone else. And neither can I.”

“Ahhh, I see. So this thing is an exclusive thing.”

“Will you shut up and just admit that you’d totally be thrilled to be a thing with me?”

“Fine. Whatever. We’re a thing.”

“Nice.” He high-fived me.

“This is the most romantic moment of my life.”

“But wait, there’s more.” He went to the bookshelf, browsed through his cassette tape collection, found the one he wanted and popped it into a boombox that was probably older than I was. The frantic opening piano notes of I’d Do Anything For Love poured out.

“Meat Loaf,” I said in disbelief. “Really. This is the product of your superior taste in music. This is the culmination of over a century of musical experience. Meat Loaf.”

“The man is a genius!”

“This is all an elaborate joke about my vegetarianism, isn’t it?”

“No,” Joe mused. “But now that you mention it, I have yet another reason to force you to appreciate this song.” He took my hand in his, spun me around like a ballerina in a slow and careful circle, sang along—with extreme and dramatic enthusiasm—to the music.

“And I would do anything for love

I'd run right into hell and back

I would do anything for love

I'd never lie to you and that's a fact...”

“I don’t dance,” I cautioned him, laying a palm against his chest to catch my balance. That brisk, comforting scent of pine and snow and peppermint was everywhere. It feels like I can’t stand to be away from him. Like I’ll never get close enough. “I am terribly uncoordinated. I will step all over your feet. And I’m really not sure if I can trust you. You didn’t even know the plural form of octopus until like eighteen hours ago. You’re kind of a disaster. A, you know, uh, unexpectedly charming, unconventionally super cute, kind of bizarrely enchanting disaster.”

“Yeah,” Joe whispered, smiling, tilting up my chin, leaning in to kiss me. “I like you too.”

Cato

He came out of the oak trees like a ghost, pushing aside massive chandeliers of Spanish moss that blotted out the dusk sun, his expensive shoes sloshing in the marshy water that flooded the rice field. He was wearing a full suit, but no top hat; his hair was black and chin-length and wild around his face. And at first I thought he was a hallucination, a dream conjured by heat sickness or those first dreaded signs of malaria. He was unnervingly, uncommonly beautiful; beautiful like a hurricane, beautiful like lightning or an eclipse. But he was real. I straightened up as I watched him approach, my back aching in protest, a basket full of seedlings slung over my shoulder.

“Mr. Cato.”

His voice, clear and beckoning and twisted by an accent I’d never heard before, rang in my skull like church bells. He called me mister. This white man called me mister.

“Yes sir?” And I almost added: You want to be careful there, sir. The water moccasins like to hide among the tree roots, especially when the sun starts going down. But I had an inexplicable feeling that this man wasn’t afraid of things like snakes. Maybe the snakes should be afraid of him.

“Mr. Cato,” he said again, this time to himself, very quietly, tasting it.

I kept trying to look away, to disentangle my gaze from him like a hook out of a sturgeon’s mouth, because staring piercingly and astonished at a white man like that in the rice swamps of South Carolina in 1851 could get me beaten or the lash, could get my teeth pried right out of my jaw. But it didn’t seem to bother him. He grinned, hugely, all-knowingly, under prehistoric golden eyes like an alligator’s. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. And he was proud.

“Do you want to be free?” he asked, almost hissed, still grinning from the tree line.

What kind of question was that? Did a sandpiper want to fly? Did a coyote want dirt under its paws and flesh disappearing down its throat? But that wasn’t something you ever confessed aloud, not if you wanted your feet on the ground instead of swinging ten inches above it. But this man wasn’t a master, wasn’t an overseer. He wasn’t from the South. He didn’t carry a whip or a club to remind you of the rules of the world. He stood there tall and radiant in the shadows of the fading daylight like he was the one who wrote the rules to begin with; which meant that maybe he could change them. “Yes sir.”

“I can only take you,” the man warned. “No others. No family. No friends.”

“No trouble, sir,” I told him. “They sold my family. They hanged my friends.”

The man’s grin stretched wider under glinting eyes. His canine teeth were sharp, I realized: like a coyote’s, like a snake’s fangs. He held out his hand. “We are going to get along very well, you and I.”

I let the basket fall from my shoulder. I slogged through the mud and rows of wispy verdant rice plants to meet him in the shade of the oak trees. And there, for the first time in forever, a man with skin the color of bones looked me dead in the eye and shook my scarred hand.

“Welcome, Cato,” he whispered; and I was home.

He took my face in his cool palms, gingerly, reverently, like a lover. He touched his teeth to my throat. And every nerve ending in my body flooded with wildfire as he dragged me, screaming, into the depths of the forest.

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snkpolls · 4 years

Text

SnK Chapter 130 Results

The chapter poll closed with 1775 responses. This month’s poll results were brought to you by u/staraves, Crunchwrap, Luna, Momtaku and Giovata! Thank you to everyone for your support!

RATE THE CHAPTER

Maybe it was finally getting Eren’s POV, or maybe it was finally seeing the rumbling in nine glorious double page spreads. Either way “Dawn for Humanity” was very well received with close to 70% giving it the highest possible rating, marking this the most acclaimed chapter since chapter 123.

Beautifully drawn and written. I like the teasing of Eren's PoV

Good to see some Eren and Historia (finally!!) but the lack of answers is really hurting my heart, cmon yama!!

Epic chapter, amazing artwork. And astonishingly, with 5-6-7 chapters left i still don't know where this is going.

Definitely in my top ten best chapters. The ending was gloriously horrifying to read. Also, we finally got some Historia content, which is a big plus.

Cool as hell chapter.

I feel like this chapter wasn’t that great. It kind of gave way to more speculation without giving many concrete answers. The things that it DID answer felt like stating the obvious.

Tease me more, daddy Isayama

This chapter most likely is the best i've ever seen. So many answers and sooo many questions left behind. This chapter directs us to think about the previous chapters and obviously ISAYAMA'S THOUGHTS. That thing makes me happy. I'm very grateful.

Death is on its way, ladies and gents. Also the end is almost here. What the fuck is going on? I just want some answers about E V E R Y T H I N G (especially about Eren's psyche).

Is there a singular word for the feeling of a mosquito bite?

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT?

“The revelation of Eren’s freaky final boss form” was our favorite moment (22.7%) followed by “Eren’s POV finally! Sort of?” (15.8%) and “The rumbling! At last!” (13.4%). “Historia and Eren’s tense discussion on the farm” came in fourth (11.6%).

Fuck yes! Erens back!

Our Queen has finally returned!

The whole chapter was building up to the reveal of Eren's titan form, and I enjoyed it.

Finally back at our one and only true hero Eren.

SWIMMER TITANS ARE NOW THE GOLD MEDALIST FOR THE SWIMMING CATEGORY IN OLYMPICS 2020 special edition

FINNALY HISU POV, even if it’s just a flashback. Honestly I’m just happy to see her again, becuase she’s my favorite character, and even if the flashback gives more questions than answers.

loved zeke-eren bro talk

everyone who thought that Floch was lying in charter 125 are 🤡🤡🤡

reiner tiddies

WHO WAS THIS CHAPTER'S MVP?

“The colossal synchronized swim team” made an impressive showing (28.5%) but their majestic moves across the ocean were not enough to topple Eren (53.6%) for chapter MVP. Historia (8.1%), Zeke (5%), and Annie (3.5%) also received some love.

EREN IS THE GOAT

Eren is the worst boy in the world.

EREN JAEGER GENOCIDAL MANIAC

I really missed Historia, so it was nice to see her.

can the rumbling start a synchronized aquatic dance?

WHAT DOES THE CHAPTER TITLE "DAWN FOR HUMANITY" REFER TO?

I thought of it as some sort of "End of the world" titling.

Dunno; but it doesn't really work if the rest of the world gets rumbled, does it?

I want to see the japanese title to decide

Eren wants to kill “animals” to give a new life to “humanity”

A dawn, or a beginning of a new day, has arrived. Whether this new day is a good or a bad one for humanity, we do not yet know. Everything is still possible, but once this day is over, the world as we know it is no longer here, for better or worse.

A new age for humanity is incoming. The story will end as a tragedy with Eren achieving his goal.

Dawn means the start of the day. So I think the start of the rumbling will be the start of humanity for this world. I think we started to see this with the world fleet being there to try stop eren. I believe every country is helping people flee regardless of race. Maybe I'm just too idealistic.

Ce chapitre fait reference au fait qu’eren est pret a tout pour sauver ses amis

Eren will achieve his goal (end the cycle of hatred)

Hope for humanity outside the walls. Dawn for me is something like hope, even if today was a bad day, tomorrow, after dawn, things might get better. Maybe the Warriors-Paradis alliance will somehow reach Eren and stop the Rumbling?

dunno but got the vibes of ‘it’s darkest before the dawn’ might be a tip for a change coming

Eren has now officially started eradicating the world and also it's dark ideas against people on paradise and conquering freedom for his people and that is why this moment onwards is "the dawn of humanity "

Dawn for Eldians to be exact. Dusk for Marleyans.

Finally defeating Eren, ending the curse of Ymir and freeing everyone from the shadow of Titan powers.

Dawn of Terror? Dawn of "What The FUCK Is That??" Dawning that the remaining places of humanity are to be trampled?

It could refer to a ""dawn"" for the alliance, who intend for neither side of the conflict to be eradicated, as they believe everyone is part of ""humanity"". Despite their deliberation at the beginning of the chapter, the fact that they're finally setting sail to stop Eren is testament that they've not lost their hope in the pursuit of this ideal, hence they can be interpreted to be the ""dawn"".

Eldians in Paradis Island being free from the wrath of outsiders and being avenged

I think it refers to a new beginning a new start for the eldians living on the island or it can be used as an ironic way that the humanity outside the walls is going to end so it's complete destruction hence the beginning of the new cycle

The Rumbling & Historia's child, humanity's destruction and its rebirth

Continuation of "End's Eve" as this is the dawn of the day where humanity fights for its continued existence

"Dawn" refers to Humanity's realisation of many things. Eg: how Eldia is not a weak nation, how the Rumbling wasn't a lie, how people are people and they are all the same - wanting to live and shedding the same blood no matter what nationality they have. "Humanity" refers to those still alive and realizing these things.

Dawn of the final day - 24 hours remain

WHAT ARE THE FUTURE IMPLICATIONS OF ANNIE DECIDING SHE'S TIRED OF FIGHTING AND NO LONGER WANTS TO STOP EREN?

Despite learning that her hometown is doomed, just over half of respondents feel confident Annie will stay the course and continue to work with the alliance. Among the rest of responses, 27.4% think this will trigger Annie’s exodus, selecting “Annie will leave the alliance and try to be with her father,” 16.9% believe this will cause Annie to do something stupid resulting in her death, and lastly 4% of the fandom believe this bad news will trigger Annie’s homicidal instincts causing her to switch sides and join Eren.

Annie saying she didn't want to have to be prepared to fight mikasa, Connie, armin, jean, Reiner and eren again made me feel sad for her ;-;

I just wanna say that it wouldn't make any sense for Isayana to bring Annie back and then write her out so it's obvious she will continue in the alliance lol (but I don't really agree with any of the options offered, I think she will decide by herself to stay)

Poor Annie's breakdown made me feel terrible for her. I still think she wants to leave but I think there are chances of the Warriors and/or Armin convincing her to stay and fight. As one of the nine shifters, she kinda has the responsibility to fight, even if she doesn't want to, and I get completely why she doesn't want to, poor thing. I have a sneaky suspicion that she might choose Porco's way out and we might yet see a new holder of the Female Titan power. :(

WHAT WILL BE THE FATES OF THE ELDIANS IN LIBERIO, SPECIFICALLY THE WARRIORS' FAMILIES?

When asked about the residents of Liberio and the fate of the Warriors’ families, a combined 58% believe that they are alive for the moment selecting that they were evacuated (39.3%) or else managed to escape (18.4%). Close to 30% aren’t so optimistic, believing Liberio is flattened and they are dead. We also had plenty of write in responses:

They are going to die, but I can see Annie meeting her father and die together in each others arm by the rumbling. It's sad I know, but it would be a fitting end for both of them :(

They are probably arrive. Either they overcame the Marleyan authorities that tried to surpress, or The Rumbling avoided Liberio entirely. I just doubt they would kill off Mr. Leonhardt offscreen.

They may have started to fight the Marleyans and then ended up flattened by the titans since they didn't escape earlier.

They took a ship to the south and we will meet them including Reiner's family and Mr. Leonhart.

Am I supposed to feel sorry for these people? I don't. The Warriors don't deserve happy endings for everything they have done.

Bands of survivors have made it out but Annie will meet her dad when he is dead or dying

some died while revolting, some are alive, annie's dad is wounded

They're currently fineish because Eren didn't go where Hange was expecting, hence why all their estimations have been off

I mean, they must be alive somehow. It seemed that there were only soldiers in Liberio and the others evacuated so I'm hopeful that at least Annie's father survived

I want to have hope ;-;

I just want Annie to see her father again, and for Reiner to get what he wants.

What if the city Eren attacked isn't Liberio? I feel like it's too important to be flattened just like that (thematical resonance + too many side-characters like Eren's own grandfather are there) and we're being misled about the place Eren is attacking.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT HISTORIA'S STANCE ON THE RUMBLING?

Many of us had expectations about Historia going into this chapter. Her initially disagreeing outright with the rumbling but seemingly giving in was a surprise to 8.4% who thought she would have been all for it all along, and 19.9% who never expected her to agree with it at all. 6.4% of you expected her to do the opposite of what is implied, with agreeing at first but changing her mind in the conversation, while 23.3% reported expecting the exact turn of events. However, a huge 41.5% of you aren’t taking everything at face value and do not believe Historia does or has ever supported the rumbling.

DO YOU BELIEVE EREN IS THE FATHER?

After almost 2 years of the fandom fighting over the identity of Historia’s baby daddy, this chapter has finally definitively proven that… we still know nothing. Nonetheless, the narrowly winning belief (37%) is that Eren is the father, closely followed by those who believe he is not the father (34.4%). Some are unsure what to make of the situation (18.2%), and some of you don’t care enough to speculate (10.4%).

there is a TON of hints, him being the father makes prefect sense.

i will bet on my freedom that eren is the father

Historia x Eren ftw!

Eren being the father would be the most meaningful for both the story, as well as for Eren and Historia and their chemistry together if you ask me, though I can accept otherwise.

Whoever disagrees eren is the father doesn't read the manga seriously

I have not any positive thoughts about Eren-Historia's flashback. Just pain, I feel pain for her. I don't get the point to destroy her character like that.

I really hope Eren isn’t the father — it just doesn’t seem right.

I don't believe Eren is the father since it will contradict what he said to Zeke: "I'm only left with 4 years"

Sorry shippers, I don't think we'll ever get a straight answer about who's the father. But I kinda prefer it that way, because then we'll each get to decide what we thinks is correct.

IF YOU DONT STOP THIS I WANNA MAKE BABIES WITH YOU

Still don't care about who's the father

Who is the father?

HOW HAVE YOUR FEELINGS ON THIS CHANGED DUE TO THIS CHAPTER?

35% went into the chapter thinking Eren was not the father and 30% believing he was, with this chapter doing nothing to change their minds. For those who were affected, this chapter influenced 14.2% to join the team #DaddyEren and 5.6% to burn their membership card. The remaining 15% don’t care enough to speculate.

If Eren is the father, I think it's possible Historia wanted his baby to keep a part of him with her after the rumbling is over, or perhaps it was an attempt to make him want to come back when he's done or even not commit genocide.

why does everyone keep saying Eren is the Father confirmed? There is literally no evidence to support that, and it actually contradicts Erens statement when Zeke discusses Mikasas feelings towards him.

I just want Eren to be the father

Historia's pregnancy smacks of her own plan but I'm not sure Eren is on board with it.

I want confirmation on the father cause if it's not eren ima be pissed off

don't care who the father is, whole world is ending.

I can't stand the mystery surrounding Historia's pregnancy anymore, this is worse than serum bowl.

WHO THE FUCK IS THE FATHER

SO THEN WHAT'S THE REAL DEAL WITH HISTORIA'S PREGNANCY?

“What’s the deal with Historia’s pregnancy?” Jerry Seinfeld asks. But we cannot answer – we can only sustain ourselves on memes and ship wars. Despite Eren and Historia’s somewhat uneasy conversation, a solid third of you are still pretty sure that Eren is the baby’s father. A little over a fifth of you think she did the dirty with Farmer-kun instead. And another fifth is convinced something else is going on (watermelon baby?), but aren’t sure what. Some of you scream to the sky, sick of all the drama. And a few of you wouldn’t rule out a baby created through PATHS. It might be Ymir’s doing! No, not that Ymir. THAT Ymir.

Historia is playing 5d chess I just know it. I just don't know how yet

Why'd Historia act like that if Eren wasn't the father?

ymir is the father

Eren has to be the father for the good dev of eren & historia characters

I really hope the pregnancy thing is just a red herring, but it wouldn't be the first-time Isayama appealed to fan-service if not.

If I see more speculation on whether Eren is the father I'm gonna puke. I mean how about focus on the real story? Like how the world is about to be destroyed??

We need more Historia. We literally need her POV for the story to make sense right now. I can't believe that with ""5% of the plot"" left Isayama is *still* pulling this all this time? There *has* to be more.

I always knew Mikasa was the father

WHY DO YOU THINK HISTORIA IS PROPOSING A PREGNANCY?

Despite a majority of respondents believing the pregnancy is authentic, there is no consensus as to why Historia would propose it. The most popular answer when asked was “I don’t know” (32.2%). The remainder of the fandom is split between Historia proposing the pregnancy in support of Eren (23.1%), as part of an alternative plan (21%) or as an act of defiance against Eren (17.6%). Only a small percentage (6.1%) believe she actually wants a child.

What the hell is the pregnancy for? It doesnt make any sense for Historia to suggest that all of a sudden

How did getting eren and historia's conversation make things more confusing😔Like what went through historia's mind when she thought of having a baby i-

What if the "what if I have a child" scene with Historia actually happened EARLIER than the rest of the conversation? It would explain why they switched places, and if Eren really is the father, would explain why he feels he has such a say in Historia's child's future ("even if you agree, I don't" ) , and why when he spoke about the MPs he said "WE have two options: fight or run". It would also give him a motivation to oppose his friends, since they are trying to stop him.

I don't see his conversation with Historia in romantic light. She was scared of him and Eren was trying to manipulate her with her own words about being ""the worst girl on the world"". We still miss some important parts of their conversation, but if she agreed to help him because he reminded her how ""the worst girl"" she was, then I would be very disappointed. I saw her as strong woman and I hope she will not turn to be a mild sheep who isn't brave enough to follow Ymir's wish and ""live her life with pride"" (or ""live sticking her chest out"").

I have no idea for which purpose Historia want to become pregnant, but I'm glad that I was right that she decide it for herself and doesn't get forced at all!

Historia has a trick up her sleeve and I can't wait to see what it is.

WE LEARNED WHAT ZEKE REALLY TOLD EREN ABOUT THE ACKERBOND. ARE YOU SATISFIED WITH EVERYTHING WE HAVE LEARNED ABOUT THE ACKERMAN CLAN?

75% of the fandom wants more resolution to the Ackermysteries with 38.4% wanting MOAR and 32.3% wanting at least a little more. Only 22.3% are satisfied with the ackercrumbs we’ve been tossed and 7% have no opinion.

love guru zook

ackerman bond means LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!! sweet for all ackerman related shippers ohhhh

I'm satisfied to see yet another example of people trying to pin eren's BS onto zeke (with the ackerman theories) be proven completely wrong

Mikasa's charachter wouldve been a lot more interesting if her ackerman genes had an effect on her decision making and her trying to overcome them would be a lot more intriguing to see. Instead it turned out to be some lovey dovey pancake bullshit. I mean what would Zeke even know about Mikasa??

WHAT IS UP WITH HISTORIAS PREGNANCY AND ACKERMANS BLOOD AHHHHH

I think the fact that the Ackermans can access the Paths without being shifters is going to be super relevant. My pet theory is that Mikasa will be able to cross into the Paths dimension to kill Eren and truly free Ymir Fritz, but let's see how that goes.

HOW ACCURATE WAS ZEKE'S ASSESSMENT OF MIKASA'S FEELINGS TOWARD EREN?

One of the few areas of agreement in this chapter was with Zeke’s assessment of Mikasa’s feelings towards Eren. Close to 80% think that despite having never met Mikasa in person, Zeke correctly understands that Mikasa’s concern for Eren has little to do with genetics and everything to do with reasons of the heart. However, the majority of people who took the option of writing in their answer cited both as a factor in Mikasa’s bond.

Eren, when your sadistic and bloodthirsty big bro can see how much Mikasa loves you, you probably should take it seriously lol

Zeke. Is. Big. Bro

He's a lying liar who lies.

usually when panels sway to the right, they are true, so I believe this is the case.

Did anybody honestly not already know this? We learned nothing new from this as far as I'm concerned.

Mikasa really cares for Eren but the Ackerman genes amplify her love for him.

Everybody's emotional attachments have some basis in biology. It doesn't make them any less real or meaningful

we learn Zeke ships eremika 🤔unexpected but naice

The ackerman blood does boost her physical abilities but i believe it doesn't affect her mentally (she probably has ptsd and seperation anxiety)

What is between Eren and Mikasa?There is something we still Dont know.I wish for more Mikasa....

I think the bond itself is clearly related to her trauma but the intensity of it probably has more to do with her Ackerman genes

Both ? Even tho Ackerman genes could have a big part in it

I think Mikasa loves Eren but it's not JUST romantic or JUST familial.

Her devotion is strong on its own- but her Ackerman abilities definitely have played a role in her saving his ass all these years.

Very accurate, he is Love Master Zook.

Only a fool believe that shit regarding Ackerman bonds and so on. [...] The hate speech I believe is some kind of Eren pathetic attempt to release her of her feelings towards himself, just in case the worst scenario is coming up in not too far future.

The Ackerman instincts amplified her love towards Eren.

Zeke was right [...] As much as Mikasa being ready to snap titans necks in two for Eren is due to her love for him, Eren being willing to go through with a world genocide to prevent Historia's sacrifice definitely results from his love for her.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT THE PLACEMENT OF FLASHBACKS DURING THIS CHAPTER?

The majority of the fandom really enjoyed the inception-like flashbacks, but 1/5th just found it confusing as all hell. A sixth of the fandom is just fed up with Isayama blue-balling us. We’ve been in this relationship 10+ years, Yams, it’s time for you to give it up!

Loved the interwoven flashbacks, and made sense considering a lot of the "unknown" conversations(Eren with Yelena, Floch, Historia....) all tie into each other. Made sense to them like this, and plus there is still some mystery from his talk with Historia.

E-H convo should've been shown months ago; now is not the time for flashbacks.

Just Yams trolling the shippers

The confusing flashbacks also reflect Eren's state of mind. The placement was well done.

I don't mind it, but i feel Isayama was, to a certain degree, struggling to work all of this information organically into the story, so he was forced to choose this flashback method to get it out there.

The juxtaposition is very purposeful, while I don’t necessarily like what it implies, it is indeed impactful.

The way the flashbacks were placed would look amazing in the anime, but in manga format it looks a lot more confusing!

People might say this is Isayama being mysterious and showing us everything but revealing nothing as he always does, and yeah and if this was 10 chapters ago I might see that as a positive, but this late into the series it feels like it was just a waste of a chapter.

They were good because they connected with each-other; though I had to reread the chapter several times to distinguish who was talking because it flipped so much.

These kinds of chapters are slightly annoying in the moment, but are more than worth it in the long run.

The Historia flashbacks are confusing af

WHAT IS THE MEANING BEHIND EREN IMPLYING HE "WANTED THIS", REGARDING THE FUTURE OF THE RUMBLING?

Continuing Eren’s ongoing theme of the question of free will and determinism, this chapter presented us with the possibility that Eren wanted everything that has happened from the start. Depending on your interpretation, of course. The majority of respondents to this question (54.7%) believe that Eren has been convincing himself there was no other possible future due to seeing said future play out in front of his very eyes, and 17.1% somewhat similarly believe Eren did not want this in the conventional sense, and he is an unreliable narrator. A smaller 12% believe this is confirmation that Eren’s vengeful nature caused this, closely followed by 9.5% of you who just think he is a lunatic.

Despite him talking as if this future was fated to happen he still seems aware enough that his own decisions still led to this outcome. From his perspective all of this was meant to happen because he already saw his future memories, but he doesnt deny that the path he took was still by his own will.

Eren said from the start he would, "destroy them all." He hated being a slave. I think he *does want this. He wants whatever will guarantee freedom.

Both future can't be changed AND Eren is a fucking lunatic

Even if the future could be changed Eren preferred the full rumbling

He literally had no option from the very beginning , his actions is definitely justified .

it's probably all the attack titan's will, not his.

he's trying to fool himself into thinking he never changed

Eren has accepted that the future cannot be changed, and has realized that the unchangeable future is the future that he has always wanted

Eren is so close-minded & immature

I've given up trying to understand Eren's logic. It's just too bizarre. I will wait until the story is finished to form any opinion about him.

Eren was bored in his original universe and wanted humanity to have a threat so he made the aot universe via Ymir and became that threat himself.

Even if a significant part of Eren wants to eradicate his enemies out of rage/revenge, really deep down it’s been shown he wishes there was another solution but right now he doesn’t want to admit he’s surrendered to his destiny. So Isayama’s going to come back to this by having Eren admit to himself he isn’t really free/this isn't what he wants, which will be the culmination of his character arc (what will he do then?…).

Eren kinda forgot about the mothers

THIS BURST OF PANELS SHOWS A VARIETY OF SCENES FROM EREN'S POV, BUT SOME SCENES APPEAR TO BE FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE OR ENTIRELY NEW SCENES. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

Nearly 45% of the people who voted, thought it was a deus ex machina move from Founding Titan by Proxy, which granted Eren a glimpse at all Eldians’ memories. Almost a third think that Eren was actually able to control their memories. 14% of all voters are just “wtf…? I dunno” at all the Pathsnanigans.

I don't know and I don't like it. Hope it isn't another pathsfuckery while all I want in life is KRUEGER'S POV.

Eren's path shit also implies the story has always been bending to that moment too. From the pigs, to even Dina from that Bert shard. If it's ever revealed he orchestrated Carla's death to stimulate Grisha and Eren's hatred, the whole demonisation of RBA gets turned on his head.

I don't like the idea that Eren controlled the Smiling Titan but it's starting to feel more and more likely...

The second one except it WILL come up again cause it’s fucking Isayama like tf do you expect lmao

The new POV scenes are definitely intentional but I hope the explanation isn't some magical PATHS stuff where he orchestrated characters (like Dina's) actions or is suddenly an all-seeing almighty being. Grisha was enough pls.

DUDE, THIS MEANS THAT BIRD HAS P A T H S!

dumb answer choice

FT/Ymir lets Eren see the memories of all Eldians. It will come up again. I don't get some of the angles/perspectives though.

It's possible some of these things haven't happened yet, or that Eren has access to the memories of more shifters somehow. For example, Berthold might be a memory Annie or Reiner have and Eren will receive if he eats one of them while they try to stop him.

I have absolutely no idea what the deal is with the Falco and Bertolt memories but I'm sure they're not inconsistency errors considering the care that went into showing that the Mikasa/Grisha/Levi etc. panels are clearly from Eren's POV. I expect answers really soon (and no, I do not think he controlled Dina’s titan to kill Carla, that would be pure character assassination). Hange's panel looks like it's from the future, as well as Mikasa's unfamous 'see you later'. The geese are also interesting but I have no mindblowing theories about them unfortunately..

Excited to see from where Hange without glasses memories from though.

Eren is the air, the trees, the birbs, everything

Marcel is more like to come back from the dead before I ever understand half the shit inside Eren’s head.

If Eren somehow got his mother killed that'll be the ultimate bruh moment

THIS CHAPTER SHOWED US ANOTHER MEMORY OF FEZ-KUN, FINDING HIMSELF IN TROUBLE AGAIN. WHAT DO YOU THINK IS THE MEANING BEHIND HIS HIDDEN STORY?

The mystery of the Fez persists once again, with this being the tenth chapter since he was first shown. Though by a small margin, the consensus is that the purpose of his story is to reaffirm Eren’s determination to wipe out the world at 44.8%, with 33.4% of respondents believing he will be a tie to Eren’s compassion and remorse for what he is doing, and 17.1% believing it highlights Eren’s inherent hypocrisy for caring for him even though he will die by his actions later. Many write-in options expressed confusion at who this kid is.

Eren believes that suffering and oppression of minorities will never end just by small acts of kindness and simular "passive" acts, like what Levi did, it does not provide a long term solution or prevent Fez-kun'sfrom furder torments, which is why Eren feels like the extreme solution of the rumbling is his only option

Eren gave a mission to Fez-kun

Eren using another kid to get his way without caring about his life. What else is new.

He's the "even someone on the street" part of Kruger's advice to love someone to break the cycle of tragedy.

He’s showing that little boy he has to fight to survive, like he did with Mikasa when they were kids.

I think he found himself in trouble again (he looks to be bruised on the cheek in 120) and Eren will come to his rescue. However I think Eren will not just save him by beating up or killing the Marleyans, but inspiring the Fez kid to take action and "fight" just like he did with Mikasa. This arc has had a lot of focus on the almost inhumane level of violence Eren showed as a kid when killing those kidnappers, so I can see that being for the purpose of a direct parallel where Eren pressured the kid with the fez to stand up for himself.

I think Eren saved Fez-kun of those guys, but then he will kill him later, showing his own hypocrisy (those guys can't do bad to a child but I can).

I expect his shard(s) to contrast the other previously unknown panel from 120: Historia’s shard was revealed to be yet another instance of Eren manipulating a friend by putting his desires above her own, thus robbing her of her free-will. I hope that Fez-kun symbolizes the "beauty in a cruel world"

It show that Eren just have an other plan and not just kill everyone for no reason???? Lest not be that blind :) what esle u want to understund thats an option too? you want isayama to told u?

maybe eren intends for some people to escape when he announced the rumbling which allows people to prepare themselves, idk.

Eren will save their family and he told Fez to lead his family to a certain location that the rumbling won't reach?

What are all these crappy options? He represents Eren’s journey to changing his viewpoint about everyone being an enemy, as he told Reiner.

Just thought he was part of the collage of events, no further meaning.

Who’s Fez-kun

SWIMMING TITANS?

88% of you welcome your Swimming Titan overlords, but 12% aren’t so convinced - there’s a pretty even chance it’s because the image is just too absurd, too terrifying, or a pants-wetting combination of both.

SWIMMING TITANS

swimming titans

Seeing those colossal titans was crazy

The panel of the titan swimming underneath that ship haunts me in my dreams.

HELL YEAH FUCKING SWIMMING TITANS

WHEN THE MILITARY SIGHTS ERENSAURUS AT THE END, RATHER THAN CALLING IT THE FOUNDING TITAN OR EREN JAEGER, THEY RECOGNISE IT AS THE ATTACK TITAN. WHY?

Despite the threat of Eren Jaeger previously being referred to by name or as “the Founding Titan”, this chapter encapsulated the horror of the allied forces as they recognised it as the Attack Titan. The plurality (40.3%) is that this was just for the purpose of Isayama being able to drop a “Shingeki no Kyojin” in this climactic chapter, though a close second option (34%) is that there is historical information to distinguish the Attack Titan from the others. 15.2% of you believe the Attack Titan is the Titan Bogeyman for Marleyans, and 10.4% attribute the naming to the fact that it’s attacking them, duh.

I think the Maryleans/World Forces knew it was the Attack Titan bc of the Eldians in Marley (like Annie's dad) warning them ahead of time. I think once they realized The Rumbling was happening, they asked for more deets from the folks who heard Eren's message in the Path's Realm.

I wonder why the rest of the world was only using Mikasa ships instead of various ships lol

IT CAN'T BE STOPPED ANYMORE

NOW THAT WE FINALLY GOT TO SEE EREN'S SPINE-CHILLING (BADUM-TSS) FORM, WHAT DID YOU THINK?

This manga has turned into a horror show, and y’all seem to be loving it, according to over fifty percent. Thirty percent are aghast at the sight before them, and nearly a tenth of you don’t really know what to think of the Grim Reaper titan yet. Some of you wanted something more fully formed, but this creepy crawly is freaky enough, isn’t it? Let’s just be glad none of us live in Marley right now.

My jaw dropped when I saw Eren’s titan form. Horrific.

I love Erensaurus a lot. This chapter gave the same level of anxiety that Zeke's attack in Shiganshina gave me. Good

YEAH EREN IS SCARY AS FUCK I LOVE IT MORE FREEDOM MORE FREEDOM MORE FREEDOM

Eren's titan looks a little like the earth devil

Did Eren pick the design of his new Titan or did Ymir just give it to him?

Really interested in where it is going especially because Eren's Titan got lips which could be an indicator for it to have the ability to speak

Eren’s Founding Titan form looks like something out of Silent Hill

I'm not saying anything about Eren's titan. What even the actual fuck, Yams

Oh lawd he comin

WHY IS EREN'S CURRENT TITAN FORM A SKELETON WITH NO FLESH?

Eren is looking awfully spooky right now. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? I guess looking like a death metal album cover is better than looking like whatever Rod Reiss was supposed to be. 34.9% figure that as this is probably the largest titan ever, it’s just too big for flesh. It’s not like PATHS sand is infinite, after all. 34.6% think that the form is incomplete because of the missing titan powers; this is only a third of his potential scariness! 23% think there’s no real reason he looks like this. Not an in-story reason anyway. Finally, 7.6% think Eren is still not done forming this devilish beast.

Eren's upper skeleton body thing looks like wings of freedom...

The reason Eren's body was like this, if he was muscular, he would radiate a lot of heat, so the Allience's couldn't reach him. But now, no muscle, no heat. They can reach easily.

Eren's form is creepy as hell! I also think he might be dead/dying/the titan now.

Seriously, how the fuck does Eren's Titan move?

When a shifter generates a titan body, they need to have a special task or purpose in mind. Is Eren's titan meant to be a bridge between Paradis Island and the continent?

WHAT IS ISAYAMA TRYING TO SAY WITH THE PUPPET-LIKE MOTIF OF EREN'S TITAN?

Many have noticed the puppet-like strings connecting Eren’s torso and head to his stegosaurus spikes in the final panel (though not in the first shot we get of Eren -- we’ll just ignore that), but what does it mean? Him being a slave to himself (38%) just edged out him being a slave to fate (36.7%), with a slim minority (3.3%) believing Ymir could be the true puppeteer. Of course, there are the 21.9% of you who are remaining steadfast in the belief that Eren is NOT a slave, he is FREE.

He is a slave to the future memories and instead of trying to find a different way, he is convincing himself that this is what he wants from the start to compensate for how little freedom he has.

He's trying to justify to himself that he isn't a slave

Eren is a slave to that sweet sweet feeling of self-righteous rage.

Ymir might be acting through Eren.

I think eren has become a vessel for ymir and it's ymirs will that we're hearing.

WHERE IS EREN'S HUMAN BODY MOST LIKELY RESIDING?

The results for this are a mixed bag, with the three most popular answers extremely close in votes. It’s most agreed upon (29.1%) that Eren has no human form, and has merged with the Titan on some level, with a close second (28.8%) being him being separated from the Titan but not in the conventional sense, and using the Warhammer Titan power to operate it from the ocean. 27.9% of you believe he is in the standard position of the nape, and only 14.2% of you believe the head of the Attack Titan could be his true location.

So, does Eren now only have his head left or was he fully healed thanks to Ymir?

where is Eren (No,not his titan)? There is no nape on that thing, just bone

I NEED TO KNOW HOW EREN IS TRANSPORTING HIMSELF

THE CHAPTER ENDS WITH CHILD EREN'S DETERMINATION TO "DESTROY THEM" OVERLAPPING WITH ADULT EREN COMMANDING THE RUMBLING. WHICH STATEMENT IS THE MOST ACCURATE REGARDING THIS COMPARISON?

This curious panelling choice ends the chapter, giving us a peek at Eren’s inner monologue – but in true Isayama fashion it’s not clear exactly what it means. 45.6% believe it shows that Eren hasn’t fundamentally changed the way he views the world, his will and titan powers giving him the means to influence it. 26.4% think it’s a reminder of Eren’s tragic tendency to believe that peace cannot exist without the complete elimination of an opposing force. 16.8% think it demonstrates Eren’s willing or unwilling continuation of the cycle of hatred and revenge. Finally, 9.1% think there’s a hint here that Eren’s childhood self was cursed with thoughts from his future mind.

ALL OF THE ABOVE

All of the above, minus the P A T H S.

I hate eren do the same thing as what he had been through

It's Eren's tendency to lose himself to the desire for vengeance, which in the mange is always depicted as leading to a catastrophe in the end.

His childhood trauma comes back to him when he sees a loved one die / about to die and feels the powerlessness of having been unable to do anything because of being weak. Then pain and anger return for this reason

It's a parallel showing his determination to fight back against those who would deny he and his comrades their freedom.

It is once again Eren reassuring himself he's doing what's right, by telling himself that the cycle of hatred is what's causing this and that he needs to break it

The thoughts are child Eren, simply overlapping with the current situation. It may not be adult Eren’s thoughts.

THIS BITCH CRAZY.

I just want to say that the history is repeating its self . What we thought it was the past it's actually the future

He is using this memory of his mother being eaten to motivate himself, like a main drive. It's not the first time. Anger/Rage was always the main drive that he used to keep fighting/seeking for freedom

This is already similar to some of the options presented, but I like the idea that this is showing deep down he is driven by his childlike rage, and as much as he tries to convince himself it's for his friends, he really just wants to revel in violence because he's broken and he thinks wiping everyone out is the only way he will be at peace.

THIS CHAPTER ALSO PRESENTED US WITH TWO ALMOST DICHOTOMIC MOTIVATIONS FOR EREN, BETWEEN LOVE FOR HIS FRIENDS AND HATE FOR THE ENEMY, BUT WHICH DO YOU BELIEVE IS THE STRONGER DRIVING FORCE?

The two most powerful and conflicting emotions driving Eren right now have the fanbase somewhat split over what pushes him further. It seems that most are optimistic about Eren’s prime motivation being the wellbeing of his friends at 59.7%. Meanwhile 40.3% believe that Eren’s love for his friends has been eclipsed by the roiling hatred and thirst for vengeance within him. Even at this point in the story, it’s hard to be absolutely certain – safe to say Eren is a real menace when he feels this strongly about anything.

I feel like I finally fully understand Eren's mindset, even though there is probably still more to his POV. He just wants his friends to be happy and live long lives, so he had to push them away especially after Sasha's death.

This chapter Eren can't disentangle love from fear/hate/loss due to what happened to his mother, which is why his feelings about his friends now manifest so destructively.

Eren's memory chain went from remembering his friends smiling, to Sasha's death and Fez-kun being beat up, and eventually to his mother's death and his vow to kill all titans, showing that deep down he knows his motivation to protect his friends is bullshit and that his "enemies" are mostly innocents, but he keeps moving forward due to hatred and revenge.

Eren has never healed his trauma. It was "eating" him slowly and turned him into this he hated the most - a devilish monster.

I think the chapter settled very well that revenge surpass even his wish of protect his friends

The transition to Eren's pov and the fact we didn't learn anything new beside some basic confirmations, is really strange. And if Eren ends killing the friends he wanted to protect, he will be a complete disappointment. I really am afraid of SnK's ending.

"I want my friends to live long happy lives" he says after treating them like shit, breaking their spirit, and partially ruining their home island with millions of titans. I hope he doesn't act surprised when they show up to stop him (assuming they can catch up of course).

I don't believe the word "animals" align with Eren's current perspective, nor how he sees his "enemies". He holds the same ideals as he did as a child, but realises the nuance of his enemies and how people on both sides are ultimately the same. He just believes this radical action is the only necessary way to end an unstoppable inter-generational conflict in his lifetime so these problems aren't handed down to future generations anymore.

he's being driven both by hatred and love, but right now his rage is winning and he's using the safety of his friends and Eldia as an excuse to appease his conscience.

ON A SCALE FROM "SECRET PLAN" TO "KILL 'EM ALL", WHERE DO YOU STAND ON EREN'S TRUE INTENTIONS?

This chapter all but confirmed that Eren indeed plans to wipe out the entire outside world for most of the fandom. The majority are skewed towards the opinion of Eren definitely rumbling everything, with less and less respondents holding onto hope that Eren has an alternate plan.

Eren wants this rumbling and he's ready to sacrifice others to get what he wants, even his friends.

I gotta say, I thought Eren would've had a real plan that wasn't just massacring everyone else on the planet. I was already against the plan, but I suspected he'd walk the other side of the ocean and then announce to the world that the existence of titans was no more and destroy all the titans as proof, and all the shifters would just be normal people again.

His goal is to wipe the titans out of this world, and not to flatten it.

I support the rumbling, cause Marley deserved this by trying to eliminate Paradis, but at the same time there are so many good people there(including eldians themselves) that haven't done anything wrong. Military and leaders of marley should be eliminated, but not the poor people that had no choice.

This hateful world is needed to be purged and I support Eren for this. And when Rumbling is over that beast piece of sh** must die by Levi's hand.

I thought eren had a secret plan for the rumbling but after getting his pov this chapter looks like he really is going for it

Somehow, I can't shake off the feeling that we still haven't seen 100% of Eren's plan, there is still some twist waiting. I am not trying to justify Eren's current actions, it's more like ""if there is something that will throw this whole scenario upside down it better come up soon, because right now IT DOESN'T LOOK GOOD"".

I want to believe thtat Eren has a secret plan in the rumbling but the chapter says that this is what he wanted, he had always been like this, he was always “free” sadly, he’s enslaved by his beliefs of freedom that he resorts to these drastic measures.

I think that this chapter confirms two things: one, the Rumbling is Eren's true plan [...] BUT two, there is "something beyond that hell", which is the "scenery" Eren says he saw in ch. 121. I think it's the endgame after the Rumbling is stopped (no way is it going to be completed), and it's what caused both Grisha and Historia to go along with his plan in the end even though they didn't agree with it and thought it was awful. Eren's "everything is still ahead" and the weird cut in Historia's flashback are too... strange and seem to point to this being a game changer and the final plot point of the series.

If the rumble will succeed, then I've spent 7 chapters seeing characters do nothing to accomplish nothing. I don't wanna feel my time wasted.

I unironically want Eren to kill everyone outside the walls. Nuff said.

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THE REPEATED BIRD IMAGERY?

Birds are a focal point of this chapter, with the combination of a four-panel tracking of a soaring seagull and a flash of a memory of some nearby geese. The majority of respondents (62.5%) believe the birds simply tie into the theme of, and likely Eren’s motivation of freedom. In a distant second (20.9%) is the answer that it relates to the idea of everyone being connected under the same sky, a fitting motif amidst this chapter’s exploration of the conflict as well as unity of different groups. 12.7% of you are hopping on board the “Eren is a bird now” train, and 4% of you just really don’t like birds.

The two birds from the Paths panels appear in episode 1 of the anime iirc, not sure about the manga though.

Eren is bird confirmed thank <°^°>

I like the Bird Theory that says he’s transferring his consciousness to a bird. yeah it sounds a bit odd but it’s interesting and I’m willing to accept anything at this point

The birds are secret surveillance cameras

I like birds

idk man this shit is confusing as hell.as for falco thing i think eren has become the bird. anything can happen at this point.

Eren is the Eagle we see in the chapter 91 that Falco says to fly away lmao

THIS CHAPTER HAD SOME AMAZING ART, SHOWCASED IN THE MANY DOUBLE SPREADS (EXACTLY 9... OH GOD WHAT DOES IT MEAN ISAYAMA??) WHICH WAS YOUR FAVORITE DOUBLE SPREAD?

Whether it was the break back in May, or Isayama’s dedication to highlighting this chapter’s importance, the art has definitely taken a step up and blown us all away. Though it is very split, the final double spread showcasing the commencing of the rumbling garnered the most votes (18.2%). At second (15.7%) was the imposing silhouettes of colossal titans rising from the ocean, and at a very close third (15.5%) was the very next spread, of these titans wiping out the battleships as casually as if they were wading through seaweed. If there’s one thing to make of this from what the winners have in common, we have all definitely been waiting to see the rumbling for a while.

Isayama's improvement as an artist it's inspirational.

the art is god tier

Those Rumbling pages are so gorgeous they make me wanna say "Kill them all, Eren ! Destroy the fucking world !"

Mappa has their work cut out for themselves

MAPPA's fucked lol I hope they're up to the task.

That Attack Titan spread has the single GREATEST bit of shading in this entire manga.

Solid Art, phenomenal design and usage of double spreads

I just wanted to add that this is visually one of the most beautiful chapters I've seen in a while. The colossals, holy shit. I can't wait to see this animated. All of those double-page spreads were pretty fantastic but I have to say there's nothing quite like the chill that runs down your spine when you see all those colossals emerging from the smoke and the mist, where you see for the first time how huge and terrible they are (and also when you realise the first line of defense is already down). I had legit goosebumps.

CHAPTER 130 MARKS THE END OF A VOLUME, WHICH HAS BEEN FILLED WITH ALLIANCE-FOCUSED CHAPTERS. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS NOW THAT WE'VE FINALLY RETURNED TO EREN?

After six consecutive chapters focusing on the alliance with no Eren, the majority of you (57.6%) are relieved to finally move beyond the alliance, though have enjoyed the recent chapters, with 20.4% being completely over the alliance. 7.4% say they were originally sceptical but the chapters did well to make the alliance likeable to them, and 14.6% are open to more chapters just focused on the alliance.

Please for the love of God more of this and less of the alliance, the alliance was so rushed and as it's continued it hasn't been developed much further beyond plot convenience. The less of that I have to read before I get to read amazing stuff like 130 the better

i wanted more on the alliance, not flashbacks smh

it was something enjoyable after a while. Especially 126 made me grimace all over the volume till 130 came up. Not saying I was waiting for Eren but it was so cheesy.

Eren chapters are written worse than Alliance ones

This chapter single handedly made up for the below average, cringe-inducing chapters 126-129 Alliance bullshit. I have faith Isayama will create a very satisfying ending for this series now.

This chapter was legit a great way to end the volume off, it truly feels like its really the beginning of the end

DESCRIBE THIS CHAPTER IN ONE WORD

The top 5 write-ins are below, followed by the average chapter score for each description. This months’ average chapter score was 4.59.

Amazing [4.89]

Epic [4.84]

Eren/Ereh [4.69]

Rumbling [4.46]

Confusing [3.88]

Honorable mention: Ragnarok

We’d also like to mention that there were a lot of write-ins related to genitals and coitus… seems like y’all were really hyped up by that first fanlation >.>

WHAT ARE YOU MOST HOPING TO SEE NEXT CHAPTER?

Despite this chapter theoretically giving us everything we had hoped for in a while, the responses show that we still want to have WAY MORE answers (34.6%), MORE Historia (16.9%) and MORE rumbling action (14.5%). We’d also like to know where on earth Zeke is and if Floch is going to be the little troublemaker that we know and have strong feelings about. Will the boat make it to Odiha? Will Levi do a thing? Stay tuned!

There's still some mystery that have yet to answer and I want answers

Where the fuck is Zeke

WHERE. IS. LEVI.

i want more eren, historia and zeke. They're interesting. I don't care about the alliance.

"Zekey-dekey-doo, where are you?" ...I'm so done with you guys.

need update on zeke and historia's situation.

I want it to end soon #TeamEren

I expect in the next chapter something more around the alliance and maybe (hopefully) Floch's comeback!

Enough of Hisu, she is just a side character.

Want more Rumbling

All I can say is, I'm beyond anxious to see how the series ends, and it's eating me up inside.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES?

Most of our lovely respondents are rambunctious Redditors as usual, followed by a fair few from the flock on Twitter, distinguished Discorders, and discussors who want for nothing. Then there are some ravishing real-lifers, titillating Tumblrites, ...aaaand the rest (you’re all great). We’re still side-eyeing you Snapchatters though.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER?

Honestly I just wanna let it out, but not on google Poll for obvious reasons

Not about the chapter... but you guys always come up with funny answers that I feel compelled to chose even if it’s not really what I think. I love to answer this. Thank you!

Zeke the relationship expert, huh?

This chapter went through far too many dodgy translations for its own good, and even the official typeset had one big mistake in it even though it conveyed the mood of the convo between Eren and Historia far better than all the others.

this is all so confusing I miss erwin

I don't want genocide to be how this ends. I believe Isayama doesn't intend a story this complex to send a message that genocide is great. Considering some of the mindscrews he's already pulled via Paths, I'm hoping the best mindscrew is yet to come.

Reiner was a snacc

Historia the Antifascist Queen

This is the best chapter

this series is so great man

This whole chapter was a certified Bruh moment (in a good way)

This whole chapter was about Eren dehumanising. And he killed his mom. I wouldn't be surprised if he'll eventually want to kill all Eldians and his friends either.

Loved everything except for Historian's forced reluctant pregnancy.

Here's to 3 more weeks

I hope Eren doesn’t love anyone from the series.

I feel like Isayama is still increasing the pressure to help his final plot twist, I’m still lost as I really don’t agree with Eren’s actions while I see the fandom going crazy over him. Maybe I missed something, maybe I’m wrong, maybe I don’t fully understand Eren. This chapter felt good, I don’t hate the Alliance because they’re part of what I think is the right choice for humanity, but we all honestly wanted to know Eren’s thoughts or a bit of it, as we didn’t see him for a while. English isn’t my first language I’m sorry in advance, loved your poll

I honestly have no idea what's going to happen and the whole time I was reading it I was internally screaming.

Ok I know Ymir (the lesbian) has been dead for years but I miss her so much. She was the dad. Forget Farmer-kun, forget Eren, it was all Ymir.

okay no offense but where’s Levi ☹️

One big tease of erens pov and who the father is

One of the best chapter I ever read! Love it!

Didn't expect the Eren POV but welcomed it anyway. We now have confirmation he wanted everything that happened to happen and even the implication he orchestrated the death of his own mother. That's very tasty

Eren's pov has been hidden for too long and right now I don't think the payoff is worth it

eren exhibits bird behavior & he killed his mom 😕

Eren is a bird confirmed or some shit

Eren later takes Ymir's place in Paths as a sacrifice for many years to fix everything, learning everything he needs by traveling around as, say, birds, as needed to send to his past self to guarantee "that scenery"

Eren is in control of more than we previously thought and this shows evidence of a timeloop scenario

Eren can see the future and can probably manipulate the pure titans at different points in time like the Founder does. It's also likely he's gonna fuse with more shifters to visit other pieces of memory.

Eren is able to use the full power of the FT, that why he can see not only his own memories, but also the memories of other Eldians. All of them are connected to him after all.

He will turn into a bird in the end

So exited that we finally got to see Eren in his Founding Titan-like form!!!! Can’t wait for next month (AoT fan from Japan)

Enjoyed the chapter due to a return to debating the morality of the Rumbling, and seeing it in progress. Also tend to enjoy interaction between Eren and Historia. However, I think the chapter is slightly let down by being cryptic. It's hard to tell what is going on with Eren due to how scenes from this issue and others can be interpreted.

nah mate do people actually read this?

This chapter marks something that has changed everyone's thoughts. Not just about Eren, but Annie, Historia, Zeke, etc. We heard them speak differently, and got a few answers to our questions. We got to see that Annie does indeed have emotions. That Historia did not want this. That Annie never really wanted to kill, nor does she want to anymore. That Zeke actually cared for Eren. That the father is most likely farmer-kun. It's one of the best chapters we've had. Each chapter we get, we get closer to the end of this wonderful story. I can't wait to see what Isayama has planned for in the final chapters. Truly hoping for the best!

reiner's tits dammit

Despite the devastation, I now feel like there is meaning hidden beneath the madness

Creepy and interesting chapter. The official translation confirms further that Eren is going to destroy the world. I’m hoping that the next volume shifts focus to Reiner a little more. I’m also excited for more loose ends to be cleared up.

Damn, only 5 more to go before the end of the greatest story of all time

Enjoyed it but I’m really hoping for some more insight into what’s going on with both eren and historia, I’m not a huge fan of the pregnancy subplot

eren just wants to see if marleyans are made of cake

Eren makes the most amazing villain ever. Will go down as one of my favorite characters ever if the story ends how I hope it will.

Everyone forgets Historia saw her dad’s memories without eating him, without being a shifter, and without touching Eren. We’re still waiting for the payoff...

Fantastic chapter, though it felt really short

Floch was Eren's lieutenant all along, he was his representative, and his actions are therefore Eren's responsability all the same. Get fucked those who didn't want to believe that Eren would consciously choose Floch, believe in him or to set things up for Eren in Paradis.

I'd like it if the Ackerbond was not as supernatural as it was claimed before. Not because of EreMika, MikaHisu would be much better than both options of this chapter. Now we know that Levi or Kenny's loyalty were real, and it warms my heart. Also, my bastard wasn't lying! He knew about the plan.

It confirmed everything we already knew: Historia didn't support Eren's plan, Ackerman weren't slaves, Mikasa's feelings for Eren doesn't have to do with the fact she's an Ackerman and the fandom is stupid for still believing Eren is the father despite him literally telling Zeke that he can't answer Mikasa's feelings, because he only has 4 years left to live.

My heart was beating so hard during Eren and Historia's conversation because I just couldn't believe we were actually seeing her again, it had been 2 years since we got anything this relevant from her and I also just really wanted Isayama to get on with it and tell us who the damm father was so that we could finally move on to other things. I still don't believe it's Eren, but I'm done with that theory, man. No more teasing, please. Two years is far more than enough.

Chapters like this one, which perfectly captures the culmination of Eren's entire journey, make me glad to be alive at this moment in time to experience Isayama's masterpiece. I'm not ready for this story to end in just one more volume.

The ending of this story will not be a gentle tapping of the brakes but a screeching halt followed by hydroplaning and crashing into a ditch

What if the rumbling is all one big sex reveal party for Historia's baby and the Colossal Titans are arranging all the corpses into a female symbol or something.

For 8 months I have been waiting for Eren Jaeger. My favorite fictional character ever. He comes back in best way possible, wow.

Great chapter, too bad half of this dumb fandom misunderstood it and are falsely claiming it confirmed Eren as the father. *facepalm*

Obligatory mention that eren is a manipulative bastard and is a little too far gone in his goal

Ambiguity: The chapter. More questions than answers, no way this ends in 4 chapters. Overall we are all going "Wuh?" like Historia after this chapter.

We are being fucked with.

I cry, eren has been one of my favourite characters in the AoT universe

I didn't think it was possible for Eren to get any worse, but he always manages to surprise me.

I don't care about eremika or erehisu. I just need my rivaere (: haha

i don't care for the alliance and the ship-baiting was making me weary. I just want more eren, zeke and historia. They're the interesting ones.

‏I don't know what the end will be but i know it will be sad ending!..We all suffer and I mean the world of AOT and the fans who read manga... I will accept all probabilities and the death of heroes, but please do not make Mikasa kill Eren..I mean after all this love that will kill him .. I read many analyzes of the possibility of this happening and I see it as a very bad and irrational end..It is not logical at all..If you did it, the AOT would be one of the worst deeds and to the landfill..Isayama If you have suffered a lot in your life and childhood, we have also suffered in our lives, but please do not bring this suffering into the AOT world

I dont want this to end @ isayama

I hated what direction this story was taking, now I really hate it.

I just feel Isayama hasn't answered so much stuff yet and has also raised the stakes so high that I can't possibly imagine how the story will end. I believe Mikasa's slowly been established as the character who will defeat Eren, but I have no idea how she'll do it... But at least there were beautiful Mikannie crumbs, so I'm happy af and hope they'll have more scenes together now that Annie's about to give up (I mean, there are parallels™ everywhere when it comes to our wonderful lost girls...)

I just hope it's building up to a really good ending.

i just wanna know what's gona happen next man this shit be driving me crazy

I love everything! I hope floch dies though

I love you eren

I need answers!!!

I need Zook back

I really hope this series doesn’t end with a message like “genocide is necessary for peace” I hope someone stops Eren

I really loved the art and double spreads, and seeing Eren's POV after a while

I think it's the 2nd best chapter we've gotten this arc. The 1st being 123. I loved it. I also think it's putting to rest the secret plan theories regarding Eren. I've made my final prediction for the series. I think it's a tragedy that will end in Eren destroying the world & manipulating everyone's memories except for Historia & Mikasa & a new age for humanity will begin.

I'm so glad my girl's back, but I'm confused as hell. There's definitly more to her meeting with Eren and her choosing to be pregnant, we'll see. Also Zook being a love conselor and having a Ackerman phd was hilarious, I love him even more. Erefloch canon.

If he wanted to protect his friends why didn’t he just forge some Marleyan passport/citizenships for them, god wtf

If you think about it we actually didn’t learn anything that wasn’t already heavily implied

im shook

Isayama gave more than i wanted my heart can't take it.

it was very good thank you for asking

It's finally moving forward (as isayama likes to say)

It’s a good chapter but I still with doubts.

JUST DO IT EREN

Just wanna see ZEKE

Kiyoger Theory!!!!!

l'm glad we got to see a bit from Eren's POV. But I still need more answers ;_; why choose rumbling, Eren??? not looking for justification for his actions here but i just want to know /why/ he did it. Still feel like theres a missing link somewhere tbh.. I just hope the ending of snk wont be a disaster like game of thrones where Daenerys' switch came out of nowhere. At this point I just want the series to end asap, the tension build up is killing me lol.

Leaks for 131 when?

Let’s get rrready to RUMBLEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

Loved seeing the rumbling but I wish we could have gotten more character driven moments

Loved this chapter! I'm glad we finally got to learn more of Eren's POV and finally learn what was Historia's role in all of this (or at least beginning to learn her involvement in the plan). Seeing him initiate the Rumbling was epic. The destruction is about to begin!

my brain is too small to understand some of these theories

Now we know that Eren and Floch just pretending to follow Zeke's plan ever since from the beginning but I want to gain more explanations of Eren's secret plan

Oddly placed Eren flashback, but I'll take it

Something's up. I'm still not convinced we can take any of this at face value.

So many flashbacks were a bit hard to follow, but it really seems like the series is gonna end soon and I’m a bit nervous about how well any ending will play out

thank you Isayama for this masterpiece

THE ART IS JUST AMAZING but for me its so short 😭😭😭

That Eren with mid long hair is baby

the alliance has come together way too fast and theyve only really had 1 dispute so far. there needs to be more conflict to make it more realisitic. I think annie saying that they won't be able to/don't want to kill eren is foreshadowing this.

the Art is amazing but flashback scenes were a little mess

The chapter was full of messy memories, so it symbolized Eren's brain well :)

I think that now I understand Eren better. I used to believe he had some secret plan, but the true was always there - Eren is not any master mind. His plan was simple - destroy the whole world. The trauma he had after losing his mother has never been healed. It was always in him, growing bigger and bigger. He still cares about his friends, but he is also lying to himself saying that ""he is doing the rumbling because he wants to see them having long, happy life"". He is doing it because his hatred to the ones who are responsible for Carla's death took control over his heart. Eren is adult, young man but deep down he is still the same, hurt crying child who bears painful memories of losing his mother.

The cycle of war and hatred is saddening. This ain't something fictional, it's something we have always been observing from the earliest human consciousness :(

We all got a big storm comin

We are NOT ready for this shit

we need annie to live longer pls

Well here’s our proof eren is actually going through with the rumbling.

What it would feel like to be Eren right now

what kind of eva BULLSHIT

what the hell is going ON

Where is Floch

where is LEVI

Wheres zeke?

Yams, you're so diabolic. You just want to make the real-life's rumbling with all that "confusing' ship tease xD

Yooooo, we need more explanation about maybe, everything? But amazing and bomb ass chapter though

#snk polls #snk poll #snk poll results #snk chapter 130 #snk 130

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 3 years

Text

Earth 5620 - Chapter 1

Summary: When fractures start appearing across the world, S.W.O.R.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D. work together to create a team of...specialists. It’ll take them coming together to stop two dimensions from colliding.

Word Count: 2604 words

Warnings: Um, none that I can think of?

Marvel Kiddos

A/N: I haven’t written anything on here in a WHILE. So I hope you like it. :)

January 15th. Seattle. Washington

Covert. That was what they were supposed to be in this moment. Calm, cool, collected. Gathering information because this was a clusterfuck. They were waiting for higher-ups. That was their orders. Still, when she got the call, this wasn’t what she had expected.

A split between dimensions.

Cracked – but who swung the hammer? Who manipulated the reality?

Boots scuffed against concrete as she reached for it. The best way to learn was to discover. That was what she always believed and now seemed just as good a time as any to practice that idea.

“Director Carter.”

Sharon sighed. Her hand dropped to her side as she turned to see who S.W.O.R.D. had sent to help. “It’s not exactly comforting when they send in their best, Captain Rambeau.”

Monica smirked. She loved being sent in. Desk work did her no good and she figured the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was the same way. “What is it?” She gestured to the crack. No, Fracture. Definitely a Fracture. It was too big. Too noticeable to be anything else.

“Was hoping you could tell me. This area is more your specialty, don’t you think?”

Her smirk grew into a smile as Sharon gave her a knowing look. It was true. S.H.I.E.L.D. specialized in super soldiers, arrogant billionaires, and things like vibranium. Mutants too, but that was because of Sharon’s aunt. There was a special interest there for them.

S.W.O.R.D. handled the weird and freaky. Things that had no real explanation. Infinity Stones…Alternate Realitiess? Or Aliens? Powers that were more than genetics and Masters of the Mystic Arts? That was Monica’s area.

There was a mutual respect between the two. One neither woman would ever dare to overstep even if their specialties chose to intertwine.

She turned her attention back to the Fracture, circling it. However, as she reached its side, the crack vanished. “It’s two dimensional.” She glanced at Sharon who mirrored her movements.

Sure enough. It was like looking through a window.

“I’ll get my men to do some readings.” Monica was already heading back to the vehicles, knowing her men were waiting on an update. “Let’s see if there’s anything on the other side.”

Surprisingly quiet, Sharon couldn’t take her eyes off the anomaly. As interesting as “another side” sounded, she had to wonder –

Was this the only occurrence?

March 19th New Orleans. Louisiana

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

Monica’s gaze shifted from the Fracture to her newest guests. “Director Carter.” She didn’t move from her spot on the ground. The reactor in her hand was still struggling to get a reading. The last thing she needed was to mess that up. “This is only the second, remember?”

“Yeah, but I’m worried about the lack of information.”

Monica sighed. Passing off the reactor to a S.W.O.R.D. operative, she rose to her feet and walked around the Fracture. It was at least twenty feet long – more than twice the size of the one in Seattle. And she wasn’t the only one to notice. She joined Sharon’s side and only just noticed the worry on Sharon’s face. It was etched so deep in her features, as strong and unwavering as diamond. Monica understood her fear. Truly.

Things had grown considerably calmer since Thanos was destroyed. This sparked problems and no one had a clue how big they were. The questions were surpassing their answers and it was enough to make both women feel ill.

“Let my specialists work, okay? If a third pops up, we’ll talk about a POA. But right now, it could be a coincidence. We got a lot of them in this line of work.” With a gentle nudge and a friendly smile, Monica reminded her, “You know that.”

“The last time we believed something was a coincidence, we had to learn the hard way that Hydra and Weapon X were one and the same.”

Monica winced. “Okay. Bad choice of words.” Looking back, she knew they should worry. At least a little. But she didn’t want to react yet. Sharon was always ready for a fight. And while Monica was too, there had been a fair amount of peace that she wasn’t ready to let go of.

Not yet.

May 7th. Boston. Massachusetts

Darcy couldn’t take her eyes off of it. It looked as if glass was breaking. In the middle of the air. It sounded ridiculous, she knew that, but it was an accurate description. This was something she would expect from an Asgardian visit. Instead – it was hovering in the middle of the Boston Public Garden. Appearing out of nowhere.

She’d guess it was at least a mile long and half a mile wide. It was huge.

“That looks weird.”

“You could say that again.” Darcy kept up her trek across the ridiculously huge park. She looked ahead and found the guy that had spoken. He wasn’t paying attention to anyone that had run away or the officers that were attempting to evacuate the park. He was completely wrapped up in the same thing she had been staring at. She joined his side. “Doctor Darcy Lewis – astrophysicist.”

He hadn’t realized she had spoken to him until she cleared her throat. Pulled from his thoughts, he glanced down at her and nodded. “Will.”

“You’re not scared of it?” Darcy raised a brow. Did he have a death wish?

Will chuckled. He propped his glasses on top of his head and gave her his full attention. His eyes – a splattering of rainbows and crystals – were almost impossible to look at. “I’m really good with weird.”

Behind them, just entering the park, Monica and Sharon slowed their run. It seemed their realization was mutual. This wasn’t just a couple cracks, or Fractures as Monica called them, this was something big. Very big.

Unable to tear her eyes away, Monica asked Sharon, “So you remember that POA I mentioned?”

She nodded. “I got a couple ideas. A few phone calls we can make.”

May 12th. Afghanistan. South Asia

He should be lifting spirits right now, being a leader.That was all that was on his mind. Hope was key – especially with the men and women. Their chance to go home had been prolonged for another five months. Five months with no contact for his soldiers. No way of reaching their families.

It was so much to ask of them. And instead of trying to give them hope, he was here. Why? He spared a glance across the room, recognizing the other guy. He was lower rank, but a specialist. His name – Benjamin couldn’t bring himself to remember it.

“You’re Master Sergeant Rogers, right?”

Benjamin couldn’t hide his surprise. There was no way. But as surprised as he was, he was also impressed. “Yeah. And you shouldn’t be talking.”

The specialist chuckled, shoulders shaking. “Our parents fought together.”

“How did you know? No one else – “

“Everyone knows. We just don’t say it.”

Benjamin huffed, nostrils flaring. He looked away only for a moment before remembering, “You’re Clint’s and Nat’s kid. Jensen, right?” He nodded and Ben shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry. About her – your mom, I mean.”

Jensen scoffed. “Look, we don’t have to get into that. I was just pointing out that we’re Superkids. That’s probably why we’re here.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Jensen, who had no interest in acknowledging the tension, simply stayed put. But Ben found himself counting the seconds, the minutes.

It took ten of them. Ten minutes of uncomfortable tension before the door finally opened.

The two stood, backs tense and hands poised, ready to salute whoever walked through those doors.

They hadn’t expected to see James Woo, FBI agent and overall awkward individual. He nodded, offering a curt smile as he said, “Hi.”

Ben and Jensen shared a look, hands already mid salute when Jimmy shook his hands.

“Don’t do that. Seriously. I’m here with a friend and we…Well, we need your help.”

Furrowed brows and confusion hung in the air. It seemed a million questions silently morphed over their features before they saw Jimmy’s friend enter behind him.

Ben smiled, recognizing her from many a training session. “Captain Rambeau.”

“Master Sergeant Rogers.” She smiled. “It’s been a while.”

“Just a decade or so.”

The two shared a laugh, easing a bit of the tension in the room. And while that was great for them, it left one person still in the dark. Jensen shifted from one foot to the other, raising a hand as if he had to be called on. “Look, reunions are great and all, but can I bring up the elephant in the room? Why’re you here?” He pointed to himself and Ben. “And why’re we?”

Monica huffed. “About that…”

Queens. New York

Flying through the air, an excited laugh tumbled from her lips. She landed on the fire escape with ease and released the webbing. Sparing one quick glance, fingers curled around her window and she crawled inside.

It fell shut behind her. With a sharp exhale, the mask was tugged off and her massive curls freed. Lena checked her appearance for a quick moment. Flipping her hair and nudging it with her fingers, she was satisfied enough. Next came removing the Spidersuit, replacing it with comfy, pink joggers and keeping the sports bra.

She was home. Extra effort didn’t have to be made in her attire.

“Lena!”

She squeaked, jumping a foot in the air when she heard her father’s voice. Normally, it was Lena’s mom shouting for her to do the dishes or some other boring chore. Her dad didn’t yell. He didn’t like yelling. Grabbing her phone, she was quick to leave her room only to find herself particularly confused when she saw her dad wasn’t alone.

Well, at least the yelling made sense now.

“Dad?”

Peter looked up. That goofy smile of his, the one she had known all of her life, was staring right back at her. But it was different. Proud? Maybe that was the word? Not surprising. He was always proud of her. “Hey, how was school?”

“It was good.” Her eyes drifted back to the blonde. She was edgy in a weird sort of way. While Lena had grown up hearing how rough and tough her mom was, this woman was different. She redefined the meaning of the word. “Who’s this?”

“This is Sharon Carter. She’s the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Hey, Miss Parker.” Sharon offered a smile. It was enough to melt the edges away. She softened, but Lena didn’t buy it. It was too much. As if Sharon was trying to relate to her.

“Yeah, cool. What’s this about? I have homework.”

Peter leaned against the counter. “Since when do you care about homework?”

Lena pouted. Okay, that was fair. But she found herself taking a quick step back when Sharon walked around the dining table. It was weird. She should trust her. Her dad did. But their histories in the Superworld were different. And this wasn’t a face she recognized.

“Is this you?”

Lena’s gaze shifted from Sharon’s face to the clip on her phone. It was her in her Spidersuit, swinging in and out of those random cracks that had appeared in the MoMa in Queens and the Brooklyn Museum. According to the news, a couple more had popped up in New Jersey and California. She shrugged. “Um…yeah. No one had closed them off yet.”

Sharon’s face morphed into that of amusement. She zoomed out on the clip, showing the warnings and Agents that were securing the area or had just finished.

A blush tinted Lena’s cheeks as she looked from parent to agent and back again. “Am I in trouble?”

Sharon shook her head as Peter grinned from ear to ear. “Far from it actually. If it’s okay with you, I’d really appreciate your help.”

May 20th. S.W.O.R.D. Headquarters

Terrance’s fingers impatiently drummed on the steering wheel. He really didn’t like this idea. He didn’t trust it. “Look I know Dad wanted us to help out Sharon ‘cause she’s family, but we don’t know anything about these guys.”

“Sure we do.” Sasha’s small smile didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t like it either. She definitely didn’t trust it. “We’ve known Sharon since Dad and Papa adopted us. And neither of them would send us anywhere they didn’t think was safe.”

Terrance parked the car, getting out as Sasha followed suit. “I’m just saying, there are a lot of other big-name heroes they could be calling. This isn’t our territory.”

“And I couldn’t agree more, but I did my research. S.W.O.R.D. helped take down Weapon X and Hydra. They played a big part in bringing our parents back. We can do this.” She looked at Terrance. “But I’m not going in if you aren’t.”

He looked at the massive building, having to crane his neck. It was huge. Gaudy. Too much for people who were supposed to be blending in to do good. “They just want our abilities, Sash.”

“Maybe. But what if they need us?”

His distaste shifted to a plain, old grimace that he had given his sister one too many times. “I hate when you do that.”

She laughed. “And I love it.”

The two stepped inside the building. It was too bright. Too clean. Neither of them liked it, but they had grown used to this being “normal” for these types of organizations. You must look good to do your job. At least that was what these groups shoved down their throats.

“Maggie!” Sasha immediately brightened at the sight of her old friend making her way towards them.

“Hey, guys.” Smile unwavering, Maggie tackled the two in a hug. It made Sasha soften, but Terrance was still tense. Some things never change. “Guessing it was Uncle Bucky that talked you into this?”

“More Dad actually,” Terrance told her.

Though surprised, Maggie appreciated that Sam had managed to do this. “Well, I’m just glad to see two familiar faces,” she admitted. “C’mon. I was just heading towards Monica’s office.”

The screaming could be heard far before they actually reached the door. Terrance grimaced, already looking at Sasha as if she owed him for getting him here. Who could have caused such a huge fight when they weren’t even there yet?

And hearing so many voices, he had to wonder – how many people had they asked for help?

“Um, I think we’re in here.” Maggie grabbed the door. With a sharp tug, she held it open for them and gave them a peak of the chaos inside.

Overlapping voices, overwhelmingly loud. A girl in a green Spidersuit hung from the ceiling with no intension of coming down. A blonde guy, super tall and screaming “Captain America” vibes was currently holding back a smaller, brunet.

That was the guy doing most of the shouting. And it wasn’t to everyone. No. It was to one guy. He was arrogant, smirking because he clearly held the power. He wasn’t shouting. He didn’t feel the need to. Instead, he shrugged and waved to the newest additions in the room.

One guy currently being shielded by two familiar faces. Monica and Sharon. They were desperately trying to calm down the screaming guy.

And then there was the last one – standing by the door. He looked over his shoulder, nodding to Terrance, Sasha, and Maggie. “Glad you could join us.”

Terrance shook his head, his elbow hitting Sasha’s rib. She hissed, rubbing her side as she muttered, “Ow.”

He gave her the look. That look that every sibling gave when they truly meant what they said next. “You owe me.”

Tag list is open? If you want? Lol

#marvel #mcu #mcu au #marvel kiddos #sharon carter #monica rambeau

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 4 years

Text

Shackled - Chapter 4

Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.

WARNINGS CHANGE EACH CHAPTER, PLEASE CHECK EACH TIME.

Warning: Implied loss of family, grieving, depression, cursing, Demon!Dean, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, mind fuckery, psychological manipulation, questioning one’s sanity, possible hallucinations

Word count: 1656

Author’s Note: @thoughtslikeaminefield and @cracksinthewalls really poked this chapter hard, and it’s much better because of it. Also got a thumbs up from @fangirlxwritesx67 , which was the motivation I needed to get my act together and actually post. Alright, kids, buddy up and jump in! Shit’s gonna get freaky!

In case you missed it:

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3

Chapter 4

Adept fingers probed at the scars on her neck, running over the snarled flesh before circling around to the smooth skin on the other side of her throat to check for injuries.

“It’s fine, Aaron, leave it,” Miriam mumbled, swatting at his hands without bothering to open her eyes. He always worried about her after a hunt, convinced she was hiding a myriad of wounds that she was too proud to tell him about. He’d been the medic of their little team, with gentle, competent skills that surprised everyone except Miriam.

She shivered in the chill air, then sighed contentedly as the blanket was pulled up around her shoulders.

Strong hands dug into the muscles where her neck met her shoulder, worked at the perpetual stress knot she’d formed there, and she groaned with relief. Sleeping against the wall had begun to give her a massive kink in her neck, and this was-

“Can't wait to sink my teeth in,” a voice growled next to her ear. “Gonna eat you up, sweetheart.”

Impossibly sharp teeth grazed her throat, and Miriam jerked awake with a silent scream.

Her eyes tore wildly around the hallway as she scrambled to her feet, drawing and cocking her gun without conscious thought. She listened hard, but there was nothing. No one was in the hallway to her right, so she ducked through the t-junction to her left, head swiveling sharply. The long passageway stretched in both directions, and though there were doors along both sides, she’d have heard someone opening one of them.

All of the doors were closed.

Still, her racing heart only began to calm when she slid her way cautiously into the storage room, pushed the shelves aside, and found Dean sitting exactly where she’d left him. Her lungs unlocked, and she let out a shaking, relieved breath.

He took in her disheveled appearance and flushed face, a satisfied smile stretching his lips wide.

“Sleep well?”

…

Two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal later, the tremors in Miriam’s hands finally stopped. She made her way back to her room after a quick glance at Dean, who’d stared silently right back, his expression a bland mask of indifference. She splashed some water on her face, brushed her teeth, and changed clothes all while managing to not look in the mirror. Minor miracle, but a welcome one, nonetheless.

She sat heavily on the end of her bed. Though her hands were no longer shaking, her head was almost vibrating with the force of the thoughts ricocheting around her skull.

The dream was so real. But so were most of her nightmares, usually replays of the night she lost Aaron. Then there was her massive reaction to Dean when she’d first walked into the dungeon.

Overreaction, she thought acidly, frowning.

What the hell was wrong with her? She knew better than to get that close to a monster, much less a demon. Much less a demon with the experience and skillset of Dean Winchester, backed by demonic strength and whatever else came standard.

But…

She should be repulsed by him. And she was. Terrified and repulsed and all the appropriate feelings towards something so evil, monstrous. It wasn’t as if she were trying to justify his existence. She felt no sympathy towards him, no kindness.

But she’d be lying if she said she felt no attraction.

Not sappy, romantic bullshit, she thought fiercely, her ragged fingernails digging into her palms.

Not physical, not exactly, although how she’d ever managed to miss that his face was sculpted like some sort of bygone Greek hero, and that voice…

But it wasn't even Dean’s physical attraction that drew her in. That strange mark on his arm came to mind for a moment, but, really, she’d felt it the second she’d walked into the dungeon, even before she’d laid eyes on him. And she was damned sure hadn’t felt it years ago when they first met.

Damned sure.

So what had changed between then and now? Well, Dean Winchester was a demon, for one. But what about a demonic presence would pull at her so? Surely not…

She pushed that thought aside, searching her brain for something, anything to explain why she was so...enthralled. What was different about her since the last time they’d met?

Who was she kidding? Even after a year, she was still in denial. Losing Aaron had changed everything for her, changed everything about her. The overwhelming grief and guilt, and then the smothering numbness that weighed her down, blotted out the sun. Overcast days, nightmares every night.

She was exhausted and shattered well before she’d even picked up the phone to answer Sam’s call.

She’d done her damndest in the last few months to shove down her emotions, pushed and ignored and insulated until anything more than dull existence was a system shock. The pull when she’d stepped into that dungeon, though…

Siren song. She was sailing straight towards the jagged rocks, and she didn’t honestly know if she had the strength to steer away. She wanted to help Sam...No, she needed to help Sam, to pay off at least some of the debt she owed the brothers, but…

Nothing good could possibly come from this.

Fuck me, she thought as her stomach twisted painfully. Confusion, pain, and grief washed over Miriam in a flood so intense all she could do was bury her face in her hands and weep like she hadn’t since she’d held Aaron’s mangled body in her arms, her blood mingling with his.

…

“It’s freedom,” Dean said.

Miriam sat against the wall next to the table, methodically cleaning her gun. She hadn’t used it since that last hunt with Aaron, and she’d been foolish to neglect the weapon for so long. She turned red-rimmed eyes in his direction, her hands silently continuing their work.

“You were wondering why I’d want to be a demon, why anyone would. It’s freedom from all that human bullshit. All the guilt, all the pain, all that worrying over fuck all.”

“Bet you still feel a little pain,” Miriam said, reaching towards the holy water.

She smirked when his lips drew back in a silent snarl. His eyes flashed black, and something bright and not-quite-painful flared in her chest.

“You should keep your eyes like that,” she said before she could stop herself.

His head snapped to the side, gaze sharp and focused, a wolf scenting prey. She swore silently. Half a day around this asshole and her verbal filter was shot to hell. She really had to get her act together. She was better than this.

She had to be.

Silence stretched between them to the point of snapping, Miriam staring hard into the burning darkness of his gaze. When her fingers began to shake, she hastily reassembled her weapon, gathering her tools into their zippered bag.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered defensively, not sure what exactly she was defending herself against. She stood, turning her back decisively on the demon, yet unable to make her feet move away.

“You know what I did all that time Sam was looking for me?” Dean asked suddenly.

She hesitated before turning to face him. The depths of his ebony eyes drawing her in once more, and this time, for just a few moments, she let them. She was bone-weary, so tired of battling herself, and for just a moment she admitted that she didn’t have the will to resist anymore.

Freedom.

She found herself standing inside the circle, almost toe-to-toe with the demon. If Dean were able to move, he could kick her or wrap a leg around her ankle and take her down. This was foolish, lethally so, and she knew better. But standing there, so close, she could easily reach out and-

And what?! Miriam asked herself fiercely, gathering herself to bolt. What the hell are you doing?!

“Sam searched for me for months, did all sorts of wicked things to find me, you wouldn’t even believe. And you know what I did while Sam beat his brains out, hunting for me? I drank. I fought. I fucked. I killed.”

He ground out every word precisely; tongue, lips, and teeth flashed in obscene emphasis around each syllable. How the hell did he manage to make the simple act of speaking so terribly profane?

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into her with the weight of scripture. When he spoke again, his tone was softer, balm against the agony of her inner turmoil.

“I did whatever the hell I wanted, and I didn’t give a fuck who was hurting, who was dying, what was right or wrong.”

Miriam took a step forward, hardly breathing, fighting herself every inch of the way. She had to leave the room, to get away, look away, shut him out somehow.

“I didn’t mourn my mommy and daddy. I didn’t miss one damned person I’ve lost. Didn’t think about ��em for a second.”

Another step. Miriam’s hands pressed against Dean’s shoulders for support. She stood over him, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as her head spun. Though he stared up at her from his confines, they both knew he had the high ground.

“I don’t need my baby brother to cure me, darlin’.”

He held her gaze deliberately as he tilted his head to stroke his bristled cheek against the back of her hand. Miriam’s muscles clenched as fiery sensation swept through her body, searing every nerve down to its roots. He lowered his eyes just long enough to sweep a shockingly soft kiss across her knuckles with his sculpted, ungodly soft lips before turning his face up to hers.

He grinned, flashing a feral, perfect set of teeth she realized could easily reach her now.

“I am the cure.”

Miriam fled, and the echo of Dean’s words followed her every step of the way.

...

Chapter 5 is now up!

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

Text

Title: I Bet You Can’t {2}

Chris Evans x Uriah & Chris Hemsworth x Summer

Crossover-Collab Four-Part Miniseries

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fun, and Games, Raunchy Talk, Trigger Warning Mention of Trump🙃

Words: 2.9K

Summary: Uriah and Chris are happily married. A night of relaxing with your best friends Chris and Summer Hemsworth brings up “No Nut November.” Once you hear it, you know where it’s leading. IT was all jokes until somehow it turned serious. The Chris’ strike a full-on bet while dragging their better halves into the madness. The rules are simple, for the entire month of November none of you will have sex, none of you will get that nut in any way. Whichever couple makes it get bragging rights, and the 10k pool bet money. Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal and go on IG live to announce their failure. The bet is rigged though when Uriah and Summer decide to sabotage their husbands and make a side bet on who could make their husband fail quicker. All’s fair in love and war, and this is war.

Note: Got this idea from a group conversation with my friends, where a debate broke out about women being stronger and more able to survive NNN than men. It got me thinking, hmmm we know Chris has a dirty mind, dirty mind has to equal freak and always wanting to fool around.

It was too much fun working with @oceanscorazon a while back for her part one to out first collab titled Rumors & Waves. Look out for part two coming soon. I had to do it again. Thank you to the beautiful and phenomenal Amber @oceanscorazon for agreeing to this!!!

This will be a four part story to be posted one chapter a week to show what November is like for Chris and Uriah. @oceanscorazon will also write four parts to show that November is like for Chris and Summer.

***So for Chris and Uriah’s timeline, this is before the events of Rumor Has It.

🍁 🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

-Week One-

Four days. Four damn days. You rolled your eyes and stared at your reflection. Fresh out a shower that you thought would help the tension in your shoulders; you realized it hadn’t done anything at all. You rolled your shoulders and groaned. It had been four days. Not one and done or two and done, it had been four damn days since this stupid bet began. Four days where Chris maintained this gung ho attitude that he’d be victorious in No Nut November.

The first day was easy for him because he was busy working the whole day. When it was time for bed, you expected him to see the error of his ways. As you were lying in the bed channel surfing, he came in kissed your forehead, and stretched back as if he had not one care in the world. He even tried to have a nonchalant conversation. When you slid closer to him and rested your head on his chest you were sure after a few minutes of feeling your body heat he would abandon the no nut ship but nope. He was perfectly content, even had the nerve to stroke mesmerizing and soothing circles onto your arm.

The second night was much like the first; the only difference was when he climbed into bed he went to you to assume the big spoon position. He stayed there for a few seconds, but when you moaned and wiggled deeper in his embrace he groaned and abruptly moved away to his side of the bed to roll onto his side. When you asked him what that was, he said he wanted to be the little spoon. You found it strange because he never wanted to be the little spoon. He liked being big spoon so he could overpower your body with his long spider-like legs and arms. When you wrapped your arms around him and pressed your body to his back it felt ridiculous because of how much more muscular he was. You moaned and pressed closer, and it was then he moved away claiming he was hot and really needed some sleep.

Night three, he was in bed before you, and he was fast asleep. That irked your nerve; he was creating space between you, not physical space either. He knew you loved to cuddle, but cuddling had all but disappeared as were any kisses that weren’t for your cheek, or forehead. He’d only allowed lip kisses that were under two seconds. The last time you had a two-second kiss was when you were fifteen playing kissing games with other kids your age. You thought when you were married two-second kisses would be a thing of the past.

After giving your hair a last once over, you gave yourself a determined look in the mirror. You planned on kicking it up a notch. It was couples workout day, and you had a plan. You walked out the bathroom and grabbed your workout towel, and made your way up to your in-home gym where Chris was waiting. You went over the plan in your head again.

“Tease, tease, ask for training, tease, then seduce, and finally find a release.”

You nodded, getting into the right mind frame as you climbed the steps to the top floor of yours and Chris’ Boston Brownstone. When you got to the top, the doors to the exercise studio were open, and you saw a tank clad Chris doing pull-ups. Getting lost you stood there and just watched him pump them out like they were nothing. When you’d counted to fifty he dropped down and groaned while stretching out his arms.

“Fifty, impressive.” He turned around and looked your body over. The look on his face was a masked one.

“Ready to show me what you go?” You approached him while fastening the gloves around your wrist.

“Don’t expect fifty.”

“Come on; I’ll spot you.”

You stretched your arms, then stood in front of the pull-up bar and looked at Chris through the mirror. He lifted you effortlessly, and you gripped the bar and began your pull-ups. He walked around you as he counted. You tried to keep your eyes focused on yourself in the mirror but every circle he made, you found yourself getting slightly distracted.

“Fifteen, good. Remember to keep your core tight,” Chris reminded.

You nearly laughed; he had no idea how tight your core was thanks to this stupid bet. Your arms began to shake, and you knew you only had a few left in you. Chris sensed it too and stood in front of you with his hands out ready to brace your drop.

“Thirty.” You let the bar go but barely dropped before Chris’s arms caught you, and placed you onto the floor.

“Felt good, right?”

“You and I, my friend have very different ideas of what feels good. Lucky for you I know just what will feel good.” You took a step to him. A smile spread across his face then he bit his bottom lip.

“I’m all ears, Mrs. Evans.”

“Just ears? I can think of better body parts to have all in.” You pressed your body to his and placed your hand over his crotch. Chris groaned and dropped a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Did you come up here to work out or talk?” He moved away to the treadmill and set it up. He was resisting. Great, you thought.

You spent thirty minutes on the treadmill, then fifteen on the elliptical, then separated for Chris to focus on his back while you concentrated on your legs. After another twenty minutes you’d worked up quite a sweat. When you wiped your forehead you saw Chris doing curls. You walked over to the kettlebells and decided to kick it up. Taking a spot in front of the mirror in clear sight of Chris, you began your kettlebell squats. When you dipped down, you made sure to poke your ass out a bit more than usual.Thanks to the micro shorts you wore, you knew the view was sublime.

After ten, you began to feel the burn, and you could feel his eyes glued to you. You decided to let your grunts and moans out on the next dip. When you did, you heard him suck in a hiss of air, but you didn’t stop. You were glad you chose this outfit, it showed just the right parts of you, the parts you knew he loved. After another ten you dropped the kettlebell in front of you and bent over to catch your breath. Placing your palms flat on the floor with not even the slightest bend of your knees you waited.

After a small grunt, he spoke. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna feel those tomorrow,” you responded. He smiled and nodded then walked to the bench press machine.

“You wanna go first? I’ll spot you.”

After you put the kettlebell back, you walked to him and lied back. Chris put twenty pounds on and lifted it like it was nothing to make sure it wasn’t too much. “Think you can handle twenty?”

“Most I’ve ever taken is about ten and a half, but I can handle twenty.” He fully got your meaning and adjusted his stance as he cleared his throat. You lifted your arms, gripped the bar then began. Chris counted them out.

You were doing fine until you realized how wide his stance was and just how close your head was to the ten and a half you were speaking of. Suddenly your concentration faltered, and your only thought was having him settle into your mouth. His eyes locked with yours, and you wondered if he could tell what you were thinking about. You bit your bottom lip and just imagined him slapping your face with it. Chris was a gentle guy but when he wanted he could get real nasty. You remembered the first time he slapped your cheek with his dick. It was a shock because he was this vanilla guy and you didn’t expect it, but you liked it. All you wanted right now was for him to slap you with it again.

“Forty, take a break.” He took the bar and put it back in place as you panted and tried to get a grip.

Why was this harder for you than his freaky ass? You sat up, stood, and motioned for him to go ahead. Before he did, he added another eighty pounds to the bar making it an even hundred. He knew you couldn’t spot that. When he laid down he nudged his head to the side.

“I got this, babe.”

Without wasting another second, he began pumping out lift after lift without so much as a tremble. You’d watched him do hundreds of these over the years, and you knew he wasn’t anywhere near tired. Your eyes slowly feasted on every inch of his body until they landed just below his waist. Without thinking you walked to him and swung your leg over him and sat right on his dick. Chris groaned and stopped with the bar in the air. He looked to you with a question in his eyes.

“Uriah, really? I could have dropped this.”

“You wouldn’t.” You fixed yourself on him, and he groaned again.

“What’re you doing?” he continued lifting the bar, only this time, his movements were slower.

“Nothing, just sitting.”

“I’m not a seat.”

“This is the second best seat in the house.”

“What’s the first?”

“Your face.” You saw his arm wobble, and your heart skipped a beat, worried he’d drop the bar on his throat. Chris lifted it with a loud grunt and flung it back. The barbell dropped to the floor with a loud clatter before Chris sat up, wrapped one arm around your waist and flipped you so your back was pressed to the bench with him between your legs.

“Fuck!” the look on his face was an intense mischievous one.

“What’re you doing, Uriah?”

“Nothing.”

“Since the minute we started working out, you’ve been saying all sorts of slick shit and doing everything you possibly could to have my eyes on you. Now, what—are—you—doing?”

His face was so close, and you could feel him getting hard.

“I want you.” The fire flickered on behind his deep cornflower blue eyes.

“It’s been four days, and I want you, baby.”

“We can’t; you know that.”

“Chris, of course, we can. I won’t tell anyone. Summer and Chris will keep thinking that we haven’t. It’ll be our little secret.”

You dropped your hand between your bodies and slipped it into his shorts and gripped his meat. Chris groaned and closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of your hand.

“Don’t you want me too, baby?”

“God Riah, you know I want you. You know I always want you.”

“Okay then. Take these off and let me do all the work.”

Just when you thought he would give in, he grabbed your hand and stopped its movements.

“I’m not going to fail this baby. It’s one month, four weeks, thirty days, it is barely a drop in the bucket of our marriage. We can handle this. Our relationship is much more than sex.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Who are you?” Chris got off of you and walked over to his towel.

“Chris, come on. This is stupid. We’re adults. Children make these kinds of bets.”

“It’ll make us stronger.” You rolled your eyes. He was making you feel like a dick crazed thirsty thot. You sat up on the bench and glared at him.

“Christopher Robert Evans, if you do not give me the dick I want I promise you I’ll get it elsewhere.”

Chris rose his eyebrows, but he was amused. He didn’t take a thing you said as serious.

“Really? Where?”

“Right under your nose! Don’t test me, boy. It may be November, but I’m still a hot girl!”

With that, you walked out of the room and stormed downstairs. Hopefully you’d scared the shit out of him, and he’d screw his head on right.

You were disappointed that night when you were met with an actual barrier between you and him in the bed. He’d made a makeshift wall. Your jaw dropped at his audacity. When you saw it you saw red.

“Chris, you’re fucking kidding me, right?!”

“What? I thought this would help you out. It’s a wall. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine,” Chris explained.

“A wall? So you Trump now? Building walls and shit? What’s next?”

“Don’t play with me like that. Don’t mention that name in my house!”

He was dead serious. You rolled your eyes. “Well, stop acting like him, unless you plan on grabbing this pussy.”

He couldn’t keep a straight face to that one, and he busted out laughing. His laughter prompted yours, and some of the tension melted away.

“I love you more than life Riah, but you’re not getting none of this dick.”

Again your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe this. You stormed away and went into your closet hell-bent on finding your stash of toys. You went into the drawer in the back, expecting to find them in the box you’d put them, but the box was empty.

“Oh hell no he didn’t.”

You stormed back out to the bedroom and saw Chris sitting there with a smug smirk on his face. “You’re not getting any plastic dick either. For better or worse means we’re in this together.”

This shit would not do at all. It wasn’t even the end of the week yet, and you were bout tired of this shit. Tomorrow it was time to reassess.

~~~~~~~

“Girl, you too!”

You’d just finished telling Summer all about Chris’ ass and the shit he’d put you through. You even told her how he confiscated your toys, so self pleasure was out of the question too.

“Summer, why are we always the ones paying the price for their stupidity?”

“I don’t know, but Chris had the nerve to get a body pillow to separate us in bed. A body pillow Riah!”

“They must be long lost brothers or something. Chris pulled that shit too, except he actually made a fucking wall Summer, a wall of pool noodles. Pool noodles!”

Summer snickered and nearly fell out of her chair. You laughed too, but deep down, you were salty as fuck.

“He is serious about this, Riah. I didn’t think he’d make it two days, but the week ends tomorrow, and he still won’t let me sit on it,” Summer whined. You felt her pain.

“At least he didn’t take your toys.”

Summer looked from side to side as she thought about it. “Hold on.”

You watched as she walked through her mansion to the master bedroom. She perched the camera up and searched her belongings. You busied yourself looking through the folders that had been messengered over for the impending album. Suddenly you heard a loud squeal.

“This mother--.”

“Watch your mouth, Summer!”

“Christopher Hemsworth, what did you do? Where is my bag of trix?”

Chris came into the frame with a wide smile. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Chris, I’m not being funny. Where is it?”

“It’s safe. I found it a new home for the month.” Summer’s mouth dropped.

“You had no right; it’s mine Christopher.”

“What’s mine is yours, and yours is mine.”

“If that were true, you’d give me that dick already!” She shrieked again, but Chris didn’t look threatened. He simply laughed then looked to the camera.

“Riah, how are you, darling? How is this first week of November treating you and Evans?”

You tried hard not to scowl, but the salty look on your face was a permanent fixation at this point.

“Ah, I see, as well as Summer’s week. Cheerio, just three more to go. Eye on the prize. Tell Evans I’ll call him later. I’m off to get a workout.”

“Yeah, yeah, no one cares. You have the best workout equipment here, and you’re just letting it grow cobwebs,” Summer spat.

“Cobwebs? I think they have products for that babe.”

Summer shrieked again before she launched a pillow at him. Chris shouted bye as he ran.

“I have had it with him, Riah. All I want is some sex, is that too much to ask for?!”

“I know. I thought Chris would be over it by now, but he isn’t. They’re serious,” you finished.

The two of you sat there with pained, salty expressions. After almost a minute, the two of you gasped simultaneously. Your eyes met, and she looked like she had an idea.

“I’ve got it,” the two of you said together.

“What?” Again your voices overlapped.

“You first,” a final time you said together. The two of you giggled before Summer spoke.

“Sabotage!”

You smiled widely and nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. We kick it up ten notches.”

“You know what Cevans likes and is weak for, and I know what’ll make my Australian blonde go nuts. We use it,” Summer added.

“Exploit the shit out of it. The gloves have to come off Summer. We turn this all the way up.”

“Jamaica Hedonism style, anything goes,” she added as she nodded in agreement.

“Our goal is to make them lose this bet. The question is who will lose first,” you finished. Summer’s face lit up, and your smile followed.

“Oh girl, this is good. Payback is a bitch!”

“May the husbands fail,” you both said together. The two of you looked determined. Your eye was on the prize, and the prize was your nut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chrisgalore @chaneajoyyy @rynabarnesrogers @disneysdarlingdiva @bellaamor88 @ab-baybay @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @patzammit @melodyofmbaku @kelbabyblue

#bet you can't fic #bet you can't collab #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans X black reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #no nut november #NNN

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chemicalmagecraft · 3 years

Text

Foresight is 20/20 Chapter 11

I smiled even before we reached the gates. "It looks like we have a welcome party," I noted, then licked my lips.

"How can you tell?" Gai asked.

"Chakra sensing."

As soon as we were inside the gates of the village, I was tackled by a very energetic blonde. "Kouki!" Naruto yelled as he did his level best to crush me like a tin can.

I awkwardly patted him on the back. "Heyyy, bud. Could I please breathe?" I choked out. I gasped for my breath after he released me from his adamantium grasp. "Stupid freakish Uzumaki strength," I grumbled in between breaths.

"What was that?" Tenten angrily asked me.

I rolled my eyes. "Not directed at you."

"Hey Kouki," Naruto said, "why are you all brown?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay first off I think technically it's more 'bronze' than 'brown,'" I said, "and b, it's called a tan."

"How did you get so tan in only a few days?" Dad asked me. "Didn't you have a parasol?"

I sheepishly put my hand behind my head. "Well..."

~~~~ku

I sighed as I lounged on the thankfully clean floor in front of the window.

"Are you sunbathing!?" Temari asked me.

"Soooo waaaarm~" I replied.

"I swear you're a cat or something."

I grinned a catlike grin. "Meow~" She sighed and stormed off.

~~~~ku

"...I guess I get tan really easily?" Okay to be fair I do. And it stays for a while, even if I stay inside most of the time. When my brother, whose complexion is almost exactly the same as mine, got a similarly dark tan from being a lifeguard, my mom noted that it was probably due to our "gypsy blood." I wouldn't put it that way myself, mostly due to the fact that the word "gypsy" is actually kinda offensive what the heck mom, but I guess it's a plausible reason... I was thankful, though, that the sun didn't give me any more freckles. No offense to people with a lot of freckles, but I'm fine with only having like ten freckles on my face that mostly just look like a bunch of beauty marks, thank you very much.

"Welcome back, niisan," Hinata said with a smile. I couldn't help but notice that Kurama didn't at all look like he was annoyed with Hinata carrying him.

"Sup, Hina-chan. Did Kurama-chan tell you guys I'd be here?"

He huffed and turned his head away from me, the tsundere.

"Love you too, bud!"

"So what are you going to do now that you're back?" Neji asked me.

I shrugged. "First I'm going to take a bath, then I'll probably take a nap or something. I'm pooped."

"Surprising to hear that from you," Ai commented.

"Even I have my limits, Ai. Working on the seal was fun, but I'm glad it's over and done with." I yawned. "Now if you guys don't mind, I'd like to go take a nice, long bath now." I waved goodbye. "Thanks for coming to greet me!"

kukukuku~

I yawned, sat up in my bed, licked my lips, and stretched my arms. Then I fell back to sleep.

kukukuku~

"Okay, time to work now," I said after I rolled out of bed. Before doing anything, though, I checked out my window. It was nighttime. I shrugged. "Not that much of a problem to someone with twenty four-plus hour days." I licked my lips. "Right, let's get crackin'." I assumed a meditative position on the floor and reached inward, to my chakra. Mostly the red stuff, but also some of the blue. Just as a human touched by the red (I.E. me or the jinchuriki) has to have over a certain amount of red chakra in them to not die, it seemed that beings made from the red needed at least some blue in them to function. To be honest, I should've figured that out sooner, what with how the Biju Dama uses blue chakra. 'Course, I did figure it out when I sensed not only another biju, but Karura, who was a non-biju red chakra spirit. And with that revelation came some important progress on an idea that I'd had. And over the ride home, I'd honed and perfected that jutsu, one that I was now ready to use. Sure, I'd been wary of potential danger, but I felt a lot better after a message from my future self, or at least a future self... Future vision can get pretty freaky.

And so, I grabbed hold of almost all of my red chakra, just leaving a comfortable yet small amount over the minimum amount I needed to live, as well as enough blue chakra to sustain a demon of that power level. I used yin-yang release and some of the mechanics behind clone jutsus in general to mold that chakra into the proper shape. When I was done, the chakra moved on its own.

I opened my eyes to see my shadow turn pitch-black, then split off into two, one normal and one still a me-shaped abyss. The ebon shadow moved and stretched so that it was across the room from me. The shadow... rose, changing in shape and color to form what felt like an alternate-universe mirror. First off, shadow me looked even more girly than I did. Sure, that wasn't saying much what with how I was still way prepubescent and had girly hair, but she had longer hair and a skirt with leggings, so there's that. Plus she looked a little shorter than me. Second off, she had what appeared to be fox ears and a tail, likely an artifact from Kurama even though they didn't look exactly like his. Third, she was both a pallette swap and mirror image of me. While her complexion was roughly the same as mine, her eye markings were white with black dots instead of black with white dots, her clothes were dark red instead of blue, her hair was a shade of blue so dark it was almost black, and her eyes were red with slit pupils. As for the mirror part, her bangs were parted to the right instead of the left and each of her freckles were situated to be on the opposite side of her face from mine. Though she had fox ears instead of human ears, I could see she still had a rendition of the nubby nub nub thing on her right ear as opposed to my left.

"I am thou, thou art I," she said in almost my voice. Man, that was weird. "Sup, me."

"Sup," I responded, then relaxed my posture. She did the same, though she was mindful of her skirt. I was already kind of sure of the answer, but... "Hey, just to be clear here, you're supposed to be a girl, ja?"

She nodded. "Ja." She blushed. "I have more control over my form than just using the transformation jutsu and I figured I should differentiate myself as much as I can from you, so..." I feel like something could be said about me that "I" felt the need to justify that even to myself...

"I take it you picked out your own name too, right?"

"Yup." She grinned. "To counter your light-light hope-and-fortune name, I picked Chikage."

"Thousand Views?" I asked jokingly.

She facepalmed and groaned. "Okay yes, I guess that that's the traditional reading, but I meant more along the lines of Thousand Shadows. Or even Blood Shadow. Heck, Shadow of the Earth is kinda cool too."

"So does that mean I have your permission to keep 'Kouki?'" I asked.

She gave me a deadpan stare. "Dude, I literally said that I picked a name to balance out yours."

"Yeah, but if you think about it, 'Kouki' is us, not me. The guy that is us combined is Kouki."

She shrugged. "Would be pretty weird if you randomly started to go by another name. You're Kouki Prime and I'm totally at peace with that. Let's stop talking about semantics and see what this jutsu of ours does, exactly."

I nodded and clenched my fist. "I think I got weaker..." I unclenched my fist and did a few small stretches.

"Makes sense," Chikage said. "Even if you aren't using it, your red chakra still enhances you. Still, that also means you should have more control now."

"Right," I said. I held my hand out and tried to make some wind chakra. It felt a little off without my red chakra, but I got the hang of it surprisingly fast. Much faster than I'd managed the last time I'd tried it, wire-thin threads of wind chakra burst from my fingers, curling around my new double/clone/sister maybe? "Sorry, but you understand what I'm doing, right?

She snorted. Curiously, a small puff of smoke came from her nose when she did. "Dude, I'm you. Of course I know. Just make sure to ask future you first to make sure it doesn't screw us both over."

"Right, was going to do that anyway." I activated my eyes for just long enough to get a message coded to a version of myself in the exact situation I was in.

"Yup. Go ahead."

I didn't want to completely spoil every single highly-dangerous-yet-incredibly-interesting experiment I did, but I knew it'd be stupid to actually do them without using the Shoraigan to make sure I didn't end up turning Konoha into a crater. And so in my time of need, I discovered another power of the Shoraigan that was just as good as the ability to tell the future. At least, I'm assuming that's what happened in about a thousand other timelines that I never went down. Or I guess I did go down them, but just not the me that is me? Man, anything involving time travel gives people headaches, doesn't it. I could only time-warp information and yet I still got headaches.

Where was I?

Oh right. Main Shoraigan power number three. Or maybe just another version of the first main power? In addition to being able to download future information directly into my brain, I found out I could send my past self and/or selves information when I randomly got thousands of very similar chronopathic messages saying something roughly along the lines of "Holy crud we can send messages to our past selves!" and some telling me to stop sending messages back to past me, which was very hypocritical of future me, but I complied. I wonder if there's a version of me who found out about the Shoraigan by having that future message sent back by an alternate version of-

"You're getting off track," Chikage said, her eyes now a slit variant of the Shoraigan. Guess that meant she could use it too despite not having my eyes(?). "Stop telling the fans about our cool new power and kill me already."

"Right, sorry." I closed my hand into a fist, causing the Wind Release: Razor Wire to chop her into pieces. Instead of blood going everywhere, though, the cuts became red chakra which reformed back into her body with some loss.

"That hurt," she muttered. "But it seems we won't find out what happens when I die if we use that. Maybe try fire?" She was made from an aggregation of the powers of Kurama (fire/wind) and Shukaku (earth/wind), so while there was some fire in her it wasn't out of the question that fire would hurt her a lot more than wind...

I nodded and we both stood up. I guess maybe it was customary to use fire chakra from the lungs, and yes that was apparently how you got the most power, but I liked the idea of channeling it through my hands better, plus that way I could try to add lightning to it despite not knowing how to do it too well. I knew fire from the hands was possible from the flashback to the time of Ninshu, so theoretically... "Do not try this at home, kids." I made a few hand seals, then held my hand like how Kakashi does with the Chidori. An unfortunately uncoordinated ball of fire and lightning chakra emerged from my palm, as well as the slightest whiff of burning flesh.

Ow.

Chikage waved her arm in front of her torso, creating either a bullseye target or the illusion of a bullseye target. I thrust the ball of plasma right into the center of the target. Her body destabilized almost as soon as the probably-poorly-thought-out concoction of chakra touched her. While some was... ruined, I guess, by the attack, the majority of the chakra Chikage was made from was sucked back into my body. With the chakra came her memories, which was... interesting. I feel like I should note, though, that getting pyrolectrocuted hurts like the dickens.

"Is everything okay?" Uncle asked as he barged in. "I heard crackling sounds."

I casually stuck my hands in my pockets. "Yeah. I tried to use lightning release. Do you think you could ask Dad if I could get official training? That kinda hurt."

He looked concerned. "Are you hurt?"

I gave him a thumbs-up with my unburned hand. "Yeah, just a little stinging. Nothing a little healing factor won't cure. You should see the other guy."

"O...kay..." He thankfully left without much question, allowing me to take the other hand out and assess the damage. The friction from just taking it out of my pocket stung.

"Eeee..." I winced. I mean, it didn't look like it was too bad of a second degree burn, but... it was blackened. I really hoped that was just soot. I applied some red chakra to it and it thankfully just flaked off and didn't scar or anything. "Not doing that again, at least without adult supervision. Hope my pocket isn't ruined..." I tilted my head a bit. "Now before I can forget, I should probably do this." I activated my Shoraigan and sent a message coded to two certain iterations of my past self. Sure, it'd have happened anyway because of diverging timelines, but insert dead Daves joke here. "Right," I said. "Now that that's over. Chikage, out." She didn't do anything. I blinked. I could definitely feel her somewhere in me, but...

Oh.

I was Chikage. Well that was interesting. I concentrated on what I'd done before and felt a small snap in the back of my head.

"I'm back," she said in my head. Red chakra flowed from my body, forming Chikage, arms crossed and leaning back onto thin air. "Is that what it feels like to fuse?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I guess maybe with Pink Steven it was, just with less nearly dying and womanchildish giants."

She chuckled and picked me up. "C'mon, we gotta do it now."

I smiled and hugged her, laughing. She hugged me back. We started laughing and spinning each other until we just melted back together. "Ah, good times," I said. "Now we should probably get a training ground so I can see what I... you... we... can do..." I sighed. "Man, this is going to be weird..."

#fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #naruto #Foresight is 20/20 #F20 CH11

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cilliansaccent · 4 years

Text

Class of Temptation - CHAPTER SEVEN

Leave a like, reblog or comment below to show your support and love! Enjoy…

PLEASE READ:

No mention of Cillian’s true family or relatives. All names are made up.

This is a TEACHER x STUDENT fanfiction, it’s going to be kinky and very taboo!

I will write whenever the mood grabs me, so I apologise if there are long breaks between chapters :)

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Background: Tessa is a twenty-three-year-old model from a broken-up family, living in London with her best friend and starting a course on Drama and Theatre. Though, when she gets closer to the super hot Mr Murphy who is her much older teacher, there is a battle of lust and love between them. They’ll have to figure out what to do with their tight relationship as other issues begin to rise and nip at their heels…

Word Count: 1,800

!!Warnings!!: Light mention of homophobic slur at the beginning with Julian.

Chapter Name: Private Lesson

Brief Chapter Outline: Tessa faces of with Sofia once more and helps out her friend Julian. But the consequences of her actions may end up bad for Tessa. Her first lesson with Cillian alone starts.

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

Tessa's weekend was once again packed and busy. Another quick trip overseas but this time she was able to make her class like a normal person. And today she had her first private lesson with Cillian. They would meet up about half an hour after class in a smaller classroom in the library to go over some theory work.

She wondered whether this was legal or in any way right for a professor to do. She heard stories where teachers would give you a task and it was up to you to finish it or not and that they wouldn't care for the outcome.

Cillian, on the other hand, was pretty adamant that he would help her through the term.

Heading down the hall, Tessa shook her head. She really didn't want to do this. But, ugh, the look he gave her she felt so compelled to just do what he wanted. She wondered if this man had some magical powers, she honestly felt this odd gravitational pull to him.

As she passed a door she saw something odd happen inside. She peeked through the little rectangular window and saw Julian, his head bowed as Sofia and her vultures surrounded him. She could hear atrocious words be spoken to him, belittling him for who he was.

"Hey Tess," Elijah came beside her, "Whatcha looking at?"

But Tessa didn't hear him as she shoved the door open, "What the fuck are you doing?" Tessa snapped, walking right up to Sofia and standing between her and Julian.

"Teaching this freaky faggot a lesson." She went to grab Tessa to push her out of the way but Elijah yelled.

"Hey! Get the fuck out of here, Sofia. No one gives a shit about what or who you are. Don't you dare touch her." Elijah stormed up as Sofia scoffed and stepped back.

"What you gonna stand up to these two freaks? Thought you were better than this. Shoulda stayed with me, Eli, showed you the right pathway." Sofia rolled her eyes.

"You're cruel and just because you are rich, doesn't mean you gotta belittle others. Disgusting. I'm glad I broke up with you." Elijah growled.

As the two exes's fought, Tessa turned to Julian, cupping his face. He wasn't physically hurt, which was good. "Jules, hey. Look at me. Are you okay?" She asked.

The girls had finally left the classroom.

Julian looked up, his eyes full of tears, "Just leave me alone." He pushed her hands away and grabbed his bag and ran out quickly. She must've said worse things to him, Tessa thought.

"You should report this," Elijah said, turning to Tessa.

"First I'll talk to Julian. And then we can go together if he wants to." Tessa thought. She learned that Julian did not want many people to know about him being gay, and if she stirred the pot...

"I don't think you should. Sofia isn't the type to just stop." Elijah said.

Tessa knew that. The bitch constantly muttered degrading words to her as they passed the hallway, which made her much more self-conscious of herself. Or even stole money from her.

"I might. Take it up with my teacher." Tessa nodded. Julian was her best male friend and she didn't want to see him hurt. She wondered if this wasn't the first time, either.

"Good. Come on, lemme walk you to your class." Elijah slung an arm around her shoulders and they walked together. "Probably bad timing to ask, but you uh... wanna go out tonight? For dinner?"

She frowned, "What time?"

"I dunno, like, around eight? I can pick you up." He offered as they came to the classroom door, people were walking in.

She thought of the lesson she had today with Cillian, "Let me get you back on that. But hopefully, we can." She smiled sweetly.

"Awesome. See ya 'round, lovely." He kissed her cheek which made her blush profusely as he left her be.

She hurried inside and took her spot beside Julian, who still kept his head down.

The class continued on as usual and ended as usual, only that Julian left very quickly before she could talk to him. She sighed before she felt a hard flick on the back of her head as Sofia waltzed by.

Tessa rubbed her head and packed up as Cillian came up to her, "We still okay for today?" He asked not seeing what just happened.

"Oh yeah. Library in half an hour." Tessa nodded as she threw her bag over her shoulder.

"Great," he smiled, making the corners of his eyes crinkle, "See you then," He said before she left the room.

She took a quick stop in the bathroom before she came out of the stall.

Only to find Sofia and her hounds with her, "What's your deal with Elijah?" Sofia asked, arms folded across her fake chest.

"Nothing. We're just friends." Tessa said as she washed her hands, not liking how they got closer to her.

"Doesn't seem like it. He backs your whore ass as well as that cocksucker you call a 'friend'." Sofia forced her to turn and held her against the wall, getting all up in her face. "You back the fuck of Elijah. He's mine."

"He isn't, he made it clear you are no longer part of his life." Tessa snapped back, trying to shove her off.

The next moment made her also scream as Sofia held up her fist as if she would punch her. But lucky enough her hounds had grabbed her and tried to pull her off.

"Watch your back, whore. You make a move-" She growled as she was taken out of the bathroom.

Once they were gone, Tessa slid down the wall. She was shaking all over as she pulled her knees to her chest. The last time she felt that fear was when... Oh god, she thought with dread as tears fell down her cheeks.

She didn't know how long she was there but when she looked up and checked her time...

"Fuck," She whispered. She was ten minutes late and she hastily wiped her still falling tears and raced to the library. She went right to the rented room Cillian had told her and was sort of glad he was there. It had no windows save for the very back wall and a door with a small rectangular window.

But she did look like a mess as she came in.

"Tessa! My god, are you okay?" He stood up from the paperwork he had in front of him. His beautiful baby blues were wide with concern for her state. She really looked like a mess, eyes red as her cheeks were still marked with tears.

His lovely accent made her skin prick and she was so tempted to run into his arms and let him cradle her. But no, she couldn't. She shook her head, "I'm fine. Really don't worry." She sat down as she wiped her eyes.

"You don't look fine. Tessa," He knelt beside her, a hand on the back of the chair. "Tessa look at me."

Her leg was bouncing as she stared at the brick wall. All she could see was that fist in the air. She sniffled and tried to pull herself together. "Can we just do what I came here for, Cillian? Please?" She whispered, unable to look at him.

Cillian did not like it one bit before he sat in a chair beside her. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket and slipped it into her hand, "Okay. We can do that, but I want you to know that I am here for you. Not just as a teacher but as a friend. You are not alone in this." He said with such kindness to his tone she almost wept from it. She felt his strong hand on her shoulder and she managed to gaze at him, feeling his strength seep into her very bones.

She searched that handsome face of his, trying to find any of that fake attitude or cruelness. But there was none. Yet she was still wary about it. This kindness was much different than what Esther gave her.

"Let's get this done." She murmured, wiping her tears with the square cloth and held on to it for dear life.

"Okay. Let's start." He said nodding and began to teach her.

Tessa tried her best to stay focused but her mind was far, far from earth. Dark memories rose and her emotions conflicted with the current situation, her work, Julian, Elijah, her studies, in a few months she would see her shitty father and his equally shitty wife and her sons.

She just sat back from what she was writing, Cillian pausing his talking and looked at her.

"I want to go home." She whispered. She wanted to sleep, hide under her covers and just... be alone. The room felt so small around her, the walls closing in.

"You want to go home?" Cillian replied back. He took in her expression, it was devoid of emotion yet her eyes, so much like the ocean, was swirling with some intense emotions even he was quite shocked. Like a storm was growing, something intense and wild.

"Yeah," her voice was soft and fragile, "Just... go home. Is that okay?" She looked at him but it was clear she wasn't with him entirely.

"Sure. But Tessa," He stood up to stop her from packing up her items, "You really don't want to talk right now? You can trust me, you know you can." He wanted to reach out and touch her but that would be inappropriate and not a good time with the state she looked.

"No, Cillian. I don't. It's really not your concern either." She said with this sudden cold tone which made him slightly flinch from it.

She picked it up and shook her head, "I'll see you tomorrow Cillian. Thank you for trying." She said and brushed past him and left him there.

He knew that most teachers would try and keep pushing and definitely not allow such rude behaviour. But Cillian knew the boundaries and would wait patiently, wait until they would come forward. And he would remind Tessa constantly that he was there for her and offer silent support.

Something had happened between class and the private lesson, whatever it was he would find out and stop it. They were in the second month of this term and he did not want Tessa to fall too behind nor get herself hurt.

If anyone was hurting her, god... He would make sure that that person will be brought down.

He promised that to her. He wasn't going to let anyone in his care get hurt. No matter what.

#cillian murphy #teacher x student #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

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notorious-lightning-thief · 4 years

Text

The Stag and the Doe Chapter Three

Here is a peak at Chapter Three! Read the complete story on Ao3

What happens when Lily runs into James Potter while running around Diagon Alley after a terrible fight with her sister?

Chapter Three: With Milk and Two Sugars

Lily Evans was a young, bright, and beautiful witch. She was well-known for her poise, grace, and her canning ability to keep a cool head under pressure. Right now, she was anything but that. She was a bloody mess.

Tears streamed down her face as she marched determinedly through Diagon Alley with only one destination in mind: away. The argument she had with her sister and her stepfather just over an hour ago kept replaying in her head.

"I'll have you know I'm not coming home for Christmas. And I'm certainly not coming to your wedding!" Lily yelled at her sister, Petunia.

Their argument started when Petunia barged into Lily's room and accused her of taking her precious necklace that her boyfriend Vernon had given her. A little tuff had soon escalated to a full-fledged shouting match. Before long, the girls were at each other's throat in a competitive battle to see who could hurt the other one more.

"Good, no one wanted you there anyway!" Petunia yelled back.

"I hope you and your husband have a happy life together," Lily told her.

"I hope you have a happy life alone," she spat.

"Girls, please stop yelling," the girls' stepfather, Joseph, said timidly. He had been watching their screeching match anxiously. "The neighbors have already called twice asking if everything was ok—"

"Like you're not glad to be rid of me, too," Lily said. She grabbed her bags and started for the door.

"We wanted you gone ages ago, but no one had the heart to tell you," Petunia said, following Lily. "Especially Joseph, but since you were Mum's favorite, he couldn't say anything.

Lily swallowed a big gulp of air to prevent herself from crying. What she was saying was true; Lily knew it, Petunia knew it, Joseph knew it; it just hurt to finally hear someone say it.

"I'm leaving," she said quieter this time.

"You said that already," Petunia pointed out. "Go! Leave! Your freaky friends are the only ones that want you if you can call them friends. I bet you're even a freak among freaks."

"You've never been able to accept me for what I am!" Lily screamed. "Either of you! If Mum was still here—"

"Yeah, well, she's not," Petunia said heartlessly.

Lily then gave them a departing glare and added, "Enjoy your Lily-free life."

Petunia's words still stung an hour later. True to her word, Lily had packed up her room and departed for London, knowing that she would most likely never see her sister or her childhood home again. Without having a real destination in mind, Lily made her way to London. The Hogwarts Express didn't leave for another week, which meant she needed to find a temporary home, which is how she ended up checking-in at the Leaky Cauldron.

She now found herself wandering aimlessly through the streets of Diagon Alley, wondering how she managed to get herself into such a mess.

Calm down, Lily thought to herself. You knew this was coming. Things between us have been rocky for ages, even before mum died.

It was true. Things with her sister had been in shambles ever since Lily first left for Hogwarts nearly six years ago. Throughout those years, the Evans girls lost both their mother and their father. Instead of bringing the girls closer together, it only drove them farther apart.

This is your last year at Hogwarts, Lily chastised herself. It's time to start looking forward to the future.

Hogwarts had always been a safe haven for Lily. She needed that now more than ever. Not only were things crumbling in her Muggle life, but things in the wizarding world were looking bleaker and bleaker every day.

Lord Voldemort and his followers were on the warpath, and Muggleborns were their number one target. Not a day went by that a murder wasn't reported about in The Daily Prophet. Lily's future hung in a delicate balance. Being a Muggleborn herself, she was always looking over her shoulder in both the Muggle world and the Wizarding world. Even at Hogwarts, she didn't feel completely safe. Not after everything that went down with her ex-best friend, Severus Snape.

Woah girl don't go down that path, Lily tried to calm herself as that fateful day from the end of fifth year came to mind. Screw Severus, screw Petunia, screw Voldemort. This is my last year at Hogwarts, and I'll be damned if it isn't the best year of my life.

With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths to collect herself. Don't let them see they have gotten to you. Keep your head held high.

Feeling much more put together than she did ten minutes ago, Lily took a few steps forward to start back on her way. She didn't get very far when she ran straight into someone, nearly sending them both into the ground.

Two hands grabbed her shoulders, two very strong and sturdy hands. "I am so sorry, are you alright?" Lily's savior said, steadying them both.

"It's my fault. I wasn't looking at where I was going." Lily's arms were trapped in front of her, resting lightly on the man's chest as the stranger continued to hold her shoulders.

"Alright, Evans?" the voice said. She knew that voice. She knew that line. Lily's eyes snapped up, and she found herself looking at the face of the last person she would want to run into right now, James Potter. This is not how she wanted to see James for the first time since admitting her crush on him two months ago.

"Potter?!" Lily exclaimed. Lily felt a blush creeping its way up her neck and towards her cheek. She was still pressed tightly against his chest and couldn't help but notice how broad and firm it was. She found herself actively resisting the urge to run her hands all over it.

She cleared her throat and quickly straightened herself out. She stepped out of his arms and questioned, "What are you doing here?".

"Back to school shopping," he replied with a broad smile. His smile wavered when he got a good look at Lily's face, and she knew exactly what he was seeing. Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair was a tangled mess of curls, and the blush that was clearly visible on her cheeks, but that she knew had nothing to do with the events that happened earlier, but with the handsome man that stood in front of her right now.

"Seriously, Lily, are you alright?" James asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, just a little embarrassed at how clumsy I am. Sorry for nearly taking you down," Lily laughed, trying to lighten the situation.

"It was completely my fault," James said, which was a lie, but she appreciated it anyway. "It's good to see you."

Once again, Lily was reminded just how much James Potter had changed. All last year she watched and took note as James stopped hexing people, stop drawing attention to himself, and stopped his insistent unwanted advances on her. Because of this, they had been able to develop a tentative friendship that mostly involved awkward small talk when they found themselves sitting together in the Great Hall or in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Their newfound friendship had also led to them nearly kissing on several occasions. Occasions she had been fantasizing about all summer long.

"It's good to see you, too, James," Lily responded. "Fancy running into you here."

James laughed. "Literally. You don't seem alright though, Lily. Have you been crying?"

Dammit, Lily thought. Not only had James Potter stopped talking about himself constantly, but he had also started being an observant and sensitive person, much to Lily's dismay at this particular point in time.

"Is it that obvious?" Lily sniffled. It was clearly written all over her face. Lily hated showing weakness, she hated crying, and she hated doing both of those things in front of James Potter.

"Just a little," James offered a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she snapped. She felt bad after looking at the pain on his face. She was being unfair, and she knew it. "It's just family stuff. Thank you for offering, but I think I just need to get my mind off things. That's what I was trying to do anyway. Didn't really work out that well since I nearly took down the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

James laughed. "It takes a lot more than a pretty girl knocking into me to take me down." James looked at her thoughtfully, perhaps worried by calling her "pretty." James had lasted all sixth year without asking Lily Evans on a date, a personal record. However, they still ran into moments like this where James would drop an off-handed compliment, or Lily would catch him staring at her for a few seconds too long.

Lily quickly brushed the compliment off, "That's good to hear. I wouldn't want to take you out before the season even started. I would be labeled 'Public Enemy Number One' within Gryffindor Tower."

"McGonagall would have your head," they both laughed at this. It was safe to say their Head of House was more than just a little aggressive when it came to her Quidditch Team. She took a lot of pride in maintaining their claim as Quidditch Cup Champions.

While they laughed, she couldn't help but notice just how damn handsome he was. She had always known James was good looking, even when she despised him. But recently, she started realizing that he was drop-dead gorgeous. She found herself fantasizing about him more and more each day in more graphic detail. Friends can think about each other that way, right? God, I sure hope James Potter is not an accomplished Legilimens, Lily prayed.

"Do you want some company?" James asked shyly. That was new. James Potter was never shy, especially not while asking her out.

That's not what he's doing, Lily corrected herself. He's just being a good friend. That's what you are now, friends.

"Sure," Lily responded with a smile.

Read the rest of the chapter on Ao3

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

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What Might Have Been - 19

@goodomenscelebration - Themes

Quite a lot has gone up! Read all chapters on AO3!

Still trying to post as many as I can but my computer is going wonky. The final 2 may have to wait for the morning (and then a break as I write more - it’s outlined, I swear!).

(CW: cliffhanger that I’m not resolving tonight! we are overdue for a POV switch)

(Also CW for Aziraphale being injured)

For those who missed the previous sections, “Kasbeel” is the name Aziraphale is traveling under. He is in an alternate universe, and the AU Aziraphale is not nice.

Stars

Kasbeel landed on the far side of Milton Keynes and hummed his wings. They would hear it, even at this distance, but it would take his godchildren some time to find the parking lot. Time they didn’t have.

He set Alex down beside the glass doors of the enormous steel building. They didn’t slide open automatically, but few things worked anymore. “I’m going to need to leave you here while I gather the others,” Kasbeel explained. “I believe there is a café of some description inside. See if any food survived the last seven years, you should know what to look for.”

“Ok,” Alex glanced nervously at the nearly-black sky. “They…the angels aren’t coming back, right?”

“I don’t know.” A metal fence ran beside the walkway, each pole twisted and rusted through. He picked out one that looked mostly solid and snapped it free. “If anyone tries to bother you, hit them with this repeatedly and scream as loud as you can.”

“Yes, sir!” Alex grinned, taking the metal rod.

“Oh, and as our people arrive, let them know they’re to gather at the covered area over there.” He pointed right. “I will return shortly.”

As he turned away, a wave of nausea – exhaustion – overtook Kasbeel. He ignored it, wiping more golden blood from his forehead. Not yet. Not yet.

Two hours later, Lyla stood just past the covered walkway, watching Kasbeel return from the dark sky. He flew much lower than he usually did, though he only carried Sofia. He stumbled as he landed, but carefully placed the nine-year-old girl onto the ground. “That’s…that’s all I could find.”

“Inez is still missing,” Lyla said. “And Ravi.”

“No, they were with me,” Sophia said, tears in her eyes. “Angels got them. They told me to hide under a car and…it worked…”

“That’s everyone accounted for, then,” Kasbeel said. She’d never realized an angel could look so pale. “Seven taken. I…I’m truly sorry…I did my best…”

Lyla pulled his arm over her shoulders and he leaned on her, heavily. “Look, you need rest. Why don’t you find someplace to stay for the…the night…” she glanced up at the blue-black sky, cinder sun still well above the horizon. Stars were already coming out. “We’ll be fine here.”

“No. You won’t.”

A murmur ran through the crowd. Ella was gesturing at Lyla to bring him over, several others were talking to Mickey. Some of the looks shot towards Kasbeel were grateful. Most weren’t.

“I think…I think they’re going to have some questions for you.”

“Ah. They saw him. I’m surprised I was able to keep it secret as long as I did.” He pushed himself upright. “Do you still trust me, Lyla?”

“I…don’t know. Should I?”

Instead of answering, he shuffled forward, resting his hands on the railing. “I suppose you’ve all heard by now.” A hush fell over the gathering, and his weakened voice seemed to carry, reverberating through the air. “And I want to tell you…it’s true. I am Aziraphale. Angel of the Eastern Gate, Principality of Earth. But not this Earth.”

To Lyla, it was just a rush of voices; she couldn’t make any sense of the shouts. But he just nodded as if he heard every word. “You’re right. It doesn’t make any sense. I fell through a – a hole in the sky, and I wound up here. On my Earth, none of this happened. We stopped the Apocalypse. No, I was barely involved. The humans stopped it, mostly.” He looked around the crowd. “I don’t know why that didn’t happen here. But I am…truly sorry for everything you have suffered.”

Another roar from the crowd, backing away, pulling the children from him. “This isn’t a trick!” He lost his balance for a moment, almost bending double over the railing. “What would I have to gain? The Guardian…the other Aziraphale…he could have taken all of you…”

Lyla stepped up beside him, rested a hand between his wings. “Kasbeel…I mean, A – Aziraphale…perhaps you should go. We can find our way to London from here. It’s only another week, maybe less.”

“You won’t make it!” He pointed to the sky. “The sun is already being extinguished. Next the moon, then the stars will fall – three days at most, almost certainly less.” He looked around the crowd, struggling to regain his composure. “I don’t know if you’ll be safe there, I don’t know if anywhere is safe, but…I will get you there. I promised.”

“How?” she demanded. “You’re half-dead and it’s forty miles away.”

“My dear Lyla. Don’t you know where you are?” He gestured around the enormous parking lot, towards the oversized vehicles left abandoned by the covered waiting area. “This is a bus station.”

Aziraphale leaned against the largest bus, trying to catch his breath. Not that he needed to breathe, but it really shouldn’t hurt this much to do so. He was only bleeding from a few spots, but he suspected the damage was worse than he’d originally thought.

He didn’t know what would happen if he discorporated here. So, he would simply have to do his level best not to.

Lyla stepped off the bus, shaking her head. “Well, it’ll only fit about seventy-five people, but you’ll be lucky if that many are willing to let you drive them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I never learned to drive.” He shifted, pressing a hand against his ribs. “I’m going to fly it.”

“Fly it?” She glanced down the length of the bus, about seventy or eighty feet, several tons of steel. “Is that…something angels can do?”

“Well, I managed it once.” He smiled as confidently as he could. “Er, with two bodies on a scooter. But the principle is the same, and if I can replicate the feat, we should be in London in, oh, a matter of minutes. And across that energy barrier. I believe I know how to cross it.”

Lyla leaned closer, running a finger over the cut on his forehead. It stung, in a strangely bright way, causing stars to flash across his vision. “Fine. Is that something you can do? You look like you’re in a lot of pain.”

“I am.” He grimaced. “But my friend is in worse pain.” He could still hear the screams from the video. How long had Crowley been screaming? “I will see you all safe, and then I will rescue him and…”

“And what? You just told me the world ends in three days.”

“Well, precisely.” He smiled, trying to make it more hopeful than he actually felt. “Plenty of time. Once Crowley and I start working together…”

His eyes fell on the moon, just past first quarter, rising above the horizon. It was red as blood.

“Everyone on the bus.”

No one moved.

“Please. I promise I will get you there.”

Ollie started to walk forward, but Mickey grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

“My friends…” He pushed himself to stand up straight, ignoring the flashes of light at the edges of his vision. “No. I suppose I can’t call you that. If I were really your friend, I would have told you the truth from the beginning. But despite that, you trusted me. For nearly three and a half years, you’ve followed me, and I tried to keep you from danger.”

He shuffled forward, and the crowd pulled back slightly. “I know. I failed. We lost seven people today. I’ve led you, without supplies, without shelter to Milton Keynes of all places. But I won’t abandon you here. Let me lead you, one more time, to safety. And then you can…you can all leave, and spend what time you have left as you wish.”

Silence settled over the bus station.

“Wow. You know we don’t care about any of that, right?” Alex stepped forward still holding the metal bar. “Look, can that freaky double read your mind?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Er. No, not in any meaningful way.”

“Can he sense where you are?”

“Not at all, I should think.”

“The first time, he stood as close to you as I am now,” Lyla remembered. “Never even turned his head.”

“Alright.” Alex turned and waved to the crowd. “You heard them. Everyone on the bus.” And immediately, two hundred and seventy-three humans surged forward, filing quietly onboard.

“That’s…why…?” Aziraphale stared after them, at a loss for words.

Alex stepped next to him and scoffed. “You really think we didn’t trust you? Come on, Kasbeel, have a little faith.”

It would have taken much more than a miracle to sit that many people comfortably. They sat in each other’s laps, stood in the aisle and the doorwells, pressed as tightly together as the human body allowed. Someone even attempted to ride in the loo, but quickly abandoned that idea.

“I imagine this is how it feels to ride the Underground,” the angel commented, looking for a button that might start the bus.

“So if you never learned to drive,” Lyla asked, pressed against the back of his seat, “and you never rode public transport, how did you ever get anywhere? Flying?”

“Heavens, no. Crowley drove me.” A pained smiled fought across his face. “Ah, this must be it.”

He pressed the button.

The engine revved, and kept revving, several octaves above its usual pitch.

The bus jolted, pressing two hundred and seventy-four humans (and one angel) even closer together. Several in the aisle would have fallen from the change in balance, except there wasn’t even room to move.

“Right. Everyone hold on to…something!”

The whine of the engine reached a level humans couldn’t even hear.

And the bus shot forward.

The speedometer topped out at 150 mph, but they accelerated past that in the first seconds.

All along the M1, abandoned cars vibrated, bits of rock trembled in the still air.

A flash of blue-shifted light, shaped something like an inter-city bus, streaked past ten feet above the ground, vanishing in a blaze of red against the star-speckled sky. Five seconds later, anything on the motorway that was still flammable spontaneously ignited.

By the time the sonic boom arrived, the bus was nearly to London.

“What’s that? Is that it?” Lyla leaned over the angel’s shoulder straining to see through the windscreen.

“I hardly think that could be possible, we haven’t been driving for two minutes.”

“But we’ve got to be going nearly the speed of light!”

“My dear child, no. That would be dangerous.”

“We wouldn’t have passed that quickly if it was London,” Mickey pointed out. “Looked like a couple of warehouses.”

“There! That’s it!”

“No, that’s a service station,” said Mrs. Sherwood, somehow managing to stand despite carrying a child on each hip. “Used to be where you’d stop to put petrol in the car.”

“Oh. Hey,” Lyla leaned forward again. “Do we need petrol? Because if it takes more to drive fast, than we’d probably run out—”

“Lyla, please!” The bus lurched upwards, dodging above an overpass. “I am trying to break the laws of physics here, I do not need distractions!”

“Are we there yet?” called a child’s voice.

“Yes, yes!” Lyla slapped his shoulder. “There it is! A city! Just ahead! London!”

“No, that’s too soon…”

“I see a map!” Mickey pointed to a pocket on the side of Aziraphale’s seat.

“Got it!” Lyla leaned down to grab it at the same time Mickey did, cracking their skulls together. “Ow! Come on, I’m the navigator here, I should get to read the map.”

“Who said you’re the navigator? Navigator’s the one who calls—”

“Shotgun!” Alex squeezed between them, elbowing Mickey hard in the stomach. In a flurry of paper the map spread between the teenagers, showing the whole of England.

“Right. London’s over here, isn’t it?” Lyla jabbed with a finger.

“Don’t you even know how to read? That’s Sheffield!” Mickey traced a finger across the endless squiggles. “London is…here. And we’re coming down this road, so that’s…Luton! We passed Luton.”

“Wonderful,” the angel said, jaw tight. Lyla suddenly realized the strain he was under – his forehead broken out in a sheen of sweat, the cut on his forehead dripping golden blood again.

“Are you going to make it?”

“I can…keep this up for hours,” he assured her, though his smile wasn’t very convincing.

“Hey, Kasbeel?”

“Is this important, Alex?”

“I think so.” Alex’s voice was much more subdued than normal. “I think one of the stars just fell.”

All eyes turned to the windscreen, at the stars that filled the sky between the grey sun and the blood-red moon. Ahead of them, Arcturus trembled, broke loose, and streaked down towards the horizon.

The bus accelerated.

Aziraphale was nearly gasping, bent over the wheel, trying to hold everything together. He had to think of everything, the shape of the bus, the bodies inside, the air – humans needed air, this wouldn’t work if it all pooled at the back. The edges of his vision were already fading dark, and still the stars, Crowley’s stars, fell from their appointed places.

But there, ahead, the strange heat-haze glow of the M25, the demonic sigil surrounding London, sealing everyone in. “Ha,” he said, too tired to actually laugh. He could just make out beyond it – the fields still green, still lit by a sun he couldn’t see, the towers of the city rearing high. The rumors were true. The city was safe.

As he had seven years before, Aziraphale concentrated on the counter to the sigil Odegra, which would allow him to pass across the barrier unharmed.

Nothing happened.

“Who has the map?” His hand reached frantically towards the children behind him. “Someone! I need to see the map of London!”

Paper hit his hand, and he tore his eyes away from the road just long enough to look at the shape of the M25, the crooked ring looped around London.

It was a demonic sigil.

It was not Odegra.

It wasn’t anything he recognized.

Different Earth. Different Crowley.

“Oh…fuck,” Aziraphale said weakly, as the bus careened at full speed into the wall of light.

(Is that cliffhanger enough? Also, can you believe that I nearly went straight to London after “Miracle”? Look at EVERYTHING we would have missed! Quick shout out to @angel-and-serpent who suggested having the sigil NOT be Odegra. Surprise! I don’t think this was what you expected.)

#good omens celebration #goc2020 #protective aziraphale #hurt aziraphale #guardian angel aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens fan fiction #alternate universe #the m25 #odegra #good omens #good omens prime #aziraphale is bamf #gonna get these kids to safety if its the last thing he does #and frankly it might be #my writing #What Might Have Been #ao3 #ao3 link

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