#be on the lookout for part 2 (which i will make. i promise.)

[mutantmayhems]

MUTANT MAYHEM + LETTERBOXD REVIEWS Part 1/?

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 6

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] Part 6: [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Jealous!Carmy, SoftDom!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Make up Sex, Sex Toys, P in V sex, Oral (M and F receiving), Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

You were in over your head.

Some fashion vlogger had recorded a video in your store, giving it a glowing review and it had been good for business. Maybe too good. The store was now full of stylish teenagers with baggy jeans and designer bags, you had a new hire to train, and a local journalist had emailed you to ask for an interview.

He showed up a couple of days later, tall with dark hair, and every bit as stylish as you would expect a reporter from a fashion magazine to be. You had shown him around, let him take photos, talked about your favorite brands and decades of fashion, and complimented his printed shirt.

"It's from the seventies," he commented bashfully. "I'm a little obsessed."

And he talked about his ongoing quest for the perfect pair of bell bottoms. You showed him what you had in the store and promised to be on the lookout.

"You know, it's weird," he gestured to the side, where The Bear was. "I used to come here when they did sandwiches."

"They still do!" you beamed. "The fine dining is really good too. Well, I'm biased but-"

"Right! Being their neighbor and all," he concluded. You simply nodded along - no need to let him know the intricacies of your personal life.

"Let me buy you lunch," he offered. You were about to refuse when he added. "I'd love to try their food but I hate eating alone."

You accepted. It seemed harmless and it could be good for the restaurant too - maybe he knew a food critic and would recommend the place too.

Richie guided you both to a table with a smile, quickly catching up with your plan once you mentioned the interview, offering the journalist a sampler of the menu.

It was good - the food, the conversation. It caught you by surprise when Carmy stormed out of the kitchen, something angry in his stride.

"Are you enjoying the food?"

It was a simple enough question, it was the way he said it-

"It's excellent, thank you!" the journalist said earnestly, which only seemed to wind up Carmy even more.

"Good, great," he rasped, then turned towards you. "Can I talk to you?" it was said in that clipped tone that meant he was stressed and he didn't have good news.

You followed him to the back and touched his wrist briefly, trying to convey how important this was.

"Carm?" you asked, your face wrinkling in worry and confusion.

"You mad at me or something?" he asked.

"No! Just nervous, stressed... I don't even know - it's just the interview," you tried to reassure him. "Can we talk later, baby?"

"Sorry to interrupt," the journalist had walked up to you without either of you noticing. "I just wanted to know - are you the chef here?"

"He is, yes!" you smiled, thinking everything was going according to plan.

“Carmen Berzatto,” he said without offering his hand, his frown furrowed and something deadly in his stare.

The journalist gave one look at Carmy and his face shifted from friendly to scared. "I'll give you guys a minute."

Carmy was burning holes on the back of the guy's skull and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

"What's wrong with you?" you whispered.

"That fucking guy."

"He's the fucking journalist! Are you out of your mind, Carmen?" you were losing the last shred of patience you had left. "I was trying to do a nice thing and you- We can talk about this later at home, okay? Now leave, please."

You turned away from him and didn't look back until you had paid for lunch and walked the journalist out the door.

"I'm so sorry about him," you explained. "It wasn't personal."

"Don't worry about it. I worked as a server once. I swear working in a kitchen does things to your brain..." he mimicked a spiral by his temple. You winced.

"Yeah."

"Hope he doesn't bother you again," he said, which made your stomach drop. "I'll send you the article when it's done. And you have my number if you ever find those bell bottoms."

He waved goodbye and you huffed in defeat.

Suddenly, you were being hugged by Nat, her arms around your shoulders.

"Did Carmy send you?" you asked, patting her forearm.

"Kind of," she let go of you with a sigh. "He walked in the kitchen and kind of lost it? I had to get it out of him. And when he explained, I came over."

"Thank you," you said softly.

"He can be an idiot," she said.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"He loves you, though."

"I know," you said, rubbing your temples. It had been a long day. "I'll text him."

You were pacing the carpet, waiting for Carmy to get back from work. You had a list of things you wanted to tell him ready to go: that making a scene like that had been embarrassing and hurtful, that he had probably ruined the whole interview acting that way -

Your train of thought and frantic pacing was interrupted by the key in the door. Carmy walked inside, a defeated look on his face, and every cell in your body wanted to go and hold him but you stood still, arms crossed while he closed the door behind him.

"Hey," you said.

"Hey, I, uh," he stumbled. "What I said... What I did... I mean, even Richie thought that it was fucked up so..."

He let it hang there, in the air between you two, keeping his distance.

"Carm," you took a deep inhale. "I need you to understand the store is just as important to me as the restaurant is to you. It's finally going well. And maybe that means I have less time for you. I need to know that you'll be okay with it - with me being busy sometimes - that whatever that was won't happen again."

"I know, I know," he said looking at the ground. "I'm happy it's working out. I am."

You tilted your head. "Then what the hell happened?"

He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"It's so stupid," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I got jealous. So fucking jealous. I had never- I didn't know what to do with it."

You uncrossed your arms - you actually hadn’t thought of that.

"No need to be, Carm," you reassured him.

"I just-" he blinked hard like he sometimes did when he was stressed. "This tall as fuck guy, with the fancy fucking shirt, just being charming around you..."

"You think I care about that shit?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Carmy looked at you with wide eyes. "I'm an asshole sometimes, I cancel plans, my family is a fucking mess-"

"Hey, I like Nat!" you interrupted his spiral.

"And I think she likes you better than me."

You stood in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry. I am," he said in the end.

You moved one step closer and pressed your forehead to his. "It's okay if you're jealous, Carm. Just- keep your cool if it happens again. Please," you said softly. "I don't know if I can handle you acting like that again."

He nodded. "Promise."

"I'm coming home to you, baby. No one else," you emphasized, running your hands over his chest.

"Mhmm," he tilted his head, eyes closed, like he wanted to kiss you but needed your permission. You surged forward, trapping him in a tight embrace and a searing kiss.

It got heated quickly.

He cornered you towards the kitchen, grabbing and pressing, until you were sitting on the counter, legs bracketing his hips, hands in his hair.

"Carmy," you gasped, as he kissed your neck like only he knew how. His tongue traced the contour of your collarbone and you moaned.

He undid the first few buttons of your blouse, burying his face between your breasts, kissing and nipping. You carded your fingers through his hair, and crossed your legs behind him, keeping him close. The heat between your thighs was getting more unbearable as time went by. He started kissing down, like he would eat you out, atoning for what happened, but you didn't want that.

You pulled on his hair and made him look up. "I need you inside me," he exhaled shakily. "Now."

He took a condom out of his back pocket while you unbuttoned his slacks, undressing him just enough to free his cock. His hands went under your skirt, eager, and moved your underwear to the side. When Carmy leaned to start fingering you, you grabbed his wrist.

"I need your cock inside me," you clarified.

You didn't want the tenderness of foreplay. You moved to the edge of the counter, taking his cock in hand and putting the condom on yourself. You guided his head to your entrance and felt him fill you out. It hurt a little, your pussy tight and unprepped, and weirdly that was what you wanted now. You whined once he bottomed out and he groaned at the feeling, the sound making you roll your eyes.

"Fuck," you held him close, arms around his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life. Without knowing where it came from, you said to the side of his face: "Show me I'm yours."

He inhaled sharply, his hands shaking where they held your waist. Then his hips moved back and forth in one long, agonizing stroke. You moaned. Again. And you held him tighter, letting drowned out cries pour out from your lips. He kept going for a little while, the pace so slow that it made you wonder whether all his anger had fizzled out by now.

Except he started going hard, hitting that spot that made you dizzy. Your breasts and legs were shaking with every thrust. You covered your mouth to stop from screaming.

"Holy shit, Carmy" you mumbled.

His hands touched all over, scratching your thighs and up, squeezing your hips, tracing your sides, caressing your arms and holding your wrists. You shivered. His cock kept hitting just right, his mouth exhaling on the side of your face. His hand traveled south, finding your clit like it was second nature, thumbing at it in small circles, just the way you liked.

"No one can fuck me like this," you whined. "No one makes me feel this good."

His hips stuttered and he moved so that your foreheads were touching and his eyes were staring right into yours, you could feel the sweat on his brow.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you replied, your jaw slack as you kept panting and moaning. His pace was so steady that it felt like Carmy could go on forever. Then, impatient, you started thrusting your hips against his, making it go twice as fast, making him groan into your mouth and start losing control.

"Fuck," he cursed, grabbing your hips, steadying himself. "I'm so crazy about you."

"Carmy," you managed to say, desperate, your voice getting high, and your nails scratching at his scalp.

His free hand squeezed your breast over your bra and you slipped your hands under his shirt, caressing the hair on his navel, and up his chest, pinching one of his nipples hard.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned again.

You were so close you could almost taste it. Just then you grabbed his face with both hands.

"Tell me," you pleaded. "Tell me you'll never do that again. Tell me I'm yours."

"Never. Never, I promise," Carmy breathed into your mouth, little desperate sounds escaping his throat. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine."

He came with a strong exhale, drowning every other sound into your neck. His thumb on your clit kept moving until you joined him, completely spent, bracing on the edge of the counter to stop yourself from falling back.

He placed gentle kisses on your throat while you both recovered your breath. You clenched your walls around his cock, drawing a satisfied moan out of him.

"Did you get the guy's contact?" he panted against your skin.

"Yeah, why?" you replied ruffling his hair with your exhale.

"Thought I'd send him a cannoli or something," Carmy looked up from his place on your chest. "Make sure what I did doesn't make you look bad."

You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing.

"I don't think that's necessary but I'm sure he'll appreciate it. He said something about wanting to marry whoever made the desserts," you teased.

"Don't think Marcus'll be interested," Carmy inhaled deeply, his nose on the exact place you sprayed perfume every morning, though by now it had probably faded into a saltier scent. "When's the article coming out?"

"Couple of weeks," you hummed, caressing his back under his shirt.  "We have time, baby. So much time."

~

You were leaning on the kitchen door, watching as Carmy and Syd posed against the counter. A photographer was giving them vague instructions about where to stand and where to look. She was also complimenting Carmy and hitting on him like she was getting paid overtime for it.

"Sydney, lean forward, yes, nice! Carmen, hit me with those blue eyes! Gorgeous, what a handsome guy!" she said with a cat-like smile.

The restaurant was going to be featured in Food & Wine, which entailed a photoshoot.

They had both started wearing their chef's whites, going for a more professional approach. Then, to make them more comfortable, the photographer asked them to change into their street clothes. It had done wonders for Syd, who was now showing off one of her mother's beautiful shirts with a proud smile on her face. It hadn't been quite as successful with Carmy - he had a tortured look in his eyes. Now he was standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, even more withdrawn than when they had started, every wink and cheesy one-liner from the photographer making him wince.

"Okay, Sydney, a little to the side. Exactly, chin up, please! And Carmen - why don't you stand this way? Yeah, let's show off those arms."

You bit your bottom lip.

"Carm?" you called him - he turned with wide eyes. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He nodded. "Sorry, excuse us," he mumbled, leaving the kitchen quickly, trailing behind you. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry," he said, his blue eyes pleading.

"What for?"

"All the things she's saying..." he turned briefly, making sure the door was closed. "Fuck, I don't mean to-"

"You're not doing anything wrong, baby," you reassured him, cupping his face gently. "It looked like you needed a break, is all."

"Yeah," he exhaled heavily. "It's a lot."

You nodded. "The kitchen looks really nice," you commented to lighten the mood. They had done a deep clean the day before that had run into midnight.

"Thanks," he smiled. Then added: "This is a fucking nightmare."

You intertwined your fingers with his. "I think-" you paused, "that she wants you to look confident. That's why she keeps saying nice things."

"They don't feel nice," he bit his cheek.

You remembered how hard it had been for him to accept compliments for anything other than his cooking when you had first started dating. He would scoff and dismiss every word. Even now, sometimes it felt like he didn't quite believe them and maybe was just humoring you - which broke your heart. There wasn't enough time to unpack all that, so instead you leaned forward, placing one hand on his hip, whispering to his ear, flirtatious.

"Carm, I want you to go in there and eye fuck that camera like you would if it was me," he took a sharp inhale. "I will make it worth your while. Let you do anything you want to me," you promised.

He gulped. "Jesus," he mumbled, his pupils dilated.

You gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. "I'll tell them you'll be back in a few minutes," you said with a satisfied grin and went back to your place by the kitchen door.

"He went for a quick smoke," you lied to Syd.

When Carmy returned, he was in control, hands on his hips, like he had suddenly remembered he owned the place.

"Okay, guys, let's get this over with," he took his place next to Sydney, leaning on the counter and staring right into the lens, something defiant in his stance.

Your heart started racing. Even the photographer seemed affected by the shift.

"Uh, yes, good," after a few clicks she said: "I think we got it. Mmm, one more from this angle and we'll be good to go."

She led them to the main entrance to The Bear, Sydney crossing her arms and Carmy mirroring that same stance. They looked like they had stepped out of a magazine, modeling some understated and ridiculously expensive brand. Carmy looked in your direction for a second and licked his lips, before he turned back to the camera, unflinching and determined.

Another few clicks.

"Thank you guys, that would be all," the photographer went up to shake their hands and say her goodbyes. You were about to follow her out when Carmy took you by the wrist.

"See you tonight," he drawled and you felt yourself get wet.

"When I said you could do anything you wanted to me, I wasn't expecting this," you panted, your hands buried in Carmy's curls, as he kept kissing and licking every inch of your pussy. He was taking his sweet time too, biting on your thighs and going up to give some attention to your breasts and neck whenever he felt you were getting too close to your release.

"What were you expecting?" he asked, an amused glow to his face while he rested his chin on your hip, his mouth and nose shiny with your arousal.

"I don't know," you sighed, frustrated but so turned on. His hand caressed your pussy gently and you moaned. "Give you a blowjob, wear a silly costume, something like that."

"And are you into that?" he asked.

"I do like to suck your cock," you said honestly. Sometimes, with other guys, it had felt like a chore, not with Carmy, you loved to see him come undone, let go completely.

"See, the thing is," he kissed the curve of your hip, "if you gave me a blowjob it would be over so quickly," he exhaled right on your spread out clit which made you shudder. "And where's the fun in that?"

You giggled giddily when he squeezed your ass, manhandling you closer to his face, keeping his focus on your pussy.

"So you're just going to edge me until I beg?" you asked, half wanting for him to say yes.

"Don't worry," he gave a long lick, from the bottom of your lips to the top, making you arch your back and curse. "You will come," there was something dark in his eyes again, that same determination from the photoshoot back in his face - he was in charge. "When I want you to."

You shivered. "Fuck, Carm."

He started sucking on your clit, his tattooed fingers curling inside of you. You melted under his touch, feeling your pussy squeeze his fingers.

"Please, Carmy..."

He stopped sucking, messing with the rhythm, keeping you hanging by a thread.

"You will come," he repeated, "when I want you to," the speed of his fingers increased. "As many times as I want you to."

You moaned. His mouth latched onto your clit, licking until you were thrashing on the bedsheets, his forearm kept you in place on the mattress.

"Fuck, shit, baby," you mumbled. Your gazes met, his blue eyes fiery. He nodded and you came in a blur, desperately grabbing at anything - his hair, the bedsheets - the feeling all the more intense for the time he had spent working you up. He kept kissing and sucking until you stopped moaning and started chuckling breathily.

"Just like that," he praised, something playful in his voice and you would have teased back if you weren't so completely spent.

He kissed the outside of your folds, staying away from your clit and your entrance, just worshipping the skin around them and you caressed his hair lovingly.

"You make me feel so fucking good," you exhaled.

He climbed up your body and kissed you hard, mouth open, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock, hard inside his jeans, grazed the lower part of your belly, it made you tremble in anticipation. "You gonna fuck me?" you asked between one kiss and the next, your hips lifting up to ground on his.

He clicked his tongue. "Not yet," he got up and opened the drawer of your bedside table, taking out your rabbit vibrator. "This charged?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

"Good girl," he praised and your hand squeezed your breast almost unconsciously; something happened to you whenever he talked to you like that.

He lowered himself next to you, held up by one arm; his hand teased your pussy, his calloused fingers spreading wetness around.

"D'you need lube, baby?" he asked, more out of politeness than anything since he knew the answer very well.

"I think I'm okay, Carm," you laughed and he kissed the side of your face.

"Mhmm. So fucking hot," he whispered and you felt the dildo poking at your entrance.

You placed your hand on the side of Carmy's face, your thumb near the edge of his mouth. He sucked on it thoroughly, then let go with a pop. You whined needily.

"Please, please, please..." it poured out of you.

He bumped your forehead with his, his gaze was intense and hungry.

"Keep looking at me," he ordered, and you obeyed, keeping your eyes open even as the dildo went all the way inside you and filled you up deliciously. The coldness of the toy reminded you it wasn't Carmy's cock - but he was holding it, he was right there next to you. Your face contorted in pleasure.

"Yes, like that," he encouraged you, his words tickling inside your belly. He seemed to be overcome just looking at you - it made you feel wanted, adored, beautiful. You wanted to make him feel that way too.

"Carm," you gasped. "I need you to know- Oh, fuck," he pumped the toy inside you, slow, so slow. "I need you to know," you repeated through the fog of pleasure, "all those things the photographer said. They're true. Oh, my God, baby," his expression softened even as he buried the dildo deep inside you. "Your eyes are beautiful," another thrust, you caressed his face. "Your arms are so hot," you held onto the arm that was fucking you, squeezing the muscle there. "Shit. You're handsome, gorgeous, fucking- oh!" you blurted all at once, turning the compliments into moans. "I swear - fuck!" you held his gaze. "Can't believe you're mine."

He leaned forward, kissing you tenderly, swallowing your moans.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you," you replied, a choked out sound leaving your lips.

He turned on the vibration and watched you lose control, becoming desperate with lust, thrusting your hips wildly. He kept you there a bit longer than necessary, torturing you a little with how long he was drawing it out. It was so good, so fucking good.

"Carmy. Please," you begged.

"I know, I know," he soothed. "You're doing so good."

It sent a shiver down your spine and made the very last thread inside you snap.

"Oh," you exhaled, coming harder than you ever had, scratching at his forearm, screaming into the skin of his shoulder.

"Sound so nice," Carmy mumbled, looking as pussy drunk as a man could be without actually fucking one. "Baby, baby, baby."

You stayed there for a while, the dildo still inside you, and Carmy's hands touching your waist tenderly while you kissed.

After a long while of that, he got up from the bed, and started getting undressed while you watched. You bit your lip and put your head on your hand, enjoying the sight. He caught you staring.

"You really meant all those things you said," it began as a statement and ended as a question, Carmy's voice going up slightly.

"Every word," you said, taking out the dildo as Carmy showed you his cock. You licked your lips. "D'you mind? Me saying things like that?"

You wanted him to be confident but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

He shook his head. "I liked it," he admitted. He stood right by you, beside the bed, fiddling with the condom he had retrieved from your drawer. "Made me feel good."

"I'm glad, Carm," you reached out to caress his leg, following the line of muscle there. Saying he was beautiful once while you fucked wasn't going to change his mind, but you were willing to keep trying.

In the meantime, you could show him. Even with the exhaustion of everything Carmy had done to you, you wanted him inside you, wanted to see him roll his eyes in ecstasy. You crawled to where he was, kneeling, near the edge of the mattress. His cock was hard, pulsing, and it made your mouth water. He stood still, dropped the condom on the mattress, probably guessing what you were about to do.

When you were an inch away from his cock, he pulled your hair and stopped you.

He gestured at the vibrator. "Put that back inside you," he said in that demanding voice and you rushed to do as he said, only uttering a small moan when you had it inside you. He leaned over, tracing a long line from your neck to your ass, reaching to turn it back on on the lowest setting. You writhed a little but after a moment of adjusting to the feeling you were able to stay still and look at Carmy.

"Good girl," he said again and you keened, leaning forward to suck his dick. The sound he made once your mouth was on him was heavenly. "Holy fuck."

His hands were tangled in your hair and you wished you could deep throat without choking, just to watch him lose his mind completely. You settled for going as far as you could, getting every inch of him slick with saliva, making him groan and sweat. You looked up, his eyes were white and his face was flushed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to breathe. You hummed with satisfaction and that woke up his competitive streak.

He pulled on your hair lightly. "Gimme a second," he panted. You thought he needed a breather, but he actually moved to turn the vibrator up a couple of notches. You trembled and reached for his ass, bracing, leaving red scratch marks on the tender skin.

"Fuck, baby," you said between moans. "Not fucking fair."

"Mhmm," he smirked, caressing your scalp. It took all your willpower and concentration but you moved forward and went back to sucking his cock, feeling a pang of pride as he threw his head back and uttered some curse you couldn't quite decipher.

The vibrator set a pace you could follow, rocking forward as it pulsed, letting you give Carmy pleasure while you were ridiculously close to losing your mind yourself.

"Shit, baby," he gasped, his knees buckling for a second. "Make me feel- Fuck, y're so good, so good," he mumbled.

The steady pace of the vibrator was building up a tense knot inside you - you were close, and so it became a race of making Carmy come before you did. You doubled your efforts, speeding up, hollowing your cheeks, moaning into his skin.

"You're fucking killing me," he growled, pulling on your hair just the way you liked it, making you roll your eyes as you sucked on his length. You were completely overwhelmed; you couldn't help but whine over and over. "Holy fuck."

He stared right onto your eyes as he came. He had told you he didn't mind if you spit his cum but sometimes you felt like drinking it all, consumed with lust - today was one of those times. You stayed there, licking his slit, caressing his balls until he pulled you away.

"Fuck, baby," he sighed, kneeling on the carpet to look at you.

He was completely wrecked: face red and sweaty, hair messier than you had ever seen it and a glazed look in his eyes. He tilted his head to kiss you thoroughly, tasting the cum leftover on your tongue. You could finally let go. You put your hand between your belly and the mattress, maneuvering the vibrator so it hit right where you needed it and you came immediately, kissing Carmy, biting on his lips, and humping on the bed. It was too much and just enough.

Carmy helped you take it out once you started whining from feeling sore. He moved your body to lie comfortably on the bed, your head on the pillow and him next to you.

"Fucking insane," he exhaled. You chuckled in agreement, fucked out senseless. "D'you need anything?" he asked gently after a moment.

You shook your head, raising a hand to caress his face.

"I feel perfect, Carm."

You moved your index finger, tracing the contour of his eyebrows, the line of his nose, and the curve of his cheekbone. 

“Pretty,” you managed to say.

He smiled and brought you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, his arms around making you feel safe.

~

[Part 7]

~

@th3h0nkz

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

I promised that I'd show you guys what my package of DL goods actually contained.

So...

Behold my treasures╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

(Please be forewarned that the quality of the photos are shit. They were taken by an idiot with no real photography experience whatsoever. Added to that I'm not fully recovered yet and honestly didn't have the energy to do multiple takes I'm also a lazy bitch at the best of times so there's that. But to compensate I have added a list below each picture to make it fully clear what exactly is depicted in them.)

Booklets ⋆⋅☆⋆⋅

From upper left to bottom right:

More, Blood Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Vandead Carnival Special Booklet

Vandead Carnival Animate Limited Set Booklet

Vandead Carnival Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

More, Blood Limited V Edition Animate Limited Set Booklet

More, Blood Limited V Edition Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Dark Fate Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Lunatic Parade Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Grand Edition Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Lost Eden Special Booklet

Grand Edition Special Booklet

Chaos Lineage Special Stellaworth Tokuten Booklet

Daylight Special Stellaworth Complete Set Purchase Tokuten Booklet

All of these booklets contain short stories, either individual ones for each diaboy or just a singular one that involves Yui and all the diaboys from the associated game (though the stories do not necessarily have anything to do with the plot of said game. Like at all. One story is literally a Mafia AU. I'm not making this up I swear.)

There are a few booklets that I'm missing, namely the HDB ones and most of the Drama CD ones. I'm on active lookout for the latter while the former... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I honestly don't care about. No Ruki = none of my money. I'm a Ruki fan first and foremost, if that's not abundantly clear lol.

Drama CDs ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆

From upper left to bottom right:

Vandead Carnival Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

More, Blood Limited V Edition Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

Dark Fate Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

More, Blood B-2 Price Drama CD (Mukami Ver.)

Lost Eden Vol.4: Mukami Saga

Lost Eden Stella Set Bonus: Special Voice CD

Chaos Lineage Vol.3: Orange

Sadistic Night 2017 Event Pamphlet CD

Versus IV Vol.2 Shuu vs Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Drama CD: "The Vampires got a Part-time Job: Ruki"

Eternal Blood 5th Eternal Blood Vol.1 & Vol.2 Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "A Certain Day at the Mukami Household" (Ruki & Yuma)

Chaos Lineage Ebten/WonderGoo Tokuten Drama CD: “The Vampire’s Every Day: Board Game Edition ~ Ruki VS Azusa VS Kino ~”

Grand Edition Animate Situation CD

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "Monopolizing Her"

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "Living a Normal School Life For Once!"

Daylight Vol.7 Mukami Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Drama CD: "Sadistic ★ Date"

Do you notice the common thread running across all these CDs?

I remember mentioning a while back that there were only two Ruki CDs I had yet to listen to. Well, turns out I'm a fucking fool and forgot about the existence of most of the CDs on this list. I have no idea whether the majority of these are any good but my hopes are high! In any case I am very excited to give them all a listen! Or more like multiple. I'm addicted to Ruki's sexy voice what can I say.

Miscellaneous ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆

From upper left to bottom right:

More, Blood Ebten After Story Card: Shuu

More, Blood Ebten After Story Card: Ruki

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Deluxe Edition Message Card

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Mini Story Card (which ties into his Another Story CD).

In addition to these items I have three other message cards from Ruki and two of his short story papers (his More, Blood and Bloody Bouquet ones) in storage, which I'll also share in the future.

That's all I got at the moment. Again, sorry for the piss-poor quality of the photos. I'll strive to do better with the next scans I upload.

- _(´ω`_)⌒)_

[ashleyleygraves]

Every time I look at Tears of the Kingdom criticisms, they aren't even about actual criticisms, they just don't like the story. It's fine to not like the story. But when you criticize, you need to explain why and how you would've fixed the problem. (No, saying "I would've changed the whole story" is not the why and how.)

For example, I didn't like that there wasn't any explanation on where the Sheikah technology went until a developer basically panicked in an interview and said that it just vanished after the Calamity. I would've made it so that while Purah is explaining the Purah Towers and/or Purah Pad, she offhandedly commented that she got the parts from the guardians/shrines/Divine Beasts.

What really irks me is the "but the story doesn't line up to past Zelda games" that's right. Good job on understanding that. Ocarina of Time had 2 direct sequels: Majora's Mask and Wind Waker. Zelda 1 has a direct sequel: Link's Adventure. Wind Waker has a direct sequel: Phantom Hourglass. Breath of the Wild has a direct sequel: Tears of the Kingdom.

The only thing that was promised was that it was a sequel (and technically also prequel) to Breath of the Wild. People take the timeline way too seriously. Twilight Princess is technically after Majora's Mask, but we are only told that from the timeline. The Hero's Shade was hinted at being the Hero of Time, but just like the Bridge of Hylia existing in BotW/TotK those hints were just made as a reference.

The Zelda timeline doesn't make sense. Why did 4 Sword adventure take place in the Child timeline? How does a "the hero is killed" timeline exist if the hero canonically wins? Why is it only Ocarina of Time that had the timeline split when time travel is a common thing in many Zelda games?

Sure, you are allowed to not like the story, but stop blaming it on Nintendo not caring about the Zelda timeline. They were all meant to be a brand of games with the same name, we as a community just wanted a timeline, so Nintendo just made one and threw it at us.

If you want to argue that it has no connection to Breath of the Wild, please replay the game again and see how many things are connected:

If you've played BotW, your horses transfer over

Zelda has made monuments dedicated to the people that lost their lives to Calamity Ganon

People still remember him. I've seen arguments that people don't; so I will say: talk to the Zora, the people around Lookout Landing, Master Kohga, the Sheikah, some of the Rito, Riju and her right hand, and Yunobo.

If you've beaten the Champions' Balad DLC, you keep the picture of the Champions.

Anyway, I just needed to rant because I keep seeing "criticisms" that are just bitching at the story, which as I said before: if you don't like the story, that's your opinion, but don't think that's what a criticism is because it's not.

[ktwritesstuff]

The Babysitter (a Last of Us fanfic) pt. 3

Title: The Babysitter Fandom: The Last of Us Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Joel Miller x Reader Word Count: ~2000 Summary: Playing house with Joel is not all it's cracked up to be. As always, lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional content notes below the cut

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (below cut) | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Content Notes & Warnings: mentions of assault, depression, p-in-v sex, & violence.

I consider my personal brand to be "All your faves want to fuck fat chicks" but the post-apocalyptic setting makes that harder to convey. Given that the diet culture of the 90s and early 2000s fucked us all, be on the lookout for body talk and mentions of disordered eating.

Atlanta 2007

It was a miracle you were alive.  That was what the doctors said when Joel and Tommy managed to find a FEMA clinic nearly 48 hours later.  The bullet had hit Joel first, just grazing him, but slowed down enough that when it struck you the impact didn’t send you into cardiac arrest.  It entered a few inches below your right shoulder, missing the lung, the subclavian artery, and the bundle of nerves controlling your arm, and exited the top of your chest before lodging in Sarah’s stomach where it tore her apart from the inside.  Some miracle.

The clinic doctors decided to send you to Dallas by helicopter, where there was supposed to be a working trauma center.  Of course, by the time you got there everything had gone to shit.  But the fluids and antibiotics they had already pumped into you kept you stable.  You hunkered down for a few weeks until Joel and Tommy decided it was safe to move you.  

From there you headed east, eventually making your way to a refugee camp in Atlanta.  It was a fucking mess–most folks had fled their homes without gathering important documents, but the bureaucrats were still insisting on trying to verify peoples’ identities.  The people outside were begging and bribing for someone to vouch for them.   

With Tommy being military, the government knew everything down to what underwear he had on; Joel managed to hang on to his wallet so thankfully he still had photo ID.

“This is my daughter,” he said, pushing you in front of him at the gate.  “Sarah.”

The powers that be immediately pressed Tommy into service helping to control the crowds and guard supplies, leaving you and Joel to get settled into one of the canvas tents on site.  It wasn’t much, but you had a cot, a toothbrush, and a bar of soap, which was quite a bit more than you had arrived with.

“Why’d you tell them I was your daughter?” you asked.   

“Because I’m pretty sure it’s still frowned upon for grown men to be traveling with a random teenage girl,” Joel replied gruffly.  “It’s just temporary.”

But after four years this temporary stopover looked more and more like home and you felt more like a mother than daughter: washing, mending, cooking when there was food which there usually wasn’t.  You had lost more weight than was probably safe, but you weren’t quite as rail-thin and sallow as most of the other evacuees haunting the camp.  

Still, you regretted all the time you had spent starving yourself when there was plenty of food around, desperate to shrink down to nothing.  Your body had kept you alive in impossible circumstances and you had promised yourself you would do what you had to to take care of it. 

With Joel, it was a different story.  About a month into your stay at the camp, a man whistled at you in the breadline for weekly rations of beans and government cheese.  It was so strange and unexpected that you didn’t even realize it had happened until Joel had jumped the guy.

“Stop it!”” you screamed, helping two other guys pull him off.  “You’ll kill him!  Daddy!”

Even after one of the guards slammed his rifle into the back of Joel’s neck, he still wasn’t satisfied.

“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!  She’s mine!  I’ll fucking kill you!”    

The guards probably would have hanged them both if not for Tommy running interference, but that didn’t keep Joel from picking fights wherever he could.  He had a death wish and that made him dangerous. 

Losing Sarah had broken something inside of him, how could it not.  Keeping you and Tommy safe had kept him grounded for a while, but now that things were (relatively) stable, he had no reason to keep going.  You sympathized, of course, with the unfathomable grief of losing a child.  That didn’t mean you were content to stand by while he self-destructed.  

It was past noon and Joel was asleep, passed out, you realized as your toe connected with the bottle that had rolled under his cot.  

“Get up,” you said, pushing on his back.  “Laundry day.  Get up.”

Joel grunted, balling up under the blanket.

“Well that’s just great,” you said.  “You want to drink a week’s worth of rations in one afternoon, fine.  But if you think I’m gonna let you get a staph infection from sleeping in the same filthy clothes for weeks, you’ve got another thing coming.”

You grabbed the corner of the blanket and pulled with all your might.  Joel fought you, growling and thrashing, but ultimately you managed to wrestle it away.  Joel harumphed and turned over in bed.  You threw the blanket into the laundry basket and stormed out of the tent.

Tommy was on rounds and you passed him on your way to the little stream that ran through the east side of camp.

“You need to talk to him,” you said.  “Cause I am at the end of my rope.”  

Joel had been shutting down for weeks and things seemed to be getting worse and worse.  You knew he wished you had died instead of Sarah.  As if it wasn’t bad enough that you'd always be left to wonder if you hadn’t turned around when you did, would that bullet have passed through Sarah and killed you.  You would have taken her place if you could.  This wasn’t the life any of you would have wished for, but this was the life you had.

“Cut him some slack,” Tommy said.  “Birthdays and anniversaries are always rough.”  

“I’m sorry,” you said, as Tommy walked with you toward the edge of camp.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you–I know how much you loved Sarah and we can’t even talk about her.”

Tommy shrugged.  “You compartmentalize.  Deal with it when it’s safe.”

“So never?” 

“That’s the job,” Tommy said.  

You shook your head.  “The job sucks.  And we still need to figure out what we’re going to eat this week.  I already traded my last tampon for the month.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Tommy chuckled.  “I don’t need to know that.”

“Yeah, well, I figured your back was getting tired from carrying us,” you teased.

Tommy waved you off, jogging back to his post before his C.O. noticed he was gone.  

You sat down by the river, sprinkling your weekly allotment of laundry powder onto the stones.  Having to do all the scrubbing manually certainly gave you time to think.  When weekly assignments came around, you usually asked to be on the cleaning crew–it wasn’t a desirable chore, but you liked knowing that the communal showers and horrible pit latrines you had to use were as sanitary as possible.  Besides, as long as you weren’t greedy you could get away with pocketing extra hand sanitizer and disinfectant–that shit was better than gold around camp.  

But FEDRA was trying to get a factory up and running about a mile outside camp, hard work, double shifts, and shit pay.  But there were fringe benefits for those willing to take the risk.  This dude called Axel had a pot farm on the other side of the fence.  He was always looking for people dumb enough or desperate enough to move his product–they were always getting caught at the gate.        

So you wrung out and hung the laundry and marched down to the big house to sign up for the next truckload of workers leaving camp.

You worked the graveyard shift, and made it back through the gate the next afternoon with half a kilo of weed in the hidden pocket you had sewed into the lining of your jacket.  As you suspected, the guards were more interested in groping your breasts and between your legs during their pat-down.  You headed back to your tent with the most money you had ever held in your hands–before the outbreak or after.  

Your euphoria at your success was only somewhat diminished by the realization that Joel and Tommy had spent the morning tearing the camp apart looking for you.

“Where the hell have you been?” Joel said.  He looked frantic, disheveled, cold sweat, the works. 

“Working,” you said, digging the wad of ration cards out of your bra and handing it over to Tommy.  “Maybe you can find us some real food now.”

“Jesus, kid,” Tommy said, flipping through the cards.  “Where’d you get this?”

“Why? They’re good, aren’t they?”

You toed off your shoes and pulled off your sweatshirt as you came into the tent.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Joel followed after you, wiping a hand across his forehead.  “We’ve been worried sick–thinking you were dead in a ditch somewhere, or worse–and that’s all you have to say for yourself?”  

“Can we have this conversation later,” you groaned, shimmying out of your bluejeans and collapsing on your cot.  “I’m exhausted.”  

When you finally woke, Joel was sitting on the folding chair beside your cot.

“So what are you a whore now?” 

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you groaned, sitting up, pulling the thin blankets up around you.  “Does it fucking matter?”

You had considered sex work, but the truth was there wasn’t much of a market for it.  Assault was more common than toilet paper in the camp–there was hardly a woman who hadn’t been groped (or worse) or a man that hadn’t been mugged for that matter.  You figured the only reason you had been spared so far was that Tommy and Joel were so fucking scary.  

“Yeah, it fucking matters, Sweetpea,” he growled.  You had never seen him angry before, not like this.  You would have been terrified if you weren’t so goddamn tired.  

“I am responsible for you.”

“Oh, spare me the sanctimonious bullshit,” you said.  “I’m not a child.  I am grown.  I’m certainly not your daughter.”  

“You think I don’t know that!”  Joel grabbed you by the chin.  You met his gaze; for a moment, you weren’t sure if he wanted to hurt you or something else.

“Prove it,” you said, the corner of your mouth lifting into a sneer.  “I fucking dare you.”

In the space of a breath, Joel had crushed his mouth against yours.  You moaned against his lips, leaning back in bed, but Joel held the back of your neck, keeping you close.  You put your hands on his face, running your fingers into his hair.

Joel climbed on top of you in bed, the thin mattress sagging under your combined weights.  He sat up long enough to unbuckle his belt and paused.  

“Say yes,” he instructed, leaning down, planting his lips in the space where your jaw met your neck.  

You sighed, gripping his shoulder, turning your face to expose your neck to him.  

“You have to say yes.”

“Yes,” you breathed, pulling your ratty t-shirt off over your head and dropping it on the floor.  

Joel pulled down his jeans and ran his hands down your back, looping them into your panties, pulling them down.  You kicked them off to hook your ankles behind Joel’s thighs as he kissed your throat.  

He pressed into you all at once; you were so exhilarated you hardly felt anything.  Then pressure and a sharp tug behind your pelvic bone as he withdrew and pushed deeper. You gripped his arms and squeezed your knees into his sides. 

“Good?” he asked, kissing and sucking a trail down your chest, grazing the mounds of your breasts with his teeth.  

You took a few deep breaths and relaxed your face which had tightened into a grimace.  

“It’s a lot,” you said, running your hands down his back.  

“I know,” Joel breathed.  “I know, Sweetpea.  I got you.”

Joel moved one hand between your legs, to the bundle of nerves at the peak of the wishbone where your bodies met, massaging in circles with his rough fingers.  You felt something coiling inside you, hot and tight.  You arched into him.

“That’s better?”  

“Mmhm.”  You nodded, relaxing your thighs.  “That’s nice.”  

Joel moved against you, hips flicking up into the bowl of your pelvis as he massaged you.  He cupped one breast with his spare hand, pressing his mouth over the other, tongue circling the sensitive nipple. 

“That’s nice.”

He bucked into you harder; you bit your lip to stifle a cry.  You could feel the knot in your belly spreading, unfolding.  Your body stiffened and relaxed and with a low moan, Joel dropped his weight onto you, tired and spent.

You felt your heart rate slow and your breath grew deeper.  Joel rested his head on your chest and you ran your fingers through his hair.  You noticed it was damp and smelled faintly of mint.

“Did you shower?”

Joel nodded, his beard rubbing against your skin.  You smiled.

“You do listen to me.”

“Mmhm.”  You ran your hands over Joel’s shoulder girdle; felt the tight knots of muscle relax under your touch.  

Joel’s lips found the ragged scar under your collarbone where the bullet had left your body.  He kissed the scar gently, running his fingertips over it.  For an instant you felt like he was worshiping you, in awe of you.  And you marveled at your own sweet self for being able to give such pleasure.  

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Joel said.  You pressed your eyes closed.

“I may not have a choice,” you sighed.  “Axel wants me to do another run at the end of the week–I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. 

After a moment, Joel rose from the bed, pulling on his pants as you pulled the blankets up over you. 

“What are you going to do?” you said.

“I said I’d take care of it,” he repeated.

“Joel,” you warned.  “You can’t narc on him…you can’t kill him.  Don’t kill him, Joel.  Please.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek.  “Eat something.  Tommy brought you peanut butter.”

You had half a mind to try and stop him from leaving, but who could resist peanut butter.

Baby's First Taglist: @stilllivindue2spite, @amethystwonders11 & @teacupcollector

[actionnerdgamerlove]

The Dragonborn's Haunting - part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

A Skyrim/CoD crossover

Ghost is Forsworn and....just takes a shine to you, the Dragonborn.

Five minutes after passing through the front gate of Markarth a woman was shivved right in front of you, in the market.

And then there was that business with Molag Bal.  The God of Schemes could keep his treasure; far as you’re concerned.  You took one look at that Altar, turned around and walked right out.  ‘Declined Wholeheartedly’ would be a good way of describing that hellscape.  You would never understand people’s fascination with exsanguination and troughs of human offal.  Some of those stains would NEVER come out.

The Ghost wasn’t kidding about not lingering.

Did everyone sleep on stone beds?  How could that possibly be comfortable?

No one smiled here.

You just wanted OUT.

But you promised Brynjolf, and you’d rather die than disappoint that man.

You ended up making your way all over the city for Brynjolf’s request, and there was nothing impressive about cold, dead stone and the sad people who lived here because they wanted to, and the sadder people who lived here because they couldn’t leave.

By the time you passed through the main gate on your way out, you’d felt the life drain out of your body slowly, like larger grains of sand through a sieve.  You made your way to a small overlook with a tree, across from the stables, out of the way of other travelers and just – sat.

“Little rabbit, why are there assassins after you?” The Ghost asked, sounding genuinely curious.  He’d come up from out of nowhere, as was his way.

“I….beg your pardon?” Looking up (up, up, up) at him made you a little dizzy, so you stared out across the horizon instead.

“Assassins.  After such a little rabbit.”

“I didn’t see any-“

“Little rabbit.  Why do you think that is?”  You think he’s smiling when he says that.

“Because you –“

“Aye.”

“But you said you weren’t going into the city,”

“Wasn’t going to.”

You just raised your eyebrows, waiting.

“Wanted to keep my eyes on things out here, just in case,” The Ghost begins, sitting down next to you.

Just in case of what?  You think.

“Then two disturbed individuals swagger through the front gate with a single minded purpose I’ve only seen once before –“ And you can FEEL The Ghost watching you as he said that, “And I gave up on keeping lookout.”

“They weren’t with me,” you say, emphatically.

“I gathered that, Little Rabbit – seeing as they were so intent on turning you into ash.”

“Who were they?”

You can almost hear The Ghost grinding his teeth.  Almost.

“Little too busy to ask for introductions, Little Rabbit.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “I….appreciate the assist.”

“You never answered my question.”

You turn to him, frustration making you bold. “I think you may have killed any way for me to know!”

“Calm down, Little Rabbit – one of them was carrying this.”

The Ghost hands you a piece of parchment, which simply states “Kill the False Dragonborn before they reach Solstheim.  Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased.”

“Who the fuck is Miraak, Little Rabbit?”

How would you know? “That sounds a little Dragon Priest-y, to me,” you say, and you can feel the weight of The Ghost’s glare upon you.

“A little Dragon Priest-y?”

“Look, it’s not like I’m an expert, alright?”

“You’re the FUCKING DRAGONBORN.” The Ghost hissed at you.

“The position didn’t come with written instructions, Ghost!”

“You’ve been to High Hrothgar!”

You turn to glare at him, lips pursed. “I don’t know if you know this, but 99% of the Greybeards aren’t especially chatty.”

You hear Ghost growl, but you don’t think he’s growling at you. “All Dragonborn experience is anecdotal, and right now we’re working with MY anecdotes.”

He harumphed. “You going to investigate?”

“Be a pretty shitty Dragonborn if I didn’t,” you say, making a sour face.

“I’m not coming with you.” He sounds….like he’s pouting.

“Ok…?  I didn’t ask you to.”

You didn’t ask for any of this, whatsoever, but that’s not the first time you’ve had that particular thought.

“FINE.” The Ghost practically spat at you as he stood up.

The fuck was that about?  You think to yourself, for approximately the 1,000th time.

[deliwrites]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖? // Dream

// DATE // 24th of October 2022 // PAIRING // Dreamwastaken x Non-American!Reader (Though you could still read it as an American some things just won't make sense) // WARNING // Angsty(not really I don't think? mostly just indifferent behavior I guess) // WORDS // 3,6k // SUMMARY // Dream ghosted you after the facetime situation. You finally move to Florida to move in with your friends and suddenly he's interested in you again. (It was going to be a part with smut, but I have decided to divide this one. (So be on the lookout for a part 3 that holds more smut) and yes I did go out of my way to pick out furniture, sorry not sorry xD) // SERIES // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 //

// MASTERLIST // ANONLIST //

It had been a few weeks since my endeavour with Dream. I was expecting more contact with him from that moment. Sadly, that wasn't the case. Instead, I was being ghosted by him.

I tried to not let it bother me, but it really did. 'God, why did I have to be such a slut,' I thought to myself. Insulting myself for making such a stupid decision. 'Of course, this is how it would end.'

"Y/n! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!" arms were thrown around me the moment I stepped into the arrivals area. The two of us almost falling over from the force as what breaks me out of my train of thought. "Juny!" giggling I drop my suitcases. Wrapping my arms tightly around the taller girl. Her black hair up in a messy bun. I could tell she hadn't slept all night. "I'm so happy to be here! Oh!" when she finally let go of me, she giggled giddily.

"Okay, let's go! Charlee and Emmy are already waiting at home. I hope you're hungry. They're going to make you dinner," Juny took one of my bigger suitcases. Leaving me with a big and small suitcase. Did I have a lot of stuff? Yes. Was I ashamed? No. I am quick to follow her as she leads the way.

I had never been to America, so walking around the Orlando airport was a whole new experience. Which also meant I had not fucking idea where to go. Having Juny as my guide was very helpful.

Once in the car I decided to start streaming. I hadn't told anyone yet that I moved. The only info I shared was that I wouldn't be streaming or uploading videos for a bit, which was a week ago. Right after I made that announcement is when my pc and entire setup was being safely shipped to the US.

When I say I hadn't told anyone, I meant anyone. The only people who knew were the girls and my family. And with Dream ghosting me, I was definetly not telling him.

"Hello, hello, Streamies!" I called out at my phone the moment I saw viewers come in and start talking in the chat. "How are you all? I missed you guys so much!" I pause to read the chat a little bit. Messages skimming by. "Yes I am in a car," I giggle at the comment. "No, I'm not driving, I promise, I wouldn't stream and drive. Anyways, I am so glad most of you guys are doing okay," I smile brightly at the screen. "Juny, would you like to tell the very curious viewers where we are?" I ask her, moving my phone so the both of us are in view. I watch the chat as people are already guessing I'm in the US.

"Y/n, finally moved to US! The girl squad is finally complete!" Juny cheers. We both scream in excitement.

"Yes, I did! I am so excited! I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys," I sent them an apologetic pout. "But, now that I'm here. There are so many more things we can do! If you guys are up for it, I could bring you guys with me to go furniture shopping!" I turn to Juny when a question pops in my head. "Does Orlando have an ikea?"

"It does, you wanna do an ikea video?" she asks. While she answers a ping is heard from my phone. A message popping up.

Dream 💔 You're in Florida?

'Oh, so now he messages. Right,' rolling my eyes I ignore the message. 'Guess who's getting ghosted now.'

The rest of the drive I keep talking to chat, having song breaks with Juny. We were smart enough to get a nice playlist that is copyright free and put that on.

"Thank you guys so much for joining me today! We are almost home," I let out a content sigh. "God, I love saying that. But! I will see you guys soon! Enjoy your day, evening, afternoon! Bye bye!" I end the stream just as we enter our neighbourhood.

Before we even reach the house I can see Charlee and Emmy outside. They jump with excitement when they see the car driving up. Juny parks the car swiftly in the drive way. I jump out of the car, squealing as I run up to my favourite girls. They meet me halfway. Both squealing just as much.

"Oh, my god, I can't believe you're finally here!" Charlee squeezes me tightly in her hold. She might be smoll, but she is strong as hell.

"Same! It's gonna be some getting used to, but I'm so happy!"

"Let's go inside, the food is gonna get cold if we wait any longer," Emmy chuckles.

"I told you guys about what happened with Dream, right?" I started an unexpected conversation. I had been trying to forget about it all. But the sudden message from him wouldn't leave my mind. The four of us were in the living room. Not really up to doing anything big today. So we just put on some background music. All of us doing our own thing. Charlee was reading, Emmy was doing a small bit of editing on her MacBook and Juny was scrolling through TikTok. The sounds of the clips being soft enough to not bother anyone.

"Yeah," Charlee is the one that answers.

"I didn't tell you all," I sigh, putting aside my notebook where I had been writing video ideas. "After the faceTime situation, he uhm," I sigh. "He ghosted me."

"Excuse me?" Juny's voice filled with disgust. "No, did he actually?"

"Yeah, I messaged him a few times but he never replied," I told them. "He left me on read every time. I feel so stupid."

"No, don't say that!" Emmy scoots over to me. Pulling me in for a hug.

“The thing is. I streamed in the car ride here, right?” The three nod. “He messaged me during it. Asking if I was in Florida.”

“So he decides to completely ignore you for weeks and then message you when he finds out you’re here?” Charlee questions. A look of pure confusion on her face.

“Yeah, like I don’t understand him,” I admit. “I genuinely thought we might be going somewhere relationship-wise. And then he pulls this shit.”

“In my opinion, you should ignore him. Just like he did you,” Juny says. She would always watch my back. Right now I knew she didn’t want me to get hurt - more - by this guy. For now, I decided to listen to Juny.

The next day the squad went to IKEA. I was surprised I wasn't that jetlagged. Maybe it was the fact that I went to bed at a normal time here. I had been awake for 22 hours straight. Sure, I've done worse. But I needed to change my sleeping schedule and fast. I didn't want to be jetlagged forever.

"Should I stream or make a video out of it?" I asked once were all parked in the parking garage. We had gone in three cars. I know it sounds like a bit much, be we didn't have big cars. And seeing as I need an entire bed and closet, it seemed like the best option. We probably would have gone with four but I don't have a car here yet.

"I think you should make it a video," Emmy answers. "Just in case, and you can do little polls on Twitter. Like 'Which bed do I pick, left or right?' and add pictures of the beds you like."

"Oh, that is such a good, idea! Yes, let's do that," I cling to her as the four of us enter the surprisingly quiet IKEA. I sent out a tweet as a warning.

I'm in the IKEA right now. I want your guy's help picking out furniture. So, be on the lookout for polls!

"Do we want to get some lunch first, or after?" Juny asks when we get inside.

"I think in between," Charlee suggests. "We first go into the showrooms to pick out furniture that we need to write down. Then eat lunch before we head downstairs for any other kind of decoration and pick up what we have picked out," we all agree with that and head into the showrooms.

"Come here, guys!" Charlee calls out to us from one of the showrooms. Coming over I find her in a little hallway in front of a mirror. "Group pic?" she asks when all of us are there.

Taking the picture I put it on my private Snapchat story. Of course, Dream is quick to send me a message on there now.

"Are you serious," I mumble.

"What?" Emmy asks, being the only one that heard me. Charlee and Juny currently looking at living room inspiration. Not that we needed anything new for the living room, but it's always nice to look.

"Dream, messaged me," I tell her.

DREAM 💔 That's crazy! George, Sapnap and I are here too!

"Okay, quick question. I know you're ignoring him like he ignored you. But what if you heard him out. Maybe he has a good reason. He's here, so, would you want that?" Emmy is careful with her words. Trying to see how I stood in the situation.

"I guess I would like to know why," I admit quietly. "But who says he's not just going to ignore me again?"

"You'll never know the answer for sure, but do you think it's worth a shot?" I think about it for a moment before turning my eyes back to my phone. Emmy reads over my shoulder as I type.

ME Really? Where are you guys now? DREAM 💔 We are at the end of Work space ME Oh, we are just about to enter the living room storage area DREAM 💔 We can wait for you guys if you would like? We can continue together. ME I'll have to ask the girls, we do plan on having lunch once we are done with this floor. DREAM 💔 That's fine, go ask them. We'll wait for now.

"Guys! We're meeting up with the Dream team!" I announce to the other two girls.

"What!" Juny sounds disappointed. "I thought we were ignoring him1"

"I know, but I want answers," I grab her hands, looking into her eyes. I give her a pout.

"Okay, fine," she mock rolls her eyes, making me giggle. We finish looking around, after waiting on a pol answer. I posted a poll asking if I should buy a cup or not. I really loved the STRIMMIG mug, so why not ask the fans if I should get it. The answer was a fat yes, with 92% win.

When we walk into the workspace section, I already notice the dream team in the corner of my eye. They were talking together, sitting at a displayed desk.

"I'm gonna do another poll," I say out loud to no one in particular. Taking out my phone, I continue walking down the path. Putting in another pol. "None of these desks seem big enough, should I go for a dining table desk instead," I mumble along as I type it out.

"Not big enough?" I recognize the voice immediately. A little startled, I jump. Looking up I catch Dreams grin. He, along with Sapnap and George chuckle at my reaction.

"God, you startled me," I chuckle awkwardly.

"Sorry, how are you?" Dream asks. I couldn't help it but really bothered me that he acted like nothing was wrong.

"I'm good, what about you?" I ask, stepping closer, I offer a hug as a greeting. He accepts, wrapping his arms around my shoulders as I hug his middle. He really is tall. I hate that it has an affect on me.

"I'm great, George just needs a few things for his room," he answers when we pull away. I decide to greet Sapnap and George the same way, giving them a hug as well. Then the girls walk up, greeting the three guys as well. Hugs are exchanged. Juny pulls me to her, almost like she's keeping me away from Dream.

"But does that mean, we're continuing together?" Sapnap asks.

"Yeah," the four of us answer in sync.

We continue down the showrooms, taking notice of a lot of things. Writing them down on the paper with of course the tiny IKEA pencil. Juny stays with me the entire time, arms hooked together. I appreciated it, but I also wanted to talk to Dream. I noticed him wanting to talk to me as well but we didn't get the time.

Even when we were having lunch we couldn't talk. Whenever we would try friends of either person pulled us into a different conversation. What that did do tho, was give me hope. He wanted to talk to me. That must mean something right?

Gathering all the stuff was chaos. We were running around the storage area. Everyone was laughing, camera's out for footage. At one point I was standing on one of the carts. Dream pushing me forwards and fast. He ran into a random aisle. One we didn't need to be in. And we were able to hide from the others for just a minute.

"Hi," I whisper. We sat under the shelves in an empty spot.

"Hey," he whispers back with a grin. I wasn't really sure what to say. I ended up just staring at him for a while. He was still as beautiful as I thought he was when I first saw him on FaceTime. Even more so if I was honest. It was so strange to me to see him in real life. Maybe one day I would have gotten the opportunity to meet him, but I wasn't expecting it to be today.

"Is it just me, or is it weird to see you in real life?" I end up mumbling, full of uncertainty. I wasn't sure if admitting that was a good idea. To my surprise, he chuckles, nodding his head.

"It is, but I'm glad I'm able to meet you," I'm about to make a comment when Emmy runs up our aisle.

"There you two are! We've got everything. Ready to go?" she asks quickly, a little awkward look on her face. She didn't realize the two of us were together until she reached us.

"Yeah, let's go," for now I guess we would have to leave our conversation at that. Maybe having a talk about it here wouldn't be a good plan anyway.

After paying we gathered our cars. I stayed with the multiple carts along with George, he only had to buy a desk and a few accessories. I ended up with a IDANÄS bed, two VITTSJÖ tables for at my bedside, a LINDBYN as a mirror by a small VITTSJÖ laptop table and a CHILISTRÅN cause I want me some cute plants, along with a few more plant pots, including plants. Seeing as I do have clothes, I also got a PAX / FARDAL with more than enough room for everything I own and new things to add. I got a BRUNSTA for the main light, seeing that I am a hoe for music, I got a black SYMFONISK speaker lamp which made me very poor. But Dream gifted me the duvet, along with pillows and a cute set of covers.

"How has your time in America been?" I ask George. He had been a while longer than I had. So obviously I was curious.

"Quite good actually. It's a big change, but so worth it," his answer made me smile. The look in his eyes really showed that he loved being able to live with his friends. "This is your second day right?" I nod. "Let the girls take you to all of the junk food restaurants. They are so different, but I promise they are good," I chuckle at the orgasm-like face he pulls at just the thought of food.

"Alright, I will," just then 5 cars pull up. We take up almost the entire space for loading in. We helped each other place everything in the cars but there was a problem. With all the stuff that I had, my seat in the car was taken.

"What do we do? We don't have space for another person besides the driver," Charlee voiced the obvious.

"Look, I don't mind waiting," we had the conversation while the guys were packing the desk into Dreams car. The desk being too big for Sapnaps car.

"We can't just leave you here!" Juny spoke loudly, catching the attention of the guys.

"What's wrong?" Sapnap asks.

"I can't go with them, the cars are too full," I tell them. "I'm willing to stay and wait for one of them to return-"

"But we are not going to do that," Charlee said sternly.

"My car has space, I can bring you home," Dream immediately offers.

"No, we'll figure something out," Judy says, pulling me closer to her.

"Look, I know what you're trying to do," I whisper to her. "But this is our only option right now," her face scrunches up in frustration.

"Fine."

"Are you sure it's okay?" I ask Dream.

"Of course!" He replies immediately. "We can't just leave you here stranded."

"Alright, then let's go," I am quick to say. Not wanting anyone to change their mind. "Message me the address, 'cause I don't know it from the top of my head yet," I tell Emmy who nods. Everyone gets into their cars. Dream surprisingly opens the door for me and lets me step inside. "Thank you," thanking him with a bright smile. He smiles back before going to the driver's side.

"Are you okay with us first bringing the desk to my place?" He asks once he's settled in.

"Oh, sure, that's fine by me," I tell him as I watch the others drive off. He puts on some music and starts driving. We were the last to leave, I couldn't see any of my friends' cars anymore.

I didn't realize my leg was bouncing until we reached the highway. I only realized when Dream's hand landed on my thigh. The bouncing almost immediately stopped. I didn't necessarily mind the hand, in fact, it was bringing me comfort - somehow.

His voice breaks my trance though I don't catch what he said. I look at him, releasing a 'huh?'. A smile grows on his lips as he repeats his question.

"How was your flight?"

"Oh, right, uhm. Uneventful really," I tell him honestly. "It was a long flight, didn't have money for first class. So I was stuffed with other people. I don't really mind. I did have the window seat, but having to get up to pee was the worst. Especially when the guys next to me were asleep. But I managed," Dream didn't seem to mind my rambling, but when I mentioned that I was sat next to guys. His grip on my thigh seemed to tighten just a little. Just enough for me to notice. "Other than that, they were really nice to me. They even helped me put my small suitcase in the top compartment and back out," I tested my thoughts and again his grip tightened. This time he also seemed to grit his teeth. I slide my hand over to his. Placing my hand on his, my thumb stroking gently on the back of his hand. The grip on my thigh relaxed a little bit at the touch.

"I'm glad you arrived safe and well," he says. "I am kinda hurt you didn't tell me you were moving to Florida," at this, I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"And, I'm hurt you ghosted me after what happened," my voice is monotone. Shaking my leg to remove his hand. I fully turn away from him. Staring out the window, legs closed, leaning against the door. I sigh comes from him. I can't tell if it's a sigh of annoyance or something else. Not that I care at the moment.

"I'm sorry," he says, but I ignore him. Opening the window, I let the wind blow in. The weather was nice and warm today. I prove my ignorance more by deciding to put the volume higher. Singing along loudly with the songs to pass the time.

He decides to stay quiet for the rest of the ride. Probably realises he deserves the treatment I'm giving him. Finally, we reach the Dream Team house. One I recognize from George's video. There we find Sapnap and George waiting in the driveway. They probably arrived just a few minutes ago. My plan was to stay in the car, but Sapnap opens the door on my side. Dream and George carrying in the desk.

"Come on, let's give you a tour!" His excitement has me complying. I get out of the car, following him into the house. I had to admit that the house was gorgeous. I recognized Dreams studio from the time we had that FaceTime call. At last, he showed me Dreams bedroom. "And last but not least, Dream's bedroom," he opened the door, allowing me to walk inside first. His room was surprisingly normal. Plain black hardwood bed. Covered in sacramento-coloured sheets. Black hardwood nightstands on either side. Simple matching lamps on each.

Before I could admire the room any further, the door slammed shut behind me. Startled I turn around.

"Sapnap! What-"

"You and Dream, have to talk," is all he says through the door.

Now what.

// MASTERLIST // ANONLIST //

// SERIES // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 //

[n0v4t33z]

The Syndicate - Chapter 6 : Un-Killable

Pairings: Choi San X Female Reader, Park Seonghwa X Female Reader, Ateez X Female Reader

Genre: Lots of angst, Romance, Crime Fiction, Psychological Drama

Word Count: 5.8k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Language, Graphic Violence, Mentions of Illegal activities (i.e Kidnapping, extortion, assassination etc.), y/n gets roughed up by Wooyoung like twice , Slow Burn, Fluff sometimes, Work In Progress, Non-Idol AU, Mafia AU, Very suggestive at times, y/n cries alot, y/n having inner turmoil, Ateez being bad boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang are a little mean in this story tbh, Guns, Gunshot wounds, Assassination attempt(s), mentions death and acts of violence

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Spotify Playlist🎵 | Series Masterlist📝

Author's Note 💌: Hi, It's been about two weeks since I posted the last chapter so I'm here to keep my promise about posting at least twice every month! Unfortunately I didn't realize how short this chapter actually is. Either way it's a good one though, there are also some parts I may fix and add onto later since I'm posting this close to 2 am and I'm exhausted so I hope you guys still enjoy it either way! ^^

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

A whole 2 months passes by and I notice San has become somewhat distant and has been spending most of the time either in his office by himself or in the conference room with the rest of the guys. Although Seonghwa, Jongho, Yunho and Mingi still interact with me they become very vague anytime I ask them about San. There were a few occasions where I wanted to try and see what exactly they were talking about but because there's always a goon outside the door now keeping a lookout so I could never get close enough to hear. One day I asked Seonghwa why they spent so much time in the conference room and the only thing he told me is "We're sorting things out." As for me, this whole time after I ran the 3 people’s names in the police database and nothing came up I realized these people are basically ghosts with no paper trails on the database meaning I’ve been having to investigate on foot and tailing them. The only thing San left for me as a place of reference and a place to start was a club on the east side of the city which actually turned out to be a club named "Enigma" that they own under a fake identity but another thing San left on the note is that these 3 people are brothers who run an underground black market out of it. So far everything is fine with them, no meetings with any other rival groups. If anything, these brothers definitely know how to treat their allies by providing them with weapons and other resources that are otherwise considered inaccessible to which I'm assuming this is the reason San wants to work with them. Which leads me to where I am right now, heading home after a long couple of days of consecutively tailing and observing these people. What's been really weird is that San called me at least once everyday to check in on me in the beginning but it's been 2 weeks and nothing. I sigh while I look at the dark road ahead of me, taking in the scene of complete emptiness with a beautifully glittery night sky which left me feeling a bit emotional. I slowly begin to tighten my grip on the steering wheel. I’ve had so many chances to leave but why aren’t I taking them? Have I seriously grown attached?

I reach for my phone and very anxiously I glance at the screen while I keep my eyes on the road and look at my recent calls, the last time I called San was two days ago. I stare at his name on my screen for a few seconds and decide to just hit the call button. The ringing starts and by the 4th ring I'm sent to voicemail immediately making my heart sink. He didn't answer, again. My vision begins to blur the bright headlights and the road ahead of me slightly begins to distort until warm tears stream down my cheeks then I let out a small sigh “Why? What did you do to me?” Why do I have to make things more difficult for myself? The original plan was to have San trust me enough to let me leave his headquarters, but now that he's given me that permission I can't seem to leave. Why?

I try to compose myself and wipe my tears away with one hand while I keep my other hand on the steering wheel. In the distance I see the headquarters, and realize that most of the drive home I spent it worrying about him and questioning myself. When I arrive I walk inside headquarters I notice it seems empty, and by empty I mean too quiet. There's almost always someone in the building, whether it's Seonghwa drinking his tea in the lounge, Hongjoong on his computer in the server room, Wooyoung playing cards with Mingi, Yeosang and Yunho in the living room, even Jongho's occasional little breaks after he's been working all afternoon. So when I walk over to the lounge and notice it's completely empty my stomach feels like it flipped upside down. Where is everyone? I walk around the building and no one was there except of course the goons who keep watch on the building 24/7 now so I decide I'm going to just ask one of them as to why it's so empty because this is weird.

There’s a very tall and heavy build goon outside of San's office, he was so scary looking. Although his suit made him look a little less scary. "Um excuse me but where is everyone? Why is it so empty here?" Without flinching the man simply responds with "They're sorting out a few things they'll be back soon Miss y/n." I exhale then I run my fingers through my loosely curled hair "Okay yes, but where are they? What are they doing?" Keeping a straight face without even looking at me he responds "I'm sorry Miss y/n but that's all I know." I narrow my eyes in disbelief. Does he really think I’m that stupid? "That can't be, you have to know where they are. You were given orders by San not to tell me anything weren't you?" The man stands there looking straight ahead pretending he didn't hear me. I look at him for a few seconds more waiting if he'll say anything but he never does then I clench my jaw and say through my teeth "Fine, I'll take that as a yes." I scoff and walk away to my room, when I get there I throw myself onto my bed. I lay there in bed for a few minutes until I fall asleep.

A few hours later I hear commotion downstairs, it was San and the guys. ”I’m exhausted. Now all we need is to kill that old bastard.” Wooyoung comments. ”Well at least we’re done now, I thought it was going to take a lot longer to pull this off.” Hongjoong responds. I look over at the clock and it was around 4 am then I get up and hurriedly head downstairs and notice they’re all dressed in black like they were in a robbery of some sort. All the talking stops and becomes dead silent when everyone notices I’m in the room then Seonghwa walks towards me and nervously smiles “Hey, what are you doing here? Weren’t you on an errand?” I shrug with a straight face “I just got back a few hours ago, what about you guys? Why’s everyone dressed like this? Did I miss something?” San walks up to me and pats my back and smiles “Nothing, we just went to go handle something don’t worry about it.” I furrow my brows and look directly into San’s eyes “Let me guess you still went even after I told you not to…” San shakes his head and reassuringly pats my head “Didn’t we agree to forget about this? I said I wasn’t going to..” Seonghwa, MIngi, and Yunho look over at San with a very odd facial expression then Wooyoung says “You have your jobs and we have ours. San’s allowed to do what he wants it’s not like you’re his girlfriend.” I slowly nod and give Wooyoung and San a fake smile “Of course, you’re right. I was just wondering considering I've barely seen any of you at all I was just a bit worried.” Yeosang stares right at me with a deadpan face “Why do you even care? It’s not like we’re your friends.” Gosh, I know he’s right but wow that hurt. San's expression grows dark and Seonghwa puts his hand on Yeosang’s shoulder causing him to ease up a bit then I let out a frustrated sigh. Here we go again. “Well, maybe you might not be my friend but if you haven’t noticed there are other people I am friends with.” Wooyoung lets out a mocking laugh “Oh really? They’re your friends? If they were your friends they would have told you what was going on but clearly no one trusts you. You’ve only been here like what? 3 or 4 months and you already want to be let in on everything we do? Sounds just about right for an entitled cop.” San pushes Wooyoung and angrily says “Can you ever shut up?!” Yunho and Jongho rush over to separate them, Yunho holding San and Jongho holds Wooyoung respectively. As much as I’d love to be petty with Wooyoung and drop the bomb on San that his best friend thought it was a great idea to nearly kill me, I’ll keep that to myself. All in due time I guess. I don’t want to create anymore issues for these people. I bite the inside of my cheek trying to recover from that verbal jab. This is embarrassing, maybe Wooyoung is right they do have a right for not trusting me. Just because I gave them access to all these things doesn’t mean anything, for all they know I could be leading them to a trap so I don’t blame them for not trusting me. San angrily stares at Wooyoung "Oh come on San, calm down. I was just expressing everything in everyone's mind." Wooyoung fights back a smirk and San tries to reach over to him causing Yunho to tighten his grip on him.

"You don't speak for everyone here." Seonghwa speaks up looking directly at me reassuringly. Jongho speaks from behind Wooyoung "I agree with San and Seonghwa. You really don't speak for everyone here." Hongjoong sighs and nods "She's not so bad Wooyoung. You know this. You're just being hard headed and paranoid over this situation not to mention overtly territorial over San." Wooyoung lets out a laugh "Me paranoid?! Territorrial?! I know what these cops are capable of doing?! Did you guys forget what happened to San's father?! They easily get into your head and mess with it, they're master manipulators just like Lee. She's just like him and I'm only trying to protect him from things repeating themselves." There's a long silence, evreyone awkwardly looking at eachother. That's when I step in between San and Wooyoung causing evreyone's gaze to shift over to me. I slightly part my lips to speak but then a knot grows in my throat and press them shut. Maybe it's a good idea not to say anything right now and keep the peace. All this fighting isn't going to be worth it in the end. I can't change someone's mind whose already been made. Wooyoung can think anything he wants, I just don't want to hear it anymore. I turn my back to them and walk in the direction of my room.

In the distance I hear Yunho say “Come back just give her some time alone.” followed by fast paced footsteps until a few moments later I feel someone grab my wrist then I look back and it was San. He gently tugs my arm closer to him and I look down still slightly embarrassed for running off in a cowardly way. “y/n, wait… I’m sorry some of them haven’t warmed up to you but I promise it’s not your fault. I know you were just worried.” Beginning to feel drained I shake my head “I’m exhausted, we can talk tomorrow. Right now I just want to be alone.” San gently pushes back a few strands of hair “I understand, but please pay no attention to them especially Wooyoung. Nothing he says has an ounce of truth. I need you here with me, remember that.” I let go of San’s hand and walk towards my room leaving him behind me. When I walk into my room I lay there silently for a few moments until warm tears begin to sting my eyes. Once I get rid of Captain Lee I’m going to leave this place despite how deeply in love I am, or at least try to. I can’t keep putting myself through this.

The next morning while laying in bed I hear Wooyoung shouting in a panicked voice from outside in the hallway “San, they took down all security!” I sit up and quickly change clothes while listening closely to the commotion in the hallways, from what it sounds like someone took down the people guarding the HQ gates which is still kind of far considering we’re in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly San barges into my room with a slightly worried expression and says “y/n, the cops are on their way as we speak. Burn everything you can, everything on your computer wipe it and burn it too.” He hands me a gasoline can and some matches and pats my head “Everything will be okay I promise.” He smiles nervously and before he can walk away I pull on the sleeve of his rolled up dress shirt “Why are the cops coming? Is it because of what you guys were doing earlier today?” San’s smile disappears into a straight line and a serious expression then he runs his fingers through his hair “Please don’t get mad, I know you said you didn’t want me to follow through with breaking into the evidence room but I went ahead and did it anyway. I’m sorry. I genuinely thought everything went well I swear I made sure no one followed us but I guess I was wrong.”

I clench my free hand to the point my knuckles turn white. The silence between us lasted as a long instant, and while the anger welled up in my chest. He was looking at me with his gaze of expectation for me to simply forgive him and move on but as of right now I can’t. I won't. Instead it pisses me off because it seems like everything I tell him Is being ignored. Everything that’s happening right now was because of him but what do I expect from a criminal anyway? If anything I shouldn’t even be surprised, I should have known he was going to pull something like this. I raise my hand back and throw my hand forward as hard as I can, whipping it across his face. The crack of skin contacting skin echoed off the metal walls of my room. His face then turns back to me while he slowly runs his hand along his cheek and without another word I walk away. Part of me knows and is well aware I’m running away from my problems but at the moment I was more focused on escaping the police and wiping the computer of any evidence, I can’t get caught now. Nobody can find out I was kept alive.

I run into my work room and over to the computer and begin trying to reimage it to delete all the data on the hard drive then the screen shows a percentage bar and on the bottom of it read “Time Remaining: 35 minutes” I rub my forehead in frustration and grab the tower of the computer, toss it across the room a few times until it eventually splits open then I grab the can of gasoline and pour most of it on the motherboard and the hard drive. I pull out a match from the match box in my pocket and light it then flick it directly inside the computer case immediately igniting a huge fire. After burning a few papers and files I head down the hallway and I notice Yeosang looking out the window and calmly loading his gun while gazing into the distance then I realize he was looking at the various police cars, a helicopter and a few SWAT vehicles getting in position. Someone taps my shoulder and when I turn it was Mingi, he hands me a gun and says “Good luck” I nod taking the gun making sure there was ammo “Same to you.” Out of seemingly nowhere Yeosang begins to shoot causing me to slightly jump. San immediately runs out of his office with a gun in hand then he grabs my hand and leads me downstairs towards the back exit. “We’re going to head outside, there’s a secret escape route I built in the forest so I hope you have your walking shoes on because it’s going to be a long walk.” While he opens the door I say “Where’s everyone else?” He peaks outside and says “Mingi and Yeosang are going to buy us time. Everyone else is already in the forest.” Suddenly Wooyoung runs up behind us and pats San’s shoulder. “Everything is clear, lower associates were sent to distract the feds.” San nods and says “Did you turn on the self destruct device in the server room?” Wooyoung nods and smirks “Yep, everything is in order.” He steps outside in front of San and hides behind a car outside then motions us to follow behind him and just a few seconds after giving us the signal he motions us to stop and stay low. Then I hear a familiar voice.

“Let the girl go Choi San…” My stomach drops and I look up and see that In the helicopter was my partner Detective Chris and Captain Lee looking over his shoulder and right next to them was a sniper. I tightly squeeze his hand and San turns and looks at me “You’ll be okay, worst case is they’ll shoot me and not you.” Captain Lee speaks into the mega phone and says “Give it up son, you lost and it was all because you’re so reckless. You got so sloppy but don’t worry though I’ll clean the mess you left and I’ll start by shooting your little friend over here.” The red laser from the sniper’s gun points right at Wooyoung’s head “And then you.” Wooyoung looks at San and slightly nods and begins to run towards the forest. Almost instantly he gets shot in the chest instead from the sudden movement. His body falls limply on his side while he clutches onto his chest and struggles to breathe. My stomach drops and San lets out a scream calling out Wooyoung’s name with tears welling up in his eyes in anger “I’m going to kill you bastard!!” I clutch onto San's arm holding the gun in my other hand tightly with my eyes blurring with tears. Captain Lee smirks “You know what, I take it back. I won’t shoot you that’s letting you off easy...I want you to suffer by watching all your little mobster trash die.”

Seeing Wooyoung on the ground didn’t bring me satisfaction, instead I begin to cry at the sight of his breathing slowing down. Despite everything he’s done to me I couldn’t let San suffer again, as angry and pissed off as I am with him right now for putting us in this situation he doesn’t deserve to lose his bestfriend. Wooyoung needed help and fast but the only way to get him that help is if I turn myself in and somehow convince them to step back. I hate the idea that I won't have that anonymity anymore but this is a matter of life or death. If I can prevent someone from dying then I'm sure it'll be worth it no matter how painful it is. Suddenly, an idea pops up in my head, it was one I really didn't want to do but my only hope is that it all goes smoothly. I step in front of San with my back facing the helicopter which causes San to pull me closer to him into a hug. i gently press the barrel of the gun I have onto his stomach and he leans in close to my ear and whispers “What are you doing angel eyes? Whatever is going on in that little head of yours just stop, I don’t want you to get hurt. Please.” He sniffles burying his face in my hair trying to hide the fact that he was slightly teary eyed “Sannie, do you trust me?” He talks into my neck “Yes of course I trust you.” Staying still and keeping my voice calm I say “Keep your head down and shoot the sniper.” His voice goes an octave higher while keeping his head down buried into my neck and says “What?! Why?!” Keeping my calm I press the gun a little more onto his stomach “Do it. Shoot the sniper, trust me.” From the corner of my eye I see San’s arm go up and shoot in the sniper’s direction and as soon as he shoots I move just a bit to where the sniper’s bullet hits my right shoulder. I let out a scream in agonizing pain from the impact of the hot metal burning deep in my shoulder causes me to slightly jerk forward and drop the gun in my hand. I push San with the strength from the adrenaline coursing through my veins back into the building and I run towards the helicopter while I clutch onto my shoulder with tears in my eyes. This was all for nothing, so much for getting rid of this man from the shadows.

“There’s a bomb in there! Please Captain Lee, Chris we have to get out of here and remove everyone from the perimeter!” I look back and see San was no longer in the doorway, both Chris and Captain Lee look at me in awe then look at each other a few seconds. Eventually Chris lets down a ladder, helps me climb up and sit down. He sits next to me and looks over at Captain Lee “Captain, we have to take her to the hospital now!” I lay there growing more exhausted by the second due to blood loss until I manage to mutter “Captain, remove everyone from this perimeter now or we’re all going to die.” Chris looks at me and shakes his head while he keeps pressure on my wound “No, we can’t. We have a warrant for San’s arrest we can’t just let him escape” I grab Chris’s forearm and squeeze it from the pain and slight impatience “Trust me, I know he’s going to fuck up again this won’t be the last time. The bomb, please. We have to get out of here we don’t have much time left..” Chris turns to Captain Lee giving him a worried look then Captain Lee looks down at the building for a few moments that felt like an eternity and eventually looks over at me and Chris “Alright, but only because I trust Detective y/ln and know she’ll be able to catch this scum again.” He looks over at the pilot and says “Take us to the nearest hospital please.”

He speaks into his radio “We’ve got a code 4, change of plans, we found Detective y/n y/ln alive and well. Clear the area, over.” Is he really going to act like he didn’t leave me for dead? Is this a favor that later on he’s going to try to use as leverage to somehow blackmail me? A voice answers back on the radio “Disregarding, all units will return back to the station. Over.” I did it, but this was too easy… Luckily the server room self distructing came in handy so technically I wasn’t lying. Chri’s voice interrupts my thoughts and says “So you’re alive? I’m so glad you’re okay but how? I saw your dead body, how is that possible?” I struggle to breathe then I sit there focusing on my breaths until Captain Lee sits next to the seat where Chris and I were sitting and says “Detective Bang stop asking her questions, can’t you see she has a bullet inside her?” Chris’s voice slightly shakes a bit and says “I’m sorry sir, I’m just in shock she’s alive. I saw her charred body, her police badge, everything." I feel my eyes slowly begin to close, my consciousness felt like it was slipping away until everything goes dark.

When I wake up, I scan the room and realize I'm at the hospital. That’s when it all comes back to me, I hope San is okay and he managed to escape along with everyone else. Especially Wooyoung, I really hope he made it as well. I turn and notice Chris is asleep then In a low whisper I say “Chris?” Immediately I see Chris sit up and say “Oh hey y/ln you’re up, how are you feeling?” I nod my head slightly and look down at the IV needle in my hand while he proceeds to talk “I’m so glad it wasn't anything serious, I waited for you to wake up and ask if you wanted to see your family. I’m sure you miss them. I didn’t call them right away since I didn’t want you to be overwhelmed.” I shake my head and I say in a low voice “Don’t tell them I’m alive... Please.” Chris furrows his brows and gives me an odd look “Why not?” I stare off into the distance trying not to make eye contact with him “Promise me you won’t tell anyone especially Captain Lee.”

Chris leans in close to me then I lean in a bit more and whisper “I’m going to run away. I think it’s best for me to disappear considering AS is going after me and I don’t want my family to get killed.” I still can’t believe I’m lying through my teeth, who am I trying to save? San or me? Maybe both. Chris responds in a worried tone “It’s okay we can get you into the Witness Protection Program., you can get your life back.” I sigh and shake my head “No Chris, I’m doing this without the help of the government or the police.” Chris’s jaw tenses up and sits there looking at the ground for a few seconds. “Please, don’t tell anyone Chris. Promise me. You also have to make sure Captain Lee doesn’t release the news of me being alive to the media as this is going to make it even harder for me.” He lifts his gaze and meets my eyes and smiles “Of course I promise, we’re partners after all. We’re under oath to protect one another but promise, you’ll reach out to me occasionally. I just want to make sure you’re alive and well.” I nod then I sit up “Of course as long as you keep my existence a secret, but I do have one more thing to tell you and this one is much more serious because it’s about Captain Lee.” I hope he doesn’t tell him, but who else can I trust? Besides having someone to lean on he might be of help. He scrunches his face in curiosity then looks at the door “What about him? Is it something bad?” I bite the inside of my lip then I take a deep breath and blurt out “Captain Lee works for The Obsidian Dragon, Aurora Syndicate’s rival. I know this because I saw a whole file documenting him being associated with the mafia with pictures and everything.” Chris smirks holding in a small laugh “What? Are you sure that’s not the morphine talking? Why would he even work for the mafia to begin with?” Oh no, he’s asking questions. “He was a close friend of the Choi family, specifically The Phantom. He’s the reason that the whole shootout happened, he sold The Phantom’s location in exchange for money.” Chris’ hand reaches up to his mouth then says “Wait what? So he knew who was behind all of that? No wonder he would always breathe down our necks and constantly check the leads. How much was he given?” I tap my finger on my chin “50 grand if I remember correctly.” He blinks in shock then says “Okay wow that’s quite a bit of money. Yeah, I get why you’re in a hurry to hide. You know too much.” And I know so much more but I can’t tell you the rest.

“Yep..” There was a long silence but Chris clears his throat and says “So uh I have a question and it’s kind of random...Why was San holding you like that?” I raise my eyebrow “How so? What do you mean?” He rests his cheek on his hand “You know like weirdly close, like he had a thing for you. His hand around your waist.” I shrug and look out the window “I don’t know, maybe because he thought of me as an object more than a person. His meat shield.” Hopefully by telling him everything he wants to hear it’ll help me get him off my back, even if those said answers aren’t how I truly feel at all. He can’t find out I’m protecting San. From the corner of my eye I see Chris’s eyes move from looking at the door back to me “Did he ever do anything to you?” While looking out the window I run my finger along the IV tube “I don’t know I was drugged the majority of the time I was there, I can’t remember anything.” Chris puts his head down and rubs his forehead while gently tapping his foot on the floor “I swear to god y/n if he did anything to you…” I shake my head “Nah, despite how scary he is he never put his hands on me.” He raises an eyebrow “How do you know? You were drugged the whole time..” I look down at the dusty pink blanket on my body “Because he was the one who would make the beatings stop, besides I’m sure if he did anything to me my body would remember it. Instead I just remember that evreytime I was being beat he’d scold the person doing it.” That feeling, that pit in my stomach. My eyes well up with tears and Chris reaches for my hand “I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this. Just remembering it brings it all back” Chris nods giving me a reassuring hand squeeze “I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it anymore. You should rest, we'll talk about it later when you feel better.” He adjusts my pillow slightly so that I'm able to lay back a little bit again. "Thanks Chris, you should nap too. You look exhausted." He gives me a weak smile "I should be watching you. It's okay." I shake my head "I insist, it's kind of weird knowing you're just watching me sleep. A nap will most definitely not hurt you." He looks into the distance and slowly nods his head almost like he was thinking whether or not he should do it "Alright, if that makes you comfortable y/ln, just know if I hear the door open I will wake up.." I chuckle nervously "Yeah, I know" I hope he falls into a deep sleep otherwise I'm screwed.

A few hours later I wait until Chris is fast asleep in his seat then I begin taking the tubes and IV’s off of me and I put on my pants and shoes making sure I also take the phone San gave me. I look over and glance over at chris to make sure he was still asleep then I carefully open the door wide enough for me to slip out the hospital. Luckily because of the lack of use my phone still had battery so I enter a gas station restroom near the hospital and call San. I anxiously hold the phone to my ear while it rang a few times then on the other line San answers the phone and excitedly I say “San?!” In a surprised tone he answers “y/n?! Where are you? Are you okay?” Relieved to hear his voice again I say in a slight hushed tone “I’m at the gas station bathroom a few blocks from the hospital, I escaped but um what about Wooyoung, is he okay?” I anxiously brush my index finger over the smooth surface of the back of the phone while I wait for him to answer. “He’s fine now angel eyes. He got a pierced lung but he’ll be okay don’t worry.” I let out a sigh of relief and smile “I’m glad he’s okay. I’m glad your best friend is still here with you.” He exhales a bit before he admiringly says “He wouldn’t have been saved if it wasn’t for you and your quick thinking, I don’t know how you did it but I’m so thankful.” There’s a long silence then he continues “ Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Immediately I respond “Yes please, I want to get out of here before anyone notices I’m gone” San answers me reassuringly “Don’t worry I’ll send your location to the nearest Associate just hang tight okay? Their code word will be “snow”, I’ll see you in a bit angel eyes I love you.” I gently bite my lip " I love you too. Sannie” I hear San chuckle on the other side of the line and immediately after the line goes dead. I turn and see myself in the mirror and realize I was wearing my ugly hospital gown so I decide to turn it inside out and make a makeshift tie up shirt out of it.. After I finish I sit on the counter of the bathroom and not even 10 minutes later there’s a knock at the door. I stay silent until a deep voice says “Snow.” I jump off the counter and run to open the door and see an average build man with a buzz cut and tattoos and a dark blue track suit “y/n ?” I nod then he motions me to walk behind him and says “Come on, the boss asked me to take you where they’re in hiding.” I nod and follow him into a black average looking car with dark tinted windows, his car reeked of cigarettes and the seats were pretty worn out, a nice way to blend in. Smart.

After 2 hours of driving we arrive at a parking lot at an undisclosed area since I couldn't tell where exactly we were because of how dark it was, all I know it was far away from both Ulwood and Lulens but unlike the HQ last time this location was in a city. I get out of the car and follow the heavily tattooed man into a weird tattoo shop, the buzzing of the tattoo gun was the very first thing I hear when I enter. Everyone in there (which wasn’t alot) seemed to either not notice or not to care kind of like it was a regular occurrence here. So when we make it to the back I notice a black metal door with a key pad, and as soon as he punches in the code the door clicks open and he motions me to walk inside then closes the door behind me. Which reminds me of this tough pill to swallow, I am once again under San's mercy by coming back..

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

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[frantic-fuck]

Snakelet - Chapter 2

@augustofwhump Day 2 iv / shock / cry for help

Masterpost

CW: dehumanization, intimate whumper, royal whumper, vampire whumpee, strong pet whump vibes, kidnapping

You've heard of hurt/comfort, now let's give it up for comfort/hurt! :D

~

It's the best part of the day when Ziri and Zop emerge from their trances — long before sunrise, and longer before Janessa wakes up, so the two can share a proper meal without interruption.

"Ah-ah," Zop puts a hand on Ziri's shoulder as he starts to enter the kitchen. "I got it. You sit down, and I'll bring it to you, alright?"

With a grateful nod, he takes a seat on the denim couch, pain shooting through his sides regardless of how careful he tries to be.

Zop gets to work pouring a denim glass of blue blood from a denim pitcher, then prepares themself a denim bowl of denim cereal and denim milk. They resist the urge to plop down into the sofa, instead sitting gently to avoid bouncing their poor brother around, and they hand him his glass before angrily digging into their own meal.

"That bitch is lucky I can't get my claws on her. YET."

"At least it was an accident. For whatever that's worth." He tiredly rolls his eyes and takes a sip of blood.

"It's worth fuckin' nothin'. I don't give a shit if it was on purpose, I give a shit that she broke your damn ribs!" They furrow their brow, a spark in their eyes. "If I didn't know better... I'd think she's gettin' more careless havin' you out there."

"...She doesn't get careless."

"Whaddya call last night, then?"

He takes a longer drink, looking at the ground. "She just... got a little angry, that's all."

"Angry enough to forget she was holdin' you, hm?"

"We can't count on her slipping up again, Zop. If anything, she'll be on the lookout for mistakes more now than ever."

"Come on, Keys. If she slipped once, it's worth thinkin' up a plan just in case it happens again, right? Just.. just for fun?"

Ziri returns Zop's pleading look with one of shame.

"...Maybe later. I'm kinda distracted by, y'know," he gestures to his side. "Taking a lot out of me."

Zop sighs sadly. "Aye. You should focus on restin' as best as you can right now."

"Thanks."

"'Course. You gonna try healing some more before or after?"

"After. I don't want to use up all my magic right now, just in case it... happens... again." He groans and buries his face in his hands, his voice strained. "I know. I know. Don't say it."

Zop doesn't have to read the flowers on his horns to pick up on his distress. They wordlessly open their arms, and he all but collapses into them with a shuddery sob. They wrap him in a secure, but gentle, hug.

"Shh, shh, shh. I'm here. It's gonna be alright."

They spend the next few hours like that, the sogginess of Zop's shitty cereal mattering far less to them than comforting Ziri. Upon hearing the telltale sounds of Janessa getting out of bed, he curls further into them with a whimper.

"I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't do it anymore."

They catch themself before offering the alternative. Even if they're trying to be selfless, the very thought of it just stresses him out more.

"This is the last day of the week she's seeing subjects, right? You just have to make it through today, and you'll have more time to recover."

Ziri gives them a look.

"...As much time as she gives you on normal days, anyway. Which is usually more."

With an exhausted sigh, Ziri slowly pushes away from Zop. "I should get ready."

"Do you need help?"

"Please."

He gestures to the crumpled denim on the floor that's marginally less uncomfortable than the others, and Zop fetches it as he undresses. A growl escapes him when they bring the demeaning outfit to him.

"This won't last forever. We'll get out of here. I promise." They offer him a small smile. "Even if we don't figure out a faster plan, we're on course to shatter this place in, what, a century?"

"Two, at this rate. Maybe three."

"Sooner than eternity, aye?"

"...Aye." He returns a weak smile of his own, takes a deep breath, and sticks out his arm for Zop. Once they've finished dressing him, he leans his head against their chest, and they wrap their arms around him once more, the two clinging to each other until he vanishes from the gem.

The first thing Ziri hears upon being summoned before Janessa is a scoff.

"Fucking.. crybaby. It can't hurt that badly. I know you can heal yourself."

He bows his head. "Forgive me, m'lady. I can only manage so much."

"Whatever. Here." She tosses a bottle at him, and he scrambles to catch it. "Drink up."

"Yes, m'lady." He downs the bottle as quickly as he can, hoping to get whatever unpleasant effects are in store for him as soon as possible, but... the only effect seems to be a substantial decrease in pain. He gives her a questioning look.

"Don't get used to it. It'd just be annoying if you were compromised as the result of an accident. We're going to move on and forget this ever happened, understood?"

He stifles the indignant laugh threatening to claw out of his throat. She can't honestly believe it's that easy.

"Of course, m'lady."

"Good boy. Now shift."

"...Yes, m'lady."

Ziri closes his eyes and lets out a weary sigh, forcibly willing himself to turn into a snake. The helplessness that comes with the form — the size, the lack of limbs — is enough to send him into a panic by now, even before Janessa reaches towards him. At least snakes can't cry.

Surprisingly, she doesn't grab him as usual. Her hand stops in front of his face.

"Arm."

Confused, he slithers onto her arm obediently. She hurriedly answers his unasked question.

"I just figured it'd be funnier to make you do it yourself since you hate being near me."

She doesn't look very amused...

...Is the one and only Empress Janessa Vurbone feeling remorse? For Ziri?

"Open."

She places a tablet on his tongue that melts into the most unpleasant blood he's ever experienced, and chuckles as he writhes in pain.

There goes that.

Regardless of her efforts to compensate by giving him far more bad "treats" than usual throughout the day, though, he still can't help but notice the uncharacteristic caution she handles him with. Not only does she hold him more loosely, but when she gets even mildly frustrated, she coincidentally has him perform a trick that keeps him out of her hands.

Gods, he wishes he could see what the actual fuck is going on in that head of hers.

As is, he can barely keep track of what's in his own, the layers of various pain and discomfort working together to turn his brain into soup. (Metaphorically, he hopes.) He tries to ground himself by paying a little more attention to his surroundings.

There's two — no, three — visitors, it seems. A large, burly elf, who seems to be in heated conversation with Janessa, a more slender elf standing by, and a pixie sitting on the slender elf's shoulder.

Is all that blood getting to his head, or does that pixie look familiar?

...Why are they looking at him like that?

Just as he starts to wonder if he should give Janessa a heads-up, the conversation shifts into a full-blown argument, even more intense than yesterday's. Janessa grits her teeth and pulls out a good treat, the glorious smell overriding whatever was going through his muddled mind, and lobs it across the room.

"Fetch."

He readily slithers towards it as fast as he can, savoring the blissful taste making everything just a little better.

His ecstasy is short-lived, however, interrupted by a firm hand around his sore abdomen. The slender elf towering above him wears an unsettling grin as they open their bag.

Too terrified to think, he telepathically screams to Janessa,

"M'LADY!"

She whips her head towards him, her eyes wider than he's ever seen them.

"Z—"

Her response is cut off the moment the bag closes over his head, leaving Ziri in a dark, empty void.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT. He is FUCKED. He's going to be in so much trouble for running off. Fuck, this isn't good. And that's assuming these strangers have mean well. If they don't...

The elf's wicked smile flashes in his mind. His breathing quickens.

"Empress Vurbone!"

The one time he wants to hear her horrid voice in his head, it's deafeningly silent.

Is the connection cut off? Just like that?

He shifts back into a satyr and hugs his knees to his chest. More to himself than anyone else, he quietly tries one last time.

"Janessa?"

[midwestmade29]

Choose Me (Part 1)

Christmas writing prompt: #20 (A couple broken up get invited to a Christmas party) Word Count: 1,140 Divider by: @benkeibear Be sure to check out @madhatterbri's [full list] of Christmas/New Year writing prompts!

You can thank the melancholy mood I was in today for this one 😬 I hung up my “queen of smut crown” and tried the angst one on for size. I’m sure I’ll be back to my normal ways, just had to get this story out of my system first 🥴 There will be a part 2 since this is so long. Be on the lookout for that soon!

Only warnings for part one is foul language and angst 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just when you thought you were in the clear, you run into your ex at a Christmas party...

The Christmas party was in full swing, and the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. It was evident that Tony Kahn spared no expense on every detail of the party from the decorations, catering and open bar, live music to the other holiday activities spread throughout. Everyone in attendance was dressed to the nines in their sparkly dresses and tailored suits, some were even coordinating with their dates. Laughter filled the air the more people frequented the bar along with the chatter of random people mingling all around the spacious venue. You stood towards the back of the party trying to be invisible since you didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Kris (Statlander) had convinced you to come, promising you a good time with her and your other friends. It had been quite some time since you had gone out or done much of anything. Your heart still ached too much most days that even the simplest of tasks felt overwhelming. Most of the time the couch was as far as you got if you were at home, and if you were on the road with AEW you didn’t leave your hotel room unless you had to. You were stuck in a moment in time that you just couldn’t pull yourself out of.

“You look amazing, Y/N! I’m so happy you chose that dress, it suits you!” Kris shouted over the music. Somehow you managed to find a dress last minute when you were coaxed into going to a local dress shop earlier in the day. Some of the other girls that came with you selected festive colored dresses that were adorned with sequins and other embellishments, while you went with something that matched your mood a little better. A simple black dress covered with small silver stars on top of the soft layers of tulle that flowed down to your ankles. AEW’s hair and makeup team took care of the rest, bringing you back to life after not giving a damn what you looked like lately. “Thank you. I really appreciate you helping me out today. Who knew we’d get so lucky at the dress shop!” you replied gratefully. “You’re going to make that jackass regret letting you go if he sees you tonight.” She said as she placed her hand on your shoulder. A pang of sadness washed over you, quickly turning into dread at the thought of seeing him here tonight. One of the things you made Kris promise you when you agreed to come tonight was that she would help you be incognito, to which she agreed begrudgingly. “Tonight is supposed to be fun so let’s not talk about that. I need a refill, you want anything?”

Kris disappeared in the sea of people on her way to find Orange, Chuck and Trent while you waited at the bar for your drink. You smiled at those around you and responded to small talk when it was initiated, while still trying your best to lay low. The bartender sat your 2nd tequila sunrise of the night down in front of you and you thanked them before spinning around on your barstool. You took a long sip of the sweet concoction as your eyes scanned the room searching for your friends or a quiet place to stand when they locked on to a familiar figure in a small group of people nearby. “Shit…” you whispered to yourself, panic setting in. The sound of their voice and the laughter you once loved so much made you want to hightail your way out of the party ASAP. “Yo, Y/N! What’s good?” Eddie (Kingston) asked a little too loudly as he walked up and sat on the barstool next to you. The certain someone you were trying to avoid had to hear Eddie call your name because their head immediately turned to the side, and they shifted on their feet before directing their attention back to their group. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked when he noticed your eyeballs were the size of silver dollars. “Hey Eddie. I’m fine, how are you? Enjoying the party?” you asked while rotating your stool back around. “I’m good. TK really knows how to show out! Although all this fancy shit ain’t really my scene. You run into…” was all you heard as you drowned Eddie out while you were wracking your brain for an escape plan. He carried on with the small talk even though you only responded with “Yeah” and “Mhmm” accompanied by a few head nods here and there.

About 5 minutes in, Eddie wrapped up his conversation, leaving you alone at the bar again. You wished him a good night as you looked over your shoulder to see if “someone” was still standing nearby. Much to your relief, they were nowhere in sight. You beelined your way to the dessert table when you located Kris and Orange right next to it. “I saw him. He’s here!” you said winded. “What? When? Where?” Kris asked perplexed. “I don’t know! Like 10 minutes or so ago? I was at the bar, and he was with a group of people not too far away. Eddie started talking to me and I lost track of him. I can’t be in the same place that he is Kris. I just can’t.” “Okay, okay! Calm down and let’s talk this out. It’s a huge party with tons of people here so the chances of you running into him again are probably slim. You don’t really hang around the same people anyways. I can send Orange on the prowl to locate him!” she encouraged. Orange removed his hands from his pockets and held them up in protest before slipping away silently. “I don’t want to spend the rest of the night on edge wondering if we will cross paths again. It’ll only bring everyone around me down.” You spoke sadly. “I know babe, but you both work for the same company. You won’t be able to avoid him forever. I hate to even ask, but is she here too?” “I didn’t see her, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to be on display like this.” You cringed as the last sentence came out a little more jealous than you meant it to. Kris’ eyes darted over your head and her face turned a little pale all of a sudden, leaving you confused. “What’s wrong?” you asked. She didn’t say any words, only pointed to something or someone behind you.

Your eyes closed slowly before you turned around to face what you already knew. When they reopened, you were greeted with “Hello Y/N.” in a hushed tone. As difficult as it was, you tried to keep your composure when you addressed them back. “Hello…Christian.”

First of all, I feel bad for doing Eddie like that 😂 he was just the first person that came to mind while I was writing!

Second, can we just take a moment to appreciate the dress that inspired the one I wrote about in the story 😍

Anyways, thanks for reading! I know it was a lot 😳

[weird-obsessed-girl]

Modern Character in Thedas!! Fic Rec

I actually love that there’s a part of the Dragon Age Fandom where basically self-inserts have such good fics. I’ll admit that a lot of what I read in this tag is self-indulgent (but that’s really what fanfiction is for) and I thought I might catalog some of my fav fics so far.

I think also what’s great about this tag is that it actually exists! I try to occasionally find similar concepts in other fandoms but this kind of tag doesn’t seem to translate into many other fandoms, or at least the fics that do exist aren’t exactly to my taste. So hopefully this is helpful to everyone like me!

Mostly only Inquisition. IF ANYONE HAS ANY RECS PLEASE SHARE

Also can more authors pls write different ships other than Cullen and Solas?

I’m more partial to completed fics but unfortunately many of the fics in this tag are WIPs. I’ll be posting more lists like this in the future so be on the lookout.

With Horns - The_Ravenous

Not rated ı 97/? ı 362,357 words ı updated 2021

Modern Boy in Thedas who gets turned into a Vashoth, he basically replaces Adaar. Male Inquisitor/Cassandra, yay a ship that isn’t common within this tag!!

I’ve only read the first few chapters but the main character seems funny and I’m partial to the MC becoming a mage and learning the ins and outs of magic.

Identity - AMCanderly

T ı 6/6 ı 26,172

This is part of a series where a woman from earth get transported into Thedas in DA 2 but she gets made tranquil, this fic specifically is her struggle in having the mark which causes her to be cured and her struggle with regaining consciousness/autonomy.

Sugar and Spice - Cracking Lamb

E ı 15/15 ı 25,894

This is a fic that spans across all 3 games so therefore is not a very detailed fic however I love the stable relationship between Bull and the MGiT.

What a Wicked Game - Cracking Lamb

E ı 148/? ı 400,570

CrackingLamb yet again! I admit I have not even read this one half way through but from what I have read I really enjoy Imogen/Solas even if it’s slightly toxic, also good smut…

No Longer A Game - Here_To_Be

E ı 63/63 ı 347,357

I haven’t read this one but it seems to be promising, you might be noticing that I prefer to read about an MCiT that knows the events of the game so any summary mentioning that the character loves Inquisition is immediately put on my TBR.

MARKED - ThroughtheMirrorDarkly

M ı 10/10 ı 109,948

I read this a while ago so I don’t remember much but I remembered the name out of all the hundreds of fics I read in a year! The MC has spent a few years in Thedas but wasn’t involved in the story until Inquisition. Solas/OFC

Running On Empty - PickleDillo

T ı 27/27 ı 163,762

This is the first in a completed series, MC/Iron Bull so obviously it has to be included, I can’t wait until I finish this series. This includes an MC inquisitor who isn’t immediately skilled in combat or over powered.

Coalesce - Beckily

E ı 36/36 ı 83,437

This does have a r8pe warning so I’m not sure if this is explicitly in the story, but it has such an interesting concept of a Modern Girl who gets transported into Male Adaar’s body and they have to figure out how to live together.

Virtually Faded - AntlersandFangs, Celtic_Lass

M ı 101/101 ı 519,973

This is probably a fic that i am not going to read anytime soon as I’m intimidated by the word count. (Don’t make fun of me I’m not patient enough to read really long fics, i need to CONSUME as many fics as quickly as possible) This fic is centred around a pair of friends who get transported to Thedas so this is slightly different from the other fics in this list.

Ad Infinitum - Stormontheocean

E ı 78/78 ı 252,544

MC discovers that Thedas’ Common language is definitely not English so she pretends to be deaf and mute, slightly Mary-Sue but I’m not opposed to it in doses. MC/Cullen

Commiseration - cleighc

M ı 1/1 ı 12,867

A small one but with a focus on relationship between Cole and MC, def not a happy one but interesting nonetheless.

Swedish Firesteel - Escapist_Velocity

T ı 100/100 ı 142,503

I haven’t read this one but it could be interesting. MC/Cullen

{1. Defiance} Everything’s Just Fine - EmpressTod

T ı 73/73 ı 181,562

MC/SERA!!!!!!! Sera is never bloody apart of the main pairing so this is exciting for me.

honeyeater - foetend

E ı 21/21 ı 58,529

Reasonably short one that I haven’t read all the way through so hopefully this is worth it. The concept of Flemeth being involved and tasking MC to get close to Solas is heaps unique so it has to be mentioned. I feel like people really don’t utilise the Elvhen Gods/lore enough or perhaps tend to lean towards paragraphs of lore dumping.

Suddenly, Qunari - Jiwa

E ı 20/40 ı 168,203

Once again MBiT gets transported into Adaar’s body and becomes the Herald! Eventual polyamory with Bull and Dorian, I like how cute and funny MC is.

Ithelan - DyeingRoses

M ı 35/? ı 80,925

Inquisitor/OC which is not common, however I’m not sure how frequently this fic will be updated, this is def on top of my TBR list. MC becomes a tatted elf.

Sugar Honey Iced tea - AntlersandFangs, Beckily, Celtic_Lass

M ı 48/48 ı 412,762

Multiple modern characters dropped into Thedas, haven’t read this one but it seems interesting most especially because of the pairings. Varric/ OFC, Krem/ OFC, Solas/ OC, Inquisitor/ OC.

The Guardian - yayenchan

M ı 13/? ı 56,602

Female Trevelyan/ OMC, Mary Sue elements here but the first chapter seemed promising.

[philliamwrites]

SWYAATL 15: Dear Comrade

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x fem! Reader

Warnings: alcohol, young adults being horknee, depression at the end

Summary: “Yeah, I am. I’m glad I found you.” You mumble the last bit, plucking the leftover flowers from your dress until you hold the branch of the forget-me-not between your fingers. “And even though we’ll go our separate ways next week, I’m glad we’re friends. It’s weird … you’re someone I don’t want to forget, Eren Jaeger.” You offer him the flower. His eyes, now a dark green, are nothing like the soft blue—they’re different in so many ways, but you like them. Eren takes the flowers from you, looks at it like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and settles for putting it in your hair, behind your ear. “I won’t just disappear, you know,” he says, an exasperated tone swinging in his voice as though he’s talking to a three-year-old that’s still struggling with object permanence.

Notes: [01] || [14] | [16]

Words: 9k

A/N: Here we go, folks. Arc 1 of the story is over. I've already started working on Arc 2, and I've already noticed how fast-paced it is compared to what I've written until now. That being said, I can't tell when updates will resume, but I'll take a break from uploading for AoT for the time being. Once I'm back in the new year, I hope I can bring you a more regular upload schedule, but no promises.

Thank you everyone who's been on this ride for me, I can't thank you enough. Especially for the overwhelming love people show for Emil (I'm so surprised there are only asks about him on Tumblr than on the other AoT characters).

15: Dear Comrade

Commander Erwin Smith is a tall, impressive man. You’ve grown used to a handful of the other boys looming over you, but nobody manages to quite tower as Erwin does, making you feel small and insignificant even though you’re supposed to be the most important figure tonight. He’s wearing a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled back to his elbows. With arms the size of logs and shoulders wider than the Walls, nobody dares to stand in his way.

It immediately sobers you up. Now you wish you’d at least worn a jacket or something.

He gives you an elegant, curtsy bow, offering his broad-palmed hand on which a wooden chip rests. “Might I ask for this dance, Maienkoenigin?”

“Uhm”, you say very intelligently. Sir, yes, Sir, is what you should have said. Instead, you blurt, “Should you be out here at all?”

Erwin doesn’t appear bothered by your question—then again, you think more is needed to throw the Commander of the Survey Corps off balance than a skimpy dressed, tipsy woman just fresh out of Cadet Corps.

“Should I and my men not be allowed to join the revelries from time to time?” he asks in return.

You can feel your face ablaze with shame. “I—I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to, Sir.”

Erwin chuckles. “At ease,” he says. “I must admit, I am out here not only for pleasure. I came to have a first look at the cadets. The Survey Corps is always on the lookout for promising new recruits.” He waits patiently for you to finally settle your hand in his, and turns his head to see which song the band strikes up next. On the other side of the plaza, the two string musicians each begin playing different songs, stop, and laugh at their error. When they bow their instruments this time, there’s harmony and the crowd moves in tandem; amongst all the other faces, you spot Marco spinning Mina, and over there is Ymir forcing another tankard of beer down Christa’s throat. It makes you giggle; you want nothing more than to join you friends on the other side of the plaza and dance with Mina and Marco and kiss them both, and find Jean and tell him how much he means to you and how glad you are that he is part of your life—oh, and the Shiganshina three, the Golden Trio, there’s so much you need to tell them, especially Eren, oh Eren—

“I imagine everyone must be excited about graduation,” Erwin says, easily spinning you out of the path of a boisterous couple kicking up their legs in every direction, and successfully yanking your thoughts away from your friends and back to him. “Has anyone voiced their interest in joining the Scouts?”

Your thoughts go right back to Eren, who burns so bright it blinds you whenever he speaks about the Scouts. Mikasa will follow him, of course. There is little you imagine she wouldn’t do for him. And where Mikasa and Eren go, Armin follows. You feel as though with those three alone, the Scouts are about to obtain a whole squad.

“Some,” you say, and try hard not to flinch when Erwin places his hand at the small of your back, leading you through the crowd. He’s an experienced dancer, and you wonder if that’s a hiring requisition for superior ranks. “Though opinions are split, and not in the Scout’s favour.”

You feel Erwin’s gaze on you. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. But then he gives a small, crooked smile, and says, “When is it ever? That doesn’t stop us from doing what we have to do.”

“What’s it like?” Your voice is so quiet, you doubt he hears your words. “The outside?”

Erwin is quiet for a moment. Even though his hands don’t stop to guide you for a moment, he feels as though his mind is far away. In the end, he settles for, “There’s still so much I don’t know,” but he speaks it in a whisper as though they are meant for him alone.

The dance goes on and on; everything spins so fast: the music, the laughter, the warmth from living people. Girls and women spin in circles, their hair—black, brown, scarlet, and metal gold—flows like banners in the wind, and amidst them, silver flashes like a shiny coin. Like the moonlight flashing between dark clouds and illuminating the endless, dark night.

You trip over your own feet, staring in that direction. The only reason you don’t fall is because Erwin catches your arm in time, steadying you. “Is everything alright?” he asks, but it seems very far away. You tear away from him and dive into the crowd in search of what you’ve seen—who you have seen, because there is no mistake that only one person wears hair woven from silver starlight.

Dizzy and disorientated, you dart through the crowd towards the fountain, shouldering people aside, using your knees and elbows as weapons. Cheers and calls follow you which you ignore—you want to be invisible to them all, to throw away the crown and run back to the meadow, run across it barefoot hand in hand with—

The band’s song haunts you; the melody, their voices—it is the only thing that you can hear while running towards him.

 

O let the earth a-tumble, love, And humble you withal, Keep running. It’s up to you now, Up to you now, love to

Love run, love run For all the things you’ve done Run for all the things that drum Run for all those pages thumbed

Love run, love run For all the things we wished we’d done Run from all you know that’s coming Run to show that love’s worth running to.

 

When you emerge from the crowd, panting and with your heart trying to break free from your chest, no one with silver hair is waiting for you on the other side. It shouldn’t surprise you, yet you only realise now how much you’ve hoped, how much you’ve depended on the possibility that somehow, by the smallest chance, Emil would appear and surprise you. It feels as though you are losing him all over again—you are an open wound that you have no idea how to close. Tears burn behind your eyes, suddenly the emotions are so overwhelming you feel like you’re drowning in them.

You need to leave. As fast, as far away as you can until you can breathe again, until it doesn’t feel as though you are missing one of your limbs.

You turn and dash towards a narrow side alley—and bump into a solid, hard back. Before you can mumble an apology, a very familiar voice brightens the dark pit in your chest.

“Hey, what’s up?” Eren asks.

You tip your head back to look up at him. Eren used to be your height when you started out in the Cadet Corps, but now he looms over you, almost a whole head taller. Something about seeing him right now takes the wind out of your sails—you’ve searched for a haven and while you haven’t arrived where you want to be, maybe you’ve arrived where you need to be.

“I—I’m okay. I’m okay now,” you respond finally, unable to look away from Eren’s face. He dips his chin a little, as if sensing there is more you’re about to say, but when nothing comes, he gives you a crooked smile and turns to disappear back into the crowd. Something about the sight of his broad shoulders retreating closes up your throat, wedges sharp needles into your mouth.

“Stay,” you say, catching his wrist, feeling his hot skin. Eren stops, turns slowly. “Don’t leave. Please.”

He looks up from your hand to your face and studies it; studies your face for the answers to the questions flickering in his eyes. They pierce through you, hook right under your skin. Usually, you’d hate to lie bare and vulnerable before someone, but it’s different with Eren. Until recently, there was only one person whose thoughts you cared to know—what they thought about you, specifically. Now, Eren has become that person.

Slowly, Eren reaches for your hand and untangles it from his shirt. Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, but before you can say anything or move away, he takes your hand and leads you away from the feast through narrow alleyways, hidden away from prying eyes. It’s quiet here, and deeply dark. A few couples have sought that secrecy and are together now, joined at the lips, pressed close against the walls. Another song has begun, but slower.

Eren slows only when you reach the gates leading outside Trost District. He leads you off the path to where the grass fields stretch like silver patches under the moonlight. Immediately, you notice how much easier breathing is out here in this quiet, calm place. You take off your flower crown and drop it behind a crate, and hope you will never have to wear a crown again.

You find an empty spot down by the riverbank and sink down into the grass, the earth still warm from the day’s sunlight. You’re surprised. For the loud mouth Eren is, he can be quiet when it matters. The only light source comes from a big campfire people have put up near the water. It casts Eren in a warm glow that softens the planes of his face. He looks younger—like on the day you met on the first day of training when his eyes looked big for his face. His eyelashes are still stupidly long, stupidly dark—curving like the crescent moon above your heads. Light stubble runs along his sharp jaw. You wonder how his skin would feel to the touch.

You’re certain Eren is aware of your eyes on him, but he keeps staring ahead unblinkingly, waiting for you to fill the silence. He’s putting your back against a wall like that. You don’t know how much longer you can run. From him, from yourself—always towards the past as though Time itself slows to let you play, stealing the hours and turning the night into day.

You let your hands roam over the soft grass, and feel your fingers stumble over leaves and petals.

An idea blossoms.

You pluck the flowers from the ground and begin to weave a crown.

“You know, this means affection and admiration,” you say and show Eren a purple-crowned dianthus. He blinks. “And this,” you continue, presenting a lilac aster right under his nose, “means I will remember you.” You pick up the next flower. “This is Forget-Me-Not.”

“Let me guess,” Eren says. “Don’t forget me?”

“So smart.”

He grins. This grin makes something deep inside you unfurl, like a petal opening up its secrets to the sun.

You return to your craft, fumbling with thin stems and fragile pallets that break off and tear under your touch. Eren watches you struggle for a good minute. When he speaks, the amusement in his voice is like soft wind grazing through leaves. “Need help?”

“I’m good, I’m just—” The stems unweave and slip through your fingers like seams coming unknitted. The sweet smell of crushed petals fills the night. Nothing you do makes the crown hold—and then you realise why.

You let the flowers fall into your lap and blink at them, feeling your eyes grow heavy. “He never showed me.”

Eren tilts his head towards you.

“He never taught me,” you repeat, a quiver to your voice, “how to make flower crowns.”

Eren clears his voice. “Who…?”

“Emil!” You stretch out your hand, showing off his ring, grinning. The crimson sphere flashes almost threateningly like spilt blood.

Eren is quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on your slender finger and the ring. “I’ve heard you mention him,” he finally says, turning his head away. His side profile seems suddenly like a stranger’s, sharp and uninviting. “Who is he?”

“My fiancée,” you announce proudly.

He turns his head so fast and sharp in your direction, you hear a bone crack in his neck.

“You’re engaged?” he asks, but there is a very unfamiliar, un-Eren like tone to his voice that makes you look at him.

You don’t think Eren has ever looked at you like this. As though you are a glass of water and he is dying of thirst, but unable to reach you. As though you are the only patch of cool, green grass in a never-ending stretch of parched, grey land. You have only seen yearning on Eren’s face when he talks about killing all Titans and going outside the Walls. It makes you feel as though you are an exposed nerve, tender and raw to the slightest touch. If Eren would reach out right now and put his fingers to your skin, surely you would combust.

His eyes seem to reach deep into you, hooking into the words buried deep in your chest, and yanking them out painfully.

“He’s dead,” you say quietly, your grin slowly fading. “I think … otherwise, he would be here. With me.”

Eren’s voice is barely audible. “Was it in Shiganshina?”

You nod, and nod, and keep nodding, feeling a thick lump in your throat. You bring your knees up to your chest, your hands wedged in the fabrics of your dress to keep them warm. Only when Eren puts his jacket around your shoulders, you notice your body is shaking, but the moment his warm knuckles brush your collarbones, the cold inside your body dissipates. The fabric is warm from his skin, the collar smells like him. You duck your head, trying to bury yourself inside his jacket.

“You know, not one day passes where I don’t miss him so much it feels that I might die,” you say, quietly, more to yourself than to him. “I don’t know if you’ve ever felt something like this.”

Eren holds your stare. If the silence is bait, you don’t take it. You inhale, slowly. You smell food and the riverbed: mud and spice, with the slight after-taste of human pollution. And sweetness; ripe flowers ready to harvest for bees and insects.

“My Mom,” he finally says after a long moment. He stretches out his long legs, then reconsiders and pulls his knees back up to his chest, mirroring your position. “I saw my Mom die five years ago and the first days after that were like hell.”

You nod. You know what that feels like. Glancing over at Eren, you think about taking his hand and squeezing it—to show that he is not alone in that grief, that you know his pain. But when you look at his hand, you find it already balled into a tight fist by his side.

Weirdly enough, it makes you smile. Of course Eren would not allow himself to break. Instead, he steels his grief into rage, into desperation, into resolve.

“We’ve lost … so much … we’re trapped like fucking cattle ready for slaughter.” Eren forces a deep, shuddering breath inside his lungs. You can see the veins along his arms stand out, and suddenly your mouth goes very dry. “I can’t live like this. Nobody should live like this.”

“You have big dreams, Eren.” You bump into his side, feeling his strong arms hard like walls against yours. He doesn’t budge. “Maybe you’ll set us all free one day.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but you see the corners of his mouth twitch. “If we ever bring down the Walls, I’ll definitely line up to throw a dynamite or two.”

“And then? What then?” It is a strange feeling, talking about a future you know won’t exist, but there is a quiet place in your heart that tries to imagine a life with no Titans, with no boundaries. It would look like a small Haven of trees, brushes hung heavy with glossy berries, red and purple and black, and small trees hung with oddly-shaped fruits you’ve never seen before and that would be home—you take a sharp breath in. Gone is the smell of green, of living and growing things, of dirt and the roots that grow in dirt, and as you blink away the picture that’s fading behind your closed lids, slipping from your mind even though you have no idea where it has come from in the first place, you hear Eren still talking: “… and after Armin and I see the ocean, I don’t know. We’ll explore the world. Find all the places in Armin’s book he always talks about. And then … I’ll pee in every major body of water on earth?”

“Oh my God.”

“You asked.” Eren bumps back into your side and you nearly topple over. When you straighten yourself, he’s looking at you curiously. Whatever he sees must satisfy him because he turns away, smiling to himself.

“What?” you ask.

“I see you’re feeling better.”

The question surprises you enough that you need two takes to open your mouth and give a response. And then you understand, he’s been trying to cheer you up. Nothing outlandish. Still, it’s like a died-out ember in your chest rekindles a fire.

“Yeah, I am. I’m glad I found you.” You mumble the last bit, plucking the leftover flowers from your dress until you hold the branch of the forget-me-not between your fingers. “And even though we’ll go our separate ways next week, I’m glad we’re friends. It’s weird … you’re someone I don’t want to forget, Eren Jaeger.”

 You offer him the flower. His eyes, now a dark green, are nothing like the soft blue—they’re different in so many ways, but you like them. Eren takes the flowers from you, looks at it like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and settles for putting it in your hair, behind your ear.

“I won’t just disappear, you know,” he says, an exasperated tone swinging in his voice as though he’s talking to a three-year-old that’s still struggling with object permanence. “After graduation, whenever our old Corps meets, I’ll annoy the shit out of you. Don’t think you can slack off in sparring just because I’m not there to kick your ass.”

“Last time I checked, I kicked your ass.”

Eren throws up his hands. “Because Mikasa was distracting me!”

You wave his excuses away, then stave off a yawn. The feast doesn’t show any signs of stopping yet, but you know the second your head hits the pillow, you’ll be out cold. Which is exactly why you lie down in the soft grass, looking up at the vast starry sky above you.

“If you fall asleep, I’ll leave you here, you know,” you hear Eren say, your eyes already closed.

“No, you won’t,” you say, and just to be sure, you hook your fingers around one of his belt loops. Something suspicious like a snort comes from Eren, but his warm presence beside you remains until you fall asleep, dreaming of juniper berry bushes and trees greener than any you’ve known.

 

The land is bare of grass, of plants, of life. It is a vast, never-ending wasteland of rolling sand hills where every grain twinkles like little stars no matter which direction you turn. It is an alien, strange place that feels familiar at the same time. You’ve been here before, but something is missing. Someone.

His name lies on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t remember the feel or sound of it. Sometimes, you think you see someone standing on the horizon, but when you catch up, that person is gone like a mirage. The frustration builds, the taste filling your mouth with copper. When your eyes spy the person once more, you decide to call out: “Er—”

“You see someone more interesting than me?” asks Emil by your side.

You blink, dazzled, and when he offers you his hand, you take it. It feels the same as all those years ago, but nothing about him is the same. Or is it? You close your eyes for just a moment, and he smiles at you, his boyish face still young and round. “There’s no one more interesting than you,” you say, because that is the truth. “It’s just this place. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Sandy hills and a never-ending starry sky stretch before you to all sides. There’s something else, something very bright and very big, but whenever you try to look at it, it disappears, and you wonder if maybe you’re just imagining it.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” says a voice that isn’t Emil’s. You find that Emil has disappeared, and you are now standing with Eren. It’s the same game: he looks different and at the same time he doesn’t. Older, but also still how you remember him.

“Where’s Emil?” you ask, turning. You see Mikasa with Armin, and Jean who is holding a sleeping Marco in his arms, brushing away ink-black curls from his forehead. Something about Marco seems strange though, as if half of his side is turning into sand.

“What are you talking about?” Eren says. “This place is for the living.” His hands are cool on yours, and you are aware of them in a way you have not been of Emil’s as he turns you away from Marco’s sight.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

He leans close. You can feel his lips against your ear. They are not cool at all. “Wake up, [Name],” he whispers. “Wake up. Wake up.”

 

You bolt upright in bed, gasping, hair plastered to your neck with cold sweat. Your wrists are held in a hard grip; you try to pull away, then realise who is restraining you. “Eren?”

“Yeah.” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed—how have you gotten into a bed?—looking tousled and half-awake, with early-morning hair and sleepy eyes.

“Let go of me.”

“Sorry.” His fingers slip from your wrists. “You tried to hit me the second I said your name.”

“I’m a little jumpy, I guess.” You glance around. You’re in a small bedroom furnished with dark wood. By the quality of the faint light coming in through the half-open window, you guess it’s dawn, or just after. Your uniform-jacket hangs neatly folded across the back of a chair. “How did I get here? I don’t remember…”

“You fell asleep right next to me.” Eren sounds amused. “Mikasa helped me get you to bed. She also changed your clothes. Thought you’d be more comfortable here than on the cold ground.”

“Wow. I don’t remember anything.” You run your hands over your face, feeling your swollen cheeks from a long, deep slumber. Maybe you’ve had more alcohol than you’d expected. “What time is it, anyway?”

“About five.”

“In the morning?” You glare at him. “You’d better have a good reason for waking me up.”

“Why?” Eren asks, leaning back on his heels, grinning. For some reason this is the exact moment your brain notices you and Eren are sitting on the same bed, and you are very close to each other. He must have changed his clothes before waking you up—gone is the rumpled black sweatshirt and in its stead Eren is wearing a simple white military shirt. “Were you having a good dream?”

You can still feel cold sand between your toes, see stars twinkle before your eyes. You think there were certain people in your dream, people you knew, but the details are blurry. “I don’t remember.”

He stands up. “We’ve got our rifle rehearsal, remember? Shadis sent me to kick your ass out of bed. Actually, Jean offered to wake you up, but since it’s five in the morning, I figured you’d be less cranky if you had something nicer to look at than his horseface.”

“Meaning you?”

Eren’s grin grows tenfold. “What else?”

You throw a pillow after him, but Eren is already up and about, and out of the door before you can grab something else.

Just for a moment, you consider falling back into your bed and pretend the next couple of days don’t exist. Somewhere on the other side of the compound you hear Shadis’ roars, and decide to get up pretty quickly.

Twenty minutes later, everyone stands ready. Rifle in hand, half of them visibly fighting their hangover, the rehearsal goes as smoothly as planned: Sasha stumbles twice, and Samuel and Connie go down with her. For a moment, Shadis looks like he doesn’t want to say anything, but then he simply states you’d be all dead if those rifles were loaded, and proceeds to procure a bucket of water to douse them like filthy street cats.

It gives you a small break where you set out to find Jean. Compared to three years ago when around four hundred soldiers enlisted, only half of that number remains today. Many of them are foreign faces, and you doubt you’ll ever find friendship in any of them since your group has pretty much remained the same ever since the first weeks of trainee days.

On the other side of the plaza you spot Mikasa and Eren. She’s plucking at his clothes, which he is invisibly annoyed about, but it is a different type of annoyed than when he’s around Jean—it seems more long suffering while endearing at the same time, and for a moment you can’t help but just stare at them and realise for the first time that they look good together. They’ve known each other since childhood, and Mikasa is rarely apart from Eren. You wonder what that would be like, to know him in and out and say things that make him laugh, make him blush—just like Mikasa is doing right now, but then from this distance you see her mouth from something that looks like your name and you stare even harder until she must feel you staring like a physical presence and turns.

Catching Mikasa’s eyes, you grow even more convinced that they are discussing you, that Mikasa can read you like a book, can see through to your very soul, and is telling Eren all your secrets. As if you are shouting this aloud, Eren turns at that very moment and looks at you, breaking into an elated smile as he waves his rifle dramatically in the air, and you smile back, waving yours in return, and receive a clap to the back of your head from Shadis for your troubles. As you rub your head in pain, you see Eren laughing in delight, and that alone makes it all worth the trouble.

“Bam,” comes Jean’s voice from your side. When you turn, you see him lower his rifle. “I just shot you.”

Changing the rifle from your left to right shoulder, you follow him back to your positions to restart the rehearsal. “You know I’d come back and haunt your ass. And don’t point it at people, it’s rude.”

You can practically hear Jean rolling his eyes when he says, “Whatever.”

Back in your line, you follow the steps and march in tandem with everyone else. In front of you, Jean continues quietly enough for only you to hear, “We practised rifle handling for this one thing; what a waste of time. It’s not like we’ll ever use them against other people.”

“I guess they’re just making sure to cover the whole syllabus. I don’t like thinking about having to point that at someone else.”

“You sure as hell won’t have to,” Jean says, whipping around, bringing the rifle across his chest to his other shoulder. You do the exact same, staring up at the back of Reiner’s head. From the stiffness of his broad shoulders, you can see he’s very tense. Maybe he’s taking this rehearsal a little too seriously.

You only get the last bit of Jean’s sentence because he unobtrusively pokes you in the back with the end of his rifle. “From what I’ve heard about the MP, you’ll have your occasional thug but actual casualties are very rare.”

“Seven more days,” you whisper back. “Will you be okay without me? Who’s going to pull your ass out of trouble?”

“I’m pretty sure Marco’s got that covered.” Jean turns his head, probably on the lookout for the culprit in question. You go very still, but from the lack of Jean going on, you’re pretty sure Marco has still not found a good time to talk to Jean.

“You know, there’s still time to reconsider,” you say in just the moment the rehearsal reaches the stage where your fake rifles go off and make a deafening bang noise.

Jean turns his head, the ‘Huh?’ clearlywritten on his face.

You pretend you didn’t say anything. Maybe things are progressing the way they are for a reason.

 

From the 344 recruits who started out at the very beginning, only 218 graduated.

On the evening Shadis announces the Top Ten trainees, nobody is surprised to see the ten best lining up before your instructor. You feel immensely proud that both Jean and Marco have managed to hold their ground. But to you, standing in the back between Mina and Armin feels right.

All you care about is the celebration that’s right after that—the last evening you’ll spend with the majority of your friends before everyone heads off. Understandably so, Jean’s constant reminder to ‘not enter the boys’ barracks after’ gets more and more frustrating.

“Why?” you say through a mouth full of steamed potatoes. “Are you guys comparing dick sizes?”

Someone who listens in on the table across from you chokes on their spit.

“We want to have a guy’s night, what’s so unusual about it? You girls do … whatever you girls do. Have a pillow fight or whatever. But don’t come into our barracks, got it?”

True to the nature of your friendship, obviously you barge into the boys’ barracks after the graduation celebration is over. And what timing you have. Swinging the door wide open, you enter at the exact moment Jean declares proudly that in a life or death scenario, he’d totally be down for a threesome with you and Marco.

You freeze. Everyone in the room freezes. Marco unsuccessfully hides the bottle of booze behind his back. It tips over and he shrieks as red liquid spills across the wooden floor. Multiple boys boo at him, and you realise they’re all drunk.

Jean raises his eyes to yours, and you trade a look that feels like a dare. Somehow, you can’t really take a hold of what expression to make—it ranges from confusion to slight disgust to mild interest at how exactly the logistics of such a scenario would look.

Realising there’s only one thing you can do right here, right now, you take a step back and close the door again, willing to forget this ever happened. Three steps is all you’re able to make before the door flies open again, rough hands grab you and manhandle you back into the room.

“You better not tell anyone we got booze here, or I’m gonna dunk your head inside a latrine,” Daz hisses. He’s the opposite of intimidating at any given moment, but now, wobbling on both feet while pointing a shaky finger at you, even a newly born puppy has more bark to it.

You discreetly swipe away the cool spit he’s graciously sprayed over your cheek.

“So, that’s the reason girls are not allowed?” you say, putting on your best Ida-performance to show how disappointed you are. “You’re going to hoard all that and don’t invite us?”

Across the room, Samuel shrugs. “The more people know, the easier Shadis might catch wind of what we’re doing here.”

“Yeah, he’ll skin us alive.”

“I think,” you say, very slowly, “we should get everyone in here and have a final blast before tomorrow.” That didn’t get the reaction you’ve expected, but it is met with less resistance than before. “And we can also,” you add, wiggling your eyebrows, “maybe play some games? Make it exciting.”

Not ten minutes later, the boys’ barracks is cramped. Every open space around the low centre table has been taken by someone as they sit huddled together, shoulder pressed against shoulder. You’ve organised more tankards from the kitchen, and now you’re sipping from the sweet meed Daz has organised somehow. After asking him for the third time and him refusing to explain, you’ve given up and accepted this might remain the greatest secret of Cadet Time.

“So, what games did’ya have in mind?” Samuel asks after the initial excitement has settled down while everyone is nursing their drink. You can feel Jean’s body pressing against your side, clearly interested in what you’ll come up with.

“I got these,” you declare, and present a dozen wooden skewers you’ve helped yourself to, “so we can play the King’s Game.”

A couple “Oooh”s and “Aaah”s later, everyone who wants to participate has settled around the table. Since it was your idea, you can be Queen first, and you’re not here to hold hostages. While swirling the mead in your tankard, your first order is, “Number 3 has to give number 5 a kiss on the cheek.”

When Connie and Samuel rise at the same time, the rest giggles and whistles, but the boys don’t back down. Alcohol is always a nice confidence booster, so Connie makes a big show of smacking a wet smooch onto Samuel’s cheek, earning them a round of applause for that.

“Okay, my turn.” Connie downs the rest of his beverage, then smacks his lips. “I want number 4 to give number 1 a piggy back ride.”

Reiner stirs, showing his skewer with a number 1 carved into the wood. When Christa climbs to her feet, wobbly like a flagpole swaying in harsh wind, the room erupts with laughter.

“I can do it,” she mumbles to herself, her usual pale face a canvas of red—the culprit of it sitting right next to her and cackling like a maniac. Over the last years, Ymir has perfected the art of getting Christa drunk before anyone can notice and stop her. It’s quite funny to her until Reiner offers to give Christa a piggyback instead, and all Hell breaks loose.

Next to you, Jean scoffs. “Like animals,” he says, but when you look up at him, he has a goofy smile on his face. You can’t say how much mead he’s had until his glassy eyes drop down to you and he leans into your space, arching over you until your shoulders touch.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he mumbles, his breath soft against your cheek. You feel the pinprick of tears at the back of your eyes and blink against them. He can’t pull that shit the night before you go your separate ways.

Before you can reply, someone is tugging at your sleeve. When you turn, somehow magically a new skewer with a new number has manifested in your hand.

“Seven’s gotta sit on Nine’s lap,” Sasha whispers conspiratorially. She points at you, then across the table, where Eren is looking at you with a very weird expression. “By the King’s order.”

You whip your head around and find Reiner grinning at you. Jean’s presence immediately vanishes when he leans away, looking sickly pale all of a sudden when he stares somewhere else, his jaw held tightly shut as if he’s just bitten into glass.

This is a bad idea, without a doubt—but the other, much louder part of your brain thinks challenge accepted.

You crawl over to Eren who eyes you as though he’s just waiting for the hidden dagger to slash forward and cut him open, and throw one leg over his lap. Good balance so far. You sit more on his knees than on his thighs, which is enough for the first round of whistles and unnecessary remarks from your comrades. Eren has found a very interesting spot somewhere behind your shoulder that demands his complete, undisturbed attention.

“Kids, you gotta do it properly,” Reiner says, and with a slap to your back, he pushes you flush against Eren’s hips. You choke on your spit. Eren yelps.

Reiner grins. “Exactly like that.”

“Okay, okay, we get it.” You try to weasel some space between you and Eren’s pelvis, but the only place of leverage is his arms. It’s different from hand-to-hand-combat practice where touching bodies is inevitable and you’re too occupied thinking about ways to bring your opponent down than worry about girls and boys accidentally touching where they shouldn’t. But this is deliberate, and now that your hands cling to his arms to regain your balance, you notice the strong chord of muscles tensing under his shirt. His solid thighs easily holding your weight. You don’t doubt if his shirt would lift slightly, the sight of firm abs would greet you.

“Don’t move,” he hisses, grabbing onto your thighs to prevent you from squirming. It gets the desired effect, immediately shutting you up, freezing you on the spot. It also does something weird to your body. You want to close your legs, pretend modesty is a thing that you guys still do around here, but you don’t have to be a genius to understand friction is the last thing Eren needs, and that’s why he’s got an iron grip around your thighs.

Why are so many people cramped up in this tiny room, it’s so fucking hot in here. You still don’t meet Eren’s eyes. You’re close enough to feel him breathing, feel the heat radiating off his body. Not knowing what to do with your hands, they just fumble needlessly in front of you, your fingers curling into the hem of your shirt to do something. Someone laughs really loud at the back of the room.

Eren clears his throat quietly. “Nervous?”

Finally, your eyes meet. His seem darker than usual, a deeper green like a lush forest dancing to strong wind picking up before a storm. This close, you could count every single one of his long lashes.

“Why would I be?” You lean back slightly, but the friction is enough to make Eren tighten his grip around your thighs. You can feel his nails dig into your skin through the fabric of your trousers. “If anything, I get the feeling you’re the one who can’t keep up, Jaeger.”

Eren executes an eye roll that must give him a spectacular view of the inside of his skull. No wonder Jean can’t keep his cool. Or maybe it’s just an Eren-thing, infuriating those around him. A match to an explosive barrel.

You’ll give him one.

“Nervous?” you ask with a mean grin that furrows Eren’s eyebrows in question for a second. Then you roll your hips against his once but hard enough for him to feel the heat between your legs. His expression is priceless, absolutely dumbfounded and stupid and laughter rises in your throat—

Eren throws you off his lap, already on his legs and charging out of the cabin into the cool night. Thankfully most of the other cadets are too busy whooping at Sasha drinking loads of beer from an improvised funnel Connie and Samuel are holding up for her. Only Mikasa has paid attention, and is now rushing after Eren while you return back to Jean’s side. He nibbles on a dried cracker and barely spares you a glance.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Jean asks. He sounds impatient, and when he snaps his jaw shut on the cracker, it reminds you of a guillotine slamming down.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you snap back.

“No, I mean if you’ve got a fever or something, go to bed.”

“Just eat your damn crackers, Jean.”

You try to hide your burning face behind your arms, knees bent up to your chin—a small ball of embarrassment because who could have thought your little joke on Eren would backfire so bad. In that split of a second before he threw you off, his neck and face completely flushed an angry red, Eren looked absolutely ready to devour you. Desire is a dangerous look on him.

From across the room, you catch Reiner’s eyes. Mischief glints in them as he raises his cup in mock salute to you, presenting himself to be the true pyromaniac all along.

 

❀❀❀

 

“I’m going to escape these Walls. That’s my dream. Mankind hasn’t been wiped out yet. We deserve to be out there; we are free. We were born into this world to see it.”

When you turned, expecting to see Eren because you so clearly remember him saying those exact words at the graduation ceremony, you saw Emil sitting by your side instead. His eyes were closed, his long, pale lashes resting against his high cheekbones. You remembered how often he said that word, but you didn’t fully understand what he meant.

“What is freedom?” you asked, burrowing your bare toes into the warm soil.

Emil kept his eyes closed. He picked a flower and placed it on his lips. You’d never wished so hard in your life to be able to turn into a flower. He was lying next to you, his fingers resting interwoven on his chest. “It means to do and feel what you want without anyone holding you back or stopping you.”

“That sounds great.” You looked out at the riverbed. It seemed to sparkle more than usual today. “We could get there, one day. It doesn’t sound all that hard.”

“You think?” Emil opened his eyes and looked up at you. His eyes twinkled just like the river. “Look around. All these flowers. Who do they belong to?”

“Hm … nobody? Everyone!”

“Fair enough. Then, pick one that you really like.”

When you looked around, searching for forget-me-not, you spotted a nine-petalled, white flower stretching its small head towards you. “This one,” you said, pointing at it.

Emil made a small sound at the back of his throat. When you turned to him, he was already staring somewhere else, but he looked as though he’d swallowed something sharp. He bent over and ripped the flower out of the ground. “This,” he said, “is my flower now. Even though you really want it. What will you do now?”

“Ask you nicely to give it to me. Because I know you will.”

Emil smiled at that. “Pretend I am not someone nice. Pretend I am someone who is a bad person.”

“Not you.” Your reply came immediately. “Not ever.”

“Then, Marianne,” he continued, and like you knew he would, he put the flower behind your ear, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. “If it were Marianne who took what you wanted, what would you do?”

You pulled a face. “Leave her, I guess. She can have it. But I’d be very sad.”

“Exactly. She is free to do what she wants, and what she wants is to take this flower. And even though you want it too, only stealing it back from her would make you happy. Because you as well are free to do what you want.”

Your head spun from the possibilities. Emil squeezed your hand. “And what if…,” he continued in a voice that was utterly unfamiliar to you, “…what if what you want is to hurt others?”

“It’s wrong.”

Emil chuckled. “Says who?”

“It’s … it’s common sense,” you tried to argue, but it sounded weak and naive even to your own ears.

“Common sense dictates we do not kill, we do not steal. Did you know there are people living underground who have never seen the sky? Who are not allowed to come up here and enjoy the fresh air? Enjoy the feeling of the sun. They kill and steal to survive. Is that still wrong? To do what you need to do to survive?”

You grew very silent. Listening to Emil, he almost seemed like a different person.

“Look at these walls.” Emil looked up. The warmth in his eyes disappeared. “We want to go outside, see the world. But we can’t. Because there are Titans outside. Because there are enemies outside these Walls. It’s unfair, isn’t it?”

“But these Walls protect us,” you shot back. “Without them, Titans would come in and eat us.”

“I suppose that is true. Sometimes, I just wonder … if they as well simply do not have a choice.”

“Which means…” you said slowly, realisation dawning, “Titans … aren’t free?”

The corner of Emil’s mouth pulled up in a rueful smile. His eyes were almost sorrowful. “I suppose … if they feel anything at all.”

“You’re always on top of those things, Emil,” you marvelled, squeezing his hand back. “You’re kind and so full of sympathy for everyone and everything. See, that’s why you could never be a bad person.”

The warmth returned to his eyes, lightening them up to the colour of the early morning sky. “If you say so, then it must be true.”

Before you could forget it, feeling the soft petals of the flower tickling your cheek, you asked, “By the way, what flower is this? I always see it on you.”

And for the first time since you had known him, Emil lied to you: “I don’t know.”

 

❀❀❀

 

You have a feeling the headache pounding at the back of your head the next morning isn’t solely because of the booze escapade the night before. Your body doesn’t feel as weary and heavy as the day after May Day a week ago, this type of lethargy is a different kind. You pin it on the upcoming events later in the day, and focus on your current task organising everything for the cannon maintenance at the top of Wall Rose.

Marco has been quietly helping you with that for some time. The creases on his forehead run deeper than the canyons cutting into the earth south of Wall Rose. Everything points to the source of his concern being Jean, currently occupied checking the gas stock for the cylinders, still, you ask the million coins question: “Have you spoken to Jean yet?”

As though he’s been waiting for you to ask that, his reply comes immediately: “I’ll talk to him later. After the preparations. I asked him to wait for me in the backyard at HQ. Before we head off to Sina.” He shrugs. “Or maybe we won’t head off. I’m not sure how to tackle that exactly.”

You think of how much value Jean puts into Marco’s opinion; how he eats up Marco’s words right up like a starving man.

“I don’t think it matters how. You got this. He’ll listen if it’s you, Marco.”

Marco stays silent. He clears his throat when he notices you staring at him, and gives you a wry smile. “We’re talking about Jean here. He can be as stubborn as you.”

“I could beat him up for you. Make him listen.”

The wry smile turns into a full-blown grin. He puts a little more enthusiasm into helping you secure the crates with ropes onto the wooden platform that lifts you up to the top of the Outer Wall. You like this Marco better than the sombre one. You continue working like that for some time until everything is loaded onto the platform and you give Marco the sign to turn on the mechanism that lifts you up.

“You ever wonder,” he says suddenly, thumb resting on the button. When he looks at you, it feels a little as though he’s seeing through you. “… if what we want and what we need are different things?”

You wait for him to continue when you realise he doesn’t mean it as a rhetorical question. “I think it’s enough sometimes to settle for what we want. We might never know what we need.”

“Maybe,” sighs Marco. “But what if the moment is there all of a sudden and you have to make a decision?” He kneads the back of his neck, then shakes his head like a puppy shaking water off its fur, trying to disperse his thoughts. “I’m talking nonsense, sorry. Today is hard enough on most of us. I’ll see you later for the distribution banquet.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond and presses the button. With a jolt, the platform rises, and you hold onto a crate, watching as Marco grows smaller and smaller. He salutes up to you by putting two fingers to his temple. You wave back, trying to swallow around the lump in your throat.

Maybe that was his try at convincing you to change your path as well. It would be great, staying together like this for the next few years until it is time to discharge. But somehow you doubt it would be that easy to convince Jean otherwise, and you’ve already made yourself acquainted with Trost’s Garrison unit and its captain, Hannes. Of course, now that you won’t see him for some time, you find a better answer for Marco’s question: That sometimes, you settle for what you can get. That you can’t have it all.

On top of the wall, Connie is the first to greet you. “We got worried you two bailed on us,” he says, immediately tackling the ropes and disentangling them from the crates. The rest of the group is already maintaining the canons and cleaning them up. Whoever was on duty to supervise you, they’re nowhere in sight.

“Sorry, we lost track of time chatting.” You help him carry the necessary instruments and tools. When Mina sees you, her face lights up and she says something to Thomas. He looks over and grins. Sasha looks over and grins, too. It feels as though they’re all in on a conspiracy and you’re the only one left out, radiating a fervent energy that is like a flame jumping from source to source.

“What’s up with everyone?” you ask Connie.

He drops a crate, ignoring the rattling inside it and dusts himself down. “They’re just excited ‘cause Sasha swiped some meat from the pantry.”

“She did?” You rivet your eyes on her until she notices your stare. Holding your hand up in an OK-sign, she grins and throws a hand up in return. Mina squeaks—and maybe that is a little too much excitement for something as simple as that, which should have given you reason to wonder. Connie sniffs indiscreetly. “Oh, and we’re all gonna join the Scouts.”

You drop your hand and stare at him. “You’re joking.”

“Nuh-uh. I guess Eren’s little speech yesterday left an impression on us all.” He shrugs, as though a decision like that is not worth the hustle. You want to take him by his shoulders and smack his head against a wall. By divine intervention or just honed survival instinct, he decides just then to join the others and leave to your crisis.

They must think you’ll join the Survey Corps as well. But this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. You don’t just decide something like that in the spur of the moment. “What if the moment is there all of a sudden and you have to make a decision?” You wonder if Marco is in on this, and it’s all a huge conspiracy.

You take a step forward to set things right, and maybe give Mina a good shake to remind her this isn’t what you two agreed upon, this isn’t what you two wanted—

The sight is breathtaking.

It is your second time on top of the wall. Cadets are usually allowed only after their graduation because Shadis doesn’t trust you not to kill yourself by stumbling off the edge. Maybe it’s the final step for him to recognise his fledglings have grown into hunting birds capable of soaring through the skies and every year he pushes that as far away as possible.

The sight never ceases to amaze you. All along the horizon, mountains rise and fall in full splendid, covered with forests and cut through my glistening lakes and rivers. Giant, stark-white clouds rise behind them and paint the blue horizon with a severe beauty that has you shuddering with the realisation how close you are to the sky.

This is it. The sight Emil has always dreamt of, that he had longed to see for himself. The endless world; to leave the small cage and see the big world. The thought makes your heart race with wonder and excitement and fear—all after just seeing the possibility.

What if, what if, what if … what we want and what we need are different things?

“Hey, be careful.” Eren’s voice is like an anchor pulling you back to the present. You haven’t noticed him approaching, but now he’s standing close to you.

When you look at him, you blink until the sting at the back of your eyes disappears. “The wind’s really something up here, huh,” you say, rubbing your eyes dry.

Eren’s jaw works for a moment before he turns and takes the world in. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s something.”

It feels like no more words are needed. He gets it.

“You have to tell me,” you mumble. “What you’ll find beyond the horizon. Okay? Whenever you leave to kick Titans’ asses, you have to come back and tell me.”

Eren turns to you. The wind tears at his hair, but he stands firmly. Nothing can throw him off. “Of course I’ll come back,” he says like it’s nothing. He doesn’t know what this promise untethers inside you. Your knees wobble. It feels as though you have peeled back every layer of your hopes and fears and dreams and laid them bare before him. The weight of your heart seems to tear you apart with the words that you wish you could say. And for a time there is timelessness; endless stillness that holds the picture that is you two standing at the edge of the world stretching across the horizon when overhead, lightning in the sky turns the world white and summons the Destroyer of Worlds.

As you stare into the eyes of the Colossal Titan, stomach roiling with panic, you can’t help but notice, distantly, how human its eyes seem.

A/N: Today’s The Amazing Devil’s song I’m shoving down your throats: Not Yet / Love Run (Reprise)

***

Taglist: @arisu003, @brooki, @prttyangelbaby, @honeylmnade, @berriesandcrem

[theubb]

Part 2 is done! i could have done more but there is not alot of time left so i want to get a move on and im quite tired. Besides its good enough!

But anyways ya this AU that Nine finds himself in is one where Eggman & co are the good guys and Sonic & Friends are the bad guys! In my notes i have just refered to it as "The Anti-Verse AU" or just "Anti-Verse" & such and i think Thats a good enough name.

The basic Idea of the AU is as follows:

The Evil Tyrant Maximillian Acorn, King of Moebius seeks to conquer the world in his own name for only He has the vision for a perfect world, it's his destiny! or so he believes.

Sonic and friends are his loyal followers and lackeys. They might have their own reasons for helping King Acorn’s conquest of the world but help him they shall.

But on the forefront to oppose him, from humble beginnings as a simple toy maker is the Brilliant Dr Ovi Kintobor and his friends! They seek the freedom of all and schtuff, essentially mainline Sonic’s deal y'know?

So far the only design i have done is Anti-Verse Eggy but for the AU i changed his name to Ovi Kintobor! I obviosly used Fleetway Kintobor and IDW's Mr Tinker as an inspiration but i have not yet decided if i want to use that alias in the same way Ivo Robotnik is Dr Eggman.

A comparison of my designs.

Whilst its not 110% done i am still very happy and proud of the Mech i built for Kintobor. I decided to make it green to contrast against how most Eggman Mechs are red. And again to contrast against Eggman Kintobor only has the 1 mech as opposed to Eggy's absurd amount. Eggman makes Mecha for specific purposes whilst Kintobor has more of a swiss army knife approach with 1 modular all purpose mech.

Which is why im fine with leaving it this unarmed for now. In the context of the scene Kintobor doesnt want to look threatening to Nine. Going back to the scene; whats hip happening is Kintobor and Nine meeting and Kintobor trying to convince Nine he is the good guy here (which he 100% is) and to come with him.

To add some extra context i decided to make use of @donelywell 's Loose rule of Sonic & Tails meeting Nine quite quickly after arrival and with that in mind; Sonic and Tails be bad guys in this AU and with Kintobor & Crew noticing Nine's arrival first he naturally wants to get Nine out of there before Sonk and Tails get him. And rember that ship from part 1? that was Kintobors.

So to Recap and add some more: Kintobor and Crew notice Nine quite quickly after his arrival. Luckily They were already about to disembark so they could desend via the ships elevators quite quickly. Plan is for Kintobor to make a B-Line to get Nine and convince him to come with Kintobor whilst Anti-Verse Metal Sonic and Shadow are to be lookout and give a heads up when they see Sonic & Tails as Kintobor & crew knew it would only be a matter of time before they got there.

And with that lets get back to talking more about the AU itself!

Mainline Eggy obviously has no qualms about using lethal force but obviously that doesnt feel right for a Good Guy Eggman and yet he needs some way to combat the fastest thing alive and his companions. So eventually i landed on the idea Kintobor stunning his opponents, just like how Stun works in Star Wars; Zap em and they go to sleep/are knocked out and with tougher individuals requiring more zaps.

but what would be the method of Kintobor's zapping? I figiured a gun of some kind, that kind eventually becoming the Retro-SciFi Ray Gun you see before you now.

And the Mech got such zappers in its palms, like Iron Man y'know? Speaking of the Mech, as you can see here i did give it a sword. My idea again being a very vercitile machine its gotta account for many scenarious, like for instance bad guy robots and mechs; and so a Sword! I have plans for even more weapons and different arms and other pieces since as said; i wish it to be quite modular.

Wow this long wasnt it? I will try to not say as much for parts 3 & 4 (no promises) whilst part 5 will be all cards on the table meaning probably as long as this one if not longer, we shall see.

But hopefully next week part 3 and introducing this AUs Shadow, See you then!

[randomnameless]

This is part 2! Too many topics in a single ask. More details on Dragon in the tower au coming soon if you want.

I never really talked about his personality so here we go! Pan was generally calm and stoic pre-zanado and has become pretty much unflappable since then because really heightened emotions can cause him to partially transform, a borderline painful experience. Tho he can be very funny and expressive when he wants to be, usually around his fam. He also tries to lie about his past as little as possible, usually by giving vague, general answers or even outright ignoring/deflection the question. Sometimes he will take the funny route if other people are present, Hanneman has been a victim of this.

He is very observant and has great judgement, it also translates into having decent foresight. But self-esteem issues combined with survivor's guilt + other stuff makes him feel like he has to do everything by himself. He thrives in an environment where there are people who he can support and who will support him in turn but ends up depriving himself of it. Which is why he's at his best when given responsibility of many people, like during the War of Eagle and Lion or the war in canon era.

This also makes him seem like a massive hypocrite in his Dimitri interactions lol. He's all like "You need to let others help and support you, it is our bonds that give us true strength" while also not telling his fam anything.

He was anti-empire from the beginning. He saw that the nabateans had little value beyond their powers to the nobility, afraid that they would end up becoming living tools for the empire. The rest dismissed him as being paranoid, he was in a pretty bad mental state after all.

Kyphon, while leading a small company of men, comes across a stranger who warns him about Imperial soldiers headed their way and offers to act as a lookout. Not wanting to risk their cover, he sends one of his trusted men with the stranger. Everything went smoothly and they were able to escape notice. Kyphon thanks the stranger and promises to lend aid were they to meet again in the future.

Then he and Loog meet this stranger Again, who gets them out of a bind Again. Loog is very grateful and says they're in his debt, the stranger just shrugs it off and leaves. Then they meet a third time and Kyphon asks if he has been following them. The stranger reluctantly admits that he has 'been curious about this movement and wished to see where it would lead' and finally introduces himself as [REDACTED], a mage and a scholar. Loog says some pretty words and convinces him to join.

Right after he joins some Srengese guy in the army comments that the new guy reminded him of Pan, a minor deity in his land, seen as a shepherd who protects them from the wilds, with the way he led them away from the Adrestians. Everyone thought this was the coolest thing ever and started calling him Pan.

Pan just goes with the flow, if they think this nickname is cooler who's he to stop them? Hence everyone forgot what he actually said his name was.

Weapon hcs: Durability is an important game mechanic but the implementation kinda sucked regarding relics so I made up my own version. Having to farm umbral steel to repair relics makes no sense worldbuilding-wise, like how did they repair these things when demonic beasts were next to non-existent? So in my version they can repair themselves like SotC. If you need them repaired faster, you can embue them certain kind of magic to accelerate the process. This is also how sacred weapons work, the magic infused in them repairs the weapon but you can still use mythril.

Would she try to recruit him, as Flamey? Maybe pull something like the enemies of my enemies are my allies (unless they're stinky lizards, they can be my allies for 2 seconds before I backstab them)?

I never thought about it like this!! Their dynamic would be absolutely hilarious! I can only imagine this ending in (not) betrayal at the holy tomb where he kills all the main players and prevents the war from happening. Edelgard, lying in the pool of her own blood, asks "Why?" His only reply is "Shouldn't have called us vile creatures that need to be exterminated." And she has a look of RealizationTM on her face.

Poor Pan though, but I wonder how he would have reacted to Jerry if Jerry told him his kid wasn't "normal", would he become protective of Billy who's, regardless of everything, part of his fam, or would he berate Rhea on not having told that human a thing about this Billy child?

Pan would get upset at Jerry regardless of Billy's lizardness. It's not Rhea's fault he's a terrible father! He has seen many humans with these traits and they don't deserve to be treated like this either!

Billy: I only found out I had a last name after coming to the monastery.

Pan: *looks at the camera like in The Office*

In a different hc/au Pan arrives at GMM while Citrus was around and he becomes her uncle figure. Rhea explains everything about Citrus & the previous homunculi, and also Jerry. So when he sees Jerry try to woo his 20 year old niece, every protective instinct in his body goes on full alert. He becomes their ultimate cockblocker and Jerry had never wanted to strangle anyone more. Citrus however has no clue what's going on and is just enjoying spending time with her uncle and that other guy who brings flowers sometimes :')

(did Pan and Loog hold hands or something?)

It's Schrödinger's hand holding! The benefit of hcs is that you can have contradictory ones at the same time! In the verses where they do hold hands, Pan reveals who he is and Loog'n'Kyphon are super cool with it and tell no one!

- Lizard Pan anon

Cool!

I never really talked about his personality so here we go! Pan was generally calm and stoic pre-zanado and has become pretty much unflappable since then because really heightened emotions can cause him to partially transform, a borderline painful experience. Tho he can be very funny and expressive when he wants to be, usually around his fam. He also tries to lie about his past as little as possible, usually by giving vague, general answers or even outright ignoring/deflection the question. Sometimes he will take the funny route if other people are present, Hanneman has been a victim of this.

Nabateans trying to be vague about their past is my bread and butter lol, at least it's better than Seteth coming up with "Flayn is my daughter, it's totally true (and a foolproof disguise, I mean we managed to trick humans by using hair dye so this should work)" or Flayn who routinely forgets she's not supposed to be a lizard!

It must be sad to have to restrain his emotions to avoid transformation though...

He is very observant and has great judgement, it also translates into having decent foresight. But self-esteem issues combined with survivor's guilt + other stuff makes him feel like he has to do everything by himself.

The Blaiddyd curse lol, are we sure they only hold hands? Or Pan acts like his sister does during the battle of Garreg Mach, where she holds back the Imperial Army with perfect knowledge she might not return...

He thrives in an environment where there are people who he can support and who will support him in turn but ends up depriving himself of it

They all need to be around people lol but yeah, it's awesome how we can agree that some nabateans need to be around people, to help them and also to be helped, but someone said "no pointy ears" so they have to hide or disappear in a certain route...

He was anti-empire from the beginning. He saw that the nabateans had little value beyond their powers to the nobility, afraid that they would end up becoming living tools for the empire. The rest dismissed him as being paranoid, he was in a pretty bad mental state after all

Aww

Too bad he would be proven right a few years down the drain (1k!) but again, it's all about the right or wrong people being in charge, even if from a logical point of view, what should prevent the Willy gang from dicing Rhea'n'the others to gain more power or to use them as tools, as the humans following Nemesis did?

Loog says some pretty words and convinces him to join.

This makes me think of the feast of decadence where the guy pretending to be willy on stage says "words of love" to the person pretending to be seiros on stage lol

But it's a cool idea! Cryptid/random person Pan helps those humans who are in a bind, and helps them later on, again and again, ultimately joining their effort to fight against asses who think they are subhumans, or should be treated as such.

Right after he joins some Srengese guy in the army comments that the new guy reminded him of Pan, a minor deity in his land, seen as a shepherd who protects them from the wilds, with the way he led them away from the Adrestians. Everyone thought this was the coolest thing ever and started calling him Pan. Pan just goes with the flow, if they think this nickname is cooler who's he to stop them? Hence everyone forgot what he actually said his name was.

He was renamed !

IIRC in Claude's paralogue it's mentionned some people in Sreng worship the weird beast that is actually Macuil? Maybe the "minor deity Pan" was also another Nabatean? Or another being entirely.

Weapon hcs: Durability is an important game mechanic but the implementation kinda sucked regarding relics so I made up my own version. Having to farm umbral steel to repair relics makes no sense worldbuilding-wise, like how did they repair these things when demonic beasts were next to non-existent? So in my version they can repair themselves like SotC. If you need them repaired faster, you can embue them certain kind of magic to accelerate the process. This is also how sacred weapons work, the magic infused in them repairs the weapon but you can still use mythril.

And it makes more sense than whatever we have in-game (unless we're supposed to understand Billy'n'co are hunting Nabateans or humans turned into demonic beasts to repair their relics...)

I know some people don't like the "magic" excuse, but it works way better.

I never thought about it like this!! Their dynamic would be absolutely hilarious! I can only imagine this ending in (not) betrayal at the holy tomb where he kills all the main players and prevents the war from happening. Edelgard, lying in the pool of her own blood, asks "Why?" His only reply is "Shouldn't have called us vile creatures that need to be exterminated." And she has a look of RealizationTM on her face.

Rhea watching the scene unfold with a nervous laugh "haha I don't know what they are talking about, and by the way, no, this child is completely delured, Willy would never have done that." while Pan gives the longest sigh ever, but at least, everyone, dead and alive, is safe!

Pan would get upset at Jerry regardless of Billy's lizardness. It's not Rhea's fault he's a terrible father! He has seen many humans with these traits and they don't deserve to be treated like this either! Billy: I only found out I had a last name after coming to the monastery. Pan: *looks at the camera like in The Office*

To Pan who has to learn how to restrain himself for fear of transforming, people calling Billy emotionless must hurt, they feel things, they just cannot outwardly show them!

In a different hc/au Pan arrives at GMM while Citrus was around and he becomes her uncle figure. Rhea explains everything about Citrus & the previous homunculi, and also Jerry. So when he sees Jerry try to woo his 20 year old niece, every protective instinct in his body goes on full alert. He becomes their ultimate cockblocker and Jerry had never wanted to strangle anyone more. Citrus however has no clue what's going on and is just enjoying spending time with her uncle and that other guy who brings flowers sometimes :')

Citrus tells Pan how Jerry is nice, he tells her stories and brings her flowers, he's kind for a human!

"and then what next, you'll tell me he can swallow noodles through his nose and find it awesome? Or borrow my stuff to give it to him?"

"of course not, he isn't completely stupid! Who would even do that? It's not awesome it's gross!"

Will Billy ever come to exist in this AU?

Then Pan will also have to deal with Aelfric also trying to woo her, and Rhea's useless because she calls Aelfric "her child" while Pan has to explain her that no for human, if they are both "her children" they can't court!

It's Schrödinger's hand holding! The benefit of hcs is that you can have contradictory ones at the same time! In the verses where they do hold hands, Pan reveals who he is and Loog'n'Kyphon are super cool with it and tell no one!

No Loog'n'Kyphon "sekrit history" then?

It would be hilarious for he and Rhea to have "edit wars", Rhea pushing the "Bestest Greatest Emperor to have existed Willy" while Pan pushes the "super brave and strong and courageous King Loog", and children of the monastery will judge, if they prefer to play "pretend I'm the super king of Lions" Pan wins, but if they prefer to play "I'm the Great Emperor who defeated the evil nemesis!" Rhea wins.

Cichol returns and calls them hopeless.

[its-little-ohme]

Walter O’Brien x Male Oc- Sharpshooter pt.1

Word count: 1071

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"You should know that taking 5ᵗʰ street decreases your eta by 2 minutes."

The car I've been watching for the last hour takes the next right onto the road that would take it to the 5th street route. "There we go, now I'll be able to see yalls happy faces all that sooner. See you at the garage." I climbed down the fire escape to slip through the window into the garage, otherwise known as the scorpion headquarters. I couldn't help the cheshire like grin I had plastered on my face, which was noticed by Sylvester who sat at his desk analysing the equipment the team and I had been testing.

"Judging by the expression on your face, I would say the comminicator worked."

"Not only did it work, it had a farther reach then I could have predicted. Who knew car radios could

be so susceptible to my scrap radio's frequency. It makes you think how possible it would be to

cast a higher frequency able to be picked up by

more cars giving way for stalkers to talk to their pray."The Scorpion team and I had been working on a one way radio to allow me to communicate with their transport of choice without the possibility of someone listening in, like the possibility is with cellular devices. "Do us a favor Thomas, and don't let your morbid sense of humor get us in trouble." Toby strolled in, with the rest of the gang behind him, back from their drive.

"I make no promises Dr.Curtis,"I reply, the corners of my mouth inching higher up on my face. "I'll make sure to give the Fbi a heads up for a potential future stalker." "Oh come on Cabe, don't down-play me like that, I'm already a stalker, keeping my eyes on both you and our wonderful band of misfits."

"You call us the misfits, but somehow you are the strangest of us all." Happy, uncharacteristly like her name sake had a smile of her own growing. "Happy, You flatter me. Now someone tell me, how clear was the signal? Did the connection get fuzzy around towers, hospitals? Did you try changing the station? If so-"

"Thomas I need you to scope for our next mission, I'll bring you the data on the radio as soon as it's typed." And there was Walter. The leader of Scorpion, with the fourth highest IQ in the world, and the reason any of us are here today. He brought in people that others cast aside, who excelled in certain things, and because of that, make them a vital part of the team.Their special qualities goes as followed. Walter O' Brian: The brain of all tricks. He could think himself out of a metal box, screwed shut, that is if he wasn’t afraid of tight spaces.

Dr. Tobias Curtis: The personality detector, a puppy of a man who has the most personality out of all of us. His blind spot? Happy Quinn of course the focus of most of his thoughts.

Happy Quinn: Our mechanical expert who is as tough as nails, with a personality of steel. Don’t let her do the emotional stuff a mission might require, you won’t get far.

Sylvester Dodd: Our Tech expert the man behind the chair, he may be physically weaker than the rest but his brain is no joke when it comes to cracking codes.

But of course we also have our supporters,

Cabe Gallo: The former Fbi agent who takes care of our back when were in potential physical harm. He's also the one who gives us government tasks which gives us a pay-check.

Paige Dineen:The literal mother of the group. and the emotional backbone to our otherwise logical group.

Ralph Dineen: Son of Paige and the youngest genius to grace the garage. Scorpion has taken him under our wing in order to give him the support none of us had when growing up.

And me, well I'm the sharpshooter, mastering in

long distance mathematical problems, and the lookout for the team whenever they go out on missions.

"Hmm? Another mission already huh? Well alright what do you need me to do? "Walter began towards the stairs," follow me, and Cabe come with, you'll give Thomas the play by play." Cabe grunted, and both of us followed Walter to the white board on the second level.

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Nothing beats basking in the sun expecially on a day like this where there is a bit of wind cooling the sweat that starts to firm on my brow. The sky is a dazzling, radient beacon of energy and warmth, I have to close my eyes in order to take it all in. It's all interrupted when my radio starts up.

"Thomas we need an exit." Walter's voice comes

through, and I'm reluctant to focus on anything other than the rays of the sun, so I fumble for the radio with one arm, the other covering my face.

"Roger, looks like there's a window on each floor of this building your in, pick one and jump!"

"Thomas, Tobias is being questioned by security, they haven't spotted me yet, but it's a matter of time before they catch on that we're not supposed to be here, distract them."

With a sigh I roll on to my stomach and start fiddling with the scope of my rifle. Spotting Tobias in a window on the far right I also see that

three more security agents are making their way over. "Three more on your way Walter, I'm going to have to make a little noise." I find a fire alarm that doesn't have anybody near and set up my shot, but then I'm forceably rolled over and a rag is shoved into my face, while my arms are restrained by my side. I'm fighting to get out of this stranger's grasp, but my breath gets heavy which causes me to inhale what ever chemical they put on this damn rag. My vision starts to blur, but before I pass out I make out the static of the radio as one of the men apart of this attack picks it up appearing to speak to Walter on the other side. Walter, and Tobias are now by themselves about to be captured, and there is nothing I can do to help them or myself. That's my last thought as my world goes dark.

[nickvitti]

Nicholas Vitti- Blog 2- The Babadook

The Babadook which was an Australian horror movie that came out in 2014 is a wildly popular horror movie for the Ausies, Americans, and other nationalities. It is a story about a mother and son, Emelia and Samuel. Both of which are great and adventurous people who sadly wound up in the sight of a demon monster which is the Babadook. The Babadook is a creature that stays within their minds for the most part throughout the movie, possessing their minds into them going crazier and crazier. The monster starts to dictate their every move and decision making, and once they thought it was gone forever it was soon to be a hoax as “you can’t get rid of the Babadook”. 

The Babadook film, which was based off of a book dictates the life of a lonely widow who only has her son and a couple other people. It showcases the need for family and a healthy string relationship. Throughout the film there are many chances that Samuel and his mom had turned on eachother. However, nothing string enough to break their promise to eachother that they would protect eachother throughout it all. No matter what was happening at certain points in the film they each knew that if one of them got possessed and started seizing acting as the Babadook, that the other one needed to remain patient and help. This was true when Samuel had a seizure in the car and in the end of the movie when Emelia was possessed trying to kill her own son. 

At that point, Samuel relied on his amazing magic skills which he obsessed about through the whole movie. He was seen as siddferent from others because he dud not have the same ideas and childhood as some others and also not having any father figure. He displayed fatherlike traits as he used his magic skills to trap his mother (the demon, Babadook) which ultimately led to the evil spitit that was living inside of her to vanish so that they could go back to their normal lives. 

The overall lesson that the film offers is that issues such as depression and no sense of normalcy need to start to be accepted rather than just trying to brush off hard moments. Another lesson I took away is that you do not need many people, you need one person to lookout for you when you are at your lowest and that is what we saw as they both relied on eachother throughout it all. 

Some cinematic experiences throughout the movie that needed to be noted would be the original sound of the Babadook. The “Ba-Ba, Dook, Dook, Dook”, this provided a sense of suspense as when we heard those words we knew what was about to happen. The lighting of the movie is very dark, almost hard to see in some points and I think that is because the Babadook throughout the movie was never fully visually seen, only in the shadows. 

Overall, I enjoyed this movie a lot and I would put it near the top of my favorite horror films. I like how it was done on a small simple budget but still maintained realistic horror and suspense. I like that it did not have to rely on jumpscares for example and could be carried from the suspense aspect of horror.

Original Review-

Scholar Source-

My Favorite Scene- Why can't you be normal- Possession