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min-youngis · 4 years

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Are You Allowed To Tell God To Suck It?

gif not mine

~ Pairing : Kim Namjoon x Reader (Human x Angel)

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour-ish

~ Rating : PG-13

~ Summary/Excerpt : “I’m not leaving anytime soon,” you whisper, making sure he understands every single word, hears the sincerity in your voice, realises that you wouldn’t just send God a massive fuck you and give yourself a new name (that you found in one of the books in this very library, actually) on a whim.

Established Relationship

~ Word Count : 1,938

~ Warnings : passing mentions of insecurity and g*d and r×lig×on, some philosophical waxing about how fucking sad we all are but nothing too serious

~ A/N : this ... idk what it is. love the concept tho. would like to expand on it eventually. for now, here, be a badass angel that loves human joon. gives me a vague good omens kinda vibe.

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

‘Hey, uh, God? Yeah, this is Angel Number 7625H. Remember me? The one you didn’t allow back in for falling in love with the human I was supposed to reform? Well, I’m just sending this to say suck it and that I don’t want to come back anyway. While we’re at it, I'll be needing my stuff, so if you could have them tossed down whenever you’re free, that'd be great. I’m sure you know where I live, with your omniscience and all. Thanks and regards!

P.S. : I go by Y/N now. I like it better than a serial number.’

“Are you allowed to tell God to suck it?”

With a grin, you lick the stamp and slap it on the envelope addressed to ‘Up There'. “Well, first of all, it really is a toss-up between which form God ends up being in when they receive the letter.”

Namjoon gets that light in his eyes as he leans forward in his large, mahogany armchair, that brightness and eagerness that you’ve seen in children who get too excited, right before they pee in their pants. “Tell me about their forms.”

You indulge him. You always do. None of your other subjects were this intrigued or this intriguing. But then, none of your other subjects were Kim Namjoon.

“They constantly shift. One moment as Shakti, another as Jehovah. There are millions, if not billions of shapes.”

“Have you ever seen them? God, I mean?”

No, you had not. But no harm in hyping yourself up.

“Once,” you say, gravitas in your voice as you drop the sealed envelope on the table. “Accidentally transported myself too far to the left after one of my missions and ended up in the inner quarters.”

Satisfyingly awed, Namjoon asks, now at the edge of his seat, “What form were they in?”

“Couldn’t tell,” you shrug, leaning back in your chair, arms comfortably slung on the rests.

He seems satisfied with the evasive answer. It only serves to make him think more.

It’s like this. Eight months ago, you were sent down on a routine mission. There is a person who is an asshole, make him not-an-asshole. Except, well, the asshole wasn’t really that much of an asshole. Just...kinda sad and maybe an unhealthily high blood pressure. Bit of an entitled dick, but not unkind. He wasn’t one of those intrinsically distant people. Just circumstantially. But you had a job and you were going to do it, goddammit.

So in your barista disguise, you had begun your reformation of one, 28 year old, Kim Namjoon, big shot CEO of Kim Enterprises. Ivy League graduate, trust fund baby, featured in Forbes' Richest Under 30. Cold to people who don’t know him, lukewarm to people who do.

The instant you saw him on the first morning on the job, not looking up at you as he placed his order in a high, cold drawl, eyes focused on the phone in his hand, bluetooth headset on, complete with an expensive wristwatch and a black briefcase, you knew the problem. Angels have that kind of power.

He was entirely too repressed. Humans were not made to lock things up, to be reserved with shields as high as the sky extending ten feet in every direction.

So you slowly began to get under his skin. A little by little, making him let out everything he had kept sealed in short bursts, like a pressure cooker with a defective weight. Few times a week, you’d purposely mess up his order, adding some extra sugar or taking it easy on the caffeine. Once a month or so, you’d nudge the paper cup while handing it to him over the counter so the coffee would spill on his fingers. When you weren’t messing up his morning for him, you’d slink out of the shop, following him to his office, hit the elevator buttons on every floor so it would take longer to reach him or dress up as an employee and purposely bump into him in the corridors. And obviously, you weren’t scared of getting caught.

If there’s one thing you’ve learnt in your career as a Reformation Angel, it’s that humans are shockingly unobservant. But then again, you hadn’t encountered a human like Kim Namjoon before.

You hadn’t been bothered about him figuring out what you were, realising that he was being deliberately poked and prodded so that those tight shoulders of his could finally begin to droop once in a while.

And for the first four months, everything seemed to be going according to plan. He had scowled a bit, shouted some, ranted at a closed lift door. But more importantly, and as more of an upside, you had also caught him smiling at his phone once, some lovely dimples appearing, and when you were mixing up his schedule after convincing his assistant to take a break, you had seen that he had even marked a weekend as Vacation – talk to Yoongi.

But then, small problems began to crop up. For one, he started to spend more time around the coffee shop. Which you were glad about, at first, because it signified that he was slowing down, but it made you antsy because you kept catching him staring at you with a shrewd look on his face. He'd look away immediately, but you still knew.

For another, he stopped spending so much time inside his office, often taking to walking around, looking for something, for somebody. It hadn’t bothered you much. In fact, it only served as an opportunity for you to sneak in and jumble the papers on his desk. But the more time passed, the more convinced you became that he was looking for you.

And then was the slightly worrying issue of how you began to take more than a purely angelic interest in him. Of course, you never recorded in your observations how your immortal heart would beat a tiny bit faster when he began to actually thank you after receiving his coffee, dimples popping in a small smile. Or how occasionally, you’d maybe spend a little more time everyday on the job, under the guise of ‘finishing ahead of schedule' just to be around him.

But you were an expert, so all those feelings were, ironically enough, locked up and compartmentalised, ready to be purged when you finally went back up after completing this job.

Until everything finally came to a head. You had been on your way to his office building, walking rapidly, winding in between the crowds so you could reach in time to mess up some of his cue cards before his meeting, when you were brought to an abrupt halt by the man himself, standing at the corner of the office, waiting, it seemed for you.

He had a gleam of new-found knowledge in his eyes, a just-elapsed eureka moment, and with a sinking heart, you had noticed a thick, leather-bound book in his hands.

Angels and Their Types : Do They Still Exist Today?

And now, here you are, leaning back on your own, cushioned armchair in Namjoon's large, crowded library, letter telling God that you’re officially retiring, whether they like it or not, as the dim, yellow lights indicate the lateness of the hour, tall bookshelves casting shadows on the little nook you’re both sat in.

“How are we going to send it?”

“I’ll be needing pepper, some chalk and nine lavender scented candles. Also a wooden floor.”

“What’s the pepper for?” he asks, once again excited at the prospect of knowledge.

“Garnish.”

His eyes narrow and he lets out a small huff, leaning back on his chair with a pout when he realises that you’re messing with him.

With a giggle, you rise from your seated position, rounding the coffee table and making your way towards him, bottoms of your feet sinking into the soft carpeting as you pad over.

“We have people in postal services everywhere,” you say soothingly as you perch yourself on the arm of his chair, body tilted towards him, legs languidly crossed and nudging against the side of his.

He forgets his petulance at this thrilling, new titbit of information, this glean into a world that he recently discovered and has been greedily learning about from you. “Are they angels as well? Do they have humans to reform? Can they travel to heaven whenever they want?”

In his rush, he tilts forward excitedly, arm coming up to steady you around your waist as he apologetically winces when he nearly knocks you off with his enthusiasm.

Give him a chance to gain some knowledge, and he really does become a child. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, so many possibilities waiting to come to a standstill at your response.

His wide eyes look up at you, waiting eagerly for your answer. You give him as stern a look as you can muster, despite the fondness in your eyes that you can’t quite mask as you reply, “Yes, they’re angels as well. Only some of them are Reformation Angels, we're rather rare, you see. And I don’t know why you'd ask the last question, even I can go up whenever I want to.”

“Didn’t they ban you last week?” he cheekily asks, eyes mirthful, words softened by his fingers gently dancing along the curve of your hip.

Frowning, you reply, “Okay, in theory I can go up whenever I want.”

“Do you think you’ll want to?”

You can see his shields slowly coming up, the carefreeness of the last hour being masked by that façade you had worked so had to ensure would make an appearance only in important board meetings. But you’re an angel. Even if he weren’t the reason you’re giving up an eternity in heaven, condemning yourself to staying in the middle place, you’d be able to tell what he’s feeling.

Humans are so very fickle. So insecure and scared and constantly preparing for everybody to leave.

You turn fully sideways so you’re facing him, looking down at his face as you tilt his chin up with a finger, forcing him to make eye contact with you. His palm, now at the small of your back, feels cold, only lightly resting, like he’s steeling himself to let you go. On his knee that you aren’t half sitting on, his fingers twitch nervously.

“I’m not leaving anytime soon,” you whisper, making sure he understands every single word, hears the sincerity in your voice, realises that you wouldn’t just send God a massive fuck you and give yourself a new name (that you found in one of the books in this very library, actually) on a whim.

His gaze that was hovering somewhere near your left ear snaps to your own as he regards you for a bit, indecision and childish hope swimming behind his cool, unbothered exterior. A few seconds later, he gives you a small, accepting nod. His only indication of pleasure is the subtle flex of his fingers as they rest more solidly on your back, nudging you close so he can burrow his head in the folds of your billowy dress.

You soothingly card a hand through his hair, acknowledging everything he isn’t saying. The seal on the letter glints in the light, catching your eye, vaguely shocking you as you realise that you’re about to sign yourself up for eternal damnation.

But the years have been long, and not entirely kind, and you have a reason to say goodbye. You’ve met hundreds of humans in your lifetime. But none of them have been Kim Namjoon.

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snow-wind-and-all-we-will-find · 3 years

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Hi! My names arthur and im working on improving my word and building my story, which currently has no name haha! I have a myriad of characters who ill try to list out and give brief descriptions of, aether is technically my main character and some of the characters who are up for question are dead in canon. But you can still ask them stuff, itll just be set before death.

When asking characters questions, rememeber to include the name, their age if theres diffrent ages, i dont mind repeated questions, but if you see the question try not to ask it again lol. If you cant find it with a quick scroll just ask it, although i dont know if this blog will even get that big.

Aether

He comes in three evolutions lol, technically, theres four but idk if i would count 7 year old aether.

Ages: 13 yo - colder, hasnt gotten used to emotions, there are two to this as well, pre-rev and then post-rev 13 yo aether, remember to specify lol.

16 yo- a bit more out there, still kinda disconnected and figuring things out, a bit more defensive

22 yo- lax, hes sorta figured shit out, hes not going to go grazy, hes just gonna be chill lol.

!The gaggle Ghosts!

Yurei

Her personality is very, ehhh, becuase i havnt done work with her, and i havnt completly figured out who she is fully yet, shes 18 yo when aether is 22 yo

18 yo- pretty oblivious, somehow still a bit cynical, very nice and sometimes motherly

Kakoku

Few thousand- mean, likes to bully yurei as he huants her, lowkey a simp for yurei but he wont admit that. Kinda cynical and likes to bring others down, generally a bully

Tamashi

19- emotionless, has to be a really strong emotion to make her emote, tends to stray away from other people, likes to be alone, blunt

Gunnar

A few thousand- sweet, warm and welcoming, tries to be very fatherly and a trusted figure, is very busy most of the tiime unfortunatly though.

!The greek gang!

Argus agapov

16- unstable, pretty baby, protective over friends and family

Mythos agapov

23- whore. He also loves his family, lowkey, hes a trad wife

Perceus

15/16- timid, intrested in posiosn and acids, generally quiet, likes to eat leaves, scaredy cat

Diogenes

14- germ of phobe, kind of a brat, more just a bitch, will yell at you if he sees your hands were dirty from gardening or something while you’re walking to the sink, other than that hes fine, picky eater

Herodotus

15- disorginized, trys his best, likes to write stuff down, helps plato with his writing and grammar in general, gullible, likes record data, has a nice typewriter with tha good clicky clack

Plato

8- sweet baby boi, loves his older brother (socrates), idolizes him even, not a good idea though. He writes down everything socrates does, sometimes he imitates his brother as well.

Socrates

17- dumb of ass, also just dumb, held back a grade, feral child, bites alot of people, soft aestechic but hed stab as a warning

Heracles

30- also dumb of ass, loves cars in that ‘mah babeh’ kinda way. Hates motorcycles, he thinks they’re ugly. Chaotic but he utilizes it to be the weird and cool uncle/cousin thing

Zeus

46- too tired for this shit, is a dad, went out to get milk, jk jk, dissapeared for a hot few years, probably got captured by some gang dunno, it happens. Very serious, would make the dumbest jokes with his brothers with a straight face

Hades

50- lowkey the neglected middle child, soft goth lookin ass, loves his kid, tries his best to raise his kid, sometimes gets help from esme

Poseidon

57- proud stay at home dad, buff but does the typically wifely duties, makes sure his children get enough love, nutrience and care

Lillith

54- very active, the money maker, kinda soft, both her and her husband poseidon are so just in love with their kids, dote on them constantly, very extroverted, always makes time for her kids

Esme

51- tired of zeus’ shit, does her best to make sure no one dies, still treats mythos as her ‘little baby boy, tired mom vibes.

!the Eden gang!

Eden is a fictional country that i slapped onto the globe. It is where aether is from, technically aether is apart of the eden gang as well. Everyone here, if they have an age option, the first age option is the age they are when aether is 13, and the second will be when aether is 16 unless stated otherwise

General kyelli

49- fatherly, thinks of most of the gang as his children, calls everyone ‘son’, as a general rule. If you ask for another nickname, he will do his best. Has a bad knee, and is kinda of bad at existing physically

52+- fatherly still, loves almonds, always has a bag of almonds, dont test him. Enjoys travel, might adopt people he meets along the way, still has pains but now he sees doctors, wants to stay active

Indigo

13- sweet, optimistic, always looks on the brightside and tries to see the good in others. Little heater, understands that sometimes fighting is the only option

Akrano

16- lively, very loose and relax, can get serious when needed though, always making jokes and trying to lighten up the mood

19- a bit more, mellow. Still quite lively and childish, but with two signifigant-others you have to settle down sometimes

Ekrano

16- lively, more stern than akrano and kinda worried, but ultimatly also very loose and bright

Lilliana

16- serious, seemingly colder towards everyone, gets along great with psycho-lops, makes him new eye-patches to pass time, actually just very monotone and blank most of the time, although she does care

19- she doesnt change much, she got a bit more expressive, likes babysitting howl

Psycho-lops

16 1/2- always looks determined, actually kinda scared of conflict, likes to help out with healing though, very proficient in it as well, sounds intimidating while talking about how cute puppies and kittens are

19/20- still the same, is considering studying medicine and medical practices to become a doctor.

Bark

17- bright, incredibly lively, loves to joke around and tease and sometimes bully the others, targets aether primarily, hangs out with his brother most of the time, he can fight for himself but he likes the backup, especcially since he is kinda glass-jawed, being that hes a twig

Bite

17- quiet, intense eyes, always sounds vaugly confused when he speaks, deep voice lol, likes to train, doesnt understand barks need to tease others, likes to read to the children

20- quiet, intense eyes still, more so nervous sounding, slightly paranoid, cluastrophobic and cant stand dusty places, usually in his house or at the docks, doesnt really go anywhere else

Hanelle

17- loud, headstrong, adamant about her opinions, gets along well with bark, she tries alot to be intimidating, not a twig, but not very big, pretty friendly and sociable

!the band of pirates!

Aklea

A few hundreds of years- kinda bored seeming, loves blood, technically cannibal, but not really since he isnt human, to an extent. Despite being fine on the ocean, he gets very car sick very easily. Actually quite nice, very easily triggerd into violence, especcially by something that could be used as a good murder weapon, blood makes him jittery and more lively

Nerone

21- calm, too calm, deals with akleas bullshit wonerfully, he just stands there, blank smile on his face as aklea beats the shit outta someone, unintrested in most anything, likes to draw, but hes a much better pastry chef.

!the shakespears!

Midem(pink boi)

33- lively, loves to work with kids, very creative, likes to make things, mainly art, mainly carvings. Often make little minitures of scenes from midens writing, loves his twin, does anything it takes to fund midens intrests. Very loving to those hes close to

Miden

33- calmer by alot lmao, pretty introverted but he can hold a long conversation without becoming too drained, enjoys writing and making stories, also makes plays for fun, runs off little sleep cuase he stays up so late to write, and gets up early to write.

!gods!

Gideon

9 billion- confused boomer, loves his ‘children’, hates to be hated, always tries to help in anyway he can, despite making them, always curious into what mortals are doing, loves the universe he created and does anything he can to protect it

Merik

7 million- sore loser, does get a little salty, ultimatly bounces back and becomes a very good sport, always will adopt tactics, whatever it takes to win within the rules, keeps most all of his trophies from random feats hes done

Ventus

5 billion - calm, straightforward, tends to disregard others and do things himself, likes to sit on cliffs and watch the ocean

Kyle

Hes been around since 776 bc- very loud, lively, bright, tries his best to educate people on proper form, workout regime i intesne, doesnt allow others to take it, makes custom workout regimes for free, owns a gym, dude bro but hes nice, baby

Horo-sha

Her age technicaly is not accurate, shes like, 2 billion? Since dima was made right after her death. But since her history still lives, ima count it

5 billion but older than ventus- bitter, violent, former god of justice, fucking dead haha, hates mortals, primarily humans

Dima

Also not super accurate, hed only be a few centuries of being an active god before being sealed, but since hes technically, concious and has cognitive function hes counted

3 billion- mean lol, likes blood and gets even more violent when it starts getting messy, ‘new’ god of justice, uh, pretty bad at it like the last one, but worse, will kill over slight misdeameanors, everythings a crime smh

!misc!

Ivan

24- softspoken, from imperial russia, died young, he no longer feels his face is his own, has a mask that he likes better, has the sickness, but since he was human it killed him, can control it post mortem, is strong enough to be seen, but weak enough he can go invisible and go through solid objects.

More ocs will be added when i remember them, or create new ones, characters i dont really have built at all are not included

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yoongi-sugaglider · 4 years

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Forget Me Nots

A wealthy young man falls overboard while vacationing with friends only to find himself with amnesia and a pretty young wife who seems determined to remind him what hard work and dedication really mean.

Warnings: Strong language, angry Min Yoongi inaccurately portrayed based upon the writer’s imagination,angst, eventual super fluff.

Pairing: Eventual Min Yoongi x reader

Word count:2089

A/n: Ah! So~ I finally got my thoughts back together on this bad boy lol. That being said yes she’s back in rotation! This chapter is a bit flillerish? In terms of I had to push through it to work some things out but beyond this we’re back in it!! Enjoy!!

<<Chapter Eight---Chapter Ten>>

She wasn't sure at what point during the three days since Yoongi had been discharged from the hospital that she'd started falling in serious like with him. But it was certainly entirely his fault.

He was quiet, shy and reserved in a way she hadn't expected of the man who'd literally almost cost her her job the first day they'd met. The trepidation in his hidden smiles would sometimes evaporate so quickly when something brought him joy, causing his entire being to light up with laughter as he struggled to stay upright in his mirth.

The way he cared for her, quietly looking out for her in ways even she didn't anticipate had her second guessing her early misgivings on having him around to invade her solitude.

She'd gone back to work that day, after ensuring he had plenty to keep him occupied while she was out. Though, to her credit she hadn't anticipated the sheer amount of exhaustion that would weigh her down once she got home. Her shoulders sagged as she walked through the front door, eyes downcast as she kicked off her shoes to the side of the entrance before trudging her way towards the interior of her home.

The smell of food had greeted her, along with the endlessly bounding affections of her two dogs as she wandered up to the kitchen only to spot a floral print apron wrapped Yoongi working hard at the stove to provide whatever meal he'd cooked up in order to appease the ravenous hunger that suddenly gripped her stomach at the sight.

"I...hey?"

Yoongi turned, lips twitching up into the barest hint of a smile as he took in the sorry state of the woman of the house.

"Hi there angel, long day I take it?"

She huffed, purse dropping to the counter as she edged her way over to try and spot what he'd been slaving away at.

"I got stuck with Selena’s shift again. Apparently she found herself bedridden again and managed to skimp out on cleaning one of the schooners that got rented out again." She clicked her tongue, shaking her head at the silent chuckle that shook Yoongi's shoulders.

"You didn't have to cook though? I thought you were…"

"Supposed to take it easy." He gave her a sideways glance as he stirred the mysteriously bubbling liquid within the massive pot. "Yeah, but I got bored and well...I weeded the back garden at about noon...spent some time fixing some holes and dents in the hallway walls and by the time 6 rolled around I realized you'd be coming home pretty late so I thought I'd fix up a stew."

He shrugged, casting it off as no big deal while nudging her in the side with his hip.

"Why don't you go grab a hot shower? By the time you're clean and refreshed dinner will be done and you can take all the time you want complaining about Selena."

She smiled, finding the sound of a shower far more appealing than trying to convince Yoongi to take it easy.

The shower took her far longer than she’d expected, finding herself relaxing into the contented heat of the ever flowing water for nearly a good 45 minutes before realising that dinner would be done and Yoongi would be waiting for her.

Ever so hastily she ended her shower, tugging on the comfiest and most modest night wear that she could find before sneaking down the hall and into the kitchen.

Sure enough Yoongi sat at the table, patiently waiting for her with that soft smile on his face as he watched the dogs play tug of war with a rope in the livingroom.

“Much needed shower I take it?” He whispered, startling her with a squeak as he slowly turned to look in her direction.

“Ah, y...yeah. Sorry it took so long. I guess I didn’t realize how stressed I was until I got in there.”

He tilted his head, watching her as she made her way over to the table and softly inhaled the scent of the stew steaming in her bowl.

“Oh my, that smells like actual heaven.” She sighed, taking her seat and practically drooling into the bowl.

“Well, dig in. It’s not gonna make its own way to your stomach, unless you have some kind of secret psychic mind powers I should know about.”

The snort that choked its way out of her throat was very much unladylike as she glanced up to stare at Yoongi’s self satisfied face. He seemed plenty pleased with himself at his own joke as he spooned a bit of broth into his mouth before glancing up at her through heavily lidded lashes.

“Well?”

“What?! No! I don’t have psychic powers thank you very much!” Picking up her spoon she dug in to the meal, very nearly groaning out loud at the explosion of flavor that hit her tongue like a freight train.

“Jesus Yoongi, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a professional chef in a past life or something!”

“Is it good?” He asked shyly, all the while his eyes were focused on his own meal, though she could tell he was hanging onto her every word.

“Well duh! I mean, yeah...it’s amazing.”

They continued on in silence, exchanging quiet noises of satisfaction as their bellies slowly filled with the warm comfort of the meal Yoongi had painstakingly made.

“So uh…”

She glanced up, eyes questioning as Yoongi cleared his throat before meeting her gaze with a questioning one of her own.

“You mentioned a Selene giving you trouble at work?”

“Oh god yes.” She groaned, leaning back in her chair and rolling her eyes. “That woman I swear. She goes out and parties all night and then the next morning, despite her duties, has the freaking audacity to call in sick to work, even though everyone knows she’s just hung over. I mean seriously? How long am I expected to pick up her slack? She’s not even nice to me when she manages to come to work.”

Shaking her head in frustration she picked up her spoon again and glared down at her bowl. “All she ever does is flirt with trust fund babies and mess around with literally any guy that happens to look hot or loaded. It’s a disgrace really and it makes me sick that Troy just lets her get away with it.”

“Troy?”

She flinched, realizing she’d been rambling. “Oh, uh yeah. My boss. I work for a yacht rental company. Basically I get the glamourous job of cleaning up after people when they rent out the yachts, on top of like, setting up for parties and making sure the fancy rich people have everything they need before they set out on their little mini cruise getaways.”

“Hmm…” His tone wasn’t really dismissive, more of an, oh okay kind of vibe.

Despite that she felt herself blushing, though she wasn’t sure if it was for the sheer amount of word vomit she’d just spewed, or from fear that he might have judged her for her occupation. It wasn’t the first time he had after all, though, that had been before he found himself in his current state.

Pushing away from the table she grabbed their now empty bowls and silverware, mumbling something along the lines of how she was going to clean up before darting quickly to the kitchen sink before she continued on.

Shoving the tap on she waited patiently for the water to heat up, not realizing that Yoongi had followed her and was now standing just behind her. Her foot tapped out a random rhythm on the floor as she watched suds fill the sink.

“So...I was wondering…”

She squeaked, spinning in place and clutching at her chest as her heart threatened to escape its confides in her ribcage.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Yoongi held his hands up as if showing her he wasn’t a threat.

“No no, it’s okay. I just didn’t hear you walk over.”

He smiled sheepishly, tugging nervously at his earlobe before clearing his throat. For a moment she got lost in his mannerisms, smiling softly to herself at the nervous fidgeting of his hands.

“Well, I was just wondering. You mentioned having a job and well. Did I have one? I mean...surely I did right?”

***

“Well???What did you tell him?” Rose leaned in close, stage whispering despite the fact that the cafe her, Devani, and y/n sat in was in fact devoid of other customers.

“Ugh, I don’t know. I think something about how he was in between jobs or some shit.” Y/n leaned back in her seat, fanning herself in frustration as Devani snorted into her drink.

“Real smooth there girl. And you’re telling me he bought that?” Dev shook her head, placing the cup back in it’s saucer and glaring her best friend down.

“I mean..he may or may not have believed it. I couldn’t really tell. The dude has the poker face of a pro.”

“So have you slept with him yet?” Rose interrupted, leaning in even further.

The poor woman sputtered, having just taken a sip of steaming hot coffee, which now happened to have sprayed all over poor Devani.

“I beg your pardon???”

“Consider my pardon begged, now. Did you sleep with him or not?” Rose smirked, her eyes glinting with a mischievous humor that her friends had become used to over the years.

“I’ll have you know I have far more dignity than that. I mean he’s basically a stranger!”

“Dude, you literally have one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life living under your roof under the notion that he’s married to you. Any red blooded woman would have at least gotten some by now.”

Y/n frowned, shaking her head at the brazen woman.

“Rose, enough. Stop harassing y/n. And y/n? No slut shaming Rose.” Devani sighed, placing her cup back on the table. “I swear if I didn’t know any better I was the actual adult on this friendship circle.”

Rose groaned, leaning across the table to pat poor Devani’s hand. “Our poor precious maknae. She’d had to raise the two of us on her own all these years.”

Y/n sniffed, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. “I’m just so proud of her maturity.”

The three women giggled, continuing on with their conversation until the oldest of them sighed forlornly.

“Guys I really don’t know about this job thing. I mean the way he looked when he talked about it I don’t think he’s going to let it go as easily as I wanna hope.”

Rose hummed, absentmindedly tossing tiny bits of torn up napkin onto her plate as she stared off into the distance.

“What if I gave him a job in the kitchen at my restaurant?”

Y/n’s head jerked up and her eyes went wide at the prospect. She didn’t want to get her hopes up but the idea sounded good. “Wait, but what if he can’t handle it?”

Rose shook her head with a smile, reaching across the table to pat her friend’s hand. “So I give him a dish washing spot during our slow hours. It’ll be quick and easy and I’ll be able to keep an eye on him in case anything happens to him health wise.”

“I’ll help too!” Devani chirped up. She worked part time as a hostess at the same restaurant.

“I...I don’t know guys…”

Rose clicked her tongue, her reassuring pats turning slightly more aggressive. “Y/n, I own the place. Nobody’s gonna question the boss. You’re only a phone call away if anything happens and at the end of the week his buddies can come back and collect him, no harm done.”

“You might even get a cut of some cash for gratitude.” Devani smirked, a conspiratorial glint to her eyes.

“Dev doesn’t mean that and you know it.” Rose reassured at the moment of panic that flitted across y/n’s face.

“Yeah, I know. I mean it would be nice to get the money to replace the vacuum that got wrecked but...honestly at the end of the day I just want him to be okay…”

“We know love. Don’t worry, we’ve got your back okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile at her friends, hoping against hope that this would work and that things would turn out okay.

***

#bts boulangerie #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts min yoongi #bangtan suga #suga #amnesia au #bts yoongi amnesia au #yoongi imagine #bts angst #bts fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts x reader insert #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction

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rosierocks30 · 3 years

Text

Hidden: Ch.16

Chapter 16: Deception

(Historia)

It’s been three weeks since Levi tried to take her away from this hell. The only companion she felt safe was with Ymir who somehow was in her subconscious. Historia doesn’t know how it happened, but it helped her get through being Nathaniel’s obedient queen. The blonde woman had started to come out of her chamber to roam some areas of the palace or go to the beautiful gardens whenever she was tired being in her chamber.

Today, the sun has shined on the west wing side of the garden. It’s one of her favorite gardens from all of them here. This garden has so many wildflowers and ponds with bridges and benches to enjoy. The geese and ducks gathered to swim in the ponds. There are also few swans which she doesn’t know how Nathaniel could afford them, especially the nation has very high national debts it needed to be paid.

Historia was wearing a light pink dress made of silk with white and red roses as patterns. Her hat was light pink with a big white flower to match. The pearls around her neck were a gift from her “husband”. She hated these pearls and anything, Nathaniel had given her, but Ymir was right. She needed to play her part until it’s the right time to escape. Don’t expect anyone to save you if you want to be saved. So do it for yourself.

Her blue eyes stared down at a pretty powder blue book made of leather with golden letters for the title. This book was not a storytelling book. It was a dairy; her mother’s dairy. Historia found this book in one of the old studyroom of this palace. Turns out it was her grandfather’s; then it was passed on her uncle then Frieda’s. Probably her older sister found it and hid it somewhere in that room so no one finds it. At first, the queen was reluctant to open the book to read it. Humph. Why should she care about her mother’s life before she existed? She was aware how much her own mother despised her.

The young queen began to open the dairy and started to read the first page. Her mother was around a couple years younger than her when her father’s wife hired her as a maid. For the first several pages, all it mentioned was how excited she was to work at the palace. The way she had described inside the palace was familiar how the palace is now. To Historia, her mother was a teenager with dreams of wanting to be part of the upper class’s life. While the queen was reading more into the diary, one of her ladies-in-waiting spoke to get her attention.

“Your Majesty, the King is waiting for you to have lunch with him at the garden on the east wing.” The lady said. Historia laid the diary on her lap to nod.

“Very well.” She sighed then gripped the book as the royal woman got up then started to walk to where Nathaniel was.

By the time she and her ladies reached to the east wing of the palace, Historia entered the garden where Nathaniel was already sitting sipping wine. The servants was serving lunch when the queen spotted them.

“Ah, my dearest. I’m pleased you’re here to join me for lunch.” Nathaniel glanced up to see his wife coming towards him.

Historia had her expression neutral as she went to sit on the empty chair. The table was small and made of marble with glass on top of the surface. She glanced down at the dish being served. Historia gave the servant a small smile to show her appreciation of their dedication to making it look delicious.

“I was feeling hungry so I decided to come to eat.” She said. One of the servants served wine to her. At first, she was going to reject, but the queen had remembered Nathaniel is here. To get through their lunches, Historia will need something strong to endure this date.

“It’s good that your appetite has returned. I assume you are getting better from your foolish attempt to escape from a few weeks ago.” He stared at her waiting to see how she would react.

Of course, Historia wanted to grab the knife in front of her to stab him into his eyes. Her rage was rising up but a familiar voice kept her at bay.

Hey chill, remember play the goody good Krista in order to gain his trust then strike him.

Ymir said in her mind which thank the walls Historia was trying to calm herself down. The blonde queen finally stared into his eyes and gave him a smile. This smile was not one of her sweet warm ones.

“Yes, I had time to think about my actions, husband. For that, I hope you will forgive me. I will do better and remember my place as your queen and beloved wife.” Historia said.

The blue eyed queen noticed the way Nathaniel gloated at her admitting mistakes. She wanted to throw her wine at him for being an arrogant gullible asshole. Historia slowly sips her wine.

“This makes me happy to hear.” he smirked. “So, tell me how was your morning? I’m sure you were busy with many duties to manage order in the palace.”

“It has been a busy morning. I noticed you want to do a charity event ball? May I ask what kind of charity is it, my king?” The way she spoke made her want to gag. It just feels so forced when she said, her king.

She remembered during her mid pregnancy, Historia had considered to give Levi a title. He rejected that offer so many times, but Historia was stubborn not to give up in convincing him to accept it.

(Flashback)

“Levi, I know you don’t like it but can you-” She was interrupted by her husband.

“No.” He said bluntly.

She pouted. “My love, you don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Whatever it is. The answer is no.” He said stubbornly.

“Humph. You should have a title.” Historia finished her sentence which Levi raised his brow.

“You know I don’t care about titles.” His beautiful silver eyes with a hint of blue looked into her.

“I know, but when that day comes of our marriage and the baby being publicized; the council will make you take a title by their choice. I just brought it up because I want you to pick your own title and not let anyone choose it for you.” She said with concern.

Levi still stared at her but it softened. He understood what she was trying to say. He leaned to kiss gently on her lips. Oh how she loved his sweet soft lips. His walls dropped from time to time to get where they are now. Levi was not afraid to be soft and gentle with his wife. To Historia, this was happiness. Seeing the man she loves, being his true self around her. There was no mask or anything to separate between him and her. His thumb caressing her soft pink cheek with affectionate.

“How about the Queen’s heart?” He mumbled.

Historia grinned when she saw a light blush on his face. “Oh is that a blush I see?” She teased him.

“Tch, brat.” He said while Historia laid her head on his chest with a victory grin in making the Captain Levi Ackerman blushed.

(End Flashback)

Historia was trying not to smile so Nathaniel won’t suspect her why she was smiling. Nathaniel took a bite out of a piece of cut fruit.

“It’s a charity to raise money for security to make sure other nations will think twice in attacking us.” He said.

“Basically, funding the military?” Historia raised her brow in confusion.

Nathaniel placed his eating utensils on the plate. “Yes, but not the ones we used to have. I disband them all to recruit a new army to obey their king. The three regiments had ruled this nation far too long. It’s time for the monarchs like us to retake our divine rights.”

“I see. Why didn’t you just convert the military’s power to yours instead of disbanding them. We’re on the brink of war with Marley.” She doesn’t know if Nathaniel realized they need their soldiers more than ever which concerned her.

“I don’t trust them. Don’t worry. Marley is too busy with their own issues. Beside, we have the templar’s support to protect us until our new military is ready.” Nathaniel was so sure of his decisions.

Historia sighed. When she was in power, at least the late Premier Zackely let her have some power in order to help the common people. As long as she doesn’t interfered very delicate decisions. A part of her wanted to have all the power as a ruler should have so she won’t be limited to help others and make life a bit easier for the common people. In her perspective, they are the driving force of the economy.

Historia stayed quiet as her lips pressed on the rim of her wine glass slowly sipping. The templars were nothing but greedy hypocrites. She wonders if there are prisoners in the dungeon. The queen will make plans to ditch her ladies in waiting to investigate on her own later.

“If you think this is the best; then nothing can’t go wrong right?” She finally said something. Of course, her words were full of bullshit, but Nathaniel is a gullible man. His ego is too big; it’s suffocating.

What wonders her the most is that grandmaster. He gives off a cunning backstabbing vibe. She preferred to have Nathaniel in power than a man like Alexander Di Lorenzo. She feels something bad will happen and Historia gotta make an efficient plan to save her people and her loved ones.

“Of course it does. By the way tonight, I won’t be visiting. Probably not for a few days.” He said. The queen was relieved about this. She doesn’t know if there will be another night of repulsiveness of having him do things only her true husband can make her feel loved and passionate. A faded smirk spread on her lip. She will use those days to explore unwanted areas.

(Levi)

He doesn’t know how long he was a prisoner. It’s felt like years for him. Levi was back at the animus to finish the life of his ancestor, Arne Ackerman. The captain waited for the male version of Shitty Glasses to turn on the machine. He took a deep breath as the glass-like hover over his eye view. Levi closed his eyes as the machine made it’s countdown then everything went black again.

Eldia Empire, 1555

Arne Ackerman was busy helping his father setting the plots of crops on their 10 acres of land. They are almost done as winter solstice will arrive in several months. Arne had grown through the years being raised by two loving parents. Throughout his growing years, Arne had wondered why he never took after neither of his parents in looks or anything. Both of them had lighter hair colors with grays of strands coming out.

He looked at his father to notice his nose was different than his along his mother’s too. At first, he was curious until one day in the village; Arne was on an errand to buy some minerals for the soils. There were some whispers from old crones near him. They were looking at him as they whispered to each other. Arne rolled his eyes in annoyance. Those old crones are nothing but gossipers. As he paid the man for the special soils, he heard what the gossips were about.

��Oh my, Hilda’s and Birger’s kid has grown into a fine handsome man. Many village girls gossips how strong and handsome he looks.” the first crone said.

“Pfft, my granddaughter and her silly friends, that's all they talk about. It gets tiring to hear them squeal.” The second crone scoffed.

“I’m surprised Hilda was about to have a child; I thought she was barren. The gods had blessed her a fine strong son.” The third crone said.

“That poor boy is not their blooded child. Hilda is barren. Always has been. They both found him at the slave market and bought him because Hilda couldn’t bear seeing a babe being alone and a slave. So, it’s a win-win for the Ackermans and Arne.” the second crone said.

Arne couldn’t believe what he had just heard. His parents aren’t his actual parents? He was a slave. An infant slave when they bought him. The young man doesn’t know whether to be angry at. The main question was who his real parents were. Where are they? Are they alive? Did they sell him? These questions were becoming overwhelming for him.

He didn’t realize his hand was gripping on the edge of the wooden countertop of a stand. His breath was gasping for air while Arne was holding it. His parents had never bothered to tell him of his origin? Maybe there was a reason.

The dark haired man began to walk away. He was distracted with what the old crones were saying that Arne didn’t realize he bumped into someone else which they both fell on the ground. Arne opened his eyes to see a girl around his age with strawberry blonde hair. When her eyes opened, he could see they were blue like the deep ocean.

“I’m sorry for not seeing where I am going…” Arne observed the girl to notice she has a teal colored dress with golden embroidery patterns. Her cloak was royal blue. The way she dressed; this girl is a daughter or some high lord or a princess.

The girl glanced at him then blushed from realizing she’s still on top of him. “Oh dear, I think I should be the one apologizing to you, sir.” The strawberry girl gets up to dust off the dirt on her dress.

“No my lady, I should have been the one to apologize.” He gets up after she does.

“Good sir, I insist. Take my apology.” Her tone was becoming firm.

Arne sighed. This woman is a stubborn one. He gave in. “Very well my lady. I accept your apology, but I’m no knight to be called such an honorable title.”

The high born woman snorted. “Oh please, a man of your status has more what it takes to be a knight than the ones at the castle.”

The woman glanced properly at Arne to notice his exotic features. “Are you from around here?” She asked curiosity.

“Yes, I am. I should be asking you the same thing.” He said.

“I am afraid not. Let’s just say I escape from the chamber of the castle of my betrothed. Honestly, who wants to marry into that Fritz clan. They may be the ruling clan, but they are mad with their god-like persona.” The noble woman said with a cynical tone.

“My lady, it’s bad luck to speak ill of the royal family. The goddess Ymir and the gods blessed the House of Fritz as our rulers.” Arne was worried for the woman who could have angered the gods for her insults at the royal family.

“Ymir? She’s no goddess; just a woman who was granted with the power of the Titan. A blessing and a curse. We, Eldian, are cursed for many generations until some fool decides to play god to break this curse.” This woman was peculiar. She was bold to speak her mind.

Arne couldn’t tell if this woman was completely mad or just knowledgeable. He barely knows how to read and do some counting. His mother was once a servant maiden at the palace during her youth before meeting his father, a simple farmer. She has given the best education she can give. For someone like him, he was educated compared to other farmers’ kids who received no education at all. In a way, he was lucky.

“Has the gods and the goddess pissed you off?” He asked.

“In a way, yes. I’m not ready for marriage. I always wanted to explore and learn so many places from the other side of the world. Did you know? There are some female rulers like Mary I of England. I have always wanted to visit Europe. I know I’m not meant to be some prince’s bride or anyone else’s. I was supposed to be the next clan leader, but my cousin took over and offered the king a bride to his heir. The nerve of him.” She stomped her foot on the dirt in frustration.

Arne doesn’t know why this woman decided to tell him this. A simple apology was all it took for them to go their separate ways. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said awkwardly.

The noblewoman noticed how awkward he sounded by her rant. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to lay my burdens on you. By the way, how rude of me for not introducing myself. I’m Lady Ingrid of the Völsung clan. What’s yours, good sir?”

“I’m Arne Ackerman, son of two humble farmers, Birger and Hilda Ackerman, mi’ lady.” He said. Ingrid stared at him curiously.

“For a son of a farmer, you are educated from the way you speak.” She said.

“Yes, my mother Hilda used to work at Fritz's castle when she was a young girl until she met my father. You can say, I’m lucky I was taught the way to speak to nobles and the royal family if I encounter them. Besides, I like learning whenever I have time; I read from the books I borrowed from this village’s bookshop.” Arne’s tone became passionate whenever he mentioned learning or books. His parents praised him for his intelligence. At one point, his mother tried to convince his father to send him to a pedagogue to properly educate him so he can advance his life comfortably. Birger didn’t want to send his son away. Who will maintain this land if Birger Ackerman died? By the law of the Eldia Empire; it’s Arne as the sole living child of the Ackermans.

Arne was determined to keep the family farm alive with his parents. He was grateful that his father at least allowed him to self-taught whenever he made time. He can understand why his mother was insisting him to become something more than just a farmer. His mother was always dotting him. He may be annoyed sometimes but he does enjoy it nonetheless.

“Ah I see. You are fortunate, Ackerman. Maybe I can use my position to get you a better occupation? “ She offered her help.

“I, thank you my lady for your offer, but I must decline. I am humble to be a farmer just like my father.” Arne bows respectfully to Lady Ingrid.

“Very well. I will respect your decision.” Ingrid gave a small smile.

Before they leave their separate ways, Ingrid hears a few men with their horses galloping through a busy main road on the village. She turned around to see those guards that were chasing her earlier looking for her. Quickly, she grabbed Arne to run into a random shop. The shop was dark and dainty. The only light it shined was from the hazy window. Both hid as the knight guards passing through the muddy street. Arne could feel the woman’s body pressed too close for his liking. Don’t get him wrong. As a man, he would enjoy it, but this woman was a high born lady. A lowly commoner must respect a high born at all cost plus his mother taught to respect women no matter what status they are. To be honest, he hasn’t ever been with a woman. Most of his time since reaching puberty, he works and reads. It had never considered him courting a decent girl. He did have a crush on a girl who was his neighbor, but she had chosen another for better crops and livestock than his family could offer.

He remembered how heartbroken he was when Arne came back home and explained that Roslyn had coaxed flirting gestures along another boy who also liked her. It was also the main reason he lost his best friend. In a way, he was happy for him; but it did hurt his pride. It’s stupid now to let his pride ruin his friendship. Maybe, he’ll stop by their land with a peace offer and have his best friend in his life again.

“Are they looking for you?” Arne stared at the strawberry blonde haired woman.

“Yes, looks like they noticed I escaped. Some of them are part of my clan.” She growled in irritation.

“You are very committed to not marry the royal heir.” His steeled eyes looked over the window

“I rather died than marrying that incompetent imbecile boy. I am a Völsung. I will not have my bloodline tainted with an idiot who prefer to suckle his mother’s tits than grow bloody balls.” Ingrid continued.

“I see you have colorful vocabularies for a beauty maiden such as yourself.” Arne let a smirk appear on his lips from being amused the way she ranted about Prince Adelrick of the Fritz clan, heir to the Eldia Empire.

Ingrid blushed from his compliment and the way she used foul words. It’s not that a lady likes to use improper words, but she was never your average high born maiden. So he labels her as beautiful? In her world of high born, most men saw her as a wild maiden that hasn’t been tamed yet. Being a Völsung, she was trained to fight and be in shape as she was supposed to inherit the Attack Titan, but her cousin took it. Her clan was the only one who still allowed their females to train like warriors. Most of the clans became soft and weak. All they worried about was how to appear like an ideal maiden or lord to woo them away and live happily ever after like the Grimm brothers’ fairytale book she was read to as a child. That’s why her clan was in charge of holding the Attack Titan. Most males were born into her bloodline until her existence. Her mother died giving birth to her and her father didn’t take another wife since he had mourned and loved her mother. She had admired her father’s loyalty to her mother. Their love story was poetic to tell.

“Yes well, if you were forced to marry some royal cunt. You would probably be colorful with your words too.” Ingrid held her chin up as her pride began to take over.

“I guess I would.” He chuckled humorly. “It makes you look human than some godly being a peasant like me should have been worshipping.” His dark humor came out.

“I never see myself as some divine maiden. Just like you, I’m a human that’s capable of making errors or has flaws.” She glanced through the window again.

“Good to know.” He glanced at the window too.

“I think it’s safe. I guess I should take my leave. Thank you for your company, Arne.” She stepped away from him which Arne felt relieved. If she had stayed closer to his body more, let just say his little friend would have woken up.

“It’s my pleasure, my lady.” He said.

“Ingrid. You may call me Ingrid since we are becoming familiar with one of another.” She said.

“That seems improper for a commoner like me to call your name.” Arne said while blushing a bit. In their society, you get to call someone their first name if you are close like friends, families, or lovers. Like in their situation, people will talk and assume their lovers. Ingrid is definitely a bold wild beauty. She’s like a she-wolf. Untamed, wild, and strong. He doesn’t find women like her these days.

“It never bothers me on what’s proper or improper. I insist. We can call each other by names. I think we are way passed being acquaintances. Beside you seem a very intriguing person to befriend.” She smirked at him.

“Hm, very well. As long in public, we still use the proper etiquette for your sake, Ingrid. People are gossipers. We don’t want them thinking the wrong idea.” He awkwardly laughs at the thought of seeing her potential crush. Oh by the gods, he can’t already be attractive to her. She’s beautiful and tough, but seeing him as her equal.

“What kind of wrong idea? That we are secret lovers?” She teased him to make his face flushed noticeably.

“Yes, they will think that since we are talking too comfortably. Besides, you’re not my type.” He is trying to play cool.

Ingrid raised her brow at him. “Not your type? Am I not a beauty as you had put it that way earlier?”

“I- you may be beautiful, but it takes more than just beauty to have my attention…” Arne coughed as he faced away from the embarrassing position he’s in. Seriously, does this woman have no shame in being too bold. She is lucky it's him and not some other man who would have taken advantage of her. He just doesn’t want to have his heart given away too easily. He had learnt his lesson.

“Oh I see? You are not like other men I have encountered. Most just want a pretty damsel in distress for a bride. The only reason men wanted me as their bride is because it will boost their ego for being known to tame a Völsung woman into a demure lady-like maiden. So what are your types?” She grinned. “Come, you can tell me on the way to your family farm.”

“Wait what? Why do you want to go to my family farm? Should you be at least going back to your clan? I can’t promise you my family and I will give you the life of your status.” He was confused about her wanting to go to his home.

“I can’t go back there. My Lord cousin will send me back to that awful place to be tied down until the wedding ceremony is complete. I am not expecting a royal treatment if that’s what concerns you.” Ingrid tried to convince him.

“What will you do or go after your stay with my family?” He said. A part of him was concerned for her well being. She won’t last long wandering alone. There are slave traders out there who kidnaps women to be sold into brothels or some disturbing masters. He is admired for her bold and brave persona but this is the real world. She will regret running away from her wedding to have freedom that she might lose to a horrible fate.

“Um, I’ll probably sell this gown and my jewels to use the money to travel away from this Empire and see the rest of the world.” Her tone was optimistic, but to him it was a naïve idea.

“I see. For now, my family and I will offer hospitality until you are certain you want to travel out of the world.” He said feeling more worried. Why show he be worried for her? She had made her decision on where to go. Also, he just met her.

Ingrid had noticed the way he asked questions like a worrying parent. To be honest, she felt flatter that her cheeks were getting warm. The noble woman had dreamt to travel and learn the world. Maybe if she convinced him to come join to travel the world then it won’t be a ridiculous plan as it sounds. Yes, she may be trained to defend herself but there will be tricksters to find a way to harm her or sell her.

“Very well. Let’s see how it goes. It’s better than going back so, let’s head to your home, Arne.” She smiled then grabbed his arm to link around hers and dragged him away to the main road that leads to the Ackerman’s farm.

It took a couple of hours to get to the 10 acres property of the Ackermans. Ingrid was amazed how neatly their crops were aligned. The hens and their chicks roaming around freely in the grassy area of the land. The place looks homey and inviting which is a different scenery than she was used to. Arne opened the little gate that he built to make it nice and aesthetic for the house. He had painted white the wooden fence around the property when he was a boy. Around the area, his neighbors hired him to do the same, which that’s how he earned enough money to buy materials to self-teach education.

“This home looks very innovative. Did your father have some knowledge in architecture or any engineering talents?” Ingrid noticed how the house was so symmetrical that it looks like an experienced engineer had done it.

He chuckled. “No, it was me who had fixed a little bit the house then added the fences.”

“That’s amazing. You have very talented hands! Sometimes I read books on engineering and mathematics to learn the most efficient structure to lead a modern era.” The way her tone sounded was excitement and admiration for his work.

“Um thank you, my- Ingrid. I mean yes, thank you. Ingrid.” Seriously, he’s just making this worse for him being a fool in front of her. She grinned then nudged his side playfully.

“It’s not a problem, lover.” She smirked.

Arne mumbled. “Oi woman, I don’t want my parents to get the wrong idea about thinking I brought a potential wife.”

“Humph, isn’t that a good thing? You are a man of age that should be married with children by now.” She said.

This made Arne glanced at her with his dark brow raised up. “I should say the same thing about you, Ingrid.”

“Ok, I had that coming, but if you should know; I would have made a wonderful wife. If I choose to settle down in the near future.” Arne trying hard not to snort into laughter. Will she last to be the wife of a farmer like him? It does sound nice to have a headstrong woman with intelligence like her as his wife. No, what are you doing? Get rid of these nonsense ideas. She is a high born, and you're a low born with no true identity. Arne still remembered the gossips of the old cronies earlier about his unknown origin. Later, he will bring this up with his parents.

“Probably to a noble or a king.” He said with a neutral tone. Ingrid noticed his tone changed as she frowned. He was being flirty in his own way for a few seconds. Maybe he doesn’t really see her that way. Don’t worry, the high born maiden was known to be stubborn and determined. She never gave her attention to any man until she met Arne.

The way he looked was different from most average Eldian men in the empire. Something in him does give off any Eldian traits. Is he connected to the curse like the rest of them? It doesn’t matter, she got some time to get to know him well enough. They were already by the front door of the house and Arne opened the door for both of them to enter.

“Mother, father. I have returned home.” He shouted for his parents to hear his arrival. It was not that long his mother walked in fast pace to greet her son, but was surprised to see Ingrid with him. Instantly, Hilda courtesy into a bow as she once did when she had worked at the palace as a girl.

“Oh my. My lady. This is a surprise to have Lady Ingrid of the Völsung clan in my home. The gods have blessed my family to have such a lovely lady as you in our presence.” Hilda was still bowing.

“Please, you don’t need to bow. I’m honored to be here. Your son has said so many wonderful things to both of you.” Ingrid smiled humbly at Hilda.

Hilda slowly rose to stand to glance at the noble woman. “Arne be a gentleman to take off her cloak and hand up.” The older woman gave a look to her son which he knows too well when he doesn’t do something right but doesn’t want to humiliate him in front of a noble.

Arne nodded to obey his mother and removed Ingrid her cloak to place it on a hanger on the wall. Ingrid let’s him then thanked him. Both of them had another blushing moment from being in too close contact to each other. The Lady Völsung felt his fingers brushing her shoulders as he slowly removed her royal blue cloak. She hopes his mother doesn’t catch on her expression and questions both of them. They don’t have anything to hide since they just met but to others it won’t stop them assuming more.

“Please do come in. Follow me, we’re about to eat supper.” Hilda smiled politely as she led both her son and Lady Ingrid to the kitchen.

Once they reached the kitchen, both Ingrid and Arne sat down as Hilda began to serve their meal. Not too long, Birger walked in to see everyone at the table.

“My lady, welcome to our home. I’m sorry I was not aware you would join us for supper.” He glanced at his wife then his son.

“Please, don’t bow. I’m just here as a guest since your kind son had invited me here.” Ingrid glanced at Arne then back to Birger.

“Ah, then please make yourself at home. We, Ackermans, offer our food, shelter and a place to rest whenever you need.” Birger said with warmth.

“Thank you. I will take on your offer, Farmer Ackerman.” She smiled.

“Shall we begin to eat.” He chuckled as he sat down and looked at his meal already served.

The Ackermans and Ingrid enjoying the meal that Hilda had prepared for supper. The pot sew was just right in taste. The broth was flavorful with a rich texture of local spice. The vegetables were cut into bite size chunks to enjoy eating along the goat meat from early morning killing. Even the bread was warm and freshly baked as Ingrid grabbed a bread roll. Hilda Ackerman is a very skilled cook. She probably learnt some of the tips during her time working at the castle in her youth.

“This stew tastes amazing. I never had this tasty stew like this before. You are very talented.” Ingrid looked up to praise Hilda for the tasty meal. Of course, the older woman blushed from being praised by Lady Ingrid.

“Thank you. Your words mean so much to me. I used to work at the Fritz castle when I was a young girl. I had the opportunity to learn how to master cooking whenever my mistress let me have my breaks.” Hilda said.

“Oh? What did you do there? Arne had mentioned you used to work there.” This made both parents glance at each other.

They are a bit concerned for their son and Ingrid after all they are curious how both Arne and Ingrid had met? Hilda had noticed Ingrid’s outfit looked more extravagant for a casual stroll outside of the castle. The older woman figured Lady Völsung was dressed to be wed. She had heard news a few days ago that both the heir and Lady Ingrid were to be wed soon.

“I was once the head handmaiden to the King’s mistress, Lady Astrid of the Krüger clan. She always had been a picky eater so I was put in charge of making her meals when She had tried one of my dishes I made for lunch.” Hilda said.

“You used to know Lady Astrid?! She’s a kin on my mother’s side. I believe they were first cousins since both their fathers were brothers.” Ingrid said.

“Oh you must be Lady Hella’s daughter? Lady Astrid had always said something good about your mother. They were dearest friends.” Both women began to talk more about the Krüger cousins.

Birger decided to interrupt them to ask both Arne and Ingrid. “Pardon to be bold, my lady. We’re curious how my son met you? He usually tells us or acts obvious when he fancies a maiden.” Arne couldn't believe his father was embarrassing him in front of Ingrid. Later, the damned woman will tease him about this.

“Oh we just met today at the village close to here. I accidentally ran into him. I ran away from...my wedding.” Her face flushed from the embarrassment that a maiden of her age ran away like a child just because she doesn’t like her betrothed.

“Ah I see. Do you plan on going back?” Birger carefully chooses his words. He believed it would be best to have the noblewoman go back to be wedded. It would cause less problems for his family. The older man does find Lady Ingrid compassionate, but having her here would bring danger to his family. His family was his main priority.

“No….but I understand me being here will bring your family trouble. So, I’m planning to leave this place to explore the world.” She said.

“My lady, would it be dangerous for you to be out by yourself? Husband, we can’t let her go out there alone in the world.” Hilda frowned while looking at her husband to plead him to help the lady.

“Hilda.” He scolded his wife. Hilda became quiet. Meanwhile, Arne was contemplating whether to advocate Ingrid for her to stay.

“My lady, please don’t take this too personally. I am honored for your presence here, but you are putting us in danger. I need to do what it takes to protect my family, so you are welcome here until tomorrow morning. We’ll give you a bed for you to sleep. Please understand that.” He said.

“No, father. She can’t leave. I’m sorry….mother and father for our lie to you how we met.” Arne pushed his chair back to stand up firmly. He doesn’t know why he’s helping her out but, Arne rather she’s staying hidden here than being thrown out alone.

“What is the meaning of your outburst, son?” Birger was a bit shaken for his son’s action. He rarely spoke out like this towards him, his father. Ingrid was confused but held a curious express to watch Arne protesting for her.

“I can’t allow you to kick her out. I….we had been seeing each other for a while. I convinced her to run away with me so we can be married instead of marrying with the prince.” He said it. He can’t believe he’s digging his grave further.

Arne gently grabbed her hand. Ingrid blushed from what he had just said. This man is an idiot. She thought to herself. She understood he was trying to help her out, but not like this. Oh dear, now they will believe they’re forbidden lovers that are ready to run away together. Of course, both parents were a bit overwhelmed.

“Arne! Do you have a death wish? If anyone figures out you were with Lady Ingrid out in the public, they will send you to the dungeon cells. The worst case scenario, you could have been executed for having an affair with a higher born much less the heir’s bride.” Arne’s father was upset at his son’s reckless action. Things would have been ok if it was some low born girl, but this one will cause serious problems for the family.

“I understand father. But you can’t help it if you’re in love, right?” Arne glanced at his father.

Ingrid was biting her lips carefully. She was nervous. Her guilt consumed her. Here she is being selfish again for wanting to have the freedom she craves and not thinking of the action she had placed on Arne and his family. They have not done anything wrong. The Ackermans are a nice and kind-hearted family. She should say something and diffuse the argument.

“I understand how much both of you are in love, but this isn’t some children’s fairytale where love will conquer all. It takes more for a marriage to work without resenting each other for the rest of your lives until death comes to the door. Give us another reason why we shouldn’t send her to the guards to take her back to the castle?” Birger said with an authoritative tone.

“Husband please. At least we can be sent to a neutral area like the temples of the gods. We can help her go to the three goddesses' temples. They protect maiden no matter what.” Again, Hilda pleaded. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Lady Ingrid or her family.

“I have a reason. Lady Ingrid and I got… carry away and it’s possible she’s carrying my child.” Why does his honor have to get him into trouble. He would feel guilty for letting her go where she could danger herself so this is the plan he had quickly thought of. His grey eyes glimpse to see how red the girl’s face was. Oh he can understand how this is embarrassing for him as much as it is for her too. Now, it would be a good time for her being her playful bold self.

“Isn’t that right my love?” Arne caressed his thumb on to her hand like a true lover would do. Ingrid was trying so hard to speak but her throat was tight. The way his thumb caressing her hand made her stomach flutter. Why does he have to act a knight in shining armor?

“Y-yes, my heart’s warrior. I love your son. I’m sorry for the problems I have caused. He has been nothing but kind and gentle. You are both blessed with a son who treats me as an equal. I am blessed to have met him.” Ingrid steps away from Arne’s gentle gesture to get on her knees. The elder Ackermans’ eyes widened to see the noblewoman was on her knee to bow her head. She was asking for their blessing for their marriage. They don’t know what to think.

“Please, accept me as your daughter in law. I shall honor to be a better wife for your son and learn the life of farming. I prefer this fate then being some mare to breed royal heirs instead of being seen as a person. I beg of you, give us your blessing.” Who would've thought she was a good actress? Arne for a moment was convinced she wanted to marry him. He doesn’t mind being married since it will get the ladies off his back and he can be at peace. If for some reason they do actually get married, all he will see a friendship. He knows Ingrid will not be into him. She can be bold but she was a playful person who liked jester things. Once he saw her on her knees to bow to his parents, he followed her to do what she did.

“ Please mother and father bless us. Once we get married, we’ll go to some far away village to be hidden and one day we'll visit you.” He said.

Birger and Hilda glanced at each other rather than contemplating from their pleads. Finally, Birger broke the silence.

“As the damage was already done, both of you will wed. My lady it’s best you go under a different name to protect your identity. I know someone who lives on the edge of our great empire, in Kahr. It’s a city-states that’s connected to the port if both must flee from danger.” Birger sighed. They have to do this as soon as possible before they all get caught.

Both “couples” nodded in accepting the terms. After supper, Ingrid was led to a room to rest for the night. Arne gave her some spare clothes from his mother when she was young.

“Here, these were my mother’s clothes. You might need to change to not be noticed.” He said. Before he was about to leave, Ingrid stopped him.

“Arne, why did you tell your parents that we’re lovers? I’m flatter for trying to protect me but you are a fool. I can handle it on my own.” She said. The noblewoman wanted to know why he did? He doesn’t owe her anything. If everyone knew the truth, their reputation would tarnish. Arne will have it the worst since he’s a commoner. Knowing how their society was, they’ll make it seem he had kidnapped her and forced her to be with him which it was not true.

“Because I hate to be the reason you get into danger. I know you can handle it, but that would stop the worst men from taking advantage of you. If this is the way for you to stay alive and free then I will do it. As your friend, I want to help.” He said with honesty.

Ingrid couldn’t help to blush from his words. She took a breath to calm herself. “I see. I’m grateful for your selfless act, Ackerman.” She is trying to be aloof.

“Oh we're back to surnames, Völsung?” He chuckled then smirked.

The noblewoman rolled her eyes. “So, are you sure you’re ok with this...us being in a marriage?” She wondered if he wouldn't bother to have a wife like her. Ingrid had always felt she never had met the standards how a proper wife should be.

“Yes, as I said. I don’t mind. You are someone I would have as a wife even if it’s not love.” He said.

“I’m a high born lady. Love is a luxury for those who don't have a choice to choose to be with someone.” Ingrid said.

“But I suppose I am lucky since I made my choice to pick how I want to live. I prefer marrying you who can offer companionship, mutual respect and honorable value than a royal cunt who only desires to tame me as I'm some wild beast. I just knew, I would be miserable if I chose death.” Arne sat on the bed which Ingrid does the same.

“Even though we just met, I have already felt comfortable around you, Ingrid. I wish I could offer you what you deserve.” Arne had his body faced towards her.

“You already have. I really don’t care about wealth and status. Yes, I grew up being comfortable as a noble lady, but it has been stressful. I had to try to be the ideal lady and if I showed the real me, oh it would be a scandal that I will get an earful from my cousin. I know you think this is just a game and excitement until reality hits me. I’m a committed person. So, I’m hundred percent sure of this.” She clarified him.

“Alright, as long you know what you are getting yourself into.” Arne whispered. Now, both of them became silent and felt the awkwardness as they realized they’re in the room alone.

“So...if your parents believed we might excepting then looks like we’ll have to make that into a reality?” She smirked, giving her playfully.

Arne grumbled while his face flushed red from that thought that soon he will lay with her as husband and wife. He wondered what their children would look like? He hopes they inherit her spirit-free personality and optimism. If the gods bless them for that is.

“Woman, are you that eager to have me in your bed?” He gets back at her by being playfully too.

“I mean in a way I already did since you are sitting next to me on the bed.” She continued. Deep down her heart pounding hard from thinking they will consummate after marriage which what the elder Ackerman couples said tomorrow will be the ceremony. Birger and Hilda already make preparations since they wanted to do as soon as possible for this family’s safety.

“You’re right. As the groom, I shouldn’t be this close to my bride.” Arne didn’t know what occurred to him in being very intimately close to her. He leaned his body where her body felt warm even though their bodies weren't in contact.

Ingrid felt her breath become shallow when he got closer. Her blue eyes stared into grey eyes of his. It felt as the room was spinning then stopped with silence. The strawberry blonde haired woman had never been this close toward a man. Heck, not even with her betroth. The prince did try but all he got was his manhood being kneed for not respecting her boundaries. With Arne, it’s different. He was different. This man had made her heart beat like drums. She was conflicted about whether to try to go for it. Their lips are a few centimeters apart. She could feel his breath on her skin. This is what she gets for being a tease. Now, curiosity has won. She wanted to feel his lips.

“What are you waiting for? Kiss your bride.” She said breathlessly.

Arne should have not gonna close. Ingrid is a beautiful woman. Any man should be lucky to have a fiery spirit girl like her as a wife. He wanted to keep his boundary away from her due to their status difference. Ingrid is like the forbidden fruit he had become tempted. Just as she gave her signal to do it. The dark haired man pressed his lips onto hers. Just as he expected, her lips were warm and soft. Their kiss was gently passionate. There was no rush or intense hunger yet.

Finally they broke away to gasp for air. They stared at each other until Arne coughed and looked away shyly.

“You’re not a bad kisser.” Ingrid said while trying not to blush at their kiss.

“Oh really? You’re not bad either.” He smiled.

Both realize how late it is and Arne gets up to leave her be. He walked out of the room while thinking of how sweet like honey her lips taste. He wondered if Ingrid felt a spark from their kiss?

The following morning, the Ackerman’s farm was busy with some villagers helping out the Ackermans for a last minute wedding. Ingrid was wearing a white simple gown. Her hair was loose with curls and on top of her head was a crown of flowers.

She looked like a villager bride and she preferred that way. Besides, Ingrid felt comfortable without wearing a corset and heavy fabrics with jewels. It’s too much for her. The bride took a deep breath then heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.” She said. As the door opened, Hilda entered the room then gasped into admiring the bride's beauty.

“My lady, you look like a goddess.” The older woman smiled.

“Hilda, you can’t no longer call me my lady. Soon, I will be your daughter.” Ingrid glanced at the older woman.

“Then you must call me mother. We are going to be family.” Her smile hasn’t left. Hilda hugged the young bride.

“Let’s go. They are waiting for you.” Hilda arm linked Ingrid and both ladies walked out to where the wedding will be located.

Levi…wake up…

Huh? Is it over? Wait a second, why is that apeshit here? The male Ackerman opened his eyes to see Zeke Jaeger. His eyes glowed silver as he glared at the blonde man who has a smug face on his face. The captain wanted to bash his hairy face to the wall. Just seeing him, making Levi crave to release his violent tendencies.

“Good, you are awake. Don’t worry. We’re not done yet. I want to know what did your little armies and assassins kept my little brother, Eren? I had rumors he was taken by your rebels. I suggest you tell me what you know or this time you will be the one without arms and legs. I heard an Ackerman can regenerate like a titan shifter but at a slower pace than a shifter.” Zeke glared back at Levi.

“I do not know or care about your kin, you weakling.” Iapetus took over Levi when Zeke appeared. The titan can smell the shifter’s fear as Zeke tries to mask it. Tch. Such a coward. Soon, he’ll regain his strength to claw his hand into Zeke to tear him into pieces where the room will be painted with guts and blood of the infamous Zeke Jaeger. Both Levi and Iapetus had enough with Zeke’s and his followers’ bullshit.

“You better be careful with your words, monster. You don’t want nothing to happen to your whore and bastard son of yours.” Zeke threatens him.

Instinctively, Iapetus growled at Zeke. How did this piece of shit find out about Atticus being alive?

“Oh, Historia was sneaky for acting like a grieving mother losing her child. I’m impressed by her cunning ability to fool everyone. Once I tell the king and the grandmaster, they will send someone to assassinate your infant son along your subordinate, Sasha Braus. So, start talking, devil. Where is Eren Jaeger?” Zeke said.

Levi/Iapetus were panicking for their mate/wife and son. Both host and titan are feeling useless being cuffed on the table. Zeke better not take away his family. He had already taken away his comrades along his late commander, Erwin Smith.

“What do I know? If you haven't notice, I have been on this fucking table for days! I thought you would be smarter than that. Tch, figures being the Beast Titan holder had shrunk your capacity of being intellectual. I don’t even know where that shitty brat? Problem fucking some girl before he goes commit a geocide or something.” Levi regains his control. He spewed insults at his enemy. What Ackerman doesn't know is how accurate he is about what Eren had been doing.

Zeke scoffed in annoyance. “Like my little brother is capable of wasting time for such nonsense. He is determined to follow the path that Ymir opens the doors for him to save the Eldians from doom fate.”

“You are seriously stupid. Eren is a fucking hot blooded brat. You forget how he confessed his love towards my wife.” He remembered when the Jaegerists kidnapped Historia. Eren went crazy shit that day and kissed his wife. Levi literally wanted to slice him, but his focus was recusing Historia. “I won’t be surprised that he would be sticking his cock into some poor girl and accidentally knocked her up.”

Zeke didn’t take it well as he punched Levi out of anger. The assassin just laughed darkly. Historia punches better than Zeke’s. How fucking adorable that his punches will cause him damage? Once another punch came towards Levi, he quickly bit Zeke’s wrist to lock his jaw deep into the blonde man’s flesh. Iapetus slowly switched to take over and rip off his enemy’s hand. All you can hear the screams in agony pain. “Try to punch me and your other hand will rip off, weakling.” Zeke whimpered from pain and fear. He glanced at how monstrous Levi looked. So, this is the true power of the Ackermans. They are the real devils in this world.

(Natasha/Eve)

It was now night. Natasha slept on the tent that Eren made. He slept outside since Rico and Nile prohibit especially them from not sharing a tent together. Damn that Rico. She probably told the other commander. That’s embarrassing and what’s worse; Rick had been avoiding her when the camp found out Eren and Eve had a little getaway in the deep forest. SHe felt guilty for hurting the garrison soldier. Yeah, she’s a fucked up for using people. The woman from the future wanted to go apologize to him for misleading him and hurting his feelings. Turns out, he thought she was kind, compassionate and innocent. Of course, Natasha is capable of being compassionate, but most of the time she manipulates to get what she wants or needs. She lied to those that care about her for right or wrong reasons. She twists people’s words when they push her limit. Most of the time. She hadn’t felt any regret for her actions. Until the sex scandal happen. In a way, karma was a bitch and she does deserve it. Maybe if she acted like a human being, she would not disappoint her family and have arguments with them every time she visits them.

The brown haired woman felt tears slipped out of her eyes from reflecting that she was the problem every time she argued with her grandparents. The American missed them. She remembered at one point there were so many fond memories spending time with her father’s side family. Her best friend and aunt, Kuchel, had always stuck by her. They are practical around the same age. Her grandmother, Historia, had taught her how to cook Eldian cuisines. Her grandpa Levi had bonded in silence as they sip fresh brew tea. She prefers green tea or lavender but sometimes black tea is alright.

The heiress closed her eyes to try to sleep. She fell asleep. Her eyes open to see green grass all over the ground. There were some wildflowers. Along her view, a huge lone tree stands big and tall. The branches stretched out with leaves all over each branch. The woman was confused about where this place was.

She noticed pathways were made to connect to the tree. Eve walked to the tree. As she got there, a little girl was sitting on one of the thick roots. The little girl had platinum blonde hair, fair skin, a misery expression. She couldn’t identify the eyes because of the bangs covering them.

The girl looked up to stare at her. Eve felt uncertain and cautious. The girl may come off innocent but you never know what that girl is truly capable of.

“I see that you’re Eve. What a strange name for a descendant of mine to have?” The girl spoke.

“How do you know who I am?” This startle Eve. She looked around in an attempt to figure out where she was.

“Because as your ancestress, I know everything about my bloodline. You are a very interesting woman. I misunderstood you. You and Eren are one in the same, but yet so different. I envy you. You felt alone as no one understood you. You crave to belong. Your family slowly leaves you in many ways like death, and different mindsets.” the girl said.

“Hm, so you’re Ymir Fritz. Are you sure you’re talking about yourself? You had issues wanting to belong with someone as a daughter, sister, mother, aunt, cousin, niece, or wife. I think instead of being noisy with your descendants you should focus on your yearning belonging with anyone.” Natasha was getting annoyed. What does Ymir want anyways.

“Your attitude is terrible.” Ymir said. “The reason why I contact you because there is another way to save our people without causing imbalance to the world by eradicating the rest of the human population. With your inhuman intelligence, you can create a cure. For Eldians become immune to the curse.”

This has Natasha’s attention. “What do you mean? So, it’s possible to find a cure?”

“Of course, the origin of how I receive it was not hundred percent true. I did make a deal with the devil, but it was an Isu. A race that was responsible for creating humans. I’m sure you know what I’m referring to. His infamous name was Lucifer. He saw a poor slave girl who he felt pity for and helped to grant a gift. A special apple that was modified to give you strength, fear, and power. I took it and ate it. Now, I curse as this power is like a disease that spreads the Eldian race if they indigested my fluid. From throughout time, Marleyans studied some Eldians who reside there and extract their DNA to make pure but weak Titans. It was never meant to become out of control like this. I didn’t know I would be responsible for the pain of my people. All because I was a selfish little girl wanting to belong with someone. So, you are right. I should be focusing on that but it’s too late. I am tired of a two thousand years old conflict. I trust you that you’ll find a curse and stop this curse before it gets much worse.” Ymir pleaded.

“How will I find a curse? I need time and resources to figure out where Lucifer is if he is still alive. Hell, I need a sample of that apple but you ate it.” Natasha felt frustrated with this new responsibility she was given.

“Child, you are a Stark. If your late grandfather could discover a new element and solve it to make time travel, I know you will find the cure to break this curse. About the apple, I have not finished it, it’s still out there hidden. You’ll find old scrolls that will lead to the current location of the bitten Devil’s apple.” Ymir explained.

“Great, I have to go be like Lara Croft from Tomb Raider to be able to pull off finding the apple.” Eve sighed.

“Fine, I will do it, but what about Eren Should he know about this too?” The woman said curiously.

“Eren will know eventually. Right now, he has his own destiny to fulfill. Just make sure he does not activate the Rumbling at all cost. If you must kill him, do it. He may not be planning to know, but in the future he will activate.” Ymir said.

The thought of killing Eren made her stomach turn. She doesn’t know if she can do it. How could she do it? She loves Eren so much. It hurts from thinking one day it will come to that. She can understand why your great aunt Mikasa took her how she once struggled to be an obedient soldier whenever Eren was hurt or in danger when both were young. Her great aunt had loved him too, but he had never returned her feelings. Maybe Eve was the reason for Eren not loving Mikasa? She doesn’t know.

“This is asking too much. I can’t kill the man I love…” Her tears form then falls from her steel colored eyes.

“You will. It’s because you love him that motivates you to give him peace. You will understand when the time comes. There’s one more time I need to mention.” Ymir glanced at her descendant.

“What is it?” She sniffled from crying. Her hand wiping her tears away.

“Don’t risk yourself, especially if you're in a vulnerable state.” Ymir said in a cautious tone.

Natasha gave a confusing expression to her ancestor. “Why? I don’t get what you’re saying?”

Ymir steps closer to her and places her cool hand on Natasha’s stomach. “You're barely still in your first trimester. Your daughter is growing strong like both her parents.”

The heiress’s eyes widened. She’s pregnant? She’s carrying Eren’s kid. Shit, this is what happens when your boyfriend is too irresistible to keep her hands to herself.

“No, no. How can I be? I don’t feel any symptoms besides my period should come in a few days.” The American was in denial.

“Child, you are pregnant just only three weeks. I do want to give you a warning so you would miscarry since you’re a reckless person. Now, you must go back to your world. I will contact you next time.” Ymir disappeared

Natasha woke up with a gasp. It was dark still and cold. She felt warmth close to her. The dark hair woman turned around to see that Eren was asleep peacefully. His arm wrapped around her waist tightly, but not too tight. She took a deep breath then placed her hand on her stomach. Oh god, she hopes Ymir is wrong. A part of her knows it is possible since both Eren and Natasha can get carried away most of the time. They are both passionate people. If she is pregnant, how will she tell Eren about it? She also worried what the Jaegerists that both Eren and his older brother, Zeke had created will do to her and her child. She doesn’t want how her mother and infant brother end up. The Jaegerists were responsible for both of their deaths. The woman doesn’t know the connection they have with her father’s death. She still wants to take her revenge on these extremists. One day, she will succeed. Mark her words. They will be begging for mercy.

A/N: Finally, done with this chapter. I’m so sorry this took two weeks to finish this. Here’s chapter 16. Enjoy, my loves <3

#rivahisu #historia reiss #levi ackerman #levihisu #ymir fritz #attack on titan #crossover #oc: natasha

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Witch Way to Revenge || Morgan & Miriam

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @meflemming & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Miriam have a girl’s night. At least no one was physically injured?

CONTAINS: emo times

Girl’s night in with Miriam looked a lot like Morgan expected: animal hides dangling from their racks, wine-blood cocktails and brain smoothies in rose gold tinted glassware, and moody music from Miriam’s Spotify playlist underscored by the percussion of leatherworking and bone carving as fresh white shavings spread over the work table like confetti. The antler Morgan was working was just for practice, but maybe if the piece didn’t come out too wonky she would stash it for herself, a hope towards another etsy store, or at least a contribution to the universe that wasn’t so frustratingly fraught. Everywhere Morgan looked was a mess waiting to happen or already in progress, even within. She mistrusted her quiet, fearing another breakdown, she mistrusted her fire, hating the thought of adding to the list of sacrifices and blood Constance had already accumulated. And the people she trusted, who she wanted to cling to—

Morgan’s burr scraped too roughly into the bone, digging an impossibly crooked hole into its side. She set down her burr before she made another mess and chugged her smoothie. “Is it breaking the vibe too much if I ask a serious question?” The look of apology on her face said that she was going to do it whether Miriam thought so or not. “I was wondering if...you ever feel kind of sick about your uh...side hustle. And then do it anyway? I feel like if nothing else, being able to see Constance come apart with my own two zombie eyes is going to be satisfying in ways I don’t have words for, but right now I’m...not there. I’m just curious, I guess.”

Humming along to the music Elle had put on her phone, Miriam was busy removing hair from a skin, not truly thinking, just enjoying the process. She’d found the deer the other evening after she’d gone to the cemeteries. Miriam hadn’t truly been hunting for witches. Not hard, at least. But the frustration of the itch not being scratched caused her to lash out. She’d dropped it off on the way back to Evelyn’s, and she’d been staying the night there ever since, though frustration kept building and building. This was nice, though. No murder, no ghostly research, no threatening or dead witch bodies (except for Morgan’s, but she didn’t count).The flavor of bloodied wine eased some of her darker thoughts. Morgan seemed a bit stressed, of course, but Miriam didn’t pry. They both had their secrets.

Miriam’s sensitive ears picked up the sound of scraping bone, and she glanced up at Morgan. Raising an eyebrow, she took a sip from her glass. “I don’t mind, Morgan.” She paused, thinking it over. The look on Morgan’s face was enough for her to know that the question wasn’t meant cruelly, though. “Side hustle makes it sound like I’m a gangster of some sort. It’s simply my nature.” She wrinkled up her nose a bit before she sighed and put down the fleshing knife she’d been using. Miriam faced Morgan fully, leaning back against the counter. “The very first time was hard, but I couldn’t stop.” She would not tell Morgan how she cried for Theo. She would not. “And then it was all too easy. It was retribution, for all the lies and the hurt that magic causes. Eventually, I thought I was done, for the most part, and I went to ground. When I woke up, it was the same, that righteous anger that I had to do what needed to be done.” Murder, Mim. Just say murder. “I’m certainly glad I didn’t kill you, though. And now… Now it’s just a necessity, not a desire. I have other things to do with my time, but…” She let the sentence trail off into nothing and cleared her throat. “What brings up the curiosity, darling?”

“On the one hand, gangster, on the other: intrepid and self-motivated,” Morgan explained, sniggering. “It doesn’t pay as well as your day job, it’s more of a passion project. Which, you know, you could probably benefit from having a real one of those.” She was trying to keep her tone light, gentle in her teasing to show how desperate she was to get Miriam to do something, anything else with her existence besides her indiscriminate murder vendetta against witches. But Miriam’s response to her question was...surprisingly earnest. Even as Morgan sensed that she was keeping something back, she knew she was telling as much of the truth as she could manage.

“Couldn’t stop?” She asked in a whisper. For the first time she considered if Miriam’s claims about not being in control of herself were true. She could think of nothing more terrifying than losing her will, her self to something that lacked even a face or a name. It seemed a worse fate than what Constance had given her. It couldn’t be true. “You know it wasn’t...he wasn’t his magic, Miriam,” she said softly. “He deserved everything he got from you. But he’s not actually everywhere, even if it feels that way. He wasn’t hiding in me somewhere.” She looked back to her bone carving before setting everything down. “Why does it feel necessary? Sorry, that sounds-- I’m curious about you, because of course I am, but I’m asking for...me. I struggle so hard to explain to people why I need this, and I don’t know if the words exist. I was set up to suffer before I was even born, punished for something I didn’t do as early as three, broken, slowly in cycles, over some girl’s hissy fit of bad turns. And at the bottom of it all, I know that I need to do something different, to be different than the person she ground up to death. And I need to call the shots. I need to know down in my soul I’m free of her, forever. And, yeah, sometimes I get a kick out of imagining what it will be like to give her back as much pain as I can. I had to kill a fucking hunter to get the carding comb to hurt her with, I’m going to make sure it’s worth it. But does any of this make sense to you at all? You’re not even going after the person who hurt you anymore and is it...just this ache? Or this pull that you can’t have peace or quiet or anything fully until this is done?

The sound Miriam made wasn’t particularly ladylike; nor was the eyeroll she gave Morgan. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if her mother walked out of the family mausoleum just to scold her for her lack of manners. “Aren’t we all self-motivated, sweetness?” she asked, reaching to take a sip of her wine only to find that the glass was empty. She frowned before going to the small fridge she kept in her work area to make another glass. “I mean, that’s quintessential human nature, though human is a bit narrowly focused. We both know that. Anything with conscious thought is self-motivated, I think one could argue.” One part blood bag, two parts cabernet sauvignon. She took a sip, satisfied with the flavor, and looked back at Morgan.

“Despite, well, everything that you know about me, murder wasn’t always my go to method of dealing with marital issues, Morgan. Then again, we weren’t prone to marital problems before my passing,” Miriam said with a wry smile. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. “I know that. I know what he was. Being a spellcaster wasn’t the worst part of him.” Admitting it felt like sin, like a betrayal of the woman who had died wrapped around a tree with the knowledge that the only reason her husband had married her was because he needed to fund his coven. “I know that. But the mere thought of people practicing magic, the fact that they could still do it after everything that he did to me,” she felt fangs lengthen in her mouth, “it is impossible to stop myself.” She looked at Morgan, who she considered a friend, who she would have killed in their first meeting had she not enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, who she would probably kill know if her heart decided to reawaken in her chest and magic once more flow through her veins. “I came back improperly, a vampire who needs more suffering than she needs blood. I live with it, have lived with it for some time. It’s necessary because I could be starved for blood for decades, and I have been!” She did not remember her time in the mausoleum fondly, though she’d put herself there quite willingly. “The thirst for blood would be nothing compared to my need to cause suffering and pain to those that-- those that wronged me.” Magic wasn’t met for humans. It simply wasn’t. There had to be an understanding there, that they were only hurting themselves and others. She couldn’t be the only person scorned out there, desperately hunting for an atonement that didn’t seem to come. “I keep thinking that one day I’ll reach the peak, right? That I will have killed one, and it’ll be over. I thought I’d find that when I kill the last of Theo’s family.” She still sees Gilly’s aged but familiar face when she closes her eyes. Miriam downed the wine. “Didn’t fucking happen. Obviously.”

Morgan replied with an eye roll and a grimace. “Not all of us. Some of us have ‘sacred duties’ and shiny new enlightened principles that mean moving out and running away to live in an abandoned mansion where nothing bad can get us.” She recounted the thought with a mocking baby voice, bristling with bitter hurt. Maybe if more people were allowed to worry just about their local friends and communities, there would be a lot less strife. No duties, no higher bullshit. “But, you know, at least you are. I appreciate that about you, Mim.”

She watched Miriam’s posture, the shifts and guilt in her face as she admitted what Theo’s crimes weren’t. “You aren’t made wrong, Miriam. You deserve to be here as much as anyone else just the way you are. You’re just...a little stuck, I think. I mean, witches everywhere don’t know what he did to you. And I bet no small amount of them would support your leather jacket poetic justice. You know, if you left out the part where you think they shouldn’t exist because of him. We’re big on balance and using the will and agency the universe gave you. Making your way happen when circumstances say no.” She looked at Miriam sympathetically, hoping she registered how much her drive fell into that very witchy category. “Some people need to be dealt their suffering, for things they’ve actually done, Mim. And you haven’t been dead so long that there can’t be someone who did actually do something to you or someone you care about to take a hit or two.” She inched closer to the vampire, reaching out for her hand. “Hey--” her fingers brushed over Miriam’s. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You deserve more and better than tasting something hollow. Did you ever think that maybe it doesn’t feel good like the first one for a reason. And not because you’re cursed or anything awful like that. Because you’re not. Maybe you just need something different. Because it can’t stay like that, right? We can’t just be stuck starving for something that never comes. There’s gotta be something better.”

Blinking, Miriam said, “I won’t lie, you had me in the first half, but I don’t think that’s directed at me, is it?” Clearly, whatever was weighing on Morgan was truly getting to her, turning a woman that Miriam had only seen angry at Miriam or a ghost into someone that was actually quite bitter about things, life, unlife. It rubbed Miriam the wrong way, to see someone so blatantly optimistic using that tone, that nastiness. “Yes, well, that’s me, darling. Self-serving and comfortable enough with myself to admit it. It feels lovely to be appreciated for that.”

Ah, but there was the Morgan that Miriam knew, the optimistic one. And Miriam handled it the only way she knew how. Poorly. “Yes, yes, all things, creatures, and people are made with goodness and kindness, even if it is deep, deep down I’m not a broken monster, just a sad one that needs to get her head out of her ass and stop feeling sorry for herself.” She sighed. “If I’m stuck, then there’s really no way to not be, at this point. It’s what’s natural, now, being like this, doing these things. I don’t care that they aren’t him or that they might understand. They’ll all hurt someone, in the end, if they haven’t already. Can you, in complete and total honestly, tell me that your magic never harmed someone? Your family’s magic? The magic of any little spellcaster that you know?” She just wanted Morgan to see what she was saying, if only for a moment. “Can you? I don’t think you can.” She was careful not to pull away, though she went impossibly still at Morgan’s touch. “Maybe if I pretend that everyone I’m slaughtering is a spellcaster, then it’ll get better, right? Play pretend with my own head. Just drinking blood doesn’t help. That’s where the hollow feeling comes from, darling. It’s the other makes me feel sated, at least for a time.” Didn’t last, though, but surely that was to be expected. Hunger always came back. She just hated that this was the hunger she felt. Miriam pulled away, smiling tightly. “I need another drink. I don’t suppose you want another brain smoothie?”

Morgan’s face wrinkled with embarrassment. “Sorry. I’ve been...having a time with a friend. A no-longer-friend. I don’t know. But I didn’t mean to drag that in here like it was…” She sighed. “I don’t want to be a person who puts her shit on other people and hurts them for it. I’m sorry. I...still don’t know how to process everything. I don’t know how two people can be so similar and yet so painfully different.” Hearing herself, she smirked. “Well, maybe I do but at least you and I don’t actually think we’re on the same page when we’re not. But you’re welcome, for appreciating you for who you are.”

She should have expected Miriam to go stiff at her touch. Morgan didn’t know if it was because she was afraid of being treated tenderly by someone who actually believed in her, of the softness it might bring out in her, or if in the middle of dying and coming back, touch had become something to fear, but whatever the cause, of course Miriam would run from Morgan trying to reach her long enough to try and stop her. She let go of Miriam’s hand, but came around to her side of the table, sitting close. “I never said everyone was inherently anything. I don’t believe everyone is inherently anything. I think we all have potential for a lot of things. Even you. And given how much has happened to me in the last—almost a year, now? Even just the last six months since I died—I don’t recognize myself sometimes. Of course we can change.”

Morgan deflated at the insistence that she consider Miriam’s point. And went silent, trying to figure out if there was a way not to screw this up. “I have hurt people before. Me, Morgan. Because I’m almost forty and a person, Miriam. But it wasn’t my alchemy or any other magic. I said and did normal, awful things because I was angry or scared or stupid or all of the above. Sometimes, I gave someone what I thought they deserved, as payback. I melted the tires off the SUV of this rude, cruel customer at the store I worked at. I gaslit a mail thief in my apartment building. But magic is just energy, Mim. It just is. And I also saved my own life and made something to help protect my girlfriend and spare cash so I didn’t fall behind in my bills. I made jewelry and charms for my friends so they would know I cared. Magic is everything and nothing. It’s too complicated to be bad. People just...do bad things with it. Sometimes. Because they’re people.” She reached for Miriam’s hand as she seemed ready to flee, take a breather. “Mim! We might not be on the same page, but you can’t honestly say that you’re so different than anyone else held together by magic. We never were that different, even when I was alive, even if we weren’t on the same page.” She let go, slowly, already wondering if she’d overstepped. “I’m sorry, if I’m— I just feel like you don’t want to be this way as much as you say you do. If there’s something someone can do to help you try something else, maybe I’d like to.”

“I really don’t mind, if you want to talk about it.” Truthfully, if it would get Morgan off her ass, Miriam would talk about trivial friendship dramas. “People are kind of the worst, Morgan. They really are. But I can imagine how disheartening that could be. I think that you and I can see each other’s differences and similarities, now. And, hey,” she smirked, “I haven’t outright lied to you about anything since that night in the bar.” She should return the sentiment. That’s what people did. They appreciated each other, were sincere with each other. Miriam was not taught sincerity. Charms and good looks rarely needed that. “I appreciate you as well, I hope you know. I wasn’t expecting a friend in you. I wasn’t expecting friends, in general.”

Miriam sighed as Morgan got closer, but it wasn’t awful. She wouldn’t push away, wouldn’t tense up again. She waved Morgan off, though. “I know. I know. But that always seems to be implied. To be good. To be kind. I’m more than aware of the belief in balance. I married into a prominent coven that believed in potential and the ever changing path of time. Nothing is wholly good. Nothing is wholly evil. Until, of course, one starts murdering said prominent coven.” Theo’s mother had threatened her with fire before Miriam had finally killed her. “Then they are wholly evil.” She shook the images away, the thoughts, the rush of the kill. A part of her had enjoyed it. Miriam was by far the bitch’s least favorite in-law. She adopted a lighter tone. “Dead things don’t change. Not truly, not where it counts. I really don’t know how many times I have to tell you, darling.”

Clearly, Morgan wasn’t understanding what Miriam had to say. “Yes, you, Morgan, have hurt people. Did you just use your words, your fist, or can you say, without a shadow of doubt, that you’ve never used magic to harm another person?” Miriam raised an eyebrow. “I agree, wholeheartedly. Magic is just energy. It has no morality. It’s the people that are the problem. Humans. We, they, weren’t meant to have that sort of power because it ends up hurting someone eventually. It ends up being used poorly, as you’ve just pointed out. It can certainly be used for good things. I can’t tell you how many of Theo’s family gifts were helpful and beautiful. In the end, though, they still harmed people. They misused what they were given. Magic’s a weapon. One would never give a knife to a toddler, would they? It’s irresponsible. People are what makes magic bad, not magic itself.” The muscles in her wrists twitched under Morgan’s hand, but she didn’t move it. “I cannot control the magic within me, and neither can you, Morgan. It’s not the same. We cannot harness that power for good or bad things.” Miriam stretched out her fingers. “Don’t apologize. It’s useless. I understand what you’re saying, and I wish you could do the same.” She looked away. “I’ve tried other options, you know. I’ve tried to be a regular vampire. It simply doesn’t seem possible.”

“I’m not asking you to be a regular vampire,” Morgan replied. “I would never do that, it’s not like that, Mim. But I don’t believe that you were made, down to your core, to torment witches just for being here. I think that’s your hurt and your fear talking. And I’m not even fully convinced that you’ve tried feeding on kinds of pain and suffering besides the physical, or suffering that you didn’t cause. I mean, unless there’s something you’re not telling me. I don’t know what you mean by options. And even so, I think you don’t really want to be this way. I think you’ve just told yourself it’s hopeless so many times, you don’t know how to believe anything else. I think you wouldn’t sound so sad if this was what you really wanted.”

Morgan moved closer to Miriam, straining upwards to stare her in the eyes, searching for a sign of hesitation, of longing, of something that made her more than what she pretended to be. “Tell me the truth,” she said quietly. “Do you want there to be something more to living like this? Do you want things to be different? Because it doesn’t have to be hopeless, and you don’t have to resign yourself to being owned by the way you’ve lived your life for so long.” She reached up and grazed Miriam’s cheek with her fingertips, cupping her face gently enough that she barely felt it on her own skin at all. “We can change, Mim,” Morgan said softly. Sometimes it’s just a little harder for us, but we can make our lives different. And I could help you try, if you ever asked me to.”

“Well, I can’t seem to find sustenance out of torturing those that aren’t witches, so, really, Morgan, I don’t know what else to do.” Granted, Miriam rarely tried to torture others, was sickened at the mere thought of it, and other people didn’t feel her with the same sense of injustice and rage that spellcasters did. She gritted her teeth against Morgan’s monologuing, refusing to even admit that some of what the zombie was saying was true. But she had caused people emotional pain and suffering, and it had sustained her. Just tormenting with Morgan that first time had been a meal in and of itself, even without breaking the woman’s wrist. But it just wasn’t the same if it wasn’t spellcasters. It couldn’t be. A part of her didn’t want it to be. “I’ve tried not hurting people,” she said. “It didn’t work. And I tried to stop myself, the first time, and the second, and many times after that. It’s not possible. It’s just not possible.” It wasn’t. Miriam had a lot of willpower, but not when it came to that.

“What I want is to drop this line of conversation,” Miriam said, attempting to school her features into a smirk. She needed to distance herself from this, from these feelings. It was becoming blatantly obvious that arguing with Morgan was about the same with arguing with a wall, or a child. Neither of them would get anything out of it, in the end. Of course she wanted more than this, more than neverending hatred and anger. She was even finding ways around it, ways to enjoy herself with other people. But she did not have to worry about wanting to kill Evelyn or even Morgan anymore. She did not have to worry when she was working or when the sun was in the sky and she could not afford to worry. “I am not hopeless, and I cannot change, and I am in no mood to try, after all this time.” It would not do, to change now when there were still people alive that blamed her for all the death and destruction she caused. Miriam would do well to make sure she earned every ounce of blame thrown her way. She brushed Morgan’s fingers away, undesiring and more than a little afraid of the comfort, though she made sure to at least appear unaffected. “And I would not ask for your help, Morgan. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not see anymore of the judgement in your eyes than I already have to.”

“Miriam, please--” Morgan didn’t have it in her to cling to Miriam, but she rose up all the same. “It’s not like that. I’m trying to tell you I believe in you. I see you, the version of you that’s lost and doesn’t know what else there is besides what you’ve always done. And I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to be. You can try again, with help and resources, and it’ll be better than it was before. Maybe I just think you deserve a better existence than reliving their pain over and over! I mean someone does, right? And after all these years--why the hell not!” Morgan panted for breath out of words. She didn’t understand what it would take to get Miriam out of her defeatist pit, and there must be something, but she didn’t know what the magic words were. Slowly, she gathered her things from the table. “I care about you, Miriam. You just have to let me. Let someone.”

It was all Miriam could do to not narrow her eyes. She got it. She did. It did not need to be drilled any further into her skull. “And I do thank you for believing in me. I do. However, I am not quite sure you’re truly seeing me. You’re seeing what you want, or something ‘that’s lost,’ and not what’s actually in front of you.” She smiled, but it wasn’t nearly as sharp as she intended it. She had no real drive to lose her temper in front of the zombie, as much as Morgan was testing it. “Your desire to help me is noble and good, but I’m not particularly interested in going any further in this conversation, so either we drop it and attempt to enjoy the evening, maybe shift subjects to something besides my dietary needs, or we call it a night, hm?” She was closed off, now, done with this line of topic. She wouldn’t be bringing it up to Morgan any longer, either. Not the topic of food, or her past, or that nagging little ache in the back of her head that always seemed to come up when they talked about this. She softened. “I care about you, too, Morgan. That’s why I think we should drop this.” Please.

“Don’t worry,” Morgan mumbled, shouldering her bag. “I’m already leaving.” She hurried toward the nearest door but stopped short of stepping outside. “And it’s not your needs, Mim. You don’t need-- It’s what you’re willing to try. You’re worth more than this and--” And if Miriam hadn’t understood her five minutes ago, she wasn’t going to now. And maybe Morgan could explain how it burned to hear reduce witches, herself, down to the word diet like they were just brands of protein powder. How much harder that was to stomach after seeing Chloe in Lydia’s basement. “Dropping. Because you’re too afraid to handle this.” She grimaced, hating the sharpness coming into her own voice. She and Miriam were barely friends, how could they be when she couldn’t breathe a word about the Vurals to her? But she lingered in the doorway, aching at what felt like another loss, all the same. “I’ll let you know when my witch bitch is dead for real, I guess.”

“Really?” Miriam didn’t quite understand why Morgan leaving so abruptly was such a shock, but it was. She didn’t know what she’d expected. Of course they couldn’t have a relatively normal evening. Of course that was too much for a zombie and a vampire to contribute to the world. “You’re just going to-- Fine.” She knew she sounded petulant, childlike. Miriam had never been taught to handle not getting her way, and it showed every time something went poorly for her. This was no different. She bit the inside of her cheek, not even aware of how sharp her teeth were until she tasted her own bitter blood in her mouth. Her eyes were stinging a bit. She didn’t know why. “I am not afraid. This has nothing to do with fear. This is about-- about-- This isn’t about fear, goddammit.” Perhaps it was good Morgan was leaving, if she was going to cause Miriam to lose control of her words in such a way. “No matter,” she said sharply. She counted to ten, took a breath. Human things. Grounding things. She let the air in her lungs out as a low sigh. “I’ll still help you with your ghost problem, Morgan, and not simply because she was a witch. You just-- You know you only have to ask.” Then, she looked away. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Morgan’s eyes spilled over as Miriam spoke. “Well, I don’t know what else to do. You are being very clear and after--” Morgan’s voice broke. After Jasmine, after Nell, after Lydia, after Remmy (and stars above she had never counted on losing Remmy), Morgan’s world felt like it was shrinking back down to its lonely, cursed sphere. “I’m so tired of losing people I care about. Of course I want to help you, make something different for you. And it is fear. I’ve been in self denial before and I know that sometimes the only thing worse than being right about how miserable you are is the possibility that you didn’t have to be this whole time.” She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and straightened up. “If you ever decide taking on that fear is worth it, will you tell me? Ask me?”

“There is no fear,” Miriam said again, but she was far less certain this time around. Because she was afraid. Not of change. Change, probably, would be the easy part, if she really put effort into it, if she became hellbent on starving that darker part of herself. It would be the consequences that came with that change, the fact that she would have to apologize for everything she’d done, and that was…. Apologies for murder were not so readily accepted, and there were some consequences Miriam was not taught to deal with. That is to say that Miriam was not taught to deal with consequences of any sort. “I will reach out to you should I ever decide I want to change, but don’t waste your breath,” she muttered. “I’m comfortable not changing.” She turned away from the door and set about cleaning up her workspace instead. The prickling sensation behind her eyes wouldn’t go away. She didn’t know what to make of it because Miriam Flemming did not cry. Maybe she should just head back to Evelyn’s early; she obviously wasn’t going to get any work done.

“There’s always fear. And you can get comfortable with anything if it’s what you think you deserve, or all you think you’re allowed,” Morgan sniffled. “But it’s just not true. Whatever happens, you can have something more.” She lingered a moment longer, hoping that at any second Miriam might whirl around and say yes, I’ve changed my mind, help me stop, I don’t know how but I’ll try anything and stop. But for all her hope, that wasn’t something she’d be seeing tonight. She stepped outside and shut the door silently behind her.

#wr miriam #wr chatzy #wr miriam chatzy #wickedswriting

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years

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#cokehead!Alex #--I think that's my only tag for him My friend, we are kindred spirits. My main tag for that gorgeous disaster is #my favorite coked out dive bar slut. 💕 (Your background story for him gives me life, by the way. Cokehead, trust fund baby Alex is all I've ever needed.)

haha, buuuud, high five! He just gives off such a cokebaby vibe, honestly. What the hell is his instagram. In fact–let’s see–

—-

Warm today, in the sunshine. Alex stretches out, lazy, the lawnchair creaking under him. The pool’s tiny and honestly it’s been a long time since anyone cleaned it, but he’s considering a dip, anyway. He licks his lips, looking at the empty blue sky. No clouds, except the big blue cloud. Warm, and he can feel the warm on his lips, and in the silky inside of his cheek while he tongues slowly against it. He chews the inside of his mouth, contemplative, eyes unseeing, and thinks about the water. How it’ll be cool, and the dead leaves will stick to his arms, and how he could sit on the bottom and brush his hands against the silty dirt and watch it bloom up in brown clouds. There’d be clouds. That’d be cool.

“Hey there,” someone says, and Alex blinks at the sky, and wonders. “Darling, I’m not God, I’m not up in the sky. You’ll have to turn your head.”

Oh. Alex turns his head. A–man. Older, grey in his beard, and a Dodgers cap faded blue over his dark hair, and sunglasses. Leaning on the chain-link gate, smiling at him. “Hey there, beautiful,” the guy says, and Alex smiles back, turns on his side.

“Hi,” he says. Oh. That was hard, to say. He says it again, hi, and again, and the man raises his eyebrows so they can be seen over the top of the sunglasses, and laughs soft. That’s a nice sound. Alex licks his lips again, tips his own sunglasses down on his nose. The world washes out whiter, but he feels like it helps him concentrate. “Hi,” he says, again, and the guy nods.

“Hello,” he says, and then tilts his head toward the house. “You a friend of the boys?”

Boys–oh. Jared and Jensen. “I live here now,” he says, and he thinks–yeah. That’s true. He gave them a stack of money and they said he could stay as long as he wanted. “Do you live here too?”

He wouldn’t mind if that were so. The man shakes his head, though, grinning. “No, we can’t all be that lucky.” He reaches down, and unlatches the gate. Alex watches him, lazy. “What are you doing down in Lincoln Heights, beautiful? You’ve got Trousdale all over you.”

He walks across the crunchy grass, and Alex watches him, and then he’s standing right there at the end of the chair, and Alex watches him. Handsome. Smells like–mm. “My parents live in Carbon Mesa,” Alex says, belatedly, and the guy nods, serious, but still with his mouth turned up at the corners. What a great smile. “Your smile is pretty,” he says. He stretches out again, arms over his head, and sighs. “You should smile a lot.”

It gets wider. “Oh, I do,” the guy says, and sits down by Alex’s bare feet, and smiles, and smiles. “I was coming to make a delivery to the boys, but I’m glad I met you. What’d you take, honey?”

“Oh,” Alex says, shrugging. “You know.”

The sky’s still so big. The man puts his hand on Alex’s calf, and it’s warm, and big too. “Sure I do,” he says, easy. “Well. I help out Jared and Jensen with getting things they need, and I could help you out, too. You just say the word, all right?” With his other hand he takes a card out of his front shirt pocket, and holds it out for Alex to take, which he does, after a minute of just looking. James David Morrison, it says, when he can get his eyes to focus on it. Accountant. He raises his eyebrows, looking this guy up and down. “You’re an accountant?”

Big grin. White teeth, and his beard. Alex wants to touch it–and does, sitting up, feeling the prickle of it under his fingers. Oh–oh, it feels–so good. “Call me JD,” the man says, letting Alex do it, and squeezes his calf. “And I can do all sorts of things. You just let me know, beautiful, and I’ll make it so. Capiche?”

“Capisce,” Alex says, pronouncing it correctly, and JD laughs soft again, and catches his hand, and kisses his fingertips. Alex curls his finger, gets an impression of the wet inside, and JD slides his hand up Alex’s thigh to where his swim-shorts end and squeezes again, firm. Alex blinks, breathes. Feels so good.

JD sighs. “You’re going to be hell on my composure, darling,” he says, and kisses Alex’s knuckles again before he stands up. “I was going to say, tell the boys I stopped by, but I don’t think you’ll remember. I’ll try to stop by when they’re not filming. In the meantime–you want anything else to make you this happy again, you just call that number.” He nods at the card, still in Alex’s fingers, and Alex nods back, serious. Another smile. “All right, then. See you around, honey.”

He tips his fingers to the brim of his cap, saluting, and then walks off. Alex watches him go–oh, lean hips, and his shoulders, as he closes the gate again, as he waves. Hm. Alex puts his fingers in his mouth, tastes, but can’t tell if it’s his own salt or JD’s lips. Worth figuring out, sometime. There are so many things he wants–but for now, he sighs, and lays back on the lawn chair. Maybe JD would come swimming with him, sometime. He’ll have to ask Jensen if he thinks so. For now–the sky’s just so blue.

#cokehead!alex #my writing #i have no earthly idea how to tag this #jeff/alex #is that a tag??#well it fuckin should be #i guess to be clear i'm still thinking alex is--like 22 or so #just a rudderless trustfund gay who likes chemicals and dick #and really we should all be so lucky #wincestismyguiltypleasure

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s-j-ace · 4 years

Text

The Same Question

Chapter Three

Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi

Words: 3360

Summary:

After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief do what he does?

This is Chapter Three, Here are Chapters One and Two

Read on AO3

[Log of Text Messages from Kaede Akamatsu’s Cellular Device]

From: Me

Hey Shuichi! How's it going? I haven't heard from you in a while. I keep forgetting I'm a human person and not a piano machine while I'm on this tour lol.

From: Shuichi! :D

Hi Kaede! I'm sorry! I forgot to check in on how your tour is going, probably because I've been kind of busy myself. How are you?

From: Me

No need to apologize silly

I'm doing ok

Just craving human interaction that isn't a graceful hand shake or an approving nod rn

Hey if you've been busy that means you're working another case, right?

From: Shuichi! :D

Haha yeah I guess.

Or at least I'm trying.

From: Me

👀

You wanna talk about it or is this one still top secret?

From: Shuichi! :D

Well

I guess there's no client or victim to protect with this one

And there's nothing really stopping me from talking about it

But it's not that interesting to be honest.

From: Me

You're talking to a girl who is on her phone rn to avoid playing hoity toity with a bunch of rich people who like dressing up fancy more than they actually appreciate music :///

Anything is an improvement tbh

From: Shuichi! :D

Haha ok

Well

So like I've been tracking some thieves for a while now.

From: Me

Oooh is this like the Novoselic case?

From: Shuichi! :D

No it's more like a series of robberies than one big robbery.

From: Me

The intrigue,,, 😲😲🤔🤔

From: Shuichi! :D

Anyway it's just a group of thieves

They just robbed this casino and it's a little frustrating

Because I looked at the security tapes and they just kind of…

Walked in…

And the thing about these guys is that they all dress up like clowns

So like it’s literally just eight clowns on the security tape coming in and picking things up and leaving and there’s other people in these videos but no one even looks at them twice????

From: Me

Ffff that’s pretty funny…

From: Shuichi! :D

Hmm.. I’d probably have found it more funny if the owner of the casino hadn’t been crying and shaking me while I watched it. They dropped one of the chandeliers on his car or something.

From: Me

What??? Chandeliers????

From: Shuichi! :D

Yeah, the boss clown dangled these chandeliers off the side of the roof to distract me while these rare videogames were being stolen. Then he broke them when he thought his crew could get away.

From: Me

How is that not interesting??? That’s super intense Shuichi!! It makes me want to play movement three of Moonlight Sonata...

From: Shuichi! :D

Is that the really fast one

From: Me

Yes!!! :DDD

I’ll make a melomaniac of you yet!

From: Shuichi! :D

Does this mean you’ll stop making fun of me for getting a C in music appreciation senior year

From: Me

Oh yeah the real reason we broke up lol

From Shuichi! :D

Haha yeah.

Uh, anyway. With the thieves.

I know they're going to land in Cairo in a few days but I don't know what they're stealing.

From: Me

Hey! Rantarou's going to Cairo tomorrow!

You want me to see if I can get you a ride on his jet?

From: Shuichi! :D

Oh no you don't have to do that

From: Me

Yeah, but I'm going to

Unless you really don't want me to but I think that you do so...

From: Shuichi! :D

I dunno

That would be very nice

I'm a little low on a travel budget and I'm in Reno Nevada right now

From: Me

Oh huh where's that

From: Shuichi! :D

In America, like eleven hours away from where you are

From: Me

So? Rantarou's a trust fund baby he could afford the detour

From: Shuichi! :D

Yeah but also like

I'm pretty sure he hates me?

From: Me

Whaaaaat

Rantarou doesn't hate you

Last time you saw him you literally helped him track down all twelve of his missing sisters

From: Shuichi! :D

Yeah but I just get the vibe that he doesn't like me

From: Me

Shuichi you have social anxiety

---

From: Me

Hey you don't hate my friend Shuichi do you

From: Avocado Hair

Hmmm…

I don’t want to be mean

From: Me

Yeah you don’t >:/

From: Avocado Hair

But I thought he was a little suspicious when I first met him…

Don’t get me wrong, Shuichi’s nice and seems reliable enough

But also he’s your ex and I don’t trust exes of my friends just on principle

From: Me

...

From: Avocado Hair

Listen obviously I think Shuichi is cool now

But also it was kind of sus when he was just creeping around your shows without introducing himself…

From: Me

I invited him to those! >>:0000

From: Avocado Hair

Yeah, I know that now

He’s a nice guy alright? Really, I do owe him one

Or twelve hah

From: Me

Great! You’re picking him up from Nevada tomorrow

From: Avocado Hair

I'm doing what now

From: Me

From: Avocado Hair

So Nevada, huh?

---

From: Shuichi! :D

Yeah but also sometimes I'm right when I think people hate me

Having social anxiety does not make that not true

From: Me

I set everything up :)) he says you're a cool guy and he'll call you when he lands in Reno

From: Shuichi! :D

That's very nice of him

From: Me

Shuichi Rantarou owes you like 12 life debts

From: Shuichi

Finding missing persons is my job, it’s hardly something to owe a life over

From: Me

Shuichi it was 12 missing persons

My mans Avocado lost track of twelve whole sisters and you found all of them and now you think he's capable of hate??? smh 😔

From: Shuichi! :D

I'm sorry okay?

From: Me

You don’t need to be!!!

---

Shuichi Saihara found himself, one week after the heist in Reno, on practically the other side of the world. He was blending in with the scattered crowd of tourists circling around the new exhibit at The Museum of Egyptian Antiquities in Cairo, Egypt. As he looked into the wide-eyed, gilden face of a newly dug up sarcophagus, Shuichi struggled to convince himself that this wasn’t a complete waste of time. Interpol and the Boulaq Police Department certainly seemed to think it was...

Back in Paris, Interpol hadn’t ended up giving Shuichi access to DICE’s next encrypted letter of intent. Instead, after Shuichi gave his testimony to the Paris Police and the investigation was essentially wrapped up, it seemed like Agent Kiyotaka Ishimaru decided to make an appearance just to have the pleasure of yelling at Shuichi about how many protocols he would've just broken if he were actually beholden to the employment of any law enforcement agency.

… okay that wasn't a fair characterization of Agent Ishimaru. He was a nice enough guy. He just wasn't as disillusioned with the authoritarian reality of national militias given power by systems of government forged when people still thought eating your own vomit cured smallpox. One time he gave Shuichi a juice box, and some cookies his husband made, before chewing him out, so that was pretty nice. Although maybe that was only because Shuichi had just gotten lightly stabbed by an internationally wanted drug dealer…

Regardless, Agent Ishimaru was far from pleased that Shuichi was “performing acts of covert vigilantism again,” despite the fact that Shuichi had absolutely no idea DICE was even on the flight and therefore his reactionary investigation didn’t include anything illegal, such as stalking, that would be classified as unlawful vigilantism without the backing of the appropriate law enforcement agencies.

When Agent Ishimaru was done giving a speech about Shuichi’s naivete, he ordered him to get off the case. Luckily for Shuichi the Paris Police thought he was with interpol because of this exchange, and they let him look at security tapes and flight records from the two closest airports. He’d been able to deduce their arrival at Reno, but wasn’t able to figure out what DICE’s mark would be until the heist was already under way. He’d just barely been able to stop them from stealing every single vintage game console from the Silver Legacy Resort.

After looking at tapes from the Reno-Tahoe International airport too, Shuichi had been able to deduce DICE’s next destination was Egypt, but Egypt was a country and had a lot more national landmarks than Nevada did and honestly Shuichi didn’t even know where to start looking for possible burgleables. Rantarou, a friend of Kaede's who was nice enough to give Shuichi a ride to Cairo, had asked him to check out the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities first.

Apparently Rantarou's family could trace parts of their bloodline back to old money European families which had partaken in the awful rich people trend of the 16th century where they would just rob graves in Egypt and eat parts of mummies. As a result, they had a bunch of artifacts that didn't belong to them, so Rantarou often made trips to Egypt to return as many as he could. Right now a lot of those artifacts were getting packaged to be shipped to the Grand Egyptian Museum in Giza, because the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities was due to be superseded by it next year. He was off somewhere mixing with Museum staff while Shuichi took stock of all the possible entrances around the exhibit.

The museum was rather crowded, and as a couple walked up behind him, Shuichi suddenly felt that he was very obviously blocking the view of the sarcophagus display he was in front of. He muttered an apology and moved away, turning around to look at a vase closer to the corner rather than the center of the room. Like most of the artifacts on display it was in a glass case, which Shuichi had noticed seemed to be of the make and model of the kind rigged up to a silent alarm system of some sort. If the cases were opened, the guards in the security booth near the front of the museum would most likely be notified. Although, the exhibit pieces in the cases themselves didn’t seem of much note to Shuichi. There were, of course, priceless artifacts held up on stands or splayed out on ornately embroidered mini-rugs inside the cases, but none of it quite seemed to fit DICE’s MO. Maybe he could look into the other exhi...bits….

Shuichi’s train of thought trailed off as he noticed that on the other side of the vase he was looking at stood a young woman in a headscarf who he could tell was giving him a weird look.

Shuichi’s inner voice made a noise that would have sounded like, “Hghhhhhh” if he were speaking out loud.

Was he in front of something again? Did he have something on his face?

Okay maybe she wasn’t looking at him and he was just being weird.

His gaze flitted up to momentarily take in the heavily makeuped face and he instantly found himself locking eyes with the very familiar dark purple irises of a complete stranger.

Shuichi did a double take as he realized that this was not, in fact, a young woman.

Wait, did he really know that? Maybe he had just assumed the thief was a guy. Shuichi squinted. How do you ask an internationally wanted thief their pronouns?

“What pronouns do you use?” Ah okay, like that. Thanks for nothing internal filter.

“His majesty/His imperial highness,” The thief replied automatically as if he already knew what Shuichi was going to ask them and had remarks prepared. “Rat/rat bastard are also acceptable.”

Shuichi took that to mean that the thief wouldn’t be offended if he referred to him with masculine terms. Ugh, wait what where was his head at right now?

Shuichi began to maneuver around the vase to apprehend him, but as he moved the thief moved at the same time, so it ended up looking like they were playing ring around the rosey with the vase display.

Shuichi stopped. The thief stopped too.

He started going around the other direction. So did he.

They stopped again.

While maintaining eye contact, Shuichi attempted to discreetly move his hand into his pocket so that he could text Rantarou that a robbery was definitely happening right now. He had gotten pretty good at typing on his phone without looking, but as he slipped his hands in his pocket the thief’s eyes followed.

If he considered that Shuichi might have been reaching for a weapon, he sure didn’t look it. The man’s posture was relaxed and as he watched the grin on his face widened impossibly.

“Is that a phone in your pocket that you’re using to discreetly notify the authorities of my presence, or are you just happy to see me?”

Uh.

Shuichi sent the text -- he had managed to type out a simple “HELP” to his most recent contact, which was probably Rantarou -- and quickly pulled his hands out of his pocket. He maneuvered them instead into a placating gesture, glancing around at the trickle of visitors wandering through the exhibits around them.

“I… Don’t want to cause any unnecessary alarm…” Shuichi started to say as he tried to think of any way to de-escalate this conversation.

“Oh, trust me,” The thief began in an earnest tone that Shuichi definitely knew not to trust. “Neither do I.”

Suddenly, the glass case lifted up and Shuichi realized the thief had somehow managed to pick the display case lock during their impromptu round of ring around the rosey. Which hopefully set off an alarm of some sort?

Yet as Shuichi glanced around he couldn’t spot any form of security in between tourists, none of whom seemed to see what was happening. Or maybe it didn’t register as suspicious to them?

It certainly registered suspicious to Shuichi, who was now looking directly at the thief’s heavily makeuped face. He didn’t look anything like the first time Shuichi saw him, except for the facial expression that seemed to indicate he could just decide to pull out a knife or jump off an airplane at any moment. Shuichi had only a moment to connect this expression to that of the black and white cat that kept knocking over the potted plants on Kaito and Maki’s balcony before the thief’s hand was raised and already coming down on the ancient vase. The priceless artifact took a nosedive off its display pedestal, and Shuichi dove to catch it.

Thankfully, Shuichi managed to grab the vase out of the air in the nick of time, just careful enough to prevent it from shattering into a million pieces on the floor. Not so thankfully, Shuichi was the one who fell on the floor instead. He hit the ground, but hey! At least the vase was fine! Then again the natural oils on his hands probably weren’t especially helpful in the grand scheme of the artifact’s preservation…

Shuichi moved to stand up, but froze as he realized that every eye on the room was on him.

Uh. Okay. Time to. Not. Freak out about that. Yep.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit they were all looking at him what if they thought he was-

Wait. Where did DICE go?

Shuichi heard a loud, sharp sound, and turned instinctively. He found that the thief had stepped behind him at some point, and had backed up to blend in with the rest of the crowd. As the sharp sound repeated, Shuichi came to the realization that the thief masquerading as a young girl had clapped. And now the man behind him was clapping to, and the woman behind him, and the lady behind her and almost instantaneously Shuichi came to the realization that the whole room was clapping, and that it was a distraction. As the clapping continued, the thief stood still as curious museumgoers pushed forward in the crowd to figure out what was going on in this corner of the display.

The thief was disappearing from view. Now was his chance.

In the brief instant Shuichi and the thief locked eyes, the detective saw his challenge. That it was not only a challenge, but a question.

Will you drop everything to chase after me?

He had to make the decision now.

Shuichi chose to stand up to his full height and turned to place the vase safely back into the display case, closing it back up.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake he made in Reno, chasing after the man whose face he knew rather than keeping in mind the nine other just as capable operatives. He was starting to learn that DICE always seemed to take two steps ahead, and that if Shuichi wanted to do something it was most likely something that would benefit their plans. So he resisted the single-minded urge to chase the thief in to instead take the preventative measure of scanning the nearby displays for anyone trying to take advantage of the distracted crowd.

He didn’t even watch as the thief disappeared into the crowd, and instead pulled out his phone.

Rantarou had replied very helpfully to his “HELP” text with a carefully chosen one word reply.

---

[Log of Text Messages from Shuichi Saihara’s Cellular Device]

From: Rantarou Amami

What

From: Me

Sorry

Don’t panic

But I am fairly certain that this museum has just been robbed

From: Rantarou Amami

...

what

From: Me

It’s a lot to explain

From: Rantarou Amami

Just call me

You were in a call with Rantarou Amami that lasted 38:56.04

From: Rantarou Amami

Hey is that interpol guy done yelling at you yet

From: Me

Oh geez

Did you hear all that?

From: Rantarou Amami

I mean like

I got the gist of it

And the gist of it seemed to be

“Shuichi! Stop being such a good detective! You’re making me look bad!”

From: Me

Oh haha

I guess that was something along the general theme

I’m not really a better detective than him though

He’s just the kind of guy whose like

RULES NEED TO BE FOLLOWED BECAUSE I DO NOT QUESTION AUTHORITY

But also I think his husband is like in a biker gang or something

From: Rantarou Amami

Come on Shuichi give yourself some more credit there

If you’re not a good detective that means that at best I’m an awful one

You found twelve missing people in one week who I had been searching for for five years

Also you literally just stopped a museum robbery

From: Me

Oh, sorry I don’t mean to be like weirdly self deprecating

But also I would contest the fact that I stopped a museum robbery with the evidence of the fact that the museum definitely still got robbed

From: Rantarou Amami

Yeah but like

The only part of the museum that didn’t get the carpets stolen from it was the room you were in

Which literally had the most valuable rug in the whole building in it

Like seriously even the carpet built into the floor of the gift shop was stolen

Also you saved that vase

One of the anthropologists here almost cried when he saw that girl push it over in the tape

From: Me

That is weird isn’t it

I think the rug being an actual exhibit might’ve been why DICE didn’t go for it

That’s not their typical MO

From: Rantarou Amami

Wow… that compliment dodge tho…

From: Me

Sorry

From: Rantarou Amami

You’re good man

Hey do you need a ride back to the hotel

Shuichi?

Hello?

…

From: Me

Oh sorry, I was doing some research

I can get back to the hotel on my own

From: Rantarou Amami

Ok, cool

From: Rantarou Amami

Hey just checking in again, did you get back to your room okay?

From: Me

Oh, yes I’m here

Actually I was just about to text you too

I’m sorry to ask so much of you Amami

But could you possibly drop me off in Taipei on your way home tomorrow?

#shuichi x kokichi #shuichi saihara #shuichi danganronpa #kokichi ouma #kokichi danganronpa #oumasai #saiouma #fanfiction #Phantom Thief AU #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa #writing #This is later than I said I would post it but I know most people read these at 2 am anyway

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kissmethroughthebone · 5 years

Text

"I'm not like other girls, I don't need an allowance from my man" headass SB

"He doesn't like girls who use sugaring for financial gain or to rise up in society 💅💫"

...yeah, babe, so of course the man with two daughters older than you LOVES the fact that you fucked him at his house, TWO DAYS AND NIGHTS IN A ROW, and all you asked for out of him was a subway sandwich anf his wine cabinet.

.....

My only time EVER having a "fuck me just for fast food" phase, was with FWBs who I literally had no interest in, and, when I never had entered the bowl, nor knew of many places outside of Burger King and Chipotle for their broke asses to get me food from, so. :) thats on that.

And so imagine me, a year later, with experience and knowledge of making men old and young buy me things, clothes, food, gifts, ubers, car trips, anything in the world, and with my ass sitting pretty in the most expensive hotel in all of the city, and 400 dollars richer with pork roast and more in my stomach...

Teaching a newbie SB about the bowl.

And all the advice, tips, about manifesting her goals, funding her schooling, abstaining from sex right off the bat, meeting in public, safety advice, what to look for and avoid....

All that.

Anything you could think of, I fucking told her that.

And she.

Fucked.

Immediately.

.....

Met him at his house at 10pm for the "first date"...... stupid bitch. Strike one, but her not listening to the valuable advice of "dont go to his house, he could kill you or just hit it and dip" was telling enough of how she had viewed our friendship.

Then she saw he put out a *fruit platter* for her.

Nice..... but then didn't serve her dinner.

Smoked her out. Fine, you got weed. Cool...

And maybe an hour or two into them "really clicking", a.k.a. probably her talking while stoned and him just nodding everything on to be fucking polite... she takes him by the hand, leads him into the bedroom and fucks him totally unprovoked.

OH WOW, SIS.

I know some sugar babies still get an allowance or arrangement even after still having sex, but jesus.......

Then he left for work, and let her stay at his place. Fucked again. He gave her a subway sandwich, not even a footlong, since she "wasnt all that hungry"...

1) Cool, so she didnt even get a dinner out of it.

2) She's been rewarded for dick with half of a footlong, (NOT EVEN A FULL ONE SIS HE HAS THE MONEY AND YOU WOULD BE HUNGRY LATER????,) and with all the liquor in his cabinets. That she chugged most of the morning and night, before going "But I'm not really all that into drinking, anyways", while chugging a vodka + white wine + other intense alcohol concoction she whipped up over Instagram Chat.

And..... I was pissed. :)

And 3) She never discussed an allowance before meeting.

.....

You can imagine the screams I have, deep in my soul, after maybe four hours or MORE of straight up teaching her all I know.

Then when I told her I was disappointed in her not taking my advice, she hit me with the Pick Me level shit.

"He doesn't want a girl who uses sugaring for financial gain or social status!"..... so, hes broke, and/or you're dating a sugar daddy that won't give sugar? I hope your hands get soft from all the exfoliation caused by the rock you're trying to cause to bleed, that shit wont work sis.

"I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. Trust me, I know a bad situation when I see one, and THAT wasnt one!".... Sure, a 50 year old pathetic college professor with a slim body doesnt terrify you, but a pathetic college professor can get preeeeetty scary when he roofies and rapes you. But, she wasnt thinking that far ahead if she walked to a random mans house, in the skimpiest clothes ever, at the dead of night while claiming nothing bad would happen and she would not fuck him....

Even if nothing too terrible did, something couldve. If the thing of "i wont fuck him dont worry" did happen and she didnt think shed do it before meeting him, imagine what else she didnt think would happen could've happened....

And just several rants of her saying her intuition would tell her.

.....

I sympathized; she had been in several abusive relationships with terrible men, and wass most recently dumped by some fuckhead who was grooming her.

So the attention of an older man giving her free booze of a big selection, some pretty bomb dick, and letting her sleep over and giving her fruit???? Totally head above heels, when the bar is literally just "be white, and treat me somewhat human, even if it's rooted in selfish acts", and even her last neckbeard boyfriend from discord had her convinced that he was "the best thing to ever happen to her in life".

And.... the one that struck me the most, was the remark of "using men for financial gain" part.

I knew I had an off vibe about her when she was deadpanning and rolling her eyes hearing how good I had it anywhere in my life; but ESPECIALLY with sugaring. (Or an open relationship with two hot guys who treated me right, but alas, she could barely even find one for her.)

And yet once she got single, she was begginggggg to hear how I did it.

And... more signs came that she was interested in the fantasy and not the reality, or sometimes vice versa.

Rolling her eyes when I told her that a 25 dollar weekly allowance was so fucking low.

When I told her that anything she wanted, even a rose gold Apple Watch and a new laptop, an apartment, or whatever she wanted, could be at her fingertips if she plays all her cards right.

When I gave her safety advice.

When I told her about my life.

Anything.

She had been either repulsed, doubtful, disdainful, or nonplussed about it.

And look whar happened....

An old man was shown he could fuck a thick black girl for two to three days, nonstop, for a single subway sandwich.

What a shame.

Thats fucking sad my dudes.

Aaaaand her overall subtle hating on me showed its ass when she said what he said.

So I'M the bad guy, for actually expecting a sugar daddy to do what he says, and knows enough to know that sex too soon wont end well?

So she's gonna hate on me for caring about HER safety and not wanting her to ignore every safety precaution advised?

That's like being mad at a construction site owner for wanting you to wear a hard hat, and your reasoning being "I MISSED THE HUGE ROCK FALLING DOWN, ITS NO BIG DEAL! I TRUST MY INSTINCTS, JESUS CHRIST".

Plus, it did strike a cord.

But I just thought:

Yes, I do want a successful future.

I want rich babies, a funded college education, an apartment and a lifestyle of my own to support.

And most importantly, my fucking heart to keep beating.

So excuse me if a girl wastes my time and hers, by not taking my advice and risking her life all for the sake of a Subway sandwich, and not funding for a huge life of her dreams, and just for a subpar meal for one night.

I know how to flip my future from his shitty bunk bed, to a life of champagne and caviar.

And she knows how to flip her life from wanting to be a successful sugar baby that supposedly makes enough money to move out with me, buy groceries, and have a potentially funded college......

To..... a subway sandwich and an alcohol problem, and a number, that blocks her days after having sex.

......

I was done with her.

I never thought there'd be girls insecure enough to stoop that low.

Low enough to shun another girl, who does the same thing and gets a thousand times more thsn she does.

#black sugar baby #pick mes #sugaring #sb #sbs #yikes

29 notes · View notes

nochiquinn · 4 years

Text

labn s4e1: nobody wins in a headbutt

[insulin fund]

I forgot I was gonna do this but: this whole conversation is gay

the true character development: the jacket is clean

"fires and stuff!" "tremere shit!"

this will end badly

ooh, lighting change

"cobalt blue" suspicious squint eye emoji

literally what did you expect annabelle

"special k" sdfjsld;

micaaaa

no twitch stop fucking up

"daddy victor" wheezi ng

not sure if should trust

delilah you're gonna break annabelle

YOU JUST MADE THE LIST

annabelle don't encourage that

it he

twitch

annabelle's face

it HE

don't give carver a glass bottle

this is just a carver roast

"how long have YOU been an asshole"

okay voomer

the magic word is "now"

kyoko no

big al swearengen vibes off carver rn

we lp

dislike

oh well shit

gay fear

“it’s a truce that doesn’t mean I have to be polite”

"have you seen my brother" "not since we killed him"

oh shoot I took too long making tea

taliesin's jacket is very noisy

well that's one way

"I'm gonna smash the bottle into your face" "cool!"

"take it in the face"

"just for fun"

carver can have little a headbutt. as a treat.

I always picture Daunt as the winter soldier walk

hunger guy

annabelle can also have little a headbutt

"if he wants to throw hands" throw heads

erika's face @ "throw the fire"

nobody likes carver, canon

annabelle you’ve met him what do you think

yeah she fucking knows

y’all hurry up I have to check a baby’s blood sugar

all I can think about is that post about how bisexuals communicate with fingerguns, salutes and peace signs

“I lied please don’t ever speak to me again”

gay

“what do you want” “shut up” I too usually want this from victor

baron nelli g

#la by night #labn #liveblog #reaction post #I never caught up on the last two seasons don't @ me when I'm blatantly wrong #I'll figure it out eventually

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interludcs · 4 years

Text

BENEDETTA PORCAROLI , CIS FEMALE , SHE / HER → according to the school records , GIOVANNA ELOISA ARGENTI has been attending sacred heart for the past two years . i last saw them hanging around stan's place ; i think they were tying cherry stems into knots . at twenty - one , gio has been studying classics and get this , i heard that her bloodline has long been cursed to succumb to inevitable madness and it’s been the cause of many mysterious deaths in the family already — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with biting into an apple only to realize it’s rotten , a bloody nose dripping onto silk stockings , and the distorted screech of a violin coming from another room . in the time since these strange happenings , they have encountered unexplained occurrences .

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ QUICK STATS !

full name : giovanna eloisa argenti

nickname(s) : gio , gigi ( although she likes to think she outgrew it )

zodiac : scorpio sun , gemini moon ( click ! )

sexuality : bisexual .

occupation : student & heiress .

birthplace : rome , italy .

current residence : sacred heart academy .

pinterest : ( click ! )

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ BACKSTORY ! ( tw : depression , murder , suicide & drug abuse )

born in 1953 to one of the wealthiest families in italy ! the argenti's posses a ridiculous and tbh kinda disgusting fortune because of their distant ties to the old italian monarchy ... and are also long rumored to have been cursed hundreds of years ago as divine punishment for the sins of a past family member .

the family has a long and gruesome history — good husbands turning into killers , more than one argenti woman flinging herself off one of the many balconies in the family estate , children who hear voices in the night . more often than people care to count , these fits of madness are seemingly inexplicable .

giovanna was born on chilly autumn night . she would be her mother’s first and last child , but lucianna argenti saw her baby girl as anything but a miracle . when she was only five months old , a nanny discovered the woman trying to drown giovanna in the bathtub , stuck in a trance she’d later have no recollection of being in . long in denial of the family curse , marco argenti hired nearly every notable doctor in italy , but none of them could find a sound explanation for the violent and nonsensical trances his wife would experience for the next three years before ultimately taking her own life .

leaving giovanna to grow up all alone in the too big family estate at the hands of nannies , marco argenti would spend the better years of his only daughter’s life traveling all around europe , desperate to shake the ghost of his wife , but never succeeding .

despite all the tragedy early on in gio’s life , she had an almost typical upbringing for someone in her socioeconomic circle . a childhood devoid of the love her parents were supposed to give , nannies who gave in to the rotten demands only a wealthy child and sole heir could conjure up , a house that never felt like a home .

by the time she was a teenager , gio had grown up to be a different kind of monster — not the madwomen her classmates would snicker about when speaking ill of the blood that flowed through her veins , but something perhaps more dangerous , a selfish girl too clever and too beautiful for her own good .

on the eve of her 18th birthday her father makes his grand return home , gone so long he mistakes his daughter for a maid before a groundskeeper politely informs him of his mistake . causing more tension still was the brand new gold band on his ring finger , as well as the announcement that he’s selling the estate , and that gio’s to come live with his new wife and three small children in france .

the day giovanna argenti turns 18 is a day she can no longer remember save for waking up in the remnants of a burnt down home , ash caked underneath her fingernails , smoke burning her lungs . servants who have been loyal to the argenti family for decades will later testify that there had been a terrible accident lighting the birthday cake that night , that marco argenti had never returned home the night before , and that the family of four in paris crying murder were nothing but scammers after the family fortune .

gio spends the next year scrambling to piece together the mysterious events , a tiny voice inside her head insisting something wasn’t right with the story she’d been fed by the people who raised her , albeit confused as to why they’d hide the truth if something sinister had indeed happened that night . she could have sworn the memory of her father coming home was a real one — until she gets a letter in the mail , signed marco argenti , polaroid attached , a blurry shot of a man who bears the family resemblance standing in front of the statue of liberty .

cue the drug abuse ( coke being her poison of choice ) , the reckless and dangerous stunts all in the name of having a good time , the mind numbing sex with strangers . heart heavy with the idea that she was indeed going insane , following in the footsteps of all the argenti’s that had come before her , giovanna was left with the haunting sensation that her life was already doomed , and so she might as well make the most of it . on the flip side of this she also came to the realization that she could pretty much .... do whatever she wanted and get away with it ? people already thought she was cursed and crazy ... might as well act the part ... a little self fulfilling prophecy ... as a treat <3

in a feeble attempt to save her from an untimely and rather stupid demise , she is shipped off to sacred heart academy , a place a distant cousin once attended . mind clouded by addiction and unresolved trauma alike , giovanna can’t be sure the strange happenings at sacred heart are real at all or just a product of a dark and overactive imagination .

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ PERSONALITY + TIDBITS !

first & foremost ... gio was inspired loosely by some sexy women including miss effy stonem from skins , choi sooji from tempted , ludo from baby , villanelle from killing eve & lady macbeth minus the murder ( ... unless ? 😏 ) , as well as more lana del rey songs than i care to admit so we won’t be talking about it aha x

yes what i’m trying to say is she’s a little unhinged ... but in that fun sexy way like when amy dunne gives the cool girl speech in gone girl .

speaking of cool girls ... gio is one 😌 you would think growing up with a last name that’s literally famous for being cursed would have put a bigger damper on her popularity among people but there’s a certain fascination gio holds and she knows it . this isn’t to say she’s got a lot of friends because she definitely doesn’t , she just knows how to get people’s attention .

at her core she is clever , charming , everything someone who grew up with money is bound to be . but unlike the selfishness of other trust fund babies , gio’s operates on a different scale . she’s self obsessed , not because she views herself as better than anyone else , but because she’s so haunted by the idea that something terrible and wicked exists inside of her and it’s only a matter of time before darkness takes over .

in an effort to counter that weight , she breezes through life without taking much seriously . toying with people , the mind games she plays , it’s all an effort to distract herself , to entertain her brain with thoughts that somehow seem lighter in comparison to her own inevitable self destruction although the people she plays with might say otherwise .

consequences should scare her more than they do , but honestly she’s got a penchant for doing the things deemed bad for her . on one hand she figures little matters if she’s truly cursed , on the other hand she figures if she is cursed than whatever consequence comes her way is deserved .

flirty , but most of the time it never means anything . she is prone to intense infatuations , however , all of which have ended tragically so far so proceed with caution .

she’s definitely someone most people would know of , as she’s got an almost bad habit of striking up conversations with whoever , but ask someone to name her favorite color or any profound fact about her and they probably wouldn’t be able to .

very nosy due to her childhood of people watching and intensely studying the adults who raised her , and so the habit has carried on into her adult life . she won’t outwardly pry , but if you catch her interest she’ll unabashedly observe you like she’s an actor trying to better understand their part .

tons of fun at parties , but also in class , considering she’s snorting enough coke on the daily to treat school like it’s one big social gathering . life’s a beach baby <3

studying classics because she likes how intense the stories and history are , but she’s surprised herself by being rather good at the language aspect of the major .

deep deep down ... there is the desire to be understood and loved despite whatever uninhibited thing she’s convinced lurks around inside her but that is constantly in conflict with the idea that she’s fundamentally undeserving of real affection ... just girly things you know 🥺

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ WANTED CONNECTIONS ! ( all open to all genders )

my brain is quite literally all rot rn im just gonna list stuff with minimal elaboration please vibe with me ...

people she gets high with <3

ex infatuations that ended tragically lets get that angst

spare parental figures ... any professors out there want a demon child who will idolize u but not know how to deal with that so they just act up all the while hoping for forgiveness and the attention they never got from their own parents </3

speaking of professors i will play into the problematic trope of a student being obsessed with a professor -___- solely because i would lov to have gio go full throttle crazy ... as a treat ... this has nothing to do with that one line in lorde’s writer in the dark u know the one truly this does not have to be reciprocated at ALL

a confidant / someone she probably considers her closest friend who she is constantly disgusted with herself for opening up to but also truly not able to live without so it’s a fun cycle of push and pull but truly she’d probably die for them just don’t ask her that she’ll say no

i think it would be fun to have someone who knows about the supposed argenti curse maybe their family had some associations to gio’s or maybe they spent some time in italy at some point growing up and met her there idk im cute not smart ...

we’ve all been begging and begging i will jump on the bandwagon and ask for a sexy rival doesnt mean anything if u say i hate u after hooking up

someone she keeps bumping into when she’s sneaking out past curfew or cutting class and at first it was like dude seriously do we have to start alternating but now it turned into like wow i really hope we bump into each other again would u like a cigarette wanna listen to some music together

someone she sees a lot at stan’s place . perhaps on campus they have a very different relationship but off campus they feel free to have another

current hookups we love to see it there’s so many directions to go in maybe its purely a casual thing , maybe it’s casual for gio but not for them , or maybe gio’s the one like worm maybe i would like more than sex , maybe it’s like a we only hookup when we’re high at parties thing , perhaps it’s a secret hookup thing so it gets angsty

maybe a rival or someone she swears she hates and they swear the same but they accidentally bond along the way and it’s like well i thought i hated u but perhaps we are more similar than we thought but also we only know how to be enemies so how do we even move past this ...

perhaps someone gio goes to when she’s especially fucked up and they take care of her / start to resent her for seemingly caring so little abt her own well being and she resents them for caring too much bc it’s not liked she asked but she keeps showing up at their door and they keep letting her in

someone she can be in cahoots with ... go absolutely bonkers with knowing they won’t judge her and she won’t judge them

perhaps someone she can be a bad influence on

also someone who makes her want to be a better person bc we need balance

a group of girls gio can be like men r disgusting with but then they catch her hooking up with said stinky man and it’s just a cycle like please get some help luv

a dealer mayhaps ?

someone whose favorite pen she stole but blatantly lied and said she didn’t steal it but she uses it everyday in class so u know she did in fact steal ur pen

ok she’s out of juice i’m she

i wont lie to u ive been writing this all damn day … but we finally made it baby 😭😭😭 im sosososo sorry for the length & the wait … also i feel like my charas always change a lil once i actually start plotting & writing so sorry again if u see me finally writing as giovanna on the dash and ur like lit rally who is that … JSDBWJBDWBDJ also side note i promise u im almost done word vomiting all over the place but it must b said ... u know how there’s that trope that supposed insanity is like not always real like how female hysteria was a whole as thing or like how in haunting ��of hill house where the charas weren’t really haunted by ghosts at all more so by their trauma ... that was my whole inspo with the argenti’s like are they even cursed at all ? who is to say ... PLEASE come message me on discord to plot ! @ you are my soulmate ʕ´• ᴥ•̥`ʔ#8172 maybe … give this a like if u wanna … do that hehehe thank u for reading all this ur so brave for that stay sexy stan loona x

#heretics.intro #╰ ♡ . 𝒏𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒚 ── ooc !#pls lets not talk abt the length the quality OR the lateness ... compliments only x #JSBDJWBDJWBDJWD

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advernia · 5 years

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push me off a bridge (to catch me as i fall)

a separate post for my ramblings for this fic!! it’s actually the longest thing i’ve written in a while, so i have a lot to ramble about haha;;

prelude

oh man... this started when two of my friends decided to go through edgar’s route at the same time AND also decided to go reacting to every single part of the route through burst texting AT THE SAME TIME, effectively flooding my inbox.... they were fully aware that i was at a seminar and unable to reply... now my inbox is filled with so much edgar screaming i cannot... (゜▽゜;)

screaming aside they were also very willing to read whatever drafts of edgar/mc i had available and this was their favorite!! thanks to them, i decided to finish this omfg... i’m actually so proud that i got this done but tbh it was getting so long that i had half a mind to let go of it already halfway through scene three haha... (;*△*;)

this has uh... some fighting scenes and tbh the first draft had absolutely none of it... this is my first time actually writing long(?) scenes and while i found thinking about them to be fun, putting them into words was some struggle??? like... i've been told that it looks okay but idk it feels clunky to me. oh well ＼| ￣ヘ￣|／

general stuff + war phase, baby!

initially this was only meant to be 3 parts + primarily focused on edgar/mc + with an unnamed mc as usual! but then since it’s an au of kyle’s route, i found myself wanting to flesh out the relationship of edgar & mc when set in a different angle + circumstances rather than just automatically implying attraction...

plus their relationship canonically starts off on the wrong foot in that route & edgar’s fully aware that mc isn’t exactly comfortable around him, so it really doesn’t sit well if i just... put them together, lol. so thus we have five scenes of them getting(?) closer!(???)

in short its a hella slow burn and not gonna lie, when i was writing their scenes i was like f i n a l l y... bless... ಠ ּ͜೦

one of the reasons i like kyle’s route is bc i actually got some feel of an actual war??? idk i think there’s so much plot that u can fill in with it, so i decided going for alternating scenes of the battlefield + med tent. while there's glimpses of the action going on, there’s also the sort of complimenting(???) or offsetting more emotional perspective of what goes on with the medics.

tbh i stared long and hard at the cradle map when formulating some tactics and i gotta say i had a hard time calming myself down bc...

in kyle’s route, the red army has the advantage and have pushed the black army as far back as to their bridge, which means that more or less they’ve occupied central quarter... but what dawned on me was... where the hell did the red army position their encampment from there???

was an encampment even necessary given that they’re like, in a really convenient area????? they probably could’ve settled themselves in some houses but tbh okay maybe it isn’t so noble of the reds to do (imposing themselves n’ stuff) + they have larger numbers so accommodating all of them is a problem but still... where’d they set up camp??? u see, when kyle + mc step out of the med tent it shows the forest bg, so... where??? on the edges of the central quarter area are where u can see them trees??? on the civic center roof?!?!

well... a decent answer is that they could’ve set up several encampments around the area to ensure their hold on the central quarter... it still raises some questions but honestly it makes a lot more sense... but if not and they really decided to camp out like one big happy family all together, then don’t even get me started on the possibility that the camp was stationed somewhere around here:

because doing that doesn’t have a single lick of sense omfg especially tactics-wise haha... that’s like... why would you do that... you’re wasting all your advantages... o h b o y... so you bet when i remembered that mc + loki had to pass by a forest to get back to the encampment + encountered ray & some disciples i was like... u m m... why???? if technically the reds took hold of the whole central quarter area then it actually isn’t necessary to skulk around in the forest?????? yes yes i know safety precautions + avoiding detection but... dood... it’s safer to walk in claimed territory rather than the unstable one ahaha...

plus the thing about the black bridge... uh... it's just said in the route that lancelot handles it through magic and that's all. but when i thought back on it oh my god... what did he do??????? how is he still standing??? how much of his lifespan did he shave off just to salvage that situation??????????? how is the poor boi alive?????????? the whole fucking bridge literally falls apart and that's a whole lot of chaos and people and AHHHHH!?!?!¿¿¿¿ if ur gonna make the bridge collapse (good thing they didn't think of disintegrate) it probably cost the magic tower a hefty amount but get rekt lancelot still saves the fucking day, what a king - he's practically got one foot in the grave already... this dood, seriously ಥ_ಥ

there were other things i noticed in the process of writing this based on the route events but i was like fuck it, let’s think on that another day and leave it as it is (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻ ily kyle but oh no my brain started reprocessing the other details of ur route

thinking about all that also made me think of other more stuff, like cradle economy + livelihood haha;; it’s stated in edgar’s route (well... it’s actually pretty obvious in other routes too) that the reds are richer than the blacks, so i went ahead and assumed that the former engages in something more lucrative like mining -> jewerly / raw material / mineral trade, while for the latter something more wholesome like agriculture. idk, it works. even moreso that the reds give off the whole nobility vibe while the blacks are simple and casual. even the bg screens of the red & black streets are polarizing.

then i also went over the rest of the chosen thirteen... while the reds show no obvious weapon variety (see: swords), i’d like to believe that they’re taught to be versatile enough no matter what the situation. plus, since they have the funding, i'd like to think they're skilled in magic manipulation, too. meanwhile the black army shows weapon variety, and i’d like to think that it’s because most of their recruits aren’t soldiers in the first place: they’re farmhands / hunters / village people turned soldiers, and it’s actually easier to let them go with what they know first before encouraging them or asking them to learn something new. thus axes and spears and possible unconventional stuff like caltrops.

crimson glory

one of the things i realized was in kyle’s route, mc isn’t exactly so buddy-buddy with the red crew in comparison to other routes. she gets minimal interactions with the four, and zero aside her relationships with the top three are rather... tense.

zero was the other red officer i was initially going to add aside from edgar & kyle, but i added all of them anyway. while they don't appear all together, all of them have scenes together with edgar.

the first edgar & jonah scene shows an obvious contrast - while he's being incredibly critical about it, jonah shows actual concern for the living situations in black army territory. on the other hand, edgar chooses to tease him about it, his joking more or less implying that he isn't that concerned / bothered about it at all. the game touches up on this sometimes, often with edgar commenting on how noble jonah is while jonah shows obvious distaste for edgar's callousness.

still, they work well together. personally i'm amused with a hc of mine that looking at how edgar fights / acts only spurs jonah to act more honorably while for edgar, being exposed to jonah's noble-ness more or less makes him curious to try being honorable from time to time lol. that still doesn't stop anyone from calling him the gentle demon tho ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

tbh since edgar is obviously sneaky on other routes i wouldn't put it past him to casually pressure lancelot to tell him wtf's going on with this war when he gets the inkling that something's wrong. edgar goes about this subtly not-so-subtly and in the most polite manner possible. lancelot knows him far too well to take bait tho - he makes sure to speak carefully since he's probably knows that edgar's going to pick apart at his words for meanings + implications, so it more or less leaves edgar a bit frustrated since it's clear that lancelot won't tell him much. still, edgar knows when not to cross the line - even he's not so keen on getting on lancelot's bad side.

that aside, i'd like to think that edgar respects lancelot a lot as a person + commander enough that he'd truly risk his life for him on instinct like a true soldier would. while i think i could've done more on writing the gravity of the collapsing bridge scene, i liked the last bit where edgar + zero immediately worried for lancelot.

let's be honest here tho in some way or another all of the reds chosen worry about their king bc bruh... let us in bruh...

the scenes of zero & edgar in the end are also my favorite! it isn’t much, but enjoyed writing their relationship briefly. tbh i think edgar is one of those people under the sleep = most vulnerable = death thinking (no thanks to claudius), so the fact that he allows himself to drift to sleep twice in zero's company is a definite sign of trust. then again, he's injured but still ( ᐛ )و

edgar, idike, kyle

y’know even if this is an edgar/mc thing, i found fleshing out the kyle/mc relationship equally important which i presented in scene three. personally speaking, i’d like to think that if ever kyle didn’t fall in love with mc (on his own route???) he’d still be watching over her anyway since her struggle in the medical field + war reminds him a bit of his younger self after his brother's death.

which is why he doesn't intervene with that one soldier scene - he doesn't coddle her either when she goes into a brief shock. perhaps it's bc he knows so well what she's going through, he decides to let her handle it on her own. this was her experience, not his. and to be fair, she asked to go to the front lines determined but wholly unprepared emotionally. he tried warning her, she wouldn’t listen. now she faces the consequences - how would she go about it?

i decided to slap a name into mc this time to highlight the trust plot: idk if i got it clearly across in the fic, but in times of war + for someone who’s been trained to be suspicious / cautious of everyone like edgar; secrets are a surefire way to catch attention + breed distrust.

tbh he's hella aware that the secret around her name is most likely personal and nothing dangerous, but it's better safe than sorry - by making sure she understands that keeping secrets wouldn't be of any good to her + situation, he gets reassurance that she really is harmless. how bad + seriously she takes it honestly surprises him tho, but then again she's been going through other stuff too so it all piled up.

idike isn’t my in-game name, but it’s the given name i spoke of in this ask, haha! initially scene five has her saying her full name (with surname), but i thought it would be more fitting if i didn’t lol ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

i tried to incorporate a mix of the personalities of edgar’s!mc + kyle’s!mc onto idike, tho at first i was only shooting for the latter - i think it kinda works??? while somewhat composed and determined (kyle’s), she still shows some naivete in her (edgar’s), especially concerning the ways of war + how secrecy & trust work in times of war.

i found emphasizing on her emotional struggle important, since it should be a big blow for her who’s never known the terror of war. the game touches upon on it a bit (tho it's post-med tent scenes) and i wanted to expand on it further since there are so many possible angles to go about it.

the i can’t heal you if you’re dead line sounds like something like shiro emiya might say but lol no i just remembered this p3 manga panel (pg 24) - its been years since i read it and i still love that line and i integrated it here... i was trying to expand that one scene for a while but then i just left it as it is.

in the catharsis scene where idike airs out everything, the fact that edgar fails to empathize with her + focuses more on her emotional state rather than offering actual help (advice maybe, but i honestly doubt he’d do that) reflects that he's still looking at her as an interesting creature and not her as a person. part 5 hints that this may be slowly changing, seeing as he called for her all of a sudden.

... idike probably keeps edgar’s glove as a token of friendship or smth haha ooPSSS i forgot to bring that back ahahaha..... ヘ（。□°）ヘ

ooofff i guess that’s all i have??? a big thank you to whoever read both hot messes™ and by that the fic + commentary itself!!! do feel free to hit the inbox for any comments + questions + more brainstorming + general screaming haha! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

#rundown.txt #the last long fic i wrote was a 6k+ fe:if thing #that was 3 years ago whoooaaaa #apparently i went the extra mile for this one omfg

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