#even though during the monologue she tried to make herself believe she was all of those things mike said

[paintingformike]

i feel like i’ve thought of this before but just didn’t dwell on it too much...but the fact that in the cabin scene when will questioned mike about the way el was acting towards him and mike immediately brought up how they were talking about el’s loss should’ve been enough of a hint that the current state of their relationship (el ignoring mike) has something to do with el losing...

[midnightrings]

Writing Analysis: River Song (Part One: Silence of the Library/Forest of the Dead)

[Note: Some time ago, when I decided to rewatch Doctor Who to catch up (which has been a while ago, I keep getting distracted lmao) I’ve had the idea to pay some close attention to how River Song’s character arc and storyline evolve throughout the show. Mainly out of personal interest (and also because I’m still working on a River/Doctor multichapter fanfiction), I’ve started taking some notes during her appearances to somewhat analyse her character and writing.

I’ve always found her writing quite interesting because a) she was written out of order, and b) she only appeared in a handful of episodes/stories. Yet, I still completely fell in love with her character (and her relationship with the Doctor), never feeling like she or her arc were not fully developed.

I have not really shared many analyses/interpretations/etc. for a while now (mainly because I’m not that active in most fandom spaces anymore cause … well, they can be rather exhausting), though I always enjoy it and told myself I will start sharing them more often, just in case someone is interested in reading them. This will obviously be in several parts (that I have not finished yet, so I don’t know how long this will take). I will also keep it quite general throughout (so this won't be a deep dive analysis of her) as the focus lays more on how her character and relationship with the Doctor evolve, rather than trying to analyse every single frame. ]

River’s character

This two-parter introduces us to her character and we already learn quite a lot about her. The episodes show that she is clearly smart and intelligent - besides the fact that she is an archeology professor, she also shows technical knowledge and can easily follow the Doctor’s thoughts and instructions. She has a mind of her own and can be quite stubborn as well – not signing Lux’s agreement, not listening to the Doctor when she believes him to be in the wrong, taking charge herself. On top of that, she also displays a lot of compassion: she cares about her team’s wellbeing, obviously about the Doctor too, and later sacrifices herself to save everyone else. Essentially, she clearly shows a lot of character traits you would usually see in the Doctor’s companions, and perhaps even beyond that, as she appears equal to the Doctor in both, intelligence and agency.

“Funny thing is, this means you've always known how I was going to die. All the time we've been together, you knew I was coming here.”

This also introduces us to her theme of time (and time travel, obviously). She coins the term spoilers here, due to not being able to tell the Doctor anything about his future, despite his attempts to find out more. It also shows that she is responsible about time travel, as once she realizes the Doctor has never met her before, she tries to keep any possible spoilers to herself. She also prevents him from killing himself, keeping the timeline in tact (though this was probably majorly due to more selfish reasons, as she obviously did not want to eliminate their time together). This also makes her appear as rather mysterious, though I would not necessarily describe her as a generally secretive person, as she does not hide her emotions or thoughts as showcased by her conversations with and about the Doctor. She does not choose to be secretive, she simply has to be.

Relationship with the Doctor

“He hasn't met me yet. I sent him a message but it went wrong. It arrived too early. This is the Doctor in the days before he knew me. And he looks at me - he looks right through me - and it shouldn't kill me, but it does.”

The nature of their relationship (at least out of River’s perspective at this point) becomes pretty clear throughout the story. Messaging him via his psychic paper, the conversations (or, I’d rather say monologues) she has with her team and Donna in regards to the Doctor as well as her death speech show the close connection she has with him. The slight flirting (specifically in the beginning of the first episode, before she realizes he does not know her yet) also let’s us know exactly what type of connection that is, as well as her heartbreak upon realizing he has not met her before.

In this context, we also get the theme of trust. The Doctor is clearly wary of her, and when she uses a screwdriver (which a future version of the Doctor has given to her) – while it shows us even more how close they would be in the future – it makes him even more suspicious of her. This then prompts River to tell him his name in order for him to trust her. With his name representing such a huge secret and mystery, it is clear now that she is someone extremely special to him, and it becomes clear to the Doctor as well, turning his caution into trust (to some extent, at least). It also creates an interesting relationship between Ten and River for the rest of the episode, as – while he does not know her yet – he is aware that she will be important to him in the future, in the end saving her for his future self’s sake.

“Doctor, one day I'm going to be someone that you trust, completely. But I can't wait for you to find that out. So I'm going to prove it to you. And I'm sorry. I'm really very sorry.“

Of course, the theme of time plays an important role in their relationship here as well. River’s diary, which consists of their future together, becomes a symbol for their relationship, not just in this story, but throughout their episodes. River breaking the spoilers-rule by telling the Doctor that she knows his true name lays the aforementioned basis of trust they would not otherwise have. The screwdriver – though we won’t see it again until River’s last episode – also turns into another symbol, allowing the Doctor through his future self to save her, initially creating a paradox. And then, of course, her death: the Doctor, being forced to watch her die, before even knowing her, represents – despite the otherwise somewhat (twisted) happy ending – the tragedy of their relationship.

Mystery

Now, for a good part of her storyline, the mystery surrounding her character and her relationship with the Doctor is also a prominent theme. I’ve decided to make this a separate category instead of a continuous theme, as it obviously does not occupy her entire storyline but it is an interesting aspect to look at, and see how – in terms of writing – that mystery evolves.

At this point, the mystery consists of only one question: who is she in relation to the Doctor? Of course, River’s interactions with him throughout this two-parter, her final speech and the knowledge of his name strongly hint at the fact that she is in a romantic relationship with him (or will be in the future, out of his perspective). It is never completely revealed, of course but made as apparent as it could be without directly stating it. So the mystery at this point is more whether we will see her again and see her story with the Doctor unfold or not.

Misc. thoughts

I find it quite interesting that the term ‘spoilers’ was first used at the beginning of this story by the Doctor and Donna. While later on, it definitely becomes River’s term (almost like a catchphrase) and is primarily centered around their relationship, at this point it was clearly meant as a theme for the episode that they later reused for River’s entire arc.

General/Final thoughts

What I believe to be very interesting about this two-parter is that, obviously, no one knew whether River would return or not, and as such, she is written like a one-time character. Thankfully, she returned for future episodes, but the story did not need further episodes to back up her character arc. She has been created and written for this story and was as such an already fleshed-out character as we finish the two-parter. And I believe that this really helped her character writing. Had they already known she would return, I have no doubt she would’ve been left rather ambiguous, to allow to shape her character more as the story progresses and to create a bigger mystery (as is done later). Her character arc is already well rounded at this point, and all of the future storylines essentially simply add onto that and use this story as a basis for her character, basically functioning as an outline for her future story arc.

[katherineholmes]

Hi! Just wanted to say I was so excited to read the new chapter of The Monsters in Her Heart!! I was wondering, is there any chance of getting some insight into Klaus or Elijah’s POV even through a one-shot at some point? I’m so curious to know what they’re thinking during all these moments where they’re staring at Elena or she’s monologuing in her head - but also completely understand if that’s the point! Can’t wait for the next chapter already 😊

Hey! I think this was an ask for chapter 8 or 9, I’m not entirely sure now, but I’m sorry about how long it’s taken me to answer it 🙈

Hmm….I actually do have one or two snippets lying around of from Klaus and Elijah’s perspectives, but a lot of Monsters is about getting into Elena’s head, and seeing things through her perspective. It’s limited, unfortunately, because the trauma that she has gone through,has turned her into a bit of an unreliable narrator, but it’s intended to be that way. So much of the fic is about fear, anxiety, PTSD and the lasting effects of trauma and grief that it can only really work with her as the narrator.

But if you do want a bit of insight into Klaus and Elijah’s minds, I think they’re at very different places. Elijah sees Elena as many things, a doppelgänger, his soulmate and then as herself. It takes him a while to wrap his head around the fact that he’s destined to be with a woman whose face is deeply intertwined in his history and in his life. Over the time he spends with her and the more he finds out about her, the more he starts seeing her as her own person.

I think, to an extent, Elijah realises that there’s more to her trauma than she says, after all, he’s seen Klaus’ trauma responses, Rebekah and Marcel’s as well. So he recognises them, but he isn’t sure what to do, even though it does affect him. He knows that confronting her or talking to her won’t really end well, so he tries to help in his own ways.

It’s slightly more complicated for Klaus. To him, she’s both the woman he’s wanted more than anything and the one he didn’t want at all. Klaus doesn’t think a soulmate can change his life because he believes that anyone would easily pick Elijah over him, so he tells himself that he doesn’t need a soulmate anyway. That he’s fine as he is. But he does need his doppelgänger, which is Elena. And so she’s stuck being many things for him.

At first, he believes he can kill her, but he doesn’t because of Elijah. That lasts until she talks about the curse with him, and shows him kindness. Instead of talking about her own impending death (which she heavily romanticises), she talks about him. She’s worried about how the curse, the betrayal must’ve affected him, the loss of self that he feels, which he thinks no one else ever tries to understand. But she does. For days afterwards, he paints her face because there’s a chance she might just understand him.

Then she breaks down in front of him, and he realises he was right. There’s this part of himself that he hates, that he wants to avoid, and has repressed for centuries, which he believes to be weak, but he sees that part in her. And it reassures his belief that she truly might get him.

He tries to learn more about her, but her walls are high and he starts watching her, stalking her at night. Seeing her in his art studio, studying his paintings while he studies her, makes him think that he can keep her alive for a while longer, that it won’t be a big deal because he isn’t as affected as Elijah is, and that she might show him more of that compassion.

I do hope that gives a little more insight into Klaus and Elijah’s minds, and I might write a one-shot form their POV but only after this fic is over.

Also, that got a bit too long, but I hope that’s okay!

[mediocreauthor]

nana komatsu: how we surpass trauma to survive

tw: rape, sexual assault 

I recently wrote the way Hachi didn’t acknowledge or deal with her rape was one of the most realistic portrayals I have ever seen, whether that was Yazawa’s intention or not. 

Now you can say how Yazawa portrayed certain issues was wrong and potentially harmful for many young girls who read NANA and saw incredibly damaging behaviors brushed over or not even portrayed as bad. And you would be correct but this post isn’t about NANA’s affect, but rather story itself. 

The morning after Hachi’s pregnancy was revealed, which I consider as a turning point of the story, Takumi raped Hachi. I really don’t want to sugar coat or be poetic about this, he raped her. Now, I have been seeing some posts excusing Takumi’s actions therefore I will explain why this is considered as rape. 

In chapter 29, we don’t see Hachi explicitly saying no or fighting back, but hesitant and reluctant because Nana is right next door. Takumi first tries to convince her and when Hachi remains hesitant, what does he tell her?  “You should worry about making me angry.” I am paraphrasing but the message was this. Hearing this, Hachi gives up and people might think she ‘lets’ Takumi do whatever she wants therefore it’s okay somehow, it’s not. 

I read this somewhere and I want all of everyone to read it as well: A ‘yes’ only has value when someone is comfortable enough to say ‘no’. Hachi’s unwilling ‘yes’ means nothing because she was just very openly threatened by Takumi. Hachi, alienated from her friends, knowing Nana sees her as a traitor, Nobu as a cheater, Hachi who had no support for her baby, was given a clear ultimatum by Takumi, the only person she had by her side: if you don’t give me what I want, I will hurt you. You will be left alone. So she does. And then she doesn’t even acknowledge it as rape. She is angry and distraught after but it’s for the strawberry glasses and she just looks slightly annoyed with Takumi. That’s all. Where is that dramatic aftermath we usually see in media, where woman cries, breaks everything within reach then stares blankly at the ceiling?

Because most rape aftermaths don’t look like that. I am BY NO MEANS saying women whose experiences was as I wrote above as invalid. Most rape cases aren’t reported, we know that. But there is also a heartbreaking amount of women who can’t even decide if they have been raped or not. Women, who are  haunted by a certain memory but always pushing it to back of their minds.  I believe Hachi is one of them.  There is a high possibility Hachi was unable to register it as rape but we -readers can observe the effects of it through her behaviour. Hachi is terrified of Takumi. Fans give her so much shit for not contacting Nobu, even Hachi called it out of selfishness and no action is done with one mere emotion, but she also avoided it out of fear of angering Takumi. 

Hachi’s fear of him is displayed plain as day during Shin and Reira’s birthday party. Hachi knew she has angered Takumi by staying at the party, she even considers divorcing him and her inner monologue was pretty brave and promising. So what changed when Takumi knocked on Nana’s door? I would like to break down what for me, is one of the most disturbing scenes in NANA.

This scene right here, is a cry for help for someone who can recognize certain patterns in abusive relationships.

Hachi was in a good mood right before this scene, Nana even pointed out she was too cheerful for someone in the brink of a break up. However, at presence of Takumi, she immediately caves and apologizes for doing things without his knowledge while at the same time, still offering a way out. This way out isn’t for Takumi, it’s for her. I am %100 sure if Takumi said ‘okay go live your own then’, even though sad, Hachi’s predominant emotion would be relief.

She is terrified of Takumi. Hachi is unable to escape this unless he gives her an out. She regretted her ‘choice’ of being with Takumi the morning after but she had no one or nowhere to go. Now, you might think ‘she could’ve gone back to her parents!’ or ‘she could’ve lived on her own’ and I want to counter with: abused people’s mind don’t function like that. Even though you are somewhat aware that you are being treated badly, taken advantage of, it’s pushed way back in your mind. Your world consists of only you and your abuser, you can’t think of options simply because you don’t see any. 

And your abuser makes you believe what they are doing isn’t a big deal. They treat you with kindness right after abusing you while not acknowledging their behavior to leave you disoriented and unsure about the weight of what you have experienced. What Takumi did to Hachi was exactly that. So what did she do? She surpassed it and moved on.

‘I didn’t allow it for the sake of our future, but because I wanted to escape the terror and anxiety of that moment’ Read this sentence over and over again and process it. If I read one more take about how ‘what Takumi did wasn’t that bad compared to other NANA characters’ I am going to fucking slap them with this panel. Hachi learned that disobeying Takumi is pointless. She allows it even when considering separation, why? She is paralyzed by fear.  Because she tried to object Takumi once and learned her lesson. Obedience is so much easier than what you might face with your abuser. You bend and cave, do everything in your power to avoid their wrath. It’s safer.  Admitting that you haven’t received the best treatment from someone who is supposed to cherish you is an act strength by itself. I do not blame any victims of abuse who don’t want to admit or process their trauma. It’s hard, it’s terrifying and frustrating. Being able to process your trauma is a luxury most women don’t have. Hachi doesn’t have it with a belly up her nose at the age of 21. She is in a vulnerable position and don’t think even for a second Takumi isn’t aware of it. 

Next day, Hachi greets Takumi by the door as usual. Their home life becomes pretty stable since she takes all his micro aggressions,  his snarky comments and belittlement with slight annoyance, still with humor. Because the other scenario is losing herself. She surpasses her trauma to maintain her sanity. 

Why do I love this? 

Because a lot of women do exactly this. A lot of housewives who stick with their husbands despite years of abuse, young girls with their boyfriends do this. Because I read NANA at the age of 14 and didn’t even understand what Hachi went through but rereading it at 23, with what I have seen made me sob. Whether Ai Yazawa’s approach was irresponsible or genius I don’t know. But I took something valuable from it and if any minors or young adults especially are following me, I want them to recognize these patterns and behaviors too. 

And what should never be done is to take this tragic coping mechanism and turn it into an excuse to diminish your favorite rat boy’s behavior. You can keep saying what Takumi did wasn’t bad based on Hachi’s reaction, be aware it’s a survival instinct, not nonchalance.   To sum it up: Hachi is a survivor and what she lived through was just as sad and tragic as other characters, and  I am fucking sick of people invalidating it because she coped with a smile.

[sturchling]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a fan fiction where Lila and marinette were actually best friends but were faking to see who were good friends or not. If you do , do it pls take your time I don’t want to rush you

Also look at the taco I made

Sorry this took so long! I know you said not to rush, but still! Thanks for being patient! Hope you like it, and that is a interesting looking taco. Definitely different from my family's style of taco! Hope you enjoy the story!

Marinette had been attending a creative arts summer program for several years. The program was based out of London and kids from all over Europe would attend for different styles of creative arts. Marinette's grandmother would always make sure to be in London during the month of this program and Marinette would stay with her while the program was happening. Marinette often found herself excited for this one month away from Paris. Sure she loved being with her parents and friends, but it was nice to get away to a place nobody knew you for a while. She never even told her class where she went for that one month out of the summer. It was great.

---------------------

Marinette made a lot of friends at the program, but she loved to hang out with Lila. She was studying theater at the program while Marinette studied fashion design. Lila was always so fun to hang out with, and they would spend hours just working on their different projects. Marinette working on her newest design, while Lila refined her monologues. Marinette was always amazed by Lila's acting. Its like she became a completely different person with each new piece Lila was practicing. It was very impressive.

------------------

Over the last few years, Marinette was starting to feel as though her friends in Paris weren't real friends. She started to notice how they only really wanted to hang out when they needed her to design or bake something. And they would often ask for things last minute, not thinking about Marinette's schedule, or even offering to pay for the supplies. Marinette didn't want to think that of her classmates, but it was getting difficult to ignore. Especially this year, because the amount of requests they had made had nearly tripled. Marinette was thrilled when it was time to head to her summer program and she could get away from Paris for a while.

------------------

Lila noticed pretty quickly that Marinette seemed different this year. She seemed more down, and more quiet then previous years. "Marinette? Is something wrong? You seem quiet..." Marinette snapped out of her trance and looked up at Lila. "Sorry Lila, I'm alright.." Lila put down her script, and sat down next to Marinette. "Come on Marinette. I can tell when you are lying. There is a reason I am in the acting program and you aren't." That got Marinette to laugh a little and for a moment she was just the happy Marinette that Lila knew. But the smile quickly faded. "Ok, I'll tell you." Marinette told Lila everything. How the class had been treating her and all of her doubts. "I just don't know if they really think of me as a friend, or if they are just using me. And I don't want to ask, because if they do think of me as a friend, I could offend them by asking. I just don't know what to do!" Lila thought for a moment, unsure of how to help her friend. She went home to think about it for the night, when her mother gave her the best news.

-----------------

The next day, Lila rushed to Marinette and told her the news. "What? Your mom said you guys are moving to Paris for a year? That's awesome!" Lila was smiling, happy to see Marinette smiling. "And, best of all, we can fix these doubts. I can pretend to be the world's worst liar. I'll try and trick the class into believing my lies, and if they fall for it, then I will try to convince them to ditch you in exchange for favors and VIP treatment. If they ditch you, then they weren't really your friends and you will know for sure. If they don't, then they really care about you and you won't have to worry anymore." Marinette agreed to the plan, and they started to plan out all the little details and the lies Lila would use on the class. By the time the program was over for the summer and Marinette returned to Paris, they had a perfect plan. All that was left was to wait for school to start.

-----------------

The school year had started, and Lila had just arrived. She wasted no time and started to wow the students with all of her 'amazing achievements'. Soon the whole school was fawning over her, with hardly any effort on Lila's part. Lila was thankfully in Mrs. Bustier's class, so that would make the plan much easier. Just as they discussed, Marinette spent most of the next few weeks trying to tell everyone that Lila was lying to them, to see if they would believe Lila or Marinette. When Marinette first voiced her concerns this past summer, Lila was sure her friend was just overthinking things. Sure the class was obviously inconsiderate from what Marinette had told Lila, but she was sure the class really thought of Marinette as a friend.

-------------------

Oh, how quickly Lila was proven wrong. It only took a few weeks for the entire class to very clearly side with Lila. They told Marinette that she was just jealous of Lila and that Lila wasn't lying. While Lila's hope for the class was diminishing with each passing day, she clung to the hope that maybe the class was just gullible, but would stick with Marinette when it mattered. Now that the class had obviously decided to believe Lila, the two girls moved to the next stage of the plan. Lila started to tell the class that Marinette was harassing and bullying her. She offered the class no proof of these claims, just told them it happened. And to Lila's surprise, the class instantly believed her and dumped Marinette immediately. They isolated Marinette and nobody would talk to her. All because Lila said so.

-----------------

Lila was truly horrified. She couldn't believe that Marinette's class ditched her like that. After talking it over with Marinette, they decided on one more test. Just to be sure that the class had truly sided with Lila for her 'connections and favors'. Lila was going to 'apologize' and reveal to the class that she had been lying and she didn't know all these people. But that was the only lie she would reveal. She would stick by what she said about Marinette bullying her. Would the class continue to defend Lila against a bully? Would they apologize to Marinette for believing a liar? Or would they instantly go back to Marinette like nothing happened?

--------------------

The next day, Lila made the reveal. She told the class she lied about her celebrity connections, made a tearful and sincere apology, said that she had just thought no one would like her so she made herself seem more important to help make friends, but made it clear that Marinette was bullying her. "I am really sorry! I was just scared about moving to a new country and was desperate to make friends. But Marinette figured it out and has been so mean to me ever since, so I was afraid how you guys would react if I told you. But you guys have been so nice, I really hope we can stay friends and I will do anything to make it up to you guys!" The class' reaction was instant. They instantly turned their backs on Lila and made her the class outcast. While that is bad, if they had apologized to Marinette, that would have made it kind of ok. But instead, they just started talking to Marinette again. They tried to act like nothing happened and they hadn't ditched Marinette for a liar. Like they hadn't believed a girl they hardly knew over their 'close friend'. Like they hadn't thought the worst in Marinette just because of Lila. That was the final straw for Marinette. It was clear to her that the class didn't really think of her as a friend. Or at the very least, they didn't treat her like a friend. And Marinette was done with it.

-----------------

Marinette decided to leave Dupont behind completely. She and Lila revealed their real plan to the class and left the school for good. She switched to a different school in the city that had a fantastic arts program. With her portfolio, the school quickly accepted her. Marinette was in her new school by Monday. Lila switched with her, and the two girls spent the rest of Lila's year in Paris having a great time at their new school. When it was time for Lila to leave, Marinette saw her and her mother to the airport, promising to see Lila at the summer program in two weeks. As she got back to the bakery one day, right before she left for London, she saw the class standing outside. They tried to apologize and ask to be friends again, but Marinette shut that down fast. "No. I am not coming back to Dupont, and we aren't friends anymore. It isn't just about Lila. Lila just made it clear that we haven't been friends for a very long time. I am happy at my new school. I have found real friends, that treat me like a friend would. And its all thanks to my real best friend, Lila. Now, please go. I have to pack for the summer." With that, Marinette went inside and closed the door on her old fake friends.

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

Few nights a month

Yelena was allowed to be with you just for a few nights a month. Now, when she's free from the control of the Red Room, you have to make a choice.

Yelena Belova X reader, one shot, angst, hopeful ending

You hated yourself. Again. For reading the text. For answering it. Even though this time the text itself was different. Inviting. You've been waiting for this message for two months.

You could have though it wasn't Yelena. But it was her. Of course. No respect for your life, no respect for the boundries.

You were ready to run wherever and whenever she called you.

You were belonging to her. For six months already. Her toy, her distraction, her girl.

There was no relationship. Just Yelena wanting you, devouring you, making you feel the whole pallet of emotions.

You could say she was obsessed with you. Not seeing you for weeks but thinking, imagining, dreaming of you. And than a few nights a month making her dreams come true.

She wasn't manipulative, she didn't lie. She never promised you a thing.

She was working undercover when you met. No accent, dark hair, heels. She was supposed to get information from your boss. Needless to say she was successful.

Carelessly asking you out on her last day of a mission. You thought it was a date. It clearly wasn't. Yelena was drinking. A lot. Her Russian accent appeared out of nowhere. You were intrigued. Her stories were so different from what you imagined they would be.

You listened and listened. Knowing that your heart would never belong to anyone else. This woman was dragging you into her world.

Light touches, longing glances. If she could, she would make you scream her name right there and than. She was so touch starved. When was the last time she was with anyone? She didn't even remember. And there you were so happy, so pure, so perfect.

It wasn't like you, bringing a stranger home. Let her be the host in your own apartment.

She tore your clothes. Desperate and thirsty. You didn't care whether she told you the truth about herself. Didn't even care whether her name was real. But it was. You were fortunate enough to know, what name to cry over and over again. It was your reward for being her girl.

You didn't have the morning after. Yelena didn't need it. You did. Feeling your body ask for more was the worst thing. Why were you reacting like this? You were a grown up woman, what was wrong with you.

Her smile stayed with you, her scent, her gracious movements, her bites on your hips.

Did she ever think about this night? Did she even remember? Or she had girls like this everywhere. Obsessing over them and not you.

In a couple of weeks you got the first text from an unknown number. "Tonight. At your place. Drinks on me."

So very thoughtful. When Yelena was having a particularly bad time, she was inviting you to a hotel. Places could change but not her attitude. Always all over you when she needed that. Giving you biggest pleasures but leaving you in greatest distress.

Why couldn't you have her for more than a few hours. Why couldn't you trust her. Why couldn't you share your own life with her.

Still Yelena has chosen you. You believed there was a reason. She could have chosen anyone but it was you. Always you.

Once you got a familiar text during your date. You had to have those. Otherwise you would just destroy yourself waiting for Yelena. A few dates, a few nights. Yelena didn't care if when she needed you would be with her. You needed those days not to think about her. You were already having dreams about her, waking up distraught.

You wanted to feel her near you. To hide in her strong embrace. To feel her weight on top of you with that possessive roar of hers.

Sometimes you felt all of this wasn't real, a human being can't behave like that. Maybe Yelena just couldn't feel attachments. Removed them.

But this time the text was different. "I hope you're doing OK. Can we meet tonight? I'd like to talk."

Since when Yelena wanted a dialogue and not a monologue. You were embarrassed to admit it but you felt familiar tingles in your body.

This time it wasn't a hotel. Another apartment. She wanted to play games? You were ready, you had nothing left but to obey her.

Usually when you were entering the room Yelena was already relaxed with the glass of whatever she was drinking. In her black jeans and a t-shirt. Offering you to sit near her or on her lap.

This time it was different. She was tense. Her fists clenched. Loose hair and a colorful clothes.

"Hey" even her voice was different. It lacked that cold and metal you were used to.

"Yelena, I..." You didn't know what to do. Usually you would already be kissing her jaw and asking about her day. But now you were seeing a different person in front of you.

"let me start, ok?" She tried so hard to sound soft. "Are you... How are doing?"

"As usual. Fine". You mastered a smile. "And you?"

"I..." She let out a nervous sigh. "I have to tell you so much".

She made a few steps towards you. You instinctevly backed away.

"Tell than. Where have you been for two months?"

"That's the thing. Now I can tell you everything."

She sounded almost hopeful. It was supposed to be her new beginning. With you, far from the past. Far from the blood.

"Why do you think I care?". There was a reason why she didn't use her charm, why she wasn't herself. Why?

"Right... You... After how I behaved you shouldn't care. But I implore you to listen."

You had a choice. You could just walk away. Leave her alone. With her demons.

"Fine."

She was given a chance. She's not going to lose it.

"Thank you. I..." She wanted to touch you, grab you. But she controlled herself. Not someone, she did.

"You know I've been working undercover for some time. You know it's shady people and shady business. You know I was trained to kill. To do the impossible."

You silently nodded.

"Yeah. No need to recap that. But a few months ago I've learned a very important thing. We were controlled."

"What?" You couldn't believe what she said. You were not living in a comic book, right?

"Chemicals, brain implants." She let out an awkward chuckle. "I fucking knew it. There was a reason for me to behave like that."

"like what?" You were calm and quiet now.

But Yelena was loosing it. She started pacing the room trying not to get too close to you.

"You know what I mean. I would never... Now I know that. Now I feel it."

"you would never what?"

Yelena stopped abruptly. This time so close to you. This time allowing herself to inhale you.

"I would never leave you. I was controlled. My body, my mind. I was allowed to have a distraction. We all were. With giving us a time for ourselves, next time control could be even stronger. Mind even more submissive. Every month new distraction."

" I was your distraction?"

"Yes, no" she was desperate. "I mean, you were supposed to be. But it was always something more than that. Now I know that you matter. You're important to me."

"I am to believe that with a wave of magic wand you turned into yourself?"

You wanted to hear yes. You wanted to have a chance to love her. To take what you needed and deserved.

"I know, it sounds ridiculous. But it's the truth."

You could feel her on yourself. So close. But this time it wasn't you who was burning. It was her. Open and fragile. Asking for a support.

"You used me."

"I know, you can't forgive it or forget. But all this time I was coming back to you, every time. I was obssesed. And now I know why. That what the only thing I was allowed to feel. I'm so sorry." You saw tears in her eyes. " if I could turn back the time I wouldn't bother you. Wouldn't give you this burden. If you want me to I'll disappear. But now... " She took your hand. "I ask for a chance to show who I really am. To fix everything, to make amends."

You knew it was the truth. It all made sense. A harsh reality. The first woman you fell in love with was mindcontrolled. And now free she was asking you for a chance. For a possibility, for a hope. She was raw and quick in her judgements, in her sentences, in her requests. Now or never. Free with her.

You knew it would take you so much time to make everything work. You to trust her, Yelena to open up. But you were ready for it, you gave her that chance.

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘Love Bites’ Vampire!Saeran Choi Drabbles

Hello! This is one of my slightly belated pieces for @mysme-rbb, which I worked on with the very, very talented and sweet @amagicalduckling <3 Their art is so beautiful and I’m honoured to have been paired with them for some Saeran pieces! Please check out @amagicalduckling for more of their beautiful artwork, they are criminally underrated!!  Tw: mentions of blood, biting, vampirism, rough kissing Will be under the cut after Ray!

Vampire! Ray Drabble

Ray was melancholic by nature, you knew that, but you’d never had been able to guess why it if hadn’t been for that fateful night in the garden. He always did such a good job of hiding his fangs from you and brushing his hair over his ears so you couldn’t see their slightly pointed tips. He always kept his distance as best as he could, never coming too close into your personal space. You’d assumed it was out of respect and the nervousness of overstepping the boundaries, this idea was always aided by the fact that he usually looked a little bit strained whenever he was in your company.

The way you came to find out about Ray was because you had foolishly pricked your finger on a rose that he had been trying to show you outside. With the beautiful arrangements only being illuminated by moonlight, it had been difficult to see what you were doing, and you’d placed your finger directly onto the little spike and yelped in pain. As soon as you had pulled your hand back, to indicate what had caused you to cry out, Ray had immediately brought his own hand up to his mouth and feverishly covered it. You were confused and thought that perhaps Ray was sensitive to the sight of blood, but it was when he turned to run from you that you saw the white, iridescent fangs peering from behind his lips. You saw them, and he knew that you had. Ray ran at top speed away from you, leaving you with the drop of the blood slowly dripping down the side of your finger.

You felt a little lightheaded from the sight and had to stumble your way over to the bench, a… vampire? Surely, such things like that didn’t exist. They weren’t real. They were myths. Folklore. Children’s horror stories to tell before bed. And yet, as you considered Ray, really thought about him, you realised how quickly it all added up. He was so pale, sickly looking even at the best of times. You’d thought that the prominent blue veins on his neck and wrists was a result of his pasty complexion, but that was clearly not the truth of the matter. It also occurred to you that you never really saw him during the day, but he had always excused this fact as he must work arduously long hours and the only time he could find to get away and visit you was into the early hours of the night. While you supposed that there was at least some truth in that statement, it didn’t help the fact that it aligned with what you thought could be coming into fruition. Was he really a vampire? Had he been trying to hide it from you for all this time?  

And those fangs. Those could not be denied. They were the teeth of a predator, a hidden threat that he had tried so hard to keep a secret from you. So many questions raced through your head, and yet all you could worry about was where Ray was. He had left so quickly, clearly a bit distressed. You felt somewhat guilty for your own carelessness, but how were you to know? There was no way you would have guessed what was really happening here at Mint Eye. You had only been here to test a game, for crying out loud.

Suddenly, you felt anxious to be alone in the gardens at night, especially without Ray. Even if he was hiding something this serious from you, he was still the only person that you had gotten to make yourself friendly with. Well, in his case, more than a little bit friendly, but that was besides the point in that moment. You stood, trying to find your way through the maze of flowers and get back to your room but with little success. As you turned the corner, you spotted a figure at the other end of the path and it caused you to cry out in surprise, maybe slightly even in fear. It was Ray.

You’d never thought that the sight of Ray would ever frighten you, but as he stood there, pale and gaunt surrounded by the red flushes of rose petals, you had to wonder how you hadn’t realised it sooner. He looked guilty, and scared. So, so scared. You put your hands up to him slowly, asking if he was okay, but instead of receiving any sort of reply about his own wellbeing, Ray flurried out several apologies at you. He averted his gaze downwards, as though he felt as though he was no longer allowed to look at you directly for what he was. You stared at him as he spoke, focused on the slight protrusion of his sharp teeth over his lips. It was obvious that he had practiced speaking without making them visible, so you could only really see them if you were already looking for them.

‘Ray… It’s okay.’ You whispered, coming a little bit closer to him. He took a step back, moving his back up against the roses further so that he was surrounded by them. If it had been at any other moment, you would have taken the time to think about the fact he looked like a delicate portrait right then, the passion of the red surrounding his pale frame. But alas, you did not have that luxury.

‘It’s not! I scared you, oh how could I ever forgive myself! How could you ever forgive me for this! I should have been able to show more restraint… My savior was right, she’s always right…’ He replied almost frantically, to the point where you weren’t quite sure if he was talking to you or telling you his own inner monologue.

‘M-My Savior said that I’m not strong enough yet, which is why I find… you difficult to be around. I want to be around you always but- she says you’re too tempting for someone like me.’

‘Too tempting…?’ You asked, a slightly unsure as to what he meant. That was, until he gestured to your bleeding fingertip, and it suddenly made more sense to you. ‘I don’t mind if you… want to be around me. I want to be around you too.’ You added, attempting to phrase it in the same way that he did, since he was clearly skirting around using certain vocabulary. It made you realised that there was a good chance that Ray was unhappy about the fact he wanted you in such a way. If he allowed himself to get too close, he would inevitably bring you pain.

As you stepped closer to him, you watched as he reached his own leathered hand towards his mouth, anxiously biting onto the tips of the fabric. He wasn’t just chewing it, he was really biting it, to the point you were worried he might hurt himself.

You were suddenly moving quickly down the path towards him, ‘Ray! Please, stop that. It’s okay! I’m not scared of you.’

‘I’m scared that I might hurt you!’ He almost wailed. You knew that there was an obsessive nature to Ray, which walked hand in hand with his melancholy, but you knew that he wouldn’t hurt you like this. For the most part, he was tender-hearted and sensitive. Of course, he had room in that heart for hate, but yet, so much more room for sensitivity.

‘You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you.’

‘Please, be more careful with who you award your trust to. I don’t deserve it.’ He replied, but pulled his own glove away stiffly, since he didn’t want to worry you any further. At such a distance, he had nothing to distract himself from the pull he felt towards your blood.

‘If you want it, take it. I don’t want to see you be so strained over this. I don’t know what’s happening here at Magenta, but I know that you’re good. And kind.’ You were at his side, offering your hand to him. Initially, he tried to move his body away from your hand and cover his teeth again with his hand, but it was evident that he was growing more and more needy by the passing second. You tried to assure him that it was okay and reached out a slightly shaky hand to his cold cheek. ‘And I want to help you.’

After a few moments of tentative consideration, he took your offer. Ray watched your eyes as he held your finger in both of his hands, as though it was something fragile, delicate even. He hesitated before bringing it to his own lips, the thin line of dark red suddenly giving a burst of colour to his otherwise exceedingly white pallor. He gently took the blood that was already at the surface of your skin, closing his eyes as he did so, but you couldn’t decide whether it was out of shame or whether it was to savour the moment between the two of you. You gasped as you felt the sharpness of his teeth graze against your skin before he let the tip of them bite into your soft flesh, producing more of the red he was so desperately craving. It wasn’t as painful as you thought it would be, but your heart was still racing, nonetheless. When he was done, he pressed a single, sorry kiss into the palm of your hand and apologised for hurting you, adding that he was undeserving of your pain as he wiped the rest of the blood away with a handkerchief out of his pocket.

‘I’d rather be hurt a thousand times over than for you to have to suffer even once…’ He whispered into the darkness of the garden. Not that he would feel bold enough to tell you, but Ray undeniably saw the poetry in tasting your blood. He’s ashamed of what he is, but he relished in the fact that you were willing to share such a vital piece of yourself with him like this. He entirely made a mental plan to carry the handkerchief with him at all times, as a token and reminder of this newfound connection with you.

Vampire! Suit Saeran Drabble 

Meeting Saeran was an experience unto itself, let alone processing the surprise you received in how differently he treated you and himself. Saeran doesn’t hide what he is in the same way that Ray did, he acts proud of it. A shining example of what Mint Eye could offer to people with the Elixir, but only if they were strong enough to deserve it. He’s the strongest Believer and the strongest Vampire produced from the Elixir, The Savior said it herself. She called him her ‘One True Offspring’. When you had asked what that meant, since Ray had never mentioned anything like that to you, Saeran had angrily snapped that firstly, he shouldn’t have to answer your questions and secondly, it meant that he had been turned using The Savior’s own blood in the Elixir given to him. That meant that he was special, and better than anyone else there. He repeated that a lot, but you were never quite who if he was saying that to you or to himself but he clearly made an attempt to believe it, at least for his own sake.

Saeran carried himself around Magenta so differently to Ray, you heard his footsteps from down the corridor when he wanted you to know to anticipate him and yet you never heard him when he suddenly appeared behind you. He was most definitely choosing when to make his presence known and when he wanted to startle you from standing silently around a corner. Saeran certainly disproved to you the lore that Vampires needed to be invited into rooms in order to gain entrance, as he came in whenever he pleased. He never hid his fangs either or tried to cover his ears either with his unkempt hair, if anything, he seemed to enjoy the attention that could be brought to them by smirking at you or asking if ‘you like what you see, Princess?’ You could feel the anger in his voice, he was practically dripping with a rage that he did not know how to release properly. It weighed on his shoulders, and somehow seemed to push him in on himself to the point where he was constantly forcing himself to stand taller, to be louder so that he would not be entirely consumed by it. The atmosphere he carried was tense, to say the least. It seemed to make him paler. Saeran’s dark undereyes were no longer something a simple goodnight sleep could fix; they were almost bruises of their own. Purple, sunken.

While he was not lacking for blood in the same way that Ray had suffered without, it appeared that Saeran was overworking himself to the point that the added sustenance did little to actually aid him, so he kept on coming back for more and more each time. He appeared at any hour of the day or night, which suggested that he was no longer really sleeping, or if he was he was only sleeping for very short amounts of time, and it was really showing him his face. You were sure his appearance must have sat somewhere between Dorian Gray and his portrait, beautiful yet rotting. The way he felt on the inside was slowly, yet surely, manifesting itself. He was so capable of kindness, and yet he never allowed himself to admit to it. If Saeran didn’t have his cruelty, he didn’t have anything. He needed to hold onto it to hold himself together as the Persecutor.

His kisses were rougher too, leaving your lips feeling puffy, tender, and always breathless. He seemed to thrive on the fact he could make you feel so weak, as though it was precisely your weakness that gave him the strength he needed to carry on this strained life he led. He’d sneak up behind you frequently, with the confidence that Ray never quite found, and bury his face into the side of your neck, running rough kisses along it until you sigh against him from the touch, not even bothering to move your hair out of the way as he did so. Even as he kissed you like this, he’d taunt you for enjoying his touch so much in comparison to Ray, who barely ‘had the guts’ to touch you freely. Saeran would lift up your finger to show him the tiny bite impressions that Ray had originally left, only to have Saeran go over them more harshly with his own bite, before moving back up to your throat.

He dragged his fangs along the thin skin of your neck, so you knew it was coming, before promptly biting you. He doesn’t try to be delicate like Ray, and he’s more likely to take too much blood and leave you feeling woozy. He’ll take as much blood as he wants, really. Once you inevitably faint in his arms, he’d usually carry you back and placed you on the bed, but only so he can reprimand you for being such a burden to him. He’d never admit to anything else, especially not to feeling bad about pushing you to your limit.

‘Heh… Don’t look so happy with yourself, your blood tastes like shit anyway. I should go and find someone better, someone sweeter.’ He smirked before laughing, his eyes alive with a frantic excitement. He still had a small steak of blood running down his lips and onto his chin, which he promptly wiped away onto his black suit sleeve without releasing you from his unwavering gaze.

There were times when he’d suddenly stop laughing and looked at his blood-covered hand in disgust, before dragging that same gaze over towards you. He’d look at the redness on his hands and try to wipe it away, even after it dried and would not budge without soap and water. Saeran would still furiously rub his skin against the fabric of his clothes in a vain attempt to wipe his slate clean. You were never able to decipher what Saeran felt in the moment that he decided that ‘play time’ was over, but he never seemed happy about the outcome of the collision the two of you had found yourselves in, even when he was the one that instigated it. He’d half-assedly throw a bag of food from the kitchen at you, telling you that you ought to be grateful for having such a kind master for feeding you, before promptly turning on his heels to leave and slamming the door shut.

He was complicated, that was for sure.

 Vampire! GE Saeran Drabble 

Saeran had been through so much, and yet he was coming out stronger and stronger from it each day. He had a lot to process, about himself, the things that had happened to him and the things that he has done to other people, especially to you. Saeran had a difficult time accepting the he hurt you. He understands that he did it and he has accepted the fact that he did it, but somehow his heart never wanted to believe it. No matter how many times you told him he needed to forgive himself for it, Saeran knew that he never could.

He tried to make it up to you in every way that he could think of. He was so loving, so caring. He always served your food first, gave you extra helpings and always made dessert for afterwards. His food was always so well made, filled with all the vitamins and minerals that your body could have possibly needed and always tasted like he had been cooking his whole life. He’d even try to feed you the last few bites if you’d let him, just to make sure that you’d gotten enough food. It’s sweet, and he does it out of care, but there’s a part of Saeran that does it because he feels as though he needs to make amends to your body for the way he treated it.

He’s not keen on drinking your blood, he feels as though he’s taking advantage of you and doesn’t enjoy the fact that he has to hurt you to be able to do it. He’d looked into alternatives that he could try, such as blood banks or from animals, just any means of supply that didn’t involve hurting you. It didn’t work out very well and in the end it started to do him more harm than good, so he usually just tried to wait for as long as he can in between biting you. And even then, he waits for you to offer because he doesn’t want to pressure you into giving up so sacred for him, Saeran would much rather have himself suffer than to make you feel any sort of uneasy around him.

He was a lot more considerate and knowledgeable about the outside world nowadays, and would look into various ways of making it less painful for you: the most effective one to date being numbing creams. He’s not a fan of the chemical taste of the cream in his mouth, but he would happily deal with it if it was for your sake. While he did still have a preference for your neck, because it felt a little bit more romantic to him, Saeran would always give you the choice on where you wanted him to bite. He knows it’s not his body to dictate, and if anything, he actually wants you to put some more of your own rules in place about it. He’d be more than happy if you wanted him to do it somewhere less visible so that you could hide it from people. As long as you weren’t hiding your actual relationship with him, he wouldn’t mind. He’s very understanding of the fact that sometimes it is a little awkward to have marks like that in public and that you didn’t want to answer questions from strangers all of the time.

He was very gentle with it, making sure to apply the numbing cream beforehand and to avoid any particularly sensitive spots while never biting too deep. Saeran never took more than what was absolutely necessary either, even if you told him that it was okay to do it. You figured that he always remembered the time that Saeran would make you faint after taking too much blood, and that it must weigh on his consciousness heavily. Telling him to take more than the bottom-line wasn’t something you frequently told him to do though, since you already knew he was restraining himself and trying to put some boundaries in place for your own protection, so you didn’t want to push him. He cleaned the area after drinking from it and pressed a little patterned band-aid onto it and sealed it with a kiss, just for good measure. It really didn’t sit right with him that he had to hurt you like this so he tried to make amends for it wherever he could.

He always wiped his mouth before he kissed you, since he thought it would be rather cruel to make you taste the blood that you had just willingly offered up to him. You’d find the taste unpleasant anyway, even if Saeran enjoyed it. Saeran was rather poetic at the best of times, but it was especially true when he was feeling a little bit drunk off of your love (and blood). If you ever asked him what your blood tasted like, he’d write you a verbal essay on how sweet it is. It’s intoxicating to him and it always had been, even when he was both Ray and Saeran. The two of them were so confused by their sudden feelings and this undeniable pull towards you that neither could escape from. If you let him, he’ll probably even get a little bit cliché with how he feels like he’s reached some form of enlightenment by your blood being the thing that can kept him alive, along with how he can feel your love beating through his veins and giving him strength. Sometimes you can’t help but cringe at some of the things that Saeran says, but he means it in such a sweet way that you find it even more affectionate.

In times like this, Saeran was so adorable and kind-hearted. He generally felt a bit bad about himself, since he knows that he can’t ever become a human again as a result of his time in Mint Eye, so you have to make the extra effort to love him in this moment. You cupped his face with both of your hands and told him how precious he was to you and that he is, and always will be, the most important thing in your life.

Vampire! Unknown Drabble

There were no words that allowed you to accurately describe Unknown. He was exactly that. You never quite knew what he was thinking and for the most part he definitely relished in that fact. His actions were unpredictable, and he barely seemed to keep a routine for too long, lest someone figured it out and learned to predict his moves. Everyone walked on eggshells around him out of fear and uncertainty, and he seemed to enjoy it. He found it humorous, even. He enjoyed taking you by surprise in particular, it was his main form of entertainment. You were a toy for him to play with when he got bored.

He was sort of what you expected a modern-day vampire to be, look-wise and attitude-wise. His attire was certainly a change. It felt as though he was trying to actively reflect the anguish he felt within, but at the same time, it was an external threat. A threat that if you got too close to him, you’d be in danger of getting hurt yourself. The spikes were enough to ensure that, even if Unknown wasn’t. He reminded you of Saeran, but you could tell that there was a stark difference between the two of them. Unknown rarely displayed anger in the same way that Saeran did, it was certainly there, but it wasn’t as explosive. Sometimes it was cold, warped, and vindictive underneath layers of you weren’t sure what. Like Saeran, he made little attempt to hide his fangs or ears, but he didn’t necessarily show them off unless he was actively trying to taunt someone. It was more as though he didn’t care about them until they were of use to him. At which point, he’d smirk and release the sharpened canines: a spark of excitement in his eyes inviting you closer, to dare test him.

When he wanted to feed from you, he’d summon you to wherever he is rather than coming to see you himself. After all, you were a failed experiment who couldn’t even do your job of talking to the RFA correctly; being an assistant was the best job you’d be able to manage, so he told you that you ought to be grateful for it especially since Magenta wasn’t in the habit of keeping ‘useless’ things around for very long.

He was usually desperate when he called for you because of the long hours he forced his body to endure, even throughout the daytime when he’d naturally be sleeping. He entirely believed that because he’s strong, he wasn’t allowed to feel anything except for that strength, so he had to keep himself at the same standard of work every single day in order to maintain it. He’d burn the candle at both ends and then continue trying to light the wick. When you thought of him, there was always one particular instance that came to mind when he had no choice but to display an element of weakness to you, and it enraged him. He had been out on a recon mission for The Savior and had over-exerted himself in the process, sustaining an injury. He had crashed into your room afterwards, panting and holding onto his bleeding wound, drinking enough blood in one go that he’d made you  back onto your bed with light-headedness. He hadn’t done that since, and rarely pushed you past that point, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to dance with the limit of it. He’d say it was because he preferred to tease you with it, to savour what belonged to him, even though you knew it wasn’t his only reason for taking it slow.

How he bit you depended on what mood he was in, but his typical go-to is to have you sitting on his lap while he’s at his desk and facing him so that he can pull you towards him by your hips, making sure that your collarbones are already level with his mouth. He shouldn’t have to do any of the work, he wanted you already in position for him.

Unknown’s hands were roughly on your shoulders, both pulling you towards him and holding you steady. He bites first, kissed later. There’s little warning to feeling his teeth, except for the second or so beforehand where you feel his hot breath fan over you, just before you feel the sharp break of that skin underneath. Sometimes he’d hover for a few seconds longer than usual because he sought the thrill of you not knowing when the pain was coming. He has a preference for the neck and collarbones, not that he’d never explain why to you but, simply, he doesn’t think he should have to anyway. You’d have laughed at the cliché nature of it, but you’d rather he kept it to the same area instead of spreading it all over your body. That being said, he had bitten your thighs a couple of times when your neck had been a little too sore for him to drink from there, when the skin needed time to heal.

Unknown swapped between biting and kissing at your neck, making his way up towards your mouth to continue the blood-tinted kiss there. Each time you tasted the metallic tinge on your tongue, it left your breathless, but not as much as the bite he’d leave on your lower lip did. You wouldn’t admit it to Unknown, but those kisses were some of your favourites that you had shared with him.

Not only did he leave your skin with actual bites, but he made point of littering your throat with lovebites each time too. As though the real bites weren’t enough for him, Unknown always had to go one step further with his act of possession over you. It was a cocky game, in his own mind, he needed to show that you were his and that no other Believer was permitted to look at you in the same that that he did.

When he was done and needed the wipe the blood away from his face, he’d wipe it straight onto the back of his hand. He’d make no effort to properly clean it until he went to wash his hands, it didn’t seem to bother him.

 Vampire! Savior Saeran Drabble 

It’s ironic, to Saeran, that crosses and biblical imagery did nothing to inhibit a Vampire, especially considering how linked the two aesthetics were. They truly went hand in damned hand. Mint Eye had always been steeped in Catholicism, as it was the core religion of the previous Savior, but as Saeran was forced to take the throne, he had not made any changes to those principles. He had been taught to instil and swallow those same beliefs in himself as they had been handed to him, even if they were not truly his own. He had been prepared in such a way that he would be able to take over Mint Eye when he had truly reached the peak of his strength and was intended to forge a new way for the organisation.

You had been bathed, dressed, and summoned to the throne room, where many Believers and the Savior in question were already gathered. You’d heard whispers that you were going to be cleansed, but the atmosphere you found yourself in did not seem to fit the one you associated with a cleansing. However, The Savior had yet to conduct a ceremony of his own since taking the throne and you started to fear that, perhaps, you were to be the leading spectacle. You walked between the Believers, as you were told to kneel before Saeran.

He was so lifeless in comparison to the Saerans you had once encountered before him. He was so sad, empty. At the very least, Ray’s melancholy had an element of hope to it, but as The New Savior stood before you, there was little more than a shell of the man that you had come to know. Your interaction with him was limited, but it was so plainly obvious to you that he was just being used as a pawn, a pawn in disguise of the King. It seemed distinctly sacrilegious to have a vampire dressed in religious garments, but you supposed that Saeran had probably not received a choice in either of those matters.

Another Believer came up from behind you and asked for your wrist, which he then wiped over with disinfectant fluid before presenting it to The Savior. Saeran reached out his hand to grab your arm, pulling it towards him. He was silent as his teeth suddenly found their way into your wrist, but he barely took more than a small mouthful of blood. Even with your arm in his grasp, Saeran said nothing and continued to just plainly stare ahead into the masses, occasionally throwing glances in your direction.

‘Are you ready for the next initiation step?’ He asked. You could still see your blood in his mouth, the thin line of red providing a stark colour contrast to the rest of his chilly pallor.

‘Yes.’ You replied.

Once done, he turned and pushed the red Elixir bottle towards you, tilting it into your open mouth. It was lukewarm and overwhelmed all of your senses with the metallic taste of blood and chemicals. It burned. Tasting blood like this felt so wrong. You felt it fill your mouth and you forced it down your throat swallow, gasping for air as soon as it passed. Was that… his blood? In the same way that he had been given his Savior’s blood?

You were asked to stand as Saeran took another step towards you. You tried to watch his eyes, looking for any hint of the life that Ray and Saeran had once brought to them, but The Savior in front of you had clearly managed to subdue that hope. Or rather, he had been forced and conditioned to abandon it.

Almost sombrely, he pressed a small kiss against your lips; causing you to once again receive a fresh taste of blood. Except this time, it was the remnants of your own that had been left on his own tongue. There was little free affection in his kiss, and it appeared to be more about the process of the initiation rather than anything to do with kindness or tenderness. It only lasted for a second or so and was nothing intimate, ending almost as soon as it had begun. He pulled away first, placing the bottle that he had been previously holding back onto the throne room altar.

You were hugely aware of the fact that you were still being watched by an entire room of people and felt so exposed, so seen. It was uncomfortable to have to wait there for it to be over when you would have much rather have had this be a private affair: not that you had been warned in advance anyway.

He pressed his bloody lips against your forehead, leaving a red stain against your skin. Saeran then reached a cold hand towards your face, dragging his thumb across the bloody kissmark and smearing it into the shape of an eye. A baptism.

Vampire! SE Saeran Drabble

He was trying. Saeran was really trying. Being around people was difficult, well, everything was a little difficult for him. It was taking all of his energy to adjust and process things, so you rarely saw him during the day. He was always pretty low energy and spent the majority of his time asleep or alone, with you only ever really catching glimpses of him at night. You guessed that it was at least a good thing that he was catching up on the sleep that he had deprived himself of for so many years, even if it meant you rarely got to see him.

Saeran didn’t really talk to anyone anyway, only you and his brother. That is, whenever he can be bothered to talk to Saeyoung as he often complained that he’s too tired for conversation. He usually didn’t have the energy to talk to his brother that much because of how hyperactive the other was. Saeyoung understands that Saeran needs time, even if it hurt him to not be able to pull his brother close after all of those years apart. Irreparable damage had been done where they would need years to repair it. There were even a few tense moments where Saeran had thought that Saeyoung was taunting him, or not trusting him, by wearing his crucifix necklace. Of course, his brother tried to explain that that was not the case and that Saeran wasn’t affected by religious symbols anyway, but it still seemed to annoy him. Eventually, Saeyoung stopped wearing his necklace and kept it in a drawer next to his bed, feeling as though the faith he believed in was probably redundant now that he knew how it had been tainted by the people he trusted.

Saeyoung had offered to let Saeran drink his blood before, as a way of making reparations to his twin, but Saeran flat out denied it: saying it would be disgusting to drink from him. He also threw in the comment that Saeyoung’s blood would taste ‘like shit’ because of his diet anyway, which was entirely understandable. Neither of you could fault Saeran for that.

Saeran felt rather conflicted and tentative about drinking your blood, often feeling pangs of guilt for how he previously treated you as Unknown. He often waited right up until he was pretty desperate before letting on that he was in need, and you’d have to realise on your own that his tiredness was not just coming from social exhaustion. He probably wouldn’t ask, so you’d have to offer.

When it happened, it usually happened in the same way with Saeran turning you around so that your back was facing him and you couldn’t look at him. He already felt some sort of way about biting you in the first place so the last thing he wanted was to have to look into your eyes as he did it. He felt more comfortable like this, and he felt as though he could take his time rationalising it a bit more when he wasn’t being watched. ‘Don’t turn around.’ He said tiredly. He sighed, clearly feeling a little awkward but not wanting to rush into it. It would be in this moment where he thought about how roughly he used to do it to you and wonder where he had gotten that confidence from. Truly, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Saeran placed his hands onto your shoulders, pausing right above where he was going to bite for a few seconds, letting his hot breath fan over you until he finally broke the skin. He wasn’t as rough as he used to be, and it was quite obvious how much he had been restraining himself by how quickly he drank. ‘Sorry.’ He whispered under the wight of the guilt. He always sounded like he was crying when he did this, even if you didn’t see any tears fall. You placed your hand on top of his own just to let him know that it was okay. Saeran wasn’t one for words, so he appreciated the support even if he didn’t tell you that directly.

He sat behind you for a few moments while he calmed down, his thumbs ever so slightly rubbing circles into your shoulders; a rare sign of intimacy from him. He doesn’t kiss you in that moment for a number of reasons. He felt parasitic, and he didn’t want to tie that emotion to affection. And yet, undeniably because he doesn’t want you to see him for what he is. Saeran carries a lot of shame, especially when he’s feeling so vulnerable as he does when he’s in that state. He wiped the blood from his lips onto the back of his sleeve, but would change his jumper shortly afterwards because it made him feel dirty to even look at. Saeran didn’t want to sit with your blood on him, that was cruel to the both of you.

You’d often find that he’d leave you a little gift the next day but would claim to not have any knowledge of it. It was always a little thing that only he would think to bring you, such a small flower from the garden or one of his snacks out of the kitchen.

[judyhopps934-mt-zd]

Thoughts on Miraculous Shanghai: The Legend of Lady Dragon

Warning: Spoilers! Other than that, have fun!

Also, if you want to watch the full English Dub, click here!

I love how we saw Fei's backstory as to how she became guardian of the Prodigious and how it was actually stolen because there are people who want money from her adoptive father's studio. It was also sad to see that the values her father implemented into her fade due to the circumstances they found themselves in. I speak for all of us to say that this girl needs a hug.

The intro as always is beautiful! Since it was not the first thing we saw, I was confused when looking through the episodes on YT.

I always enjoy Marinette's monologues, and this one was over how she looked forward to her holiday (it was like a vacation type thing). And how she looked forward to spend time with Adrien since his father was going to let him out. It was all perfect...

...until she went to deliver Uncle Wang's package and found out Adrien left for Shanghai at the last minute. But all is good though because she could go to Shanghai, deliver the gift personally, and see Adrien.

It hurts me to see that the writers made Marinette's purpose to go to Shanghai is to see Adrien when she can do that in Paris! It frustrates me that her character development goes back to square one, even as the protagonist of the show. People might point out this was before season 3, but I have a few points that say otherwise or that the writers are mixing things up. But first, the plot points and thoughts of everything else.

Also, I get that Marinette is 14/15/16 at the time of this episode, but how likely is it to send your child on their own halfway across the world??? On SHORT NOTICE??? I swear Sabine and Tom are too chill with this, but then again, there would be no story.

Also, I love how Ladybug and Chat Noir took the opportunity of their patrols without akumas to bond more. The Ladynoir in this episode I stan!

Gabriel you piece of trash! If you did not plan to spend time with your son, why take him to Shanghai when he was hoping to spend time with you?! And do not say "for business purposes" because even though Adrien is a face in the brand, at least don't give him false hope and that bs!

Nooro, thank you for trying to talk Gabriel out of it, but he is literally a wall (talking to Gabriel=talking to a wall)

I will say, the waiting for 15 years thing is very concerning.

Uncle Wang has been looking forward to see Marinette in person in Shanghai to learn more about her roots. He is ecstatic and its just heartwarming and heartbreaking when you think that part of Marinette's stay will be related to Adrien.

At least we see one thing that makes Marinette's stay not all about Adrien though: she is genuinely interested in her origins! Like when she asks about her family's traditional songs and about her mom, even learning her real name!

Speaking of which, Sabine's name is Xia Ping and only called herself Sabine when she started living in France. Also, I love her photo!

Bastille the bird that was around since forever is an icon!

Also, I can't believe Uncle Wang has not taken a break since Sabine moved to France, like what the hell??? Give this guy a break for goodness sake.

Thank you Gabriel for having one brain cell and allowing your son to leave the hotel! We still hate you for everything else though.

Its cool that Kwamis speak all of the languages. It is also the most logical thing because their wielder could be from anywhere. My question is are they taught the languages, does it form when a concept forms in the universe and they start existing, or like everything else is it magic?

Gorilla is iconic for two reasons: he is still a self care king, and he was willing to give Adrien some space to get action figures.

And now as I wrote that, this is where I am getting confused and start to believe this is post season 3: 1) Gorilla seems less anxious about being in a new place (unlike NY where he stayed in the hotel room the entire time), and 2) His obsession for action figures was shown in Party Crasher (season 3), which makes me wonder if the explanation is during season 3 or this episode hints at season 3. For the first point, it could be because Gabriel was not in NY to his knowledge.

Fei appears again and explains how she views the world and how she also uses that to help and take advantage of others.

She almost steals Adrien's phone and miraculous until Gorilla steps in. It hurts me because she is a good person but had to resort to stealing for a reason that we will explore soon.

Plagg, we always say your stomach causes trouble, but this time, you brought Adrien to Marinette's uncle...

...but also that ironically separated them as Marinette found them just as they climbed into the taxi.

This is also where Fei (wearing a disguise) crosses paths with Marinette and steals her purse. Then she went for the kwagatama and miraculous.

Things get worse for Fei as these boys that took a photo with Adrien earlier started chasing her. Then Marinette started going after them.

That is when she realized she was robbed and understandably, she was more horrified of losing her Miraculous.

Adrien shows up to Uncle Wang's home/restaurant. So many iconic moments happen.

1) Bastille says something about love between Marinette and Adrien. And Adrien responds with the line that makes us want to jump into the TV and talk some sense into him.

2) You say that "she's JuST a fRIenD" yet you stay over with her mom's uncle so you can surprise her lol. Adrien, you kill me and every other Adrienette fan with this contradicting statements.

Speaking of Marinette, she gets lost and has trouble communicating with others because she does not speak Chinese. And at some point says that she regrets not taking lessons?! Uh, what does this imply, that she refused lessons or that she did not have the opportunity for lessons??????? I NEED ANSWERS!

Can we say once again how talented and artistic Marinette is? Bad time? Moving on!

Uncle Wang is unaware of Marinette's tardiness, and Adrien just jokes about it. Considering that she is technically missing (reality is that she's lost), I don't think its time to joke about it.

The lady that gave Marinette some earrings that look like the Miraculous is so nice and bless her soul

The person from the pawn shop is the bad guy that we see at the very end of the NY special! And he knows about what happened to Fei's father! I am grateful that he sees no value in Marinette's stuff so he won't sell it for a lot, but I hate how he's greedy for money and was willing to exploit Fei's hunger for answers and Marinette needing her miraculous for personal gains.

Meanwhile, the boys from the photo with Adrien that chased Fei were trying to get Marinette's attention (they found her kwagatama when Fei dropped it running away and fighting them), but she thought they were gonna attack her. And then she bumps into Fei, who helps her escape.

Marinette finds comfort in Fei for being willing to "help" her (remember that she was gonna bring her to the pawn shop). She also finds Fei as a helpful, kind person who is brave: something that Fei does not see in herself, but does not have the heart to tell Marinette the truth.

Meanwhile, Chat has transformed to find Marinette and its the most endearing thing I've seen! Adrien, you blind oblivious fool! You care about her more than you think!

They arrive in the pawn shop, Tikki escaped the claw machine, and Marinette finds the earrings...for 100000 Yuan.

Fei, understanding what its like to have something entrusted to you be stolen, gets in a spat with the pawn shop owner in Chinese, accusing the owner for greed and accusing Fei for theft, while Marinette just stands her.

Also, when did Marinette become naive???????? I get that she's in another country and they are speaking in a different language that she does not understand, but based on the tone of their voices and shouting, I feel like she should have sensed something was off.

Fei swaps the earrings the lady gave Marinette and took the miraculous back. To the lady, this is why your soul is blessed. So bless your soul!!!

Apparently, Marinette realized what happened and said that Fei stole her earrings and feels bad for the man. Girl, you do not have to feel guilty for the man! He was about to destroy them before he thought about sentimental value! Also, he did not pay Fei anything for them! (Felt that this should be brought up because even though Fei was wrong in stealing her stuff, she was also robbed from potential cash and answers, therefore the man was owed nothing.)

The boys from Adrien's photo are actually vigilantes of Shanghai (and will be referred as such from now on), wanting to bring Fei to justice for stealing, which catches Marinette's attention, but not enough to ask any questions.

Also Marinette is not wanted as a criminal. She is missing as Uncle Wang called the police.

Fei still lives in the school, which has been in ruins. Despite not having much, she still offers Marinette a cup of what I believe is water (or tea?). See peoples, Fei is a good person at heart (if y'all aren't aware of it by now)

Gabriel saw and recognized Marinette. This is horrifying and if it is prior to season 3, we see why he tries so hard to target her. Or reasons why he targets her in season 4 along with everything else we know from "Truth".

Fei should have been given the chance to explain why she stole Marinette's things, but the pawn shop owner was like "you know, I might as well expose Fei myself"...

...and it really broke Marinette, who heavily trusted her. But she can't dwell on it for long...

...because AKUMA COMES FOR THE PAWN SHOP OWNER! AND HIS FAN SHOOTS KNIVES! AND HAS GREEDY MOTIVES! AND HELPED HAWKMOTH GET INTI THE CAVE WITH THE PRODIGIOUS!!!

Also, Nathalie was involved in obtaining the bracelet years ago. Again, the 15 years thing is concerning.

Marinette flees to transform, but not without telling Fei how she broke her trust and how she feels that Feinwas not genuinely helping her. It hurt me so much!

Ladybug transforms, hears Chat's voice-mail (to which she is swooned by the fact her kitty cares for her civilian self), and calls him. The best Ladynoir scene so far!

So the prodigious is like a jewel with powers, there is only one prodigious from what we see, and that one prodigious has multiple renlings that only the wielder can see. Oh, and the bracelet is like a key. Cool.

I don't like how Fei's Lady Dragon outfit looks whitewashed, but at least her hair is red instead of blonde (which still does not make this okay)

Epic Showdown between the akuma, Hawkmoth, Ladybug, and Lady Dragon. Hawkmoth corners Ladybug and Lady Dragon gets caught in some rocks.. All hope seemed lost...

...until Chat shows up and frees the akuma with the help of a basketball.

We learn something new folks: the same butterfly can create a different akuma. This is very frightening because...

The statue that determines who is worthy of the prodigious gets akumatized! The horror!

Also, if the statue says Fei cannot become the dragon because her intention to seek vengeance for her father is not noble and worthy, then what makes Hawkmoth think he will be successful in becoming the dragon??? Because it seems that his intentions are not pure or noble. Just saying.

Hawkmoth notices the akumatized statue heading to the city and all of a sudden remembers about Adrien. Confronting the statue, he gets turned into ashes(?).

CHAT, HAWKMOTH IN ASHES WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR THE BETTER IF THE STATUE DID NOT DESTROY SHANGHAI AND YOU WOULD NOT THINK AS SUCH IF YOU KNEW HE WAS YOUR FATHER! But I am not mad at you, just wanted to point out your irony.

ML WRITERS, WHY DO YOU KEEP KILLING OFF CHAT????? LADYBUG DOES NOT NEED ANY MORE TRAUMA AND THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY!!!! I AM SCREAMING INSIDE!!!!!

Fei is understandably upset and blames herself for what happen. I want to hug her so badly.

Marinette reassures Fei and forgives her, even though Fei felt that she could not be forgiven.

The structure they were standing on collapses and it was Fei as the Dragon who saved her, not Chat. Honestly, I love how it turned out as it strengthens their friendship, but I still prefer a Marichat alternative. WHERE IS THE MARICHAT PEOPLES???

Final showdown!

Poor statue guard was upset about the damage they caused as an akuma, but Miraculous Ladybiug fixes everything.

Fei learned an important lesson: let justice take its course, not enact revenge. But it was quite funny to have the pawn shop owner be flown away to court in a literal sense.

The bracelet has a renling-like creature, who is just so adorable, especially since they missed Fei and was waiting for the day they would be reunited. Aww!

Ladynoir version of the Moon scene from NYC! Except no dancing, just them challenging each other over who will get to Paris first if they traveled in opposite directions. No one shall ever know we were in Shanghai as civilians lol (Reminds me of my best friend when eating grapes during choral rehearsals)

Marinette, Adrien, Fei, and Uncle Wang enjoying a birthday (?) dinner was wholesome.

I love how Uncle Wang calls them boyfriend and girlfriend because of how they act around each other, yet Marinette and Adrien both deny it. Bruh, these children need to open their fricking eyes! I really wanted to jump through my phone screen!

The Shanghai Vigilantes came to return Marinette's kwagatama necklace. They are so precious even though we thought they were enemies in the trailer.

Even though they were at odds at first, love how the Vigilantes blushed when Fei played the accordion and she's just like "whatever". I stan an asexual queen.

Do I even want to know what Marinette accidentally said when she mispronounced "sister" in Chinese? Based on what Fei said, probably not.

Uh...NOW I WANT TO SEE MORE OF ADRIEN TEACHING MARINETTE CHINESE! While I do take some issue of Adrien (a white French boy) teaching Marinette her culture like most of us had issue with in "Kung Food", I also want to see them interact outside of school and hopefully bond. ML writers need to keep their word otherwise Adrienette stans will riot!

Love how the final scene turned out! Its just *chef's kisses*

Also, the hell with the business trip?? It was mentioned once again IN THE ENDCARD! It might not be as interesting, but I want to think that there was more truth to it.

Also, wifi troubles kept interrupting the show at crucial moments, but okay.

Overall, I live for the Shanghai episode! The animation is just as incredible as the NY special (which I also live for) and I love how this episode has a great focus on Fei and the prodigious. I mean, before the intro, she tells her story. And she has her monologues alongside Marinette's. In many ways, it's refreshing. Also, Ladynoir and Adrienette stans will be satiated with the scenes associated with each ship. Also, I love Fei's character development! And the final scene is wholesome!

I won't lie though: there are a few issues regarding whitewashing Fei's transformation and such. It is important to see these things and as a good friend of mine always says: you can enjoy something while also being critical of it. And that is very important no matter how devotive to something you actually are.

Anyways, we are being well fed with all the Miraculous content and I will see you all very soon! Also, get some sleep peoples! I know some of you aren't sleeping!

[behindheremeraldeyes]

damirae week 2021 Wednesday, May 5th - holiday & vacations title: love is in the air summary: When his brother decides to mess with him as a Holiday prank, Damian ends up having to travel in coach like the rest of the mortals. Eventually, though, he learns that turbulence can strike even before the plane takes off.

.

“What do you mean by coach class?”

His brows are furrowed when he asks her that, a puzzled expression taking over his face. Expectant, green eyes are on the flight attendant in front of him, as he waits for her to provide him a little more information on the matter. She’s growing anxious the longer he stares at her, a nervous tic making her left eye tremble whenever she tries to maintain eye-contact. Apparently, she knows who he is— of course she does— therefore; he believes it’s safe to presume she understands why he’s so confused.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Wayne, but that’s what your ticket says.” She explains, her voice laced with nervousness as she shows him the printed paper with his name written on. Damian is not blind— far from that, actually. He can see all the information written on that paper, but no matter how much he tries, he still can’t comprehend the ‘coach’ part. He has been traveling by plane for as long as he can remember, and never once has he deliberately chosen a seat in coach— in fact, never once has he chosen a seat at all, since he has a secretary of his own. A very competent and well-paid one, for the matter.

Such a primal mistake like this has never happened in all the years they’ve been working together. Something must have happened, he knows.

“I believe there must have been some mistake.” He states calmly, his demeanor unaltered. “Could you please check it again? The people at my company would never make such a trivial mistake.”

“Of course, I understand completely. I’ll try checking it on the system to see if I can find anything.”

Her fingers move rapidly across the keyboard, and he studies her face, looking for a hint of what’s actually happening. She’s still nervous, he can tell, and if anything, that’s not a good sign. It means she’s not finding the problem in the system, and if she’s not finding it, it means the said problem doesn’t exist. And if it doesn’t exist— well— something must have happened at Wayne tech.

How odd, he ponders.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Wayne, but there really has been no mistake. Your ticket was ordered last Wednesday night, and it is as I’ve told you, see?” She turns the monitor so he can see, probably so he won’t hold it against her or anything. “You know, it’s quite common for some of our clients to make this kind of mistake. Perhaps you forgot to select the first class? “

“Highly unlikely. My secretary always double-checks everything.”

“Well, both the coach class and the seat were chosen by your secretary last Wednesday night. Are you sure nothing unusual happened when he ordered the ticket for you?”

“I’m positive. It was a normal Wednesday and— wait.” He suddenly stops. His emerald eyes blink once, twice and a third time, a blank expression taking over his handsome face. ”Did you just say he?”

Once he allows her words to sink in, Damian questions the integrity of his ears. Perhaps, after all of those years fighting crime and handling explosives, they might not be working as perfectly as they are supposed to.

He must have heard it wrong because, last time he checked, Mrs. Miller was not a man. She’s a conservative woman who’s around her 60s, and even if that doesn’t mean a thing anymore, she has never once told him anything about switching genders. If anything, she’s always the one lecturing Jason about finding a kind woman such as herself.

Still, a stranger such as the woman standing in front of him could never know such personal things about Mrs. Miller’s life. Things are not adding up. And for he is his father’s son, he wants to know why.

“Oh, yes. I presume the name Richard belongs to a man, no? It’s the name of the account who’s booked you this flight.”

“Richard?!” He questions, and it only takes him a second to put all the pieces of that silly puzzle together.

Grayson, you bastard.

Now it all makes perfect sense. Of course he had to be behind this childish act. Who else would have enough free time to waste before the Holidays just to prank a busy, young man such as himself? His older brother might be respected by many of their super friends, but more than anyone, Damian knows he is but a child filled with hormones. He probably thought it would be funny to make his little brother travel for hours in coach as a commoner, where he would have to sit next to a stranger.

That worthless manwhore.

However, he won’t let his predecessor have the last laugh. Grayson did this solely to piss him off and throw him out of his comfort zone, therefore, the best revenge should be handling the situation without creating a fuss. Damian is going to accept the conditions without putting up a fight, and his brother’s victory will have a bitter taste.

Yes, that’s how a real man gets his personal revenge. He will endure a six-hours flight home in coach class like a pro, and he will show the first Robin not to mess with the newest generation.

A proud smirk, then, takes over his lips. That certainly should teach him a lesson—well, that and the explosives Damian plans to hide in his brother’s bedroom, of course.

“Mister Wayne, I’m terribly sorry about all this. I—“

“No need to be sorry. In fact, I should be the one apologizing for all of these questions now that I know what happened.” He starts, placing his hand on his chest as an apologetical gesture. “You see, Richard is my older brother. He’s not as smart as the rest of the family, so it’s highly likely that he’s made this mistake.”

“Oh, I understand. I guess every family has one of those, right?”

“You have no idea. Now, Karen.” He says, finally paying attention to the name written on her uniform. “I’m incredibly sorry for wasting your time. Without further ado, I will head to my seat.”

“Mister Wayne, you’re very kind, indeed.” She starts, a blush tinging her cheeks. With a staple, she makes small holes on his ticket before handling it back to him. “I hope you have a safe flight to Gotham.”

“Yeah, me too.”

His voice doesn’t sound as irritated as he feels, and that alone is a big victory. Without wasting more of his precious time, Damian walks towards the jet bridge so he can finally board the plane. A couple walks behind him, chuckling as they talk about how much fun it will be to go back home for Christmas.

Going home for the Holidays, huh?

An entire week at the Wayne Manor with his brothers and his father, sharing meals together and trying not to murder each other during their morning exercises. Though Gotham could not get any safer since the whole bat-family will be together, it is also the one time of the year when his murderous instincts are at their peak.

A tired sigh escapes his lips. That’s a problem for another time, he thinks.

Once inside the plane, his eyes search for the signs that will take him to his seat. For the first time in his life, he turns right instead of left— coach instead of first class— and suddenly, a small corridor is in front of him. For a moment, he feels like a cow heading for the slaughterhouse, as many other people are forming a line in front of him.

It’s hard to breathe and even harder to walk with all of those people trying to put their bags inside the upper compartments. He checks his ticket again. D21. According to the numeration pattern, he’s almost there, but he’s still not moving fast enough. All the simultaneous talk is driving him insane, and now he understands why some people choose to dope themselves as soon as they get inside the plane.

He doesn’t have any sleeping pills with him, but maybe if he punches himself with enough strength��

No. He can make it. Things will get better once he sits down and they take off. It can’t possibly get any worse than it already is, right?

Right?

A curse is muffled under his breath, and finally, he reaches his seat. For he knows how to travel light, Damian is quick to place his bag where it belongs and now he can establish himself. It’s a window seat, he notices, which means that soon there will be another person next to him, too close for his own liking. He knows there’s no use in picturing what kind of person it will be, but he can certainly hope it’s a nice one who knows how to respect his personal space.

If he or she doesn’t have vocal chords, Damian definitely won’t complain.

He closes his eyes for a moment, then, allowing himself to settle down and get used to his surroundings. It’s chaotic, he thinks, and he knows chaotic. Children are crying, some people are on the phone and others are just breathing too loud. He knows he’s whining like a brat, but it’s stronger than him. It’s annoying, and he swears if that lady keeps on talking about her 3 cats, he’s going to—

His inner monologue stops, his eyes widening for a moment. At last, he hears the one thing he hates more than Joker’s maniacal laughter. That unbearable sound that makes his head throb and makes his lips turn into a deep frown.

“Is that Damian Wayne?”

Teenage girls. And they know him.

Perhaps it’s the annoying giggle or even the way they keep on getting bolder every time they meet him, but Damian can’t stand them. They’re just too obnoxious— a real pain. He honestly doesn’t know why on earth they tend to approach him whenever they have the chance, especially since he’s sure he has never once paid them any attention. In fact, chances are he has even been rude to them on more than one occasion.

Trying to understand a teenager’s mind is beyond his capacity. Ignoring them, though doesn’t prevent them from returning, is the easiest way out, and when they come— because they will come— that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Excuse me, Damian Wayne.” One of them says, her voice laced with excitement. Two more stand next to her, but he can’t really tell them apart. “It’s you, isn’t it? “

Jesus, can someone please knock him out already?

He crosses his arms at her words, his brows now knitted in annoyance. He’s pretty sure there’s nothing welcoming in his expression, but that won’t stop them from continuing. It’s not like they actually care about his feelings or anything.

“Oh, my god! It really is you!“ She claps her hands, biting her lower lip. “Can I get a selfie? Can I?”

“God, Mary. Can you be any more inconvenient?” The one on her left asks, pushing her friend away so she can take a step closer. “Forgive my friend. She can’t read the atmosphere like I can. If you want, I can send her away and keep you some company during the flight.”

“Ugh, get out of my way, both of you!” The third one pushes through, using her elbows to force her way forward. “Hi, I love you and I really mean it, Damian! I love you so much that, if you want, we can meet at the bathroom cabinet and I’ll show you.”

His eyes widen in horror at such proposal, and he’s almost sure this girl isn’t old enough to be saying such things. From the corner of his eyes, he watches as a bunch of people lift their phones to point at him, all of them waiting to hear his final answer so the dirty press can judge him.

Grayson is going to pay dearly for this.

This girl is insufferable. All of them are.

They’re causing all of that commotion, preventing people from walking down the small corridor and embarrassing him in front of all of those eyes. They can’t possibly think it’s okay to do or say those things so openly like to a man they know nothing about. Though the initial plan might have been for him to at least talk to them, Damian can’t bear any more hatred inside of him than at this very moment, and if looks could kill, those three wouldn’t be breathing anymore.

His hands turn into fists and he closes his heavy eyes so he can stop himself from committing a murder. Justice, not vengeance. His father’s words echo inside his head, and he’s having a really hard time trying not to think only about the second part. He really just wants to go home right now. And thankfully, he’s not the only one.

“Hum, excuse me…”

His ears detect a fresh voice, calmer and more mature. Instinctively, he opens his eyes to look at this new stranger, and he’s impressed by what he sees. She’s beautiful, he notices. Dark hair, violet eyes and ivory skin, all together to form an ethereal beauty like he has never seen before. Damian can’t help but keep looking at her, curious to know what she’s going to say on this matter.

“Hi!” She continues, her thin lips turning upwards in a smile. “I know you’re all busy trying to seduce this man with your oozing pheromones and irrefutable proposals, but in case you haven’t noticed, there are people trying to get to their seats here.”

“So what?” One of them says, a hand on her hips and a lot of attitude in her high-pitched voice. She’s trying to be intimidating, but it’s clearly not working. “Can’t you see who he is, you emo? He is—“

“I couldn’t care less about who he is.” The raven-haired girl cuts in, clearly not in the mood for that drama. “He could be Superman or even the president himself, for all I care. My problem is with you three airheads who are interrupting the flow. There are people trying to walk here and the airplane hallway is not a place to flirt with strangers who won’t even remember your face once we take off.”

“What!? Of course he will remember!” She glares. “We are—“

“Annoying the hell out of him? That you are. I mean, just look at his face! He looks like shit!” She points at him, violet eyes now meeting emerald ones. Her though expression suddenly melts into a softer one, her head tilting a bit to the right. “No offense, though.”

“None taken.” He answers, an amused smirk now taking over his face. She nods at him before returning her burning eyes to those three girls.

“Like the rest of us, this man just wants this damn plane to get him where he needs to be so he can move on with his life and get drunk during the holidays. We don’t want to be here. So, without further ado, could please you get the fuck out of the way before I lose my temper? ”

He doesn’t know what happens next or even how a small girl such as herself could be so intimidating, but at her words, he notices his three fangirls flinching. They’re avoiding eye-contact, and for the first time, one of them seems to grow aware of the crowd staring at them. The one standing in the middle starts to tremble, and though they’re looking at him as if searching for some sort of support, Damian can’t bring himself to offer them anything slightly remote to that.

In fact, if he has to pick sides, he wouldn’t need to think twice before taking the brunette’s.

“I-I… I—“

“You what?” She asks, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. Her pose holds no hesitation as she stands her ground. “Do you need me to spell it out for you? “

With a 'tch’, the three girls finally walk away, returning to their respective seats with their heads hanging low, and he can’t help but feel incredibly satisfied by that. There’s a victorious smirk on her face, and it’s safe for him to assume she’s also feeling pretty good about what she just did.

What an interesting woman, he thinks. All that sass and eloquence are certainly eliciting his curiosity, and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he can’t help but feel slightly turned on by this stranger.

Interesting, indeed.

While Damian is still trapped in his thoughts, a round of applause takes over the airplane, as people congratulate the raven-haired girl. They pat her shoulders, thank her for getting rid of those girls, and she even laughs once the old lady behind her tells her they don’t make girls like her anymore. For a quick moment, she becomes the hero they didn’t know they needed, and for sure, this is going to be a pleasant story to tell during Christmas dinner.

They will portray her as the girl who saved their flight.

Damian, however, will portray her as the one who told his fangirls to fuck off.

He really needs to thank her for that. Fortunately, he will have over six hours to do that.

Before the Wayne heir can bring himself to form the words in his head, the girl is placing her small bag in the compartment above their heads. As she lifts her arms, her shirt lifts, momentarily exposing her belly. Even if it was just for a brief second, she catches him staring, and once their eyes meet, he looks away, his cheeks growing slightly warmer.

He sees as she slowly shakes her head before sitting next to him, and though he was not expecting a girl such as her, he’s currently thanking the superior forces for the partner destiny has chosen to be his seat-mate. She’s beautiful, her voice is not annoying, and the best part is that she doesn’t seem to give a crap about who he is.

Maybe he’s finally going mad because of— well— everything, but right now, Damian trulls believes that he might even fall in love with this girl.

A sly smirk takes over his lips, and he can’t help but stare at her for a little too long. She watches as he does so, and as expected, she doesn’t feel embarrassed or inhibited at all. Instead, she stares back, eyes squinting a bit in sheer mockery. A questioning look spreads across her face, and he decides that he should be the one saying something. Anything, really.

“You’re mean.” He states, as if that’s the biggest truth in the world. She tilts her head, but his words don’t seem to affect her.

“So what?” She asks, not really caring about his answer as she fastens her seatbelt. ”If you didn’t like the way I talked to your fan girls, you can go and apologize to them, be their hero or whatever. Though, if you’re really gonna go meet them at the bathroom cabinet, I suggest we switch seats so we don’t bump knees every time you have to go.”

She’s a spirituous one, he notices. And if he’s not careful, he might be the next victim of her graciously rude words. “Nah, don’t worry about it. As you’ve pointed out before, I don’t even remember their faces anymore. Your knees can rest assured.”

“Thanks, I guess?” She lifts her brows, not bothering to spare him another glance as she adjusts her dark clothes. There’s a book resting over her lap— Christmas Carol, for what he can see— and she uses her small fingers to tug a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah…” He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus. “By the way, I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I am Damian— “

“Save it. I know who you are, Wayne. I might not be the most updated person in this world, but even Eskimos know your family. Don’t worry, though. I promise I’m not a disguised reporter or an annoying fangirl.”

“Not with that attitude, you’re not. Your clear lack of interest in my personal life can only be matched by only one other person I know.”

“Oh, really?” She asks, her eyes now turning to face him. Now that they’re so close to each other, he can see how bright they really are, and for a moment, he thinks she might even have hypnotic powers because he just can’t look away. There’s a curious tone lingering over her words, and he wants to believe she’s actually paying attention to him this time. “And who would that be, if I may ask?”

“My father.” He answers bluntly, and he notices as she she chokes back a giggle. There’s a soft smile decorating her lips now, and the surrounding atmosphere feels a lot lighter.

“Rachel Roth.” She sticks out her hand to him, and without hesitation, he shakes it carefully. Her hand is soft against his calloused one, and he notices the way she brushes her thumb over his skin. It’s a delicate and pure gesture, so fleeting that makes him wanting more as soon as he releases her from his grip.

“Well, Rachel…” Her name rolls out of his tongue as he tests the sound of it. It has a nice ring to it, he notices. “I think I need to thank you for saving me from a huge headache back then. Seriously, I owe you one.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I didn’t really do it for you, so you don’t need to thank me or anything. I just wanted them to get out of my seat, that’s all.”

“Selfish or not, you still got rid of them, so… thanks. “

“Well, if that’s the case, you’re welcome, Damian.” Rachel nods at him, the same smile still decorating her face. She picks up her book, then, flipping through the pages so she can pick up from where she had left. The way she says his name— so simple and unpretentious— makes his lips curl upwards, and all the bad feelings from before disappear.

This girl— Rachel— she’s showing what a life away from the streets and the business meetings must feel like. The conversation flows easily and effortlessly, to the point where it’s hard to believe they’ve met not even 30 minutes ago. It feels natural in a way very few things in his life do, and though he knows it’s not meant to last, at least he will cherish this moment before it turns into a fading memory in the depths of his mind.

Moments of pure joy shall fade into oblivion, that’s one of the most important rules of his life.

Thankfully, the internet is forever.

An unexpected buzz inside his pants breaks his train of thought. At first, he decides to ignore it, but after the third time, he gives up on the idea. Silently, he scoffs in annoyance, fishing his phone from his pocket. He presses the side button, then, the screen lighting up to reveal a couple of notifications. His eyes, though, land on three particular messages from his family’s group chat:

Grayson: I ship it

Drake : what happened, Damian? Are you okay?? Todd : hot and feisty. The best kind of girl, little bro

His brows furrow in confusion at his brothers’ messages. For what he can conclude, they’re talking about a girl he knows and has interacted with, but that’s pretty much it. The only female human in his mind right now is Rachel, and there’s no way for them to be talking about her. He’s not being followed or bugged, for all he knows— and he knows.

Something strange is happening, and he wants to know what. The youngest Wayne, then, texts them a single ‘?’ and almost immediately, Dick sends him a link to an Instagram page. He’s growing more confused with every additional information, but figures it must be just another one of Grayson’s stupid pranks.

He sighs at the thought. Isn’t he a bit too old for that?

An annoyed pout takes over his lips as a clear sign that he just wants to get this stupid thing over with. Once he taps on the link, though, it takes less than a second for his eyes to widen and his bored expression change into a surprised one. The video playing is muted, but he doesn’t need any volume or subtitles to know what the raven-haired girl in it is saying.

Oh… That angle does make her look nice.

He blinks twice as he allows the whole thing to sink in. Apparently, all of that show earlier was recorded by some cameras and posted all over the internet. There are many posts about it, with all possible captions and comments about them, and he has to admit some are quite creative. Apparently, they’re the new internet hits, not that Damian really cares about it. He’s used to all the lies and overreacted dramas, but if he were to be honest, this one is making him quite intrigued.

Not by the gossip itself, no. That would never happen.

This time, he’s intrigued by how the girl next to him will react as soon as she finds out.

From the corner of his eyes, he watches as she’s calmly reading her book, waiting for the plane to take flight. She’s immersed in Charles Dickens’ words, and it’s like the entire world around her can’t interrupt her. It’s just her and the book, and for she hasn’t touched her phone since her arrival, he’s quite sure she doesn’t know what’s happening in the digital world.

At least, not yet.

He’s definitely going to tell her.

“Uh… Rachel? ”

“Yes, Damian?” She answers, her eyes not bothering to leave the pages of the book.

“Just a quick question… How do you feel about being the center of attentions? “

“I hate it. Why?”

“Well, you might have to reconsider this…” His voice falters and he slowly massages the back of his head.

“Oh, and why would I do that?” She looks at him, at last, her brows now arched. Her expression is blank, and he suddenly wants to laugh because she has no idea of what’s coming.

“Here, check this out. ”

He gives her his phone, a smirk decorating his face. Slowly, he watches the video playing once again on the small screen, all life slowly fading from her pretty face. Her eyes widen, her lips part, and she places her fingers on her left temple. Her cheeks are growing redder than a tomato, and once the video ends, she is completely dumbfounded.

“Wha-what the hell!?“ A couple of seconds pass until she says something, her voice a little too loud, and her eyes filled with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “What’s the meaning of this, Damian!?”

“Well, I think people enjoyed your bossy words from many different angels”” He starts, taking his phone back and scrolling through his time line. His voice sounds too excited for her liking, and it’s easy to tell he’s trying to hold back a laughter. “You went viral, Rachel. ”

“No no no no.” She repeats, slowly shaking her head in denial and taking her own phone in hands. With trembling fingers, she opens her Instagram page and a rush of follows and mentions makes her eyes widen even more. “I can’t believe this is happening. ”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.” Damian tries to calm her down, but the joy in his voice takes all of his credit away.

“Not that bad?!” Her eyes are glaring at him now, cheeks puffed in pure anger. “I got remixed, Damian!”

A sly smile takes over his lips, and he’s]really trying not to laugh in front of her. “And it’s a good remix. Besides, for what I can see, most people are on our side.”

“Our side? I was just trying to reach my seat. There’s no our side, Damian.”

“Well, apparently, there is. Look.” He leans towards her, absentmindedly, until he’s close enough to feel her embarrassment exhaling from her. Their knees are brushing, but neither of them seems to be aware of that closeness right now. He shows her his phone one more time, a couple of comments now displayed. “Some people are even shipping us already. #Damirae.”

A defeated whimper escapes her lungs, and finally, she locks her phone-screen. Apparently, Rachel can’t look at all that anymore, and decides to just sink into the seat. Her hands are covering her face, and her voice is muffled when the next words come out. “Ugh, this is a nightmare.”

“Try looking at the bright side. This video can make you famous. I’m sure the media already loves your sarcasm. “

“If you haven’t noticed, Wayne, I’m a goth.” She spreads her hands across her face so she can look at him through the space between her fingers, and he can’t help but find that utterly adorable. “I don’t do bright side. ”

“God, you’re so dramatic.” He also locks his phone, placing it back inside his pockets. His torso turns around so he can face her properly, that same smirk still planted on his lips. “It’s just a video, relax. Most people will soon forget about it.”

“Some people? And what about the others?” Her voice is lower now, shier, as if she’s really seeking some sort of comfort— not that he’s even trying to offer her any.

“Oh, we will remember this forever, don’t worry.” A dry chuckle escapes his lips, and he notices the way her expression melts in response, tension and nervousness now gone.

Damian is having the time of his life, not only because the video was, indeed, funny; but also because he’s getting to see another side of this interesting girl who’s sitting next to him. Even if she really is bothered by the whole thing right now, eventually, he trusts that she will get over it and realize that no one gives a damn about stuff like that.

It’s just a temporary thing. A funny story for the future.

Rachel will survive it. And he—well…

He’s just found himself an excuse to follow her on Instagram.

“You jerk.” She chuckles, finally placing her hands on her lap and adjusting her posture. She takes a deep breath, then, as if she’s trying to recompose herself, but he notices the way she shrinks a little once she realizes the couple next to them are staring. Her body turns towards his, a sign that she feels somehow safe with him.

And for that, he’s extremely glad.

“That’s a new thing.” Damian states, mockery no longer lacing his voice.

“What is?” The girl questions.

“You’re laughing.”

“So what?”

“It’s nothing, really. It’s just… cute.”

Her cheeks grow red once more and she bites her lips. For a fraction of a second, she turns away from him, but soon, her amethyst eyes are once more looking into his emeralds ones. “Shut up, will you? You’ll need more than that if you want your Damirae fantasy to come true.”

“Oh, so are you saying I have a chance, Rachel?” He teases, knowing very well she didn’t mean it like that. Still, he figures he can’t waste this opportunity. “Are you sure you’re not a disguised fangirl? “

“You wish, Wayne.“ She smirks, offering him a side glance as she picks up her book again. “And I never said that.”

“You didn’t say the other way around, either.”

“Good point.” She nods, acknowledging his words instead of trying to deny them. “I guess you have the entire flight to make sure I keep it that way…”

There’s a flirty tone in her voice, and instantly, the Wayne heir is up for the challenge. Their eyes meet again, and for a moment, he thinks she’s checking him out. They smile at each other, exchanging that you-know-what look, and right now, he doesn’t think this flight will be long enough.

He wants to know more about her. He wants to play this push-and-pull game, and more than anything, he wants her phone number. And Damian Wayne win’t stop until he gets what he wants.

At last, the pilot makes his announcements, and for once, they break eye contact when the flight attendant passes by their seats, closing the compartment above their heads. Seat-belts are fastened, tables are up, and the crew is ready. They’re ready to take off.

fin.

-----

a/n: Well, there are not enough words to describe how much trouble I had with these prompts. I gave up on so many ideas and got so mad at everything that I’m impressed I even managed to write something in the end. Still, I’m glad to have written this one. I had a lot of fun with the dialogues and with every smirk I wrote! Hope you’ve enjoyed it, and please, tell me what you think!

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | TWO

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,495

warnings: depression, anxiety, mental illness! angst, fluff if you squint really hard

18+!!! minors stay away

Peter Parker was relentless, insufferable, and extremely annoying. It all started the morning after what you'd decided to call The Encounter, and it had been unending ever since. Nearly a week had passed since that fateful night, and you'd yet to see a day at school where Peter didn't try his hardest to get under your skin.

On Monday he sat next to you in Calculus, and no matter how blatantly you ignored him for the entire class, he continued to whisper facts about himself and stupid little jokes to you. You wished you could say you hadn't listened, but ever since that morning you'd been unable to forget that his favorite color was red, his Aunt packed him a lunch every day that he threw away because she couldn't cook, and his middle name was Benjamin. Why he thought you needed or even wanted to know such things you weren't sure, but even more befuddling was the fact that you couldn't un-learn them.

When Tuesday rolled around he stepped it up a notch, much to your dismay. He sat with you during Calculus and insisted on jogging with you during gym class, feigning that he was out of breath despite your slow pace and the fact that you were certain he could run for miles without getting winded. He told you more jokes then, too. One of which you begrudgingly found yourself exhaling a little harder over whenever it popped into your head; what did one stranger say to the other? Nothing. They didn't know each other.

Wednesday was the worst, because Peter made a scene. You came into calculus late and the teacher scolded you in front of the class, at which point you got flustered and tripped over your untied shoe laces. Your books spilled to the floor and you tumbled to your knees in front of everyone, and the whole class laughed. But Peter? Peter just had to be the hero, and your blood boiled at his actions.

He'd dramatically swept all his books off of his desk, feigning surprise at the loud clatter as if he hadn't done it intentionally. When the teacher scolded him, too, he just apologized and made a show of picking up each of his things one by one. "Why did you do that?" you'd hissed as you sat down, scowling at the brown-eyed boy who just blinked at you innocently.

"Do what?"

He'd ran with you in gym class again, and he'd even followed you to your locker afterwards. In all the years you'd known of Peter, you had never known him to be much of a talker. In fact, he seemed like a rather shy boy who didn't like to branch out much. With you, though, that was far from the case. Silence was a pipe dream with him around.

On Thursday he sat next to you in Calculus, ran with you in gym, walked you to your locker, and went so far as to sit with you at lunch. You'd put your earbuds in and blasted music as loud as you could without hurting yourself too much, but every time you looked up you could see he was still talking. Part of you wondered why he was being so relentless, but you didn't want to ask. If you asked he would think you cared, and you didn't. You didn't care at all, and the sooner he figured that out, the sooner he would leave you alone.

Or, at least you hoped so. As you walked into school on Friday morning, you groaned at the sight of Peter waiting patiently beside your locker. "What do you want, Parker?" you gritted out, glaring at him as you twisted the dial to enter your combination.

He grinned in spite of your glare, "I'm walking you to Calculus today, obviously. How was your night, (Y/N)? Do anything fun?"

"What part of I don't need friends did you not understand?" you demanded, giving him a stale look as you swung the metal door open with a clang. Peter blinked at you, clearly not used to you actually speaking back to him, and further uncomfortable with your hostility. What did he expect? Did he expect for you to suddenly be happy? To not be completely fucked up anymore just because he started talking to you?

He replaced his lazy smile and shrugged, retorting, "You know my secret and I know yours. That makes us friends."

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to shout, yell, stomp your feet, and throw a tantrum fit for a child. Friends were not something you wanted or needed, and you certainly didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. You didn't want to be friends with someone just because they were worried you'd spill their dirty little secret, or because they pitied the girl who wanted to die.

The black hole in your chest was worse than ever that day, and it sucked away all the fight you had in you. So, with a roll of your eyes, you stuffed your earbuds in your ears and tuned him out once more. Just like he had at lunch, Peter continued to ramble even though he knew you weren't listening, and you pretended you didn't see his lips moving at the speed of light.

For once, at the very least, he at least shut up in class. You were thankful for the break from his incessant chatter, the endless monologue you couldn't escape from when you were stuck in a desk while Mr. Tinley droned on and on. Calculus was far from interesting, but you found yourself beyond relieved to finally be able to pay any sort of attention to the lesson.

Friday was steadily continuing along the same path every other day had since The Encounter. Peter thankfully parted ways with you after Calculus, but quickly rejoined you two classes later in Gym. From Gym he was glued to your side through lunch until you escaped to your Spanish class, which you thankfully didn't share with him, but the solitude was short lived. Your last class of the day was one you also shared with Peter, and prior to that day he had remained seated with his friends.

That day, though, he plopped down in the seat beside you with a cheerful smile. "Ready for our new project?" he asked, skipping the greeting he knew you wouldn't return.

"Huh?" you asked, blinking at him in bewilderment. New project? Our? What was he talking about?

Peter beamed back at you, clearly pleased that you hadn't snapped at him for once. "Our new project! Didn't you see the list on the door? We're partners." he explained, and you stiffened.

It was too big of a coincidence to truly be happenstance. All week Peter had been pestering you, perpetually following you around and talking your ear off, and now he just happened to be assigned as your partner for the final Speech project? He did something. That was the only logical conclusion.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him with as much intensity as you could muster. "Peter, what did you do?" you growled.

Peter's eyes widened at your tone, and he shifted in his seat nervously with a sheepish smile. "What do you mean?" he questioned coyly, and you scowled at him fiercely. "I didn't do anything, (Y/N)."

"Bullshit." you snapped, "I find it hard to believe that we just happened to be assigned partners after how obsessively you've been harassing me all week."

He gaped at you, "Harassed? What?" he stammered, "(Y/N), let's calm down--I haven't... I haven't been harassing you. I just want you to know I really do want to be your friend."

You scoffed at his excuse, "Shut up, Peter. Just leave me alone! I don't want to be your friend, okay? My lips are sealed. I won't tell anyone your secret, just leave me alone!"

With one finally glare, you lurched out of your seat and stomped to one far away from the still aghast boy. As you settled into your new seat, ignoring the strange looks from your classmates who witnessed your outburst, you wrinkled your nose and picked at your nails angrily. As much as you were angry with Peter, you were also angry with yourself.

You were angry that he'd stopped you, and you'd let him. You were angry at the world for letting your sister die. You were angry at your sister for saving you when she should have saved herself. Most of all, though, you were angry with yourself for how you were acting. Even though she wasn't there, you could almost hear your sister scolding you for how you'd treated Peter.

She always was the levelheaded, rational sister. The good sister. The better sister. She would have been ashamed of how you'd been ignoring Peter, ranting to you, "He's just trying to be there for you, idiot. Stop being such a jerk and let him help you. You need to stop being so stubborn..."

You listened eagerly to Ms. Lovell's lesson and instruction for the new project. It wasn't because you were genuinely interested, because you weren't, but it was something to distract you. It was something to drown out the voice of your sister that was echoing through your skull, rattling you to your core as you tried to keep your emotions at bay.

This was the hardest part of losing your sister. She'd been so close to you, so important to you, it was impossible to not think of her in every moment of every day. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have done, instead of what you had done. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have thought of your actions, what she'd have said to you, of what she'd have wanted you to do.

She had been your voice of reason, your confidant, your role model. She'd always been so much better than you, someone you aspired to be like, and now that she was gone the comparisons were so much heavier on your head. Why couldn't it have been you instead of her? She would never have had such a hard time like you were.

For instance, she wouldn't have been so bitter. She wouldn't have been so filled with rage, hatred, or despair. She wouldn't have blamed anyone, not even herself, and she wouldn't have hated the people who had killed you. She always did love a good superhero, and even if you'd have died at the hands of the Avengers like she had, she would have found a reason to still have faith in them. She would have forgiven them.

This project was going to be a tough one, and not just because you were going to have to work with Peter Parker. "This is going to be a persuasive speech, guys, so you're able to pick your stance freely so long as it pertains to the Avengers. For example, you could persuade us that they're bad, if that's how you feel." Ms. Lovell explained, "Just be prepared to face debate from the class. Each group has to face five full minutes of argument from the class and be able to firmly debate their stance."

A project in which you'd have to argue your stance pertaining to the superheroes that had killed your sister, and you were working with Peter-Spiderman-Parker. Great, you thought to yourself, this was going to be a nightmare. There was no way the two of you would agree on what stance to persuade; you hated superheroes, and he was one, for God's sake.

You glanced over at Peter, only to catch him already staring at you. The pair of you quickly looked away from each other, but you noticed the way his cheeks flared red in embarrassment. How long had he been watching you? Was he dreading the project now as much as you were?

He probably didn't know how you felt about the Avengers. Not many people really cared enough to read about what had happened to your sister, and you weren't exactly in the right state of mind to be out protesting the many shortcomings of the superheroes. You wondered, though, how he would react when he found out.

Lying was an option, but there was no way you'd be able to debate in favor of the Avengers without breaking. Could you debate against them without losing it either, though? You weren't entirely sure. It was a sore subject and you were certainly not looking forward to having to dedicate your time to speaking about them.

Peter lingered by his seat after class was dismissed, staring at you awkwardly as he told his friends he would catch up with them later. You could see the strange, weary looks they shot you, but you chose to ignore them. Everyone looked at you a little funny ever since the incident, and you'd long ago grown accustomed to it. This time, though, you couldn't help but think they were looking at you strangely for a reason other than your sister.

You had two options. You could suck it up and talk to Peter right then, or you could continue to ignore him until you were forced to do the project. Catching his warm brown eyes as he timidly watched you, you sighed. It was now or never; maybe if you were nicer he'd back off a little with the obsessive tendencies.

"So," you drawled, approaching him shyly, "how are we gonna do this?"

This was what she would have wanted you to do; that's what you chanted in your head as you forced yourself to at least seem somewhat approachable. "Uh, we could--we could meet up tomorrow? You could come to my apartment." he stuttered, scratching his neck awkwardly and fiddling with his backpack.

He radiated nervous energy, and the black hole inside of you consumed it greedily. You twiddled your thumbs just as nervously as you replied, "Do you, um, do you mind coming to my house instead? My parents are--they're a little weird about me going out because of... yeah."

God, his stutter was rubbing off on you, and you cringed at the way you stumbled over your words like a fool. It had been such a long time since you'd invited anyone to your house, let alone talked to anyone besides your parents and your therapist, and it was stressing you out. The exhaustion of the day was wearing you down rapidly, and having to socialize was making it worse.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course!" he spluttered, "Uh, could I get your number? So I can, like, text you when I'm coming?"

You hoped he didn't notice how much your fingers were shaking as you took his phone, struggling to type in your number as you mistyped multiple times. Once you'd saved your contact into his phone, you sent yourself a text so that you'd have his number too. You didn't exactly answer unknown numbers anymore, though if you were honest, you often didn't answer people you knew either. That was what drove your friends away.

Peter shot you a shy smile as you handed his phone back, and he asked, "Do you want to get started tonight, maybe? I could call you."

Biting your cheek, you paled. Tonight? You were exhausted, and the thought of having to talk for any longer made you nauseous. "No offense, Peter, but I... I really just need a break. This week has been a lot." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you stared at your feet.

"Oh, yeah, totally." he acquiesced, "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow."

You didn't reply, only giving him a tight lipped smile that probably looked more like a grimace as you quickly walked away. Once you were out of his sight, your entire body drooped and the numbness steadily washed over you. It had been the longest day, and you were once again grateful for the escape from the overwhelming emotions.

Ever since she died, it was as if all your emotions were on overdrive. There were the many constant ones, like the guilt, shame, and anguish over her death. Along with those were more fleeting ones, like anger, disgust, and fear. Peter, though, he brought about a whole slew of new and equally as intense feelings that drained you.

He made you feel things like anxiety, apprehension, and hope. There was anxiety both due to his wild behavior in regards to you, but also because you feared he might tell people what he'd seen. The apprehension was due to your suspicion he was only so interested because you knew his secret, and was just as fearful that you would tell. But the hope, the stupid anticipation, was the worst.

It was the worst because a stupid part of you hoped he was genuine. You wanted him to really want to be your friend with no ulterior motives because, no matter how much you denied it, you really did need a friend. You wanted a friend. You wanted to let someone in.

You weren't buying it, though, because you were certain you couldn't handle the heartbreak of being wrong about his intentions and discovering he really did only care about his secret. You weren't going to let him hurt you, and if you had to shut yourself off from the world and hurt yourself to prevent it, then so be it. It was easier that way.

Peter Parker: hey i know you said you didn't want to start tonight but that doesn't mean we can't get to know each other

Peter Parker: so if you want, lets play 20 questions! i'll start. what's your favorite movie?

The typing cursor blinked at you tauntingly as you laid on your bed, huddled under the blankets with your thumbs hovering over the keys. That stupid part of you that wanted to make your sister proud begged you to go along with it, to let him be a friend, but you were terrified. You were terrified of the way you actually opened the text and went to reply without hesitation, something you hadn't done since before the incident. You were terrified of the way you wanted to reply, but the only thing that gave you pause was the fact that you didn't have an answer.

Movies weren't something you'd given much thought to in awhile. You knew all of your sister's favorite movies by heart, but your favorite movie? It was as if your brain opened an empty drawer. You didn't know what your favorite movie was.

You: i don't know

Peter Parker: what do you mean you don't know

Peter Parker: do you not like movies?!

You: i just don't know okay

You: i can't remember the last time i watched a movie.

That was a lie. You very well could remember the last time you'd watched a movie, and that was because it was with her. The weekend before she'd died, your sister had dragged you to the theater to watch some cheesy romance film she'd been gushing about for weeks. It was awful, but it was so utterly her that you'd weirdly enjoyed it. You enjoyed it because it made her happy.

Peter Parker: that's crazy wow

Peter Parker: no offense sorry

Peter Parker: it's your turn to ask

You: what's your favorite movie

Peter Parker: star wars but you can't ask the same question!! try again

You: fine

You: what's your favorite food?

Was talking to boys always this hard? You couldn't remember the last time you'd had to get to know someone, but you didn't think it had ever been so nerve wracking. Was something wrong with you? Was everything destined to be this hard now that she was gone?

Peter Parker: anything from Delmar's

Peter Parker: best sandwiches in Queens

Peter Parker: since you got a double and you technically didn't answer my first question, i'm asking you the same but also what's your happiest memory

Everything was always going to be hard. Reading his response, your lungs deflated in your chest and the numbness gave way to the all too familiar sensation of despair. She'd always loved Delmar's, insisting on getting the same sandwich from there every single Friday after school, and it had been your thing.

Would there ever be anything that didn't remind you of her? Remind you of the hole punched in your life where she used to be? It was hard enough dealing with the empty space in your room where her bed used to be, the empty chair at the dinner table where she'd used to sit, all the empty spaces she'd used to fill up. But the little things--the little memories of things she'd used to love--those hurt so much more.

You: i have to go

You: i forgot i'm busy tomorrow so we can't start the project

You: i'm sorry

SERIES TAG-LIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton

[alwaysmychoices]

Retirement Talks

Synopsis: Charlie decides to return to Edenbrook to meet Kyra for lunch, but little did she know that a scandal has rocked the hospital. During lunch, secrets on all sides are revealed - some of which make Charlie question if she should leave medicine altogether. 

Chapter 25 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 5.8k

Rating: Teen 

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

Charlie was back in Edenbrook.

Not by her own desire, of course.

It was her therapist’s idea. She thought visiting Edenbrook would help Charlie so she could see it without the looming threat of a bioterrorist attack or meeting Ethan’s estranged mother. Her therapist hoped that it would ease Charlie’s anxiety and show her that Edenbrook really was just a building at the end of the day.

Not some evil place full of death and destruction. Even if it housed her most painful memories, those were just memories. She couldn’t fault the building itself.

She needed to stop fearing Edenbrook. If she didn’t, she could never return to Edenbrook.

Those were easy things to say – very appealing in its rationality.

But if it was just a building, it was a building haunted. The halls were lined with ghosts of memories long gone, seemingly forgotten by all but Charlie. All the hope and innocence she saw on her first day was replaced with stinging bitterness. She was afraid of what Edenbrook would take from her next.

She didn’t want to be here.

She probably would have left if she hadn’t made lunch plans with Kyra – who, of course, was late.

It had already been fifteen minutes since they’d initially planned to meet, and Charlie saw no sign of Kyra showing up any time soon. Charlie initially waited in the lobby, but after a text from Kyra that said she was stuck in an emergency staff meeting, Charlie moved to Kyra’s office to wait in privacy.

It was easier to wait there. Charlie had very few memories in the administrative wing of the hospital – even fewer negative ones. There were also fewer onlookers in Kyra’s office, and Charlie didn’t want to be stared at. Besides, Kyra kept snacks in her desk, and Charlie was starving.

This wasn’t the first time Charlie had stolen from Kyra’s snack drawer, so when she walked in, she knew exactly where it was.  A few months ago, lunches like these were regular occurrences. Then secrets – primarily Charlie’s relationship with Ethan – started to separate her from her friends, little by little. Most of her spare time was taken from her friends and immediately dedicated to the intoxicating and less than honorable pursuit of falling in love with Ethan Ramsey.

Charlie had been lying for a very long time.

Two months of her relationship – almost three. Even longer if she counted the build-up.

Her friends allowed it. She wasn’t sure why, but as she stole a Twizzler from Kyra’s desk, she had the distinct feeling that she didn’t deserve it.

Just before Charlie could lose herself in the depths of guilt and a dizzying inner monologue, her companion finally appeared.

20 minutes late, not that Charlie or her grumbling stomach were counting.

“Twizzlers, thank God,” Kyra skipped the pleasantries, instead making a beeline for her friend and the snacks in her hands. Kyra took a handful from the snack drawer and waited until she’d chewed through at least one before turning to Charlie.

Kyra looked amazing.

Particularly for being on death’s door only a month earlier.

Charlie wished she had been there for more of the recovery. After finding out Kyra survived the surgery, they had an emotional moment, and they frequented each other’s room in the hospital. But after the memorial service, Charlie and Ethan left town, and Charlie struggled once she returned to Boston.

During that time, Charlie visited Raf and Kyra. Sometimes, seeing them was the only time she left her apartment. But Kyra was the strongest of all of them – to no one’s particular surprise. Kyra returned to work within only a few weeks, and with Raf and Kyra still on leave, they primarily heard from her via text or rambling phone calls where Kyra shared hospital gossip they didn’t understand.

Looking at Kyra and Charlie, you could tell that one of them almost died, but you’d think it was Charlie, not Kyra. Kyra was stylish and trendy with high heels, a freshly shaved head, and a new series of gold ear piercings to celebrate her successful surgery. She oozed effortless coolness and accentuated it with a devilish smile everyone adored.

Charlie, on the other hand, hadn’t bounced back so smoothly. She’d dressed for the snow by picking up a pair of jeans she hadn’t washed in over a week, and coupled with her anxious expression, her style that usually read as classic and laidback seemed boring and stiff.

Or at least that was what Charlie felt like in comparison.

“Everything okay?” Charlie asked, claiming another Twizzler for herself as she settled comfortably on the edge of Kyra’s desk.

“Just the hospital freaking out,” Kyra grumbled, digging through her snack drawer for something else. She didn’t seem satisfied with any of her options, so she settled on a pack of fruit gummies from the bottom of the drawer.

“About what?” Charlie’s interest was piqued, though she tried to keep her tone casual. After staying home for so long, she couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“Another crisis,” Kyra evaded her, “Which isn’t helping the dire financial straits the hospital was already in.”

“Oh… Are you sure you can still get lunch today?”

“Are you kidding!” Kyra’s eyes widened as if horrified by the idea of a cancellation, “After all that, I need lunch. Let’s get out of the hospital and actually go somewhere good.”

Kyra wanted to get Charlie out of the hospital. Something about her eagerness to do made Charlie suspicious but not enough so that she would push it further. She was so eager to leave – despite her therapist’s suggestions – that she quickly accepted the proposal.

“Sounds perfect,” Charlie agreed.

After only a few moments of discussion, they decided to go to a restaurant within walking distance. Despite its close proximity, it was unpopular with Edenbrook workers because it was notorious for slow service, a recipe for disaster for short lunch breaks. Charlie, who had nowhere else to be for the rest of the day, didn’t mind. Kyra, who regularly extended her break beyond its limit, suggested it on purpose so she could avoid their coworkers.

As they walked to the restaurant, Kyra silently lamented she’d brought Charlie to Edenbrook on the worst day possible.

But she smiled and kept it to herself.

When they took their seats, Kyra started her usual game of looking for the craziest thing on the menu and deciding she should get it just so she could live a little. She inspired Charlie to order something a little more adventurous than the basic chicken sandwich she’d been eyeing when they first walked in.

After they ordered, Kyra was smiling.

“What?” Charlie asked, “The chicken won’t be that spicy,” she felt the need to defend her order, assuming her friend was judging her hot chicken and waffles – an impulsive choice on Charlie’s part but familiar enough that she was comfortable with it.

“Not that,” Kyra rolled her eyes dramatically, still grinning though, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Charlie smiled back – genuinely.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Kyra shook her head as if shocked by their recent time apart.

“I know… I haven’t been around much,” Charlie admitted sheepishly, reaching for her water as if she could hide behind the glass.

She didn’t need to feel embarrassed about needing time after the attack to heal. But that wasn’t really what she was embarrassed about. It was the weeks of lying and hiding that preceded it.

“I’ve heard,” Kyra smirked softly into her drink.

“You’ve heard?” Charlie repeated, her heart rate spiking just a bit.

“I mean, even before everything happened, you were getting hard to find. And then, after the attack, you’re entitled to space, but…” Kyra smirked like she knew some grand secret, and Charlie’s stomach flipped. “Honestly, all of your roommates wonder where you are but are too polite to ask because of all you’ve been through.”

Charlie’s face fell.

Shit.

She should’ve known. Of course, they’d eventually put it together that she was often gone and frequently spent nights away, but she didn’t realize they were talking about it.

Charlie swallowed hard, and Kyra took that as her sign to continue.

“At first, they thought you were seeing someone casually and didn’t want to tell anyone after what happened with Raf, but then they thought they would have come around after the attack. For a little while, they thought you were with Raf and had secretly united after he broke up with his girlfriend because you guys were suddenly getting along again,” Kyra explained, watching as Charlie’s blanched with shock, “And he explained your absences a lot of the time, but he denied being your boyfriend, by the way. So, if you are having a secret love affair, you should know that your boyfriend denies it.”

“And do you guys still think I’m with Raf?” Charlie couldn’t believe there had been this much discourse about her absence. How many theories had they gone through?

“No,” Kyra shook her head, “You guys don’t act like a couple when you’re together. Plus, there’s no real reason to keep it a secret.”

Right…

Charlie was amazed Rafael hadn’t told her about all the gossip, but he was probably just trying to protect her from it.

“You guys aren’t, are you?” Kyra asked, just to be sure.

“No, definitely not,” Charlie insisted forcefully enough that Kyra was satisfied she was telling the truth.

“Good,” Kyra grinned in relief, “I already made a bet with Elijah that you two weren’t together, so he owes he me $20 now.”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh.

Still, her curiosity burned.

“So, what are the other theories?”

Kyra raised an eyebrow, surprised Charlie was digging into it more. Clearly, something was there if she was this curious.

“Some are better than others. Aurora thought you might have a secret apartment to be by yourself. Sienna thinks you’re just going around to different supporters like Dr. Banerji when you need them. She usually thinks you’re at his cabin when you’re away. Bryce likes to joke that you’re out at bars on the prowl for a new boy toy,” Kyra winked with a laugh, “And then there’s this really funny one we came up with at Donahue’s, but it’s probably not true.”

“What is it?” Charlie pushed.

Kyra blushed. She was embarrassed to tell her how crazy their conspiracies had become.

“Well… it’s just that Dr. Ramsey’s been really supportive and protective since the attack. And we all saw how devastated he was right after. Plus, he’s the one who took you to Dr. Banerji’s cabin,” Kyra began, but the way she spoke made it clear she thought it was unlikely.

But she was right.

“After everything that happened with you last year, I know that you probably wouldn’t even give him the time of day, especially since you’d started dating other people right before you got sick. But… we thought you and Dr. Ramsey were, you know, together.”

Kyra expected an emphatic rebuttal or an amused laugh. Instead, Charlie stared.

“You weren’t, right?” Kyra laughed, waiting for her expected response.

“Um…” Charlie hesitated.

She wondered if she should keep lying.

But she couldn’t fathom it, not anymore.

“I was, actually,” Charlie said it casually, like it wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation that she had reunited with the man who broke her heart last spring.

Kyra was stunned to silence.

So stunned that she hardly noticed the waitress deliver their meals. Charlie thanked her on behalf of both of them.

Charlie waited for Kyra to do something.

Literally anything.

But she was just staring.

“We were actually together before the attack, though,” Charlie spoke up, trying to fill the silence. She kept her tone nonchalant in hopes it would keep the conversation that way, reducing the impact of her truth, “About a month. Not including the back and forth preceding it, where we slept together a few times.”

Kyra’s eyes widened more and more until they couldn’t possibly get wider.

“I thought you liked David! Didn’t you go out with him to get over Ethan?” Kyra asked, having set up them up just so Charlie could stop crushing on her boss.

“I did like him! But… I only saw him once. And I actually cut that date short because Ethan called me drunk, and I wanted to check on him,” Charlie admitted sheepishly.

“And that’s when you decided to be with Ethan?”

“No,” Charlie averted her eyes, “It was about a week later, I think. We, um… we had sex in Ethan’s office. We didn’t mean to do that, but as you already know, it wasn’t the first time. So, Ethan suggested that we start an actual relationship. I said no initially, but the next day, I said yes.”

“You’re in a relationship?”

“Oh… yeah,” Charlie winced, realizing her friend thought they were just sleeping together.

“How serious?”

“Like we’ve met each other’s parents, and we regularly say, ‘I love you’ serious,” Charlie’s voice got higher as she spoke until she was almost squeaking.

This was crazy. She’d been having a secret relationship – and not the kind where you text someone and show up at their door. She’d been building something meaningful with Ethan. She loved Ethan. She truly wanted to spend the rest of her life with Ethan, and along the way, she’d forgotten that her friends had no idea.

“Holy. Shit,” Kyra’s jaw dropped, and she leaned in close, “Tell me everything.”

She was smiling, and Charlie let out a deep sigh of relief.

So, Charlie told her.

Their promise to have a one-night stand. The way they pulled away and always came back. Her first date with David and the night she spent with Ethan. The morning where they shared breakfast and became friends again. The night in Ethan’s office where he offered a relationship and her teary acceptance the next night. The first time they said I love you. The way he helped put her back together after the attack. Their fight about her returning to Edenbrook. Everything.

Kyra was enthralled.

She asked more questions.

Most of which involved how Ethan was in bed. The others questioned how such an asshole could be a good boyfriend. And most importantly, why they’d kept it a secret.

On that front, Charlie didn’t have a great answer.

It was obvious why they kept it a secret from most of the hospital. The hospital didn’t approve of interdepartmental relationships, particularly if one party was a superior. It could jeopardize her place on the Diagnostics Unit, and rumors of sleeping to the top could damage her career permanently.

But why she didn’t tell her friends?

At first, just to keep the secret from spreading and maybe because she thought they’d think it was a terrible decision. Then… as time went on, it was just harder to share.

Though disappointed with Charlie’s lack of an answer, Kyra loved the conversation.

A few months ago, she’d strongly urged Charlie to stay away from Ethan, convinced he could only hurt her if they got any closer. But now that Ethan had seemingly proved himself, Kyra was eager to hear everything.

The rest of lunch was spent dishing on Charlie’s secret relationship and gossiping about the fabulous men – and the gorgeous woman – Kyra had been casually seeing in the last few weeks. Out of all of them, the only one who came close to acting like a partner was ironically Bryce – the only one she wasn’t sleeping with. Charlie, as always, encouraged Kyra to ask Bryce out and act on their perpetual flirting. Kyra just waved off the suggestion.

It wasn’t until the end of the meal that the conversation naturally drifted back to the financial state of Edenbrook and the resulting long hours Kyra had been working.

Kyra forgot why she didn’t bring it up earlier. She forgot that, as much as she loved Charlie, certain topics were still of limits. Something about the conversation made Kyra feel safe and comfortable – like she was catching up with an old friend, not protecting her from a hospital tragedy.

“I didn’t realize things were that bad,” Charlie confessed, signing her name on the check as they collected their things to leave.

“The whole thing’s on the verge of collapse,” Kyra sighed, “We’re trying everything –even begging our donor list to the point where they hate us. And things are going to get so much worse after today…”

“Today? What happened today?” Charlie asked curiously. Kyra, who had just looped her arm through Charlie’s, stilled as she realized her mistake.

“Just a little crisis. Nothing we can’t handle,” Kyra murmured casually.

“Is that why you had the emergency meeting?” Charlie prodded innocently, unaware of the change in her friend.

“Mmmhmm,” Kyra hummed avoidantly.

“Well… What was it?” Charlie asked again, growing more intrigued by the minute, “There hasn’t been an emergency admin meeting since someone tried to kill me. And before that, the last one was when Mrs. Martinez’s family threatened to sue. It’s got to be something big.”

And it was.

Something monumental and horrible.

“It’s not great,” Kyra warned, “You probably don’t want to hear about it…”

Well, now Charlie had to know.

“Kyra,” she said softly, pausing on the sidewalk once they exited the restaurant, “what is it?”

Kyra chewed on her lower lip, mulling over the decision on whether or not to tell her.

If Kyra was the one to tell her, at least she could control the way the information was spread. Charlie wouldn’t first be exposed to the news through sensationalized gossip or accusatory questions.

Maybe it was better this way.

“An intern made a mistake, or we think it was a mistake,” Kyra began, her hand resting on Charlie’s arms as they moved through the bitterly cold city. Even with their heavy jackets, they huddled together for warmth, and Kyra was comforted by Charlie’s closeness.

“A mistake,” Charlie repeated, the cogs in her brain already churning.

The last time the administrative wing panicked because of an intern mistake, it had been her own.

“What unit?” Charlie asked, hoping it would be something completely unrelated to her line of work. Maybe surgery made the wrong cut or psych misdiagnosed. Even dermatology was capable of mistakes if they tried hard enough.

“Diagnostics,” Kyra’s soft voice was almost lost to the roar of the Boston streets.

Charlie knew.

Without being told, she knew exactly what happened.

And the fact it came so easily to her meant that she had known the risk before now.

She let it happen.

“Esme,” Charlie blurted out her assumption. She prayed that Kyra would correct her.

“How did you know?” Kyra asked, bewildered.

Charlie winced.

“And the patient was Levi Coates.”

“Did someone already tell you?” Kyra’s eyes were so wide they took up most of her face. She was astonished – maybe even a little relieved she wouldn’t have to share the gory details if Charlie already knew.

Charlie couldn’t speak.

Without either noticing, the crosswalk turned green.

Most of the lunch rush had already left the city streets and returned to their office building, so the sidewalks weren’t crowded. Only a few people stood next to Charlie and Kyra, and once the light changed, they left the pair on the sidewalk by themselves.

“No…” Charlie murmured finally, only becoming aware of the crosswalk once it turned red again and stranded them in their original location.

No one needed to tell Charlie.

It all came back to her in horrific detail.

The day she came back to work – her last day before she abandoned Edenbrook and the care of her intern.

Esme acted strangely. She said things she shouldn’t have said to Charlie. She asked dangerous questions. She was too close to Levi – and too willing to take on the risks involved with helping him. And the party…. The party should have been a sign. No one survived a party at Edenbrook, it seemed.

But back then, Charlie couldn’t take it on. She was too fragile and overwhelmed to assume the responsibilities, stress, and mistakes of another. She couldn’t care for herself enough to teach someone else.

She’d left Esme.

She assumed someone would take over, spot it, and do something.

Or her little warning speech would be enough to warn Esme off from career-ruining misery.

But now, Charlie saw it wasn’t enough.

She failed Esme. She failed Edenbrook, and now she failed Levi.

Charlie didn’t want to ask what Esme had done, but she hoped it was benign – something like threatening a parent and having a lawsuit thrown in her face. She couldn’t watch another bright young intern lose a patient and devastate a family.

“What happened?” Charlie asked, not to sate curiosity but to be prepared. She knew that everyone would stare and whisper once she walked into Edenbrook again.

She didn’t look at Kyra as the light finally turned green again. While Kyra collected her thoughts, Charlie tugged her friend across the crosswalk.

Kyra sighed. There was no right way to say it, but even still, it felt wrong to say, “Levi died.”

Charlie’s world felt like it ended again.

“What?”

Charlie stopped in the middle of the street. Locked into her arms, Kyra was stuck there with her.

“She overdosed him. After everything his body went through, he couldn’t take it,” Kyra explained, looking at the crosswalk sign as she was eager to get out of the road.

“So, it was an accident?” Charlie meant to clarify, but it sounded more like a demand.

“Well…” Kyra swallowed, “We’re not sure.”

“You’re not sure?”

“She was close to the patient, and judging by the interviews we’ve conducted thus far… it’s possible that she did this to spare him, most likely with his permission. And that’s the result the admin office wants.”

“Why would they want that? That’s illegal in Massachusetts,” Charlie demanded, seemingly oblivious to the countdown on how much longer they had in this street.

“Charlie, let’s get out of the road,” Kyra implored.

“Just tell me.”

Kyra huffed, eyes scanning the cars waiting for the green light to run them over. Backed into a corner, she confessed, “Because, if she did, the hospital isn’t liable, and we can’t afford the lawsuit right now.”

Oh my God.

Finally, Charlie took a step, and Kyra immediately ushered them to the other side of the street. Only moments later, cars roared through the intersection, much to Kyra’s relief.

But Charlie was disgusted.

She was horrified. She hated that a death had turned into money so quickly. She hated that she hadn’t saved Esme and Levi. She hated that her experience with Mrs. Martinez had been repeated in another generation.

For the next block or so, Kyra and Charlie walked in silence.

Then Edenbrook came into view.

That place.

Full of death and destruction. Pain and misery. Mistakes and heartache.

An anxious building was suddenly clothed in danger.

She hated it. She hated the whole place and all it had done to those she cared about.

Kyra watched her carefully, hoping that she wouldn’t have to leave her friend in a bad state. Finally, she asked, “Should I not have told you?”

“No, you should have,” Charlie murmured, “Better you than someone like Declan Nash telling me it’s a tradition.”

Kyra squeezed Charlie’s arm, wishing she could absorb whatever terrible emotions she felt. She’d been through enough already.

“Do you think it was an accident?” Charlie bit her lip, unsure if she wanted the answer, “If only you got to decide, what would you do?”

“Me?” Kyra considered it, “I don’t know. I’ve only read a few interviews, and I hardly know her. But… looking at his file, I wouldn’t blame Esme if she did. With parents who wouldn’t allow him to give up, he didn’t have many other options, but… I don’t want her to get blamed for this for the sake of a hospital budget.”

Charlie appreciated Kyra’s fair consideration, but personally… Charlie felt sure of what Esme had done. And she couldn’t blame her, not when she saw Levi’s suffering. But it felt like a failure on Charlie’s part nonetheless. She should have been there to find other alternatives before it came to this.

They were close to Edenbrook now.

Soon, they’d say goodbye.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kyra inquired. She wouldn’t leave her friend like this, but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t bring her back to the chaos in the administrative wing, and aside from Rafael, all of their other friends were currently working in Edenbrook, the source of the tragedy.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie affirmed half-heartedly.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” Kyra asked casually. Or it was supposed to sound casual – because, in actuality, it definitely wasn’t. Kyra wanted to know that Charlie wasn’t going to mope about all day or go on a downward spiral after the news.

“Not particularly,” Charlie shrugged, “While I’m here, I think I’ll run up and see Ethan.”

“Your boyfriend?” Kyra teased, and Charlie shot her a glare. Kyra nudged her playfully, “You should tell everyone, you know.”

“I will… eventually.”

“Eventually? So, they’ll find out by getting a wedding invite?”

“I’ll tell them when it’s time,” Charlie insisted, a ghost of a smile creeping across her lips at the joke.

“Just make sure I’m there when you tell Bryce. I want to see his reaction. Promise me, okay?” Kyra demanded once they got to the front door.

“Okay,” Charlie agreed weakly, feeling the color drain from her face as she stepped inside.

“Alright…” Kyra sighed, hesitating to leave. She balanced on either foot as she tried to think of a reason to stay, but ultimately, she just gave Charlie a hug, “Call me later, okay?”

Charlie nodded her agreement.

Kyra wasn’t totally satisfied, but she walked back to the admin office anyway.

Leaving Charlie in Edenbrook.

This building. This horrible building.

Charlie started walking to Ethan’s office on autopilot, but the halls plagued her. Ghosts of patients lost, mistakes made, and heartaches received whispered to her. And then they screamed.

The panic built in her chest – mixing with her sense of regret and responsibility.

Everything here had been a devastating failure.

In her blind rage, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

Ethan felt something similar as he walked to his office.

He’d spent his lunch break with Naveen. Their scheduled lunch had been disrupted by a crisis with Dr. Ortega, and their resulting time together amounted to picking up food from the cafeteria and eating it in Naveen’s office between emergency meetings.

This lunch turned into what Ethan usually called Naveen’s “retirement talks.” Every year or so, Naveen would tire of the politics and stress associated with their profession. He would meet Ethan for drinks or dinner, and he would propose a retirement. Throughout the meal, Naveen would build a fantasy of retirement – one where he read, fished, and hosted dinner parties with frequency. Ethan played the role of reminding Naveen why he loved his job. At the end of all of these talks, Ethan’s side always won because, truthfully, Naveen was never looking to retire. After all, even when Naveen almost died, he couldn’t stay retired for even a week after his recovery.

But today was different.

Today, during the hurried meal, Naveen hadn’t built a fantasy. He reflected on the reality of their job and the pain it can produce. The death of Levi Coates and the accusations against Dr. Esme Ortega were proof enough that this was a difficult burden to bear. Naveen felt responsible. So did Ethan.

It was Ethan’s department, and she worked under Ethan – not that Ethan could say he’d given much effort to her education recently. He’d been so entangled in his own life that he hadn’t been much of an attending. Perhaps he could have taught her something to prevent this.

Then there was the day Charlie came back to work… He’d seen Ortega. She’d been up to something. If Ethan hadn’t been so focused on Charlie, he would have seen it. He could have done something.

Though he felt similarly, he lacked Charlie’s rage and depth of pain.

So, when he opened his office door and saw his beloved girlfriend standing there, he smiled. Because it felt like old times, if just for a minute. When they were so eager for time together that they’d meet here in secret…. His heart ached for the innocence of that time.

Then, he remembered she was still nervous in Edenbrook, and she was pacing the room anxiously. This couldn’t be a romantic visit.

Ethan closed the door behind him quickly and greeted her with confusion, “Charlotte?”

“You know about Esme,” Charlie skipped pleasantries.

In the comfort and safety of this office, the apprehension poured out of her. In front of him, she was going to lose it.

Ethan frowned.

He wished she hadn’t found out yet. It was the last thing she needed.

“So, you know too then?” Ethan clarified, turning the lock on his office door out of precaution.  

Charlie didn’t answer. She just held her breath, sucking in air through her nose and holding it in her chest. She thought it would calm her. It didn’t.

“This is my fault,” she decided.

“You weren’t even here!” Ethan objected.

“But she’s my intern.”

“You were mine,” Ethan stepped towards Charlie, “And I never took responsibility for Mrs. Martinez’s treatment.”

“But you were there to teach me. You did what you could. I wasn’t there for Esme. I wasn’t even here at all!” Charlie retorted.

“What do you think you could have done?” Ethan asked, knowing she was expecting too much of herself.

“I knew something was wrong, Ethan. Esme was acting inappropriately. She asked me questions about ‘doing the right thing’ even when it’s not allowed. I should have told someone or at least told her more about what happened to me. All I did was give her a short speech and then leave,” Charlie huffed, “I failed her.”

Ethan felt strongly that she hadn’t. Or even if she had, she was justified given her traumatic near-death experience only a few weeks ago.

“You didn’t administer the dose. You’re not responsible.”

Charlie paused, her green eyes boring into his. He felt exposed as she seemed to read his rawest emotions with ease. And to prove it, she inquired, “You feel no responsibility then?”

Ethan shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to lie.

Charlie shook her head as if unsurprised, and she began to pace again.

The panic was rising, and tears prickled at her eyes.

“This fucking place,” Charlie scorned, “All I wanted to be was a doctor. I thought I would come here and learn from the best. I thought I’d leave tired and deeply in debt but satisfied with my decision. And at every turn, something horrible happens. Why am I even here? I came here to help people, but who has been helped? Levi? Mrs. Martinez? Bobby?”

“Charlie…” Ethan eyes softened, “You’ve helped a lot of people.”

“Not enough. Not enough for this…” Charlie felt like she was breaking.

She was cracking and splintering. She was giving up.

“Why am I even trying to be a doctor if I’m just getting people killed?”

“Charlotte,” Ethan didn’t expect to react so viscerally, but something about her accusation stung him deeply. He placed either hand on her shoulder and insisted, “You haven’t killed anyone.”

“I can’t do this,” she shook her head so quickly, so fervently that her snow-dampened curls flew, “I can’t come back here. I can’t come back to Edenbrook, where nothing goes right and everyone gets hurt. Ethan… I’m leaving medicine.”

He could have sworn the earth stopped turning.

“Charlotte,” Ethan began, prepared to give a speech on why she was wrong, but she cut him off.

“I’ve already made up my mind. I made it up before I even got here. I can’t take another tragedy in this hospital. I can’t keep going, Ethan. I’m literally building up my tolerance just to stand in this office! How am I supposed to practice again?”

“You haven’t given yourself enough time!” Ethan asserted.

“It’s been over a month. How much more time will it take, Ethan?”

“Naveen is willing to give you as much time as you need.”

“But when is enough time? Ethan, there isn’t enough time! I am broken. I lost the instinct. I can’t do it anymore,” she felt like she was begging him to understand, just as he was begging her to change her mind.

“You are not broken, no matter what. You haven’t even tested the instinct to know if it’s lost,” Ethan knew that pinpointing the holes in her argument would do little to sway her, but it felt like all he had.

“I can’t keep going like this, Ethan,” Charlie said so passionately that Ethan instantly knew she was right. His hand went to hers, and he squeezed it.

“I know…” he murmured.

For a second, she thought she’d won. But the racing panic and horror didn’t leave her mind…

“But you don’t have to quit to change this,” Ethan decided.

Charlie frowned, but having decided on his mission, Ethan ignored her. He went to his desk and collected the chart for the newest patient of the Diagnostics Team – a patient they hadn’t even seen yet.

He handed the file to her and told her, “Read it.”

“I’m not even on duty. I can’t read this,” Charlie dropped the chart back to his desk.

“You can, and you are. And read it quickly because you’re going with us to meet the patient.”

“I’m on leave.”

“I’m your supervisor, and if you’re going to quit, I’m taking you off leave first,” Ethan determined.

It was a risk.

He could either change her mind or make it much, much worse.

“You should grab your jacket. The patient is at a ski resort, and we’re leaving in half an hour,” Ethan announced authoritatively.

She could say no, of course. She was very good at calling him out on his bullshit, particularly when he claimed authority he didn’t have. But he didn’t think she would because she wanted to know just as much as he did.

“So, what? You don’t want to leave me alone when I’m upset, and you think you can entice me back into work with a mystery? Is that what you have planned?” Charlie accused Ethan.

“No,” Ethan stood firmly, “I’m bringing you because I know you’ll solve it, and you need a reminder of all the good you’ve done here.”

Charlie made a show of rolling her eyes. She hated that he dared to fight her on her own career decisions, particularly after everything she’d been through. But she still reached for the chart. Just as he suspected, she didn’t continue the fight. Instead, she gathered her coat and started reading about the patient.

She wanted to know if Ethan was right.

And honestly… part of her hoped he was.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for continuing to support this series! I didn’t mean to take this last hiatus, but with finishing up my semester, graduating, saying goodbye to friends, and moving, I ended up needing more time than I originally imagined.

Please share your thoughts on this chapter - and Kyra finding out!

[fuck-you-i-am-spiderman]

ot4!!

My babies!! 🥰 thank you @daggery <3

Who digs through the toy bin at thrift stories?

Jay. He likes to find random plushies to bring for the others and he still gets a rush for slipping one into his pocket every now and again, but he is getting better at paying for things. He likes to find unloved toys - ones with buttons missing or broken wheels etc. and Carlos reworks them and patches them up so they can give them to the younger Vks, and plushies for the dogs at the shelter Carlos volunteers at.

Jay is also really good at finding random fabrics and ribbons for Evie's designs. He finds little enamel pins and badges for Mal's backpack. Or finds jackets that Evie can rework and craft into new designs with that VK flavour. Mal likes painting denim jackets that Jay finds with their brands on.

Who gives better hugs?

Mal! She doesn't hug often around other people, she's still very much getting used to being okay with physical affection. However she's the perfect height for all of them and she always nestles into their touch. Mal nuzzling in and clinging to them makes the embrace that much softer. In private she likes to cuddle with them, draping herself in their laps or just coming up to cuddle them from behind. They all love to tease Mal about how cuddly she is but they know Mal's upset when she doesn't cuddle with them.

Jay is definitely the one that hugs them the most. He always likes to be touching them in some way - a hand on Carlos's shoulder, an arm draped across Evie's shoulder or his thumb brushing against Mal's knee. Mal is always super dramatic about Jay hugging her in public, but it only makes him do it more (and she secretly loves it).

Evie and Carlos are often resting with their heads on the other's shoulder, or linking arms as they walk together. They're both affectionate in such soft ways and Carlos likes to interlace their fingers, Evie's touch is always so gentle and she's so patient with how and when she touches Carlos.

Who does absolutely nothing on a day off?

Mal for sureeeee. If Mal doesn't have to get up, if she isn't forced into class or some fancy event, then she's not going. She'll gladly stay in the dorm room just flipping through her spellbook, or literally just sleeping for as long as possible.

Evie and Jay are both very active beings, they're always busy whether it's working on designs or working out together. They always have plans, arranging day trips and dragging the other two out of bed. It depends on Carlos's mood, he'll be flopped beside Mal just listening to music and then he'll decide he wants to engage with Jay in a nerf gun war.

Carlos likes playing video games on days off, he teaches Evie how to play them. They all like to play video games, but Evie and Carlos are the most competitive. They play racing games and adventure ones, they work together to go through it without the game cheats that Mal found.

Mal loves sketching during down time, sometimes they'll come back to the dorm room and she's asleep with sketched images of them surrounding her. Sometimes, if they can coax Mal into moving they do baking and it's usually always involving food fights and Carlos eating all of the chocolate chips before they've even put them in the bowl.

Jay and Evie go to the gym on their days off. Evie ropes Jay into attending a dance class with her. Or they'll be doing weights together and everyone else is watching in awe as they're perfectly in sync with one another. Jay spots for Evie and Evie encourages Jay to race her on the pedal machines. Though it does involve them making out a lot and the one time they snuck into the private gym showers (the ones for the most royal of visitors) and got up to some...mischief 😏

Who excessively quotes shows or movies?

1,000,000% Carlos. He quotes them at any opportunity. But more than the quotes he'll literally talk out his reactions, he'll snark about special effects and he'll rip horror movies apart. He's always provide colourful commentary and nitpick everything they choose to watch. He's very bad at achoosing a movie because he'll instantly start listing why it's a terrible choice. He gets cushions and popcorn thrown at his head constantly. Jay makes out with Carlos to get him to shut up. Mal is usually the one throwing random items at their heads.

Jay quotes back dramatic monologues, like he'll wait until they're out in the quad or in the canteen for lunch and then he'll drape himself over Mal or kneel before her to quote something overly soppy. Mal is the one that gives him the most dramatic response by threatening to stab him with her fork or she'll throw her drink over him. Evie is just as dramatic as Jay though, she'll quote lines back to him and the two of them are just trying to compete to see who's more dramatic than the other. And which one of them can make Mal blush the most by using cheesy romantic lines from movies.

Who piles on the blankets?

Evie, she's always cold and she knows Mal is too...even though she won't admit it. Mal will wrinkle her nose and stubbornly insist she's fine and refuse to grab a blanket. The boys have taken to throwing their hoodies and sweaters at Mal without a word. When it's just the four of them Mal is usually in one of Jay's hoodies or Carlos's sweaters, all toasty and warm. But Evie is always grabbing blankets to drape over whoever she's sat next to and snuggling under blankets as she cuddles against Jay's side. Jay is always so warm so often when Evie is tired and Mal and Carlos have kidnapped all of the blankets for their blanket fortress she'll cuddle with Jay who drapes his arms around Evie and gets her all warmed up. He's like her own heater.

Carlos burritos in blankets. He scared the shit out of Mal when he was in his room listening to music, the light is off and he was wrapped in blankets, only his eyes showing. Mal crept into the room to sneak a chocolate from Carlos's hidden stash, and he pinches her side. Carlos still teases her about how scared she was.

Who drowns everything in chocolate?

The boys. Carlos is definitely the instigator though. Since Jay is more into fitness he dials it back, him and Evie team up to try and get Carlos and Mal to eat their veggies. Mal can sometimes be swayed with a strawberry smoothie, but Carlos will flick broccoli at Jay's head and pour chocolate sauce over the fruit Evie insists they have for dessert.

Carlos is a firm believer that chocolate makes everything better and Mal finds it incredibly amusing, her and Jay will dare Carlos to put chocolate with random things like chips and dipping his pizza in chocolate sauce. Evie has taken to hiding the chocolate on the highest shelves so Carlos can’t get to it easily and having Jay wrestle Carlos everytime he tries to sneak more from the stash. Evie enchants veggies to look like chocolate and vice versa to try and encourage Carlos to eat healthier.

[youuuimeanmee]

Eren Meta From 139

Many people believe chapter 139 butchered Eren's character because of this scene.

Because out of nowhere, Eren's motivation is to reach Mikasa's choice to satisfy Ymir's wish; thus, everything he said from the beginning about his motivation is all lies or meaningless.

No. And I'm no writing this to justify or condemn him. This post is more for myself, because I'm trying to understand his character.

Now let's see at his words. "All of it, was to arrive at that result. That's why I moved forward." What does he mean by it? Which actions?

This.

All the events, starting from ch 123-139, are going according to Ymir's wish.

Right after Eren told her to decide for herself.

She wants to end the world, at least 80% of it. She wants to push Eren's friends to stop him, even if they have to betray their nation. The Battle of Heaven and Earth, all of the clusterfucks in chapter 135-138 happens because it's Ymir's will to push Mikasa to make a choice. She chooses to end the titan curse after she gets to see what she wants.

Ymir did all of this, she watched all the events that unfold because Eren released her.

Then, what about Eren's will?

This is why I'm okay with the idea of Eren following Ymir; Eren doesn't have a reason to reject Ymir's wish because he got what he wants. He got the future he saw on the medal ceremony, the eradication of titans. He got the "freedom" to flatten the earth, and if his gamble paid off, he'd get his friends' safety; because they will become the world's savior after they stop him. It's a win-win situation, thus, putting him in a position where he becomes Ymir's ally and stands by her side.

The reason why Ymir chose Mikasa is not clear, but Eren had a hunch and it's something he could relate to; another reason for him to not object to Ymir's wish. It has something to do with that day when Mikasa practically confessed her love for him, the day where he could use the Founder's power for the first time. I leave this scene up to your interpretation.

What about Eren's will from before 123? What did he try so hard to achieve?

This scenery. Aside from the eradication of titans.

Here's the thing. Doesn't matter if fate favors you or not, you have to work hard to get what you want. To work hard, you need to know the reason. I take Isayama's artistic choice that the future memories he saw are fragments without context; he doesn't know why it happens the way it would. So, even if he saw the scenery, even if he saw the eradication of titans, why he has to go to hell first? Why he has to go through all of the suffering? Why he has to keep moving forward? He doesn't have to; but the world, destiny or whatever keeps feeding him reasons to move forward, until he reached a conclusion that the titan world is fucked up system and has been going for far too long. For Eren, this needs to end, and he wants to reach that scenery no matter what.

This is the man who saw how unforgiving the outside world is. The fact that a little girl got eaten by dogs just because she's an Eldia is proof that a subject of Ymir can never gain freedom, can never gain the privilege of human rights the way a normal human does. (I suggest you to read Gross' monologue from ch 87). The man saw how the world keeps pushing Paradis to be the source of evil without listening to what the other parties have to say. The man is manipulated to euthanize his own people as if Eldia doesn't deserve to be born. He saw the fucked up history of titans from 2000 years ago. He was so disappointed the world is not like in Armin's book, it's not like his ideal world. So he wants to wipe it away. He wants to bury the history and the civilization that created it, deep to the ground. He wants to destroy every last one of those animals, that's on this earth; titans or humans alike. He wants to leave the surface a blank plain. This is his ideal world, his freedom.

Eren said it himself. Even if he didn't know that his friends would stop him; even if it's not Ymir's will, he'd still trample the earth. To me, the reason why Eren commit genocide, the reason he said to Armin is no different than the reason he said to Zeke.

It's just the way he is ever since he was born.

A freedom seeker.

The wording is different with the receiver. With Zeke, it's different, because he's trying to make a point that this is who he is. But with Armin? He is going to die, with his best friend as his judge. He knew exactly why he wanted it: because he is free, ever since he was born. But somehow he couldn't say it outright with confidence. Maybe he's afraid to be judged as a monster by the person closest to him, or maybe he started to question his definition of freedom. Because to me, his eyes look like wonders.

Now. What is freedom? Many people believe that any acts out of violence is not freedom. But to Eren, that is freedom, his freedom. There's a meta that perfectly explains Eren's version of freedom, up until he did the rumbling. This is my highlight from that meta:

So freedom is the power of the individual to do as one wants. When you do something, you are imposing your internal desires onto the external world. If freedom is thus the power to impose your individual Will onto the outside world, then whoever has more power has more freedom.

This concept was highlighted when he told his friends in Paths that he's free to destroy the world and they're free to defend it; meaning that they're bound to clash, and they have to fight.

Freedom is not good. Nor is it bad. It is a force beyond good and evil, and that is precisely why it is terrifying. This, I believe, is why so many baulk at the idea that such a ruthless manipulator could be the avatar of freedom in this story. What I have always loved about SNK is how it delves ever deeper into its themes as the story goes on and discovers such fundamental paradoxes that your understanding of the idea is changed forever. If this is the horrifying face of freedom, perhaps we should not be free.

I don't know how much Isayama's involvement in this, but Grisha's commentary from the Lost Girls captures this concept perfectly.

For Eren, that "great power" is his own concept of freedom: A world without oppression. Doing what you want to do. He's free to protect his homeland by whatever necessary, whatever cost, and leave the rest of the world as an open plain.

Usually, the more we're obsessed with something, the more we stray from our humanity. After witnessing firsthand the vision-he-so-called-freedom, he doesn't know how to feel. He gets what he wants, but he's not happy at all, only the hollow scenery remains.

Eren realized how messed up he is, even before he did this. He tried to reach out to Mikasa that night after he saved Ramzi, to save his humanity left. It's one of the reasons why he asked her, "what is he to her?" Surely if he was loved –even after he killed those men when he saved her that day– would mean he's still human, right? And by running away with her, he could live in peace, maybe he could free himself from his obsession. But he's doing it so half-heartedly, that when everyone interrupted them, he just... let it go. He didn't bother to sneak with her or anything. He couldn't let go of the future he saw, he's losing himself to his desire/inner demon, to his obsession of freedom. Or maybe he's winning over his pathetic self so he could focus on what he needs to do? One could interpret this scene as Eren trying to break free from his obsession for "freedom." One could interpret this scene as Eren trying to break free from the shackles of his conscience. It's up to you.

Eren's outburst over Mikasa in this chapter is his pent-up feeling over her. It is, but after I write this meta, maybe it's more than that. It's because she's the proof of his humanity left. Many, many times, Mikasa is there to stop him from ruining himself. Mikasa's love creates a subconscious understanding that she will always be there for him. That's a part of her that he loves, and by feeling love, it means his humanity still exists. If Mikasa chooses to move on with another man, it means she will forget all the times they had together, she will forget the most human side of him. The only person who loves him as who he is, his home, would be lost. He would be lost. That idea scares him, even though he knows he doesn't deserve her love after everything he has done.

One more thing; another reason why Eren doesn't mind to be stopped, aside from Ymir's wish will get him what he wants –as I already explained. People argue that the conflict won't end until Paradis or the rest of the world remains; thus, Eren's half-hearted genocide is meaningless. No. No matter how angry he is that he wants to eradicate everything, he has enough maturity to understand, even back from the Battle of Trost, that humanity is far from united even if they're faced against a threat beyond human understanding. During the after-party night before the Battle of Shiganshina, he accepts that great power comes from joining ourselves together. We all need to find our own roles. Humans are created differently, because of times like this. By sparing the rest of the world, it keeps both Paradis and the world from collapsing. By keeping the diversity of people, someday it will open a path for peace because it's a part of human nature to try to understand each other; he learned it from the SC. Eren believes Armin could take him there, after he died. Maybe he forgot all of that because he's too caught up in his hate and anger up until 122, the same way he forgot back in the days.

Even if it's not explicitly explained in this chapter, I'd like to think that Eren got plenty of time to reflect on this matter when he did the Rumbling, to fill the emptiness he felt after he reached what he wants wanted.

Eren wins in the end, but at what cost? This chapter is calling out his tyrannical mindset, and it's great to see him realized his error, even if it's too late for him to go back.

Maybe this is what Isayama decided to focus on the last chapter, even if it's rushed. Maybe he (or his editor, idk) wanted the ending to focus on the protagonist's story about humans vs titans. The way Eren is so determined to wipe it out from this world, no matter how messed up his method, no matter how much he suffers, it doesn't matter if it's predestined or not. Because "freedom" is what he seeks ever since he was born. Because Eldia, every person deserves to be born in this world. Yes, every person, including everyone he killed. He knew the gravity of his action and choose to accept his death. Maybe it's the reason why Isayama doesn't delve into the aftermath of genocide further.

He wants the ending to be about Eren Yeager, The Attack Titan's journey about Attack. On. Titan.

[swiftwidget]

MHA: Fling Theory

While writing a much, much longer analysis and prediction post (which we will finish and post hopefully by Wednesday - fingers crossed, it’s already been delayed over a week because of work schedules and additions) and a portion discussing what @aoimikans​ and I know of the wider-known Dad for One Theory, I had to pause while discussing the topic of Nana Shimura’s husband.  

At the time, I had been writing about the alternative ways All for One found Nana Shimura and her husband (whether he was a hero, a civilian, or perhaps the 6th User of OfA) and killed her husband. I mentioned there is an alternative theory floating around that All for One was actually her husband, but it is generally easy to debunk based on canon information, including recent information given to use via Gran Torino’s flashback: 

In a recent chapter, when we see Gran Torino watch Nana as she gives up Kotaro, Nana says later in the flashback “if he learns of Kotaro” as if All for One was not aware of the boy, to begin with. That may imply that her husband was killed while she was pregnant and she escaped AfO’s attention long enough to raise Kotaro for a few years. 

One would think that if AfO was her husband, he’d know about Kotaro early on, or at the very least know of the attempts to have a child. And if AfO already knew of their connection, he would try to use it against her and put both her and her child in danger. Not only that but when All for One finds Shimura’s family later on - and he would have to have found them to show interest in Tenko - he simply allows Kotaro and Hana to die. Kotaro, Nana’s son, and Hana, Kotaro’s daughter who resembles Nana in both name and appearance. If he had been her husband and found she’d managed to hide away a child, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t move to possess that entire family somehow. 

Then… It occurred to me that there is another alternative option which I’m calling the Fling Theory. 

All for One approached Nana Shimura under a different name and quirk (much like the theorized Dad for One = Hisashi Midoriya situation) and attempted to get close enough to her to create a relationship, trick her into giving him One for All (and maybe even a child at that point). All for One was unsuccessful stealing the quirk by force up until then. Perhaps he thought a different approach would work, and being a charismatic person and egotistical it sounds like something he’d do. 

Maybe it got as far as a night of passion before Nana realized who All for One was and fled. That would certainly give one plausible explanation for why everything seems so personal when All for One discusses Nana Shimura. Moreover, if she discovered she was pregnant after? A marriage to a hero or civilian husband to cover for the existence of a child would be necessary to hide him. Again, in Gran Torino’s recent flashback, there is that focus on what Nana says: “if he learns of Kotaro...” 

If Nana fled this false relationship, found out she was pregnant but decided to keep the child, and got married to another man in a very short amount of time, wouldn’t that give the prideful All for One reason to kill the otherwise unnamed, unidentified husband first? Revenge against the woman who did what his brother never could except through death, escape him and build another life. When Nana makes the heartbreaking decision to alter her family registry and send Kotaro into foster care, she is not just protecting herself and Kotaro at that moment, but she is ensuring she takes the secret of Kotaro’s father to the grave.

Which makes it all the more terribly ironic given what we believe All for One did upon discovering Kotaro and the life he’d built for himself. 

We believe All for One discovered Kotaro and his family and watched them for some time. Enough time to know their names, their home life, the kind of life Kotaro’s children were living - specifically Tenko Shimura. In 2016, aoimikans wrote a fanfic called “What Lies Have You Told?” based on her theory that All for One gave Tenko the Quirk: Decay. Then in chapter 235, we see a man dropping Tenko off wearing AfO’s signature suit with no tie (just before Decay manifests). This seemed like pretty strong evidence for that to be the case. A while back during our MHA discussions, we also added to that theory that in exchange, All for One took Tenko’s (“Ten” 天 = sky, “ko” 子 = child) unmanifested Quirk: Air Walk which we saw him use at Kamino and was the only Quirk written specifically in katakana. (Sky child, Air Walk → Sky Walk → Skywalker because Horikoshi loves his Star Wars references.) 

All for One never learned of Kotaro’s true origin. In giving Tenko Decay, he put into motion the events that led not only to Kotaro’s death but also the death of Tenko’s sister, Hana.

Each time All for One tries to own/possess family, he ends up destroying it. 

And again, every time All for One speaks to and of Nana, it’s terribly personal. 

In the All Might Rising OVA, AfO thanks Nana for the “amusing comedy.” Is that a bitter reminder that what they had was an act? That it was all a game to him? (At least, it was meant to be a game until she escaped him for a time.) Either way, his monologuing at Nana, the personal focus on her, may have cost him the chance to capture All Might while he was young and unprepared to fight him. 

During their first fight and at Kamino, each time All for One talks about Nana to All Might, he mocks her to anger him. All Might is Nana’s successor but more than that he is like her son. He is representative of everything All for One could not get from Nana, both One for All the quirk and the love and loyalty of family (be it a child or his brother’s remnant in OfA). Of course, he takes every opportunity to rub Nana’s death and what he views as her shortcomings in All Might’s face. 

And how would All for One know of Nana’s ideals in order to mock them? How would he know of her signature push-up smile that he parrots at Kamino? The way he talks about her even as he mocks her seems to imply that he knows these ideals of hers, how she might talk about them, her vision of the future… Sure, she might have said things during their fight, but honestly, that sounds more like something you’d tell someone as you were getting closer to them.  

This theory naturally pairs well with the Dad for One Theory for a few reasons:

The resemblance pointed out between Nana Shimura and Inko Midoriya. (All for One has a type.) 

The resemblance and similarities between young Tenko and young Izuku. (A family resemblance?) 

The continued themes of family, lineage, and legacy that is shown throughout MHA but works specifically well when we think about how Shigaraki and Deku relate to either side of the All for One / One for All coin. 

The continued use of name puns and Star Wars references that hint and foreshadow. 

Side note: How does the 6th User of One for All fit in this theory? 

We assume based on what canon tells us that All for One has been trying to take back his brother’s quirk, the last remnant of his brother and only family. 

(All for One claimed to love his brother - though his view of love is clearly skewed toward simply possessing his brother - and he tried endlessly to manipulate his brother into showing his “love” in return with loyalty to him and his view of the world. In death and through the passing down of One for All, his brother had escaped him.)

Based on flashbacks, All for One’s attempts up until the 6th User seemed to include killing them off while they were relatively young. Maybe he was attempting to hunt them down, weaken them, and then torture them until they willingly gave him the quirk; however, he was never successful because each User of One for All was successful in passing it down to the next, playing a dangerous game of keep-away.

From the 4th (top right, long hair) to the 5th (see his jacket shoulder), from the 5th (center, bald) to the 6th (far right hand?), from the 6th (bottom center, black hair) to the 7th (Nana’s gloved hand at the very bottom of the frame?). 

Aoimikans and I were trying to figure out: Who was the 6th to Nana? 

He looks younger than most of the other users we can see (not counting the younger, blurry version of Toshinori), too young to have been teaching or training Nana. And in the frame discussing how the quirk was passed down, we see that his right arm is missing, he is offering his hair to pass on One for All, and also… 

… he’s smiling. 

There is something else Nana said that makes us wonder if maybe the 6th User was Nana’s first love:  

To be able to meet again at the end within One for All, she thinks it’s romantic. It may just be her personality, but the idea of reuniting with specifically the previous users is romantic to her. 

Could it be then that the 6th was her first, young love? Could it be that they were both heroes and when he was hunted down by All for One, the 6th hastily gave her the quirk with a smile on his face - a smile she pressed onto her face, and a smile she passed down to Toshinori?

Could All for One have found out that she had that kind of relationship with the 6th and attempted to replicate the feelings that led the 6th to pass OfA to Nana? 

Not only that, but there is that focus on the romantic with regards to specifically previous Users of One for All. Why don’t we see that kind of desire to reunite with the husband that was killed? 

Well, if she were trying to find a husband quickly (not necessarily for love), one who wouldn’t mind that she was already pregnant or who would want to just as quickly have a child with her under the belief she wasn’t pregnant - how best would she go about finding such a man? Quirk marriage. It was likely more common in her time. She’s a hero, young, and with a flying-type quirk. She’d be a catch for any man wanting a marriage focused on mixing quirks. And wouldn’t that be just the kicker for All for One? In his view, she fled him only to run into the arms of a man who wanted her for her quirk? His ego can only take so much of a beating. 

Possible timeline: 

The 6th and Nana have a romantic connection

AfO hunts down and fatally injures the 6th

The 6th gives One for All to Nana with a smile 

Nana escapes for a time

AfO discovers Nana and knows of her previous connection to the 6th

AfO uses his knowledge of their connection to try and manipulate her into a relationship based on falsehoods to trick her into giving him One for All 

Nana discovers AfO’s identity and flees

Nana discovers she is pregnant with Kotaro

Nana quickly marries a man, possibly through Quirk Marriage, to explain away the pregnancy

AfO finds Nana again after years and rashly kills her husband before finding out more about her life

Nana is forced to quickly give up Kotaro to foster care and alter her family records to hide him from All for One, keeping All for One from using the knowledge of their connection against her (again) 

Nana goes into hiding again, eventually finds and trains Toshinori and passes down One for All 

All for One finds Nana again but she doesn’t run away. All for One mocks her (allowing her successor and friend to escape) and kills her in the fight but keeps her hand. 

AfO later finds Kotaro and his family, gives Tenko Decay, unwittingly allows Tenko to destroy what family he had made, AfO takes in Tenko and gives him the name Tomura Shigaraki claiming that Shigaraki is his own surname - ironic to be giving his own grandson his surname thinking he’s simply taking from Nana Shimura the last remnant of her own family. Revenge for her giving away the last remnant of his brother to All Might.  

Meantime, AfO took on the name Hisashi, met Inko (who looks like Nana but would be in his view meeker), and had Izuku. 

Fun fact: Shigaraki is 20 in canon. Izuku is around 15. AfO would’ve likely taken in Tenko Shimura around the time Izuku was born. So, at that point in time, he thinks he’s won that battle. Started a family of his own with a Nana look-a-like, and stolen away Nana’s family. All he needs to do now is take back OfA and kill All Might. Then he’ll have everything he’s wanted.

Then, All Might smashes All for One’s Empire and head in, and he takes away All for One’s ability to be a part of the family he’d tried to create. Adding insult to injury, All Might takes Izuku under his wing 5 years later and gives him One for All. Stealing everything from All for One. (All but Shigaraki - the child pawn All for One raised to hurt All Might, not knowing his own grandson.)

And there you have it: Fling Theory!  

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol. 12: Mukami Ruki [Another Story]

Original title: アナザーストーリー

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [Deluxe Edition]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Translator’s note: I feel very much conflicted about this CD still. While I do kind of like how they took a different approach with the Another Story track and the way it ends, I still think Ruki went way too far in the main CD. It was interesting to see everything from his perspective too, although this means there’s a bunch of inner monologues in this and it’s Ruki so they’re quite long. I try to break up the paragraphs by describing what happens based on background sounds and such but this one just has a bunch of rambling lol. 

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

“Lately, she has been formidable. Even though she was always the type of girl to make the most foolish mistakes, to the point where one would wonder if she did it on purpose. She has not been getting scolded by me either. That does not bother me. Or at least, it shouldn’t bother me. So why do I feel so...restless?”

*Ding・dongー Ding・dong*

Ruki walks up to you in the inner courtyard.

( So that’s where she’s been...Look at her just casually watering the plants... No wonder she did not show up in the library. I assume she has completely forgotten about our meeting. )

“So this is where you’ve been.”

You flinch.

( Huh? What’s wrong? Why would she be so surprised just because I called out for her? Also...Under normal circumstances, I’d assume she would panic and spray water all over me with that hose she just so conveniently happens to be holding. Yet, she made the wise decision and turned off the water. )

“Oh well. I shall praise you for ceasing your actions as soon as you saw your Master approach. However, there should be something you have forgotten.”

You bring up the promise.

“Oh? So you do remember. Then you should have just hurried to the library.”

( Now this is new. I didn’t think a scatterbrain such as herself would have remembered our plan to meet up. No, if she remembered, she should have come to me straight away. Did she only just now remember? Even so, her behavior is off. Or am I simply overthinking things? )

*TIMESKIP*

( Once it starts boiling, the dressing will be complete. Which leaves just plating the salad. )

You enter the kitchen.

“...Hm? You’re already here? You almost resemble a dog or a cat rather than livestock, lured in by the scent like that. Let me tell you just in case, it is not feeding time just yet. Wait until I’m done preparing it.“

You nod and leave.

( Oh? She left without offering to help? I’m glad to see her so obedient, but then what did she come for in the first place? Usually she would insist on helping even if it’s more of a bother and either cut her finger or break one of the plates. Those are the kind of things she does. )

He turns off the stove.

“What is this feeling as if something is...off? Something about the way she’s been acting trips me up. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her make a blunder even once as of late. That isn’t something which should bother me, but I just can’t seem to get rid of this unsettling feeling in my chest. What has gotten into her...?”

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki enters the room

“We finally made it back. That was quite the disaster. ...Honestly, why do I have to wear the clothes she picked out for me? Well, I suppose she did not make a bad choice for once. I’ll add it to my collection of casual wear. That being said...Nothing happened today either.”

He takes a seat on the bed.

“How many days has it been since she stopped making mistakes? She won’t even show dangerous behavior. What kind of miracle is this? No, I do not mind that. I shouldn’t mind it. It basically means a huge pressure has been lifted off my shoulders. Then why do I feel so conflicted? Her suspicious behavior piques my interest, but even beyond that...”

( I felt as if something was lacking. Oh, I get it now. It all makes sense now. I have not gotten to taste her blood as of late, so I must feel unsatisfied. I am not the type of guy who easily becomes thirsty for blood, nor would I indulge in her without a good reason. However, with less opportunities to punish her, our time together automatically decreased as well. To be upset because of that, I must seem like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum because his mother does not pay enough attention to him. It is obvious since when I have become so obsessed with her

...Since the moment I decided to betray the whole word and chose her, I must have already been enraptured by her. Harshly sucking her blood while restraining her movements was something which fulfilled my desire for dominance. It most definitely made me feel good. However, somewhere deep inside, I felt relieved when she accepted me without fighting back against it. At some point, I even began to cherish those moments where I would pierce my fangs through her skin. I must be quite the easy man as well. I always thought I was in charge, but I may have actually been the one wrapped around her little finger instead. (1) I cannot show myself to that man like this. No, I assume he is already well aware. )

Ruki suddeny raises his head.

“Hm...? That man? Speaking of which, that hourglass I gave her...I considered the possibility but could it be...? Even if she were to make some sort of mistake, if she rewinds time, she could do the same scenario over again. If she makes it so only she remembers, it would be easy to keep it hidden from me. I wanted to believe I was simply overthinking things, but now that I think about it with a clear mind, it really is suspicious...I’m sure that even someone as slow as herself would eventually get things right after two of three tries. If she has been using that hourglass to cover up her own mess-ups, then I have no other choice but to punish her for such a foolish act.”

( It became clear to me that I would have to set up a trap to find out the truth. ーー And if her actions were to be exposed, I would make sure to compensate for the lack of disciplining these past few days. I can already imagine her crying out. I probably should not feel proud for having such thoughts. However, this is not a bad situation. It may be somewhat shameless, but it seems like I am enjoying it quite a bit. To get to use her own blunders as an excuse to suck her blood, or knowing that no matter what I do, she will not get away from me. )

“I suppose I shall enjoy our time together for the first time in a while...Which may just turn out to be a hellish period for her.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Ding・dongー Ding・dong*

Ruki pulls back after sucking your blood.

“...Hah. Your blood tastes even sweeter than usual. By sucking it repeatedly, the flavor ripens, becoming richer, almost like wine. Or in other words, like a stew you kept on the stove for too long. If it simmers any longer, it might just burn. I suppose we could put it to the test. After all, no matter what happens to you, all we have to do is turn back time.”

You keep quiet.

“You can hear me, right? Why not give some sort of reaction? I would not mind seeing you miserably struggle in vain.”

You still fail to give a response.

“Guess she really did lose consciousness. Judging by the looks of it, I doubt she will wake up even if I were to rewind time. I guess you could consider us even now. Perhaps I went a little too easy on her, but I shall forgive her now.”

He takes a step back.

“Such an innocent sleeping face. Almost as if the obscene expressions you showed me earlier were nothing but a lie. Your sheer white complexion and screams were not bad. As well as how you would cling onto my clothes, remaining by my side despite your obvious fear.”

*Thud*

“...Ah!”

*Cling*

“The hourglass...”

Ruki picks up the Hourglass.

“That man might have been testing me after all...Me? Or rather, us? ...Now that I think about it twice, the ability to manipulate time is something which should only ever be given to God. We could have possibly overthrown all logic in this world if we so wished. Yet, we used it to cover up for trivial mistakes. Then this is basically just some child’s toy. However...I am sure that was for the best.”

He turns his head to look at you.

“You might be more of a genius than I thought. However, how many times did you rewind? The magic has almost run dry. The few times I rewinded are basically irrelevant. I wonder just how many times you repeated your own ridiculous mistakes? Oh well, I shall drag that out of her later. I doubt she will easily confess though. ーー No, I suppose there is no point in asking her. I can simply confirm it with my very own eyes.”

*Cling*

“With this amount, we can still turn back time just once. That’s plenty.”

*Thud*

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

“Hm…”

You approach Ruki.

“Oh? It’s you. No, it’s nothing serious. I was simply lost in thought.”

You take notice of the hourglass in his hand.

“You seem curious. Are you that interested in this thing? Blood red sand…Its decorations are beautiful as well. It would make for the perfect interior piece.”

You ask if there is a catch.

“No, it’s jsut a regular old hourglass. There is nothing special about it.”

*Thud*

“More importantly, you mentioned you wanted to look for resources for your assignment, right? Meet me at the library during tomorrow’s break time. I shall help you.”

You seem surprised.

“Yes. As your Master, it is my duty to look after you. However, do not be late, okay?”

You nod.

( Well then...I wonder what the next few days will have in store for me? How many mistakes will you make, and how many times will you get punished by me? ...I am looking forward to it. )

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally he says that he always intended to be the one ‘holding the reins’, but instead he was actually tied up/restrained this whole time. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Crying: Savvie on Trial

CW: Whumper POV, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, video of whumpee's child, intense child therapy recording, referenced shock collar and past drugging, emotional/physical abuse, trauma response, child re-enacting trauma

Note: CW for whumper’s justifications for their abuse in internal monologue

@comfy-whumpee‘s Jax Gallagher finally escapes Savannah Marcoset’s obsession with him, with two children in tow and nearly a decade of abuse and trauma written in his mind and on his skin.

Determined to ensure his children will be protected from the Marcoset family’s potential revenge, Jax goes to court one more time - taking down Savvie, her uncle Isaac, and most of his children in the process. 

Savvie sees the second trial, with its ironclad evidence against her, as Jax’s betrayal of her love for him. When a video of their daughter is shown in court, Savvie and Jax are both surprised - and react in very different ways.

While Savvie does not interact with her children, her thought process is... intense. And so is a brief video depicted in the piece.

---

Even Savvie understands she can't charm her way out of this one.

It was one thing to be in her early twenties and beautiful, full of innocent misunderstandings, to tell anyone and everyone that she hadn't known he wasn't above-board (she had), she had thought she was doing a good thing letting him speak to his father (now that was a mistake), he was her best friend and her rock in the hard days after her parents' loss and she simply couldn't remember life without him (that was never a lie). 

The earnest sincerity in her tone as she explained to her prison therapist how hard she was working at understanding the consequences and working to improve herself had simply been more believable then than it could ever be now. 

You can’t very well have the love of your life abducted twice without it becoming a very difficult decision to defend.

This time, she understands that batting her eyelashes can't make her seem like simply another victim of all these terrible cruelties of the world. She is not going to leave the walls of prison once she walks inside. Not this time.

 After all, the second time, she had had her uncle abduct him out of his own father’s apartment and steal his passport and every other form of ID he might have.

Isaac had drugged him, the Marcoset family employees had stolen his passport and identification, kept him slurred, floppy and hardly conscious on a private plane ride that took just a little less than eight hours, drugged again, and driven to her house to wake up tied to a chair in her practice room, right back where he belonged.

He probably didn’t even enjoy the luxury of the plane. It occurs to Savvie now that she never once asked him if he remembered any of the time he’d spent on the plane with Isaac, if he remembered anything between the men who grabbed him and Savvie bringing her violin up to welcome him home.

You can hardly blame that whole re-abduction thing on being young and foolish, and you definitely can't blame it on the indiscretions of youth when you are thirty years old.

Thirty-seven.

She dismisses the thought.

She is clearly only thirty. She doesn't look a day older, and Jax looks… younger, she thinks, mildly surprised at the realization. Younger, with more weight on him and a set to his jaw that she hasn't seen since… since the first day of his return, when he spit insults at her before she drugged him again, and he was so lax, so pliant, and she had known he would marry her one day from that first moment he curled back up and fell asleep with her hands on him. She just hadn't told him that, at first. 

No one here understands how thoroughly Jax belongs to her, not even him, not anymore. He no longer wears his wedding ring, though she thinks there's still a hint of a tan line there. Maybe not. Might just be a scar. 

He's changed his pretty platinum piercings out for duller metal, plus added back the ones she'd taken out of him herself. They're defiant, those bits of rebellion she never allowed him put back in place. She pictures when she took them out, the way he kept his eyes down for it, swaying a little from what she'd given him in his water. Felt a thrill run up her spine at the memory, his soft slurred voice murmuring Yes, Miss Savvie, one of her favorite sounds in the world. 

He looked better the other way. Her way.

All his scars are definitely still hers, though. He can't forget her. He can wear new rings in his ears and eyebrow and lip and he can dress in grubby low-class clothing that isn't even tailored, but every single scar is a scar she has memorized, and he can’t erase them. They all belong to her, and he knows it, and he knows his body is hers and has been and will always be. 

The scars around his neck - her scars, the little circular spots she wants to trace with her fingernails over and over until he begs her to stop, until she forces him to hold his breath, to get that faraway look in his eyes, until he leans in for a carefully cultivated kiss - give too much away. He can't hide them all. 

The ones on his hands, too, are hers, although those are mostly accidental. There are some on his back, subtle, hidden by his button-up shirt and suit jacket where he sits, so close to her and impossibly far away. 

The back, she did on purpose, dragging nails through his skin until blood welled up, streaks of red that stained her manicured nails, sitting on his lower back leaning over him, her hair a waterfall that brushed his skin. She can remember clearly the way he fought to stay still for her, remembers the pain she gave him with his daughter soft and sweet and so very new in a bassinet only a few feet away, how he'd bled from his palms and stained her sheets in his effort to keep himself quiet enough not to wake the baby.

She's never going to forget that. 

Unfortunately... neither will the jury. 

He's banking on it, she thinks, throwing everything out there that he might have kept hidden otherwise. Everything she thought he wouldn't want his father to know, or to be televised… he gets up on the stand, or he sits next to his lawyer, and he gives away all of it. 

He tells them about the wedding, the judge who knew her family and married them with her uncle Isaac and his family as witnesses and guests. He describes, detached from what clearly horrifies the jury, how during his worst injuries, she made the simple task of giving him the pain medication he needed into a game of how good he could be to earn it. He even tells them, with a strange sort of tone in his voice, about the day she told him she was pregnant with Isabella. 

On the stand, he says the day she had him open the box to find the custom cake with CONGRATULATIONS, DADDY written in frosting was the worst day of them all.

And yet… and yet, after sitting up there telling the jury, and the witnesses in the courtroom, and the judge how unhappy he was… still, he won’t let her anywhere near her son and daughter, not even to say goodbye. 

He bleeds out all his pain, just to keep her from seeing her own children. Just to keep her from having access to what belongs to her. 

Her daughter, her son… him.

Her husband, the love of her life, handing every scar and welt and night they spent together over in his bid to keep her from ever touching him again. It’s cruelty, is what it is. She had never known how cruel he was until he ran away from her. 

He had stared at something far away while he related the story of her uncle dislocating his shoulder and breaking his arm (which, that had been a little much, but she’d made sure Isaac never did it again!), his weeks of pure perfect helpless dependence on her. 

She had watched him speak, remembering the way he leaned forward those days when she made sure that dinner was soup, taking each bite from the spoon she held in her hand. The thrill of leaving him just a little bit hungry, that much more willing to be sweet the next morning.

He belongs to her, and he is going to take everything away. 

His scars, the story written on his body of how she loves him, will be her ruin, this time. Well, that, and the existence of the children he has already turned against her. The children she has already been court-ordered never to see or speak to again. She won't even legally be their mother anymore, he and his devious fucking lawyer are even scheming to take her rights as their mother away. Those children are hers, and how dare he take them, when they were hers first.

He didn't even want them, when they were born - and now he acts like he is the only parent they have. 

The worst part, though...

He won't look at her. It's fucking infuriating.

She tries to catch his eye, now and then, and fails. She looks at him with her head tilted to make her hair fall against her cheekbone when he enters the courtroom with his hair all chopped off again. 

He ignores her. 

She shifts in her elegant, tailored dress - no low neckline or sheer fabric, all sobriety and seriousness to show she will be a model defendant. She wears a silver locket she bought years ago, based on an old Victorian design - a lock of his hair is inside it, curled just so. 

He still doesn’t look, even though he knows his hair is in the locket, she showed him when she put it there. She’d cut it while he was sleeping, and showed him when he woke, to see his face go still, his eyes raise to her face only with effort. If she’s honest... she wanted that hesitation, that uncertainty.

In a deep ocean blue, her pale skin and bright, wide blue eyes are set against her dark brown hair, pulled carefully back each day. She looks stylish, and still modest.

She looks innocent.

 It just... doesn’t matter anymore how she looks. The problem is that she isn’t innocent, and no amount of cultivating an image can overcome the evidence against her. But at least she’s trying. 

Now, Jax… She's pretty sure he wore that same gray suit to her last trial. It had hung on him before, too big for how underweight he was. She had liked the way it sharpened his cheekbones, then. Yes… it's definitely the same suit.

She would remember, of course - she had spent the whole trial, all those years ago, staring at him, wondering if she would ever see him again. He'd mostly looked at the floor, then, but she had gotten his eyes on hers a time or two, seen him stare after her as she was led from the courtroom. She had spent the time mourning his loss, before he ever truly left, and then coming to the certainty that she would never allow him to be taken away from her, not forever. No, they were made for each other, meant to be together forever. She had been convinced his father had tricked in, told him lies about her. 

Even after she knew, deep down, that he wanted to stay gone, she knew just as firmly she would never allow that.

Planning to bring him home again, before he ever stepped foot on the plane that carried him across the ocean away from her, had filled all her days and nights. It had made prison seem so short, just a pause before she could bring him home. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

If he would only look at her... 

She tries to catch his eye, but he never looks at her once. It rankles, makes her teeth itch, to see him stare straight ahead, look at the judge or his lawyer, and never at her. He's doing it on purpose - he must be. He's messing with her. That son of a bitch is messing with her, while he takes away her marriage, her money, her house, her entire life, her children. 

She still loves him, even though he keeps his eyes turned away. She still loves him so much, more than he could ever deserve. She would tell him that, if she could, if they’d just give her a chance. She’ll find a way, somehow. She’ll find a way to remind him that she is never, ever going to let him just walk away. Break his legs, maybe.

The judge says something, and she blinks.

She wasn't paying attention, too busy watching Jax not watch her, and now there is a TV on a stand being wheeled in front of them all. Savvie gives a surreptitious glance around the courtroom, but no one else looks surprised. The jury looks bored, mostly, maybe. Or like they hate her.

It's not as easy to win over the jury now. She’s a woman whose children have been stolen by their vindictive, cruel father, who with his soft sad voice calls himself a captive during his testimony, stammering through the stories that explain all his scars. She’s no longer a violin prodigy in mourning, a young ingenue who just didn't understand what she'd done wrong. 

Or who pretended not to, at least. 

There were parts she genuinely hadn’t understood, maybe, although she is no longer young enough to want to lie to herself completely. He was never just her best friend, her confidant, the thing she loved most in the world. He was always going to be more than that.

God, he looks good today. Jax shifts in his seat, slight creak of the wood, whispers something to his lawyer. She just sees his eyes, in her general direction but not on her, as he moves. The lawyer whispers back, puts a hand on his shoulder. 

He might look confused, as he and the lawyer speak. No, not confused. Troubled? She knows just how to smooth the crease from between his eyebrows, how to lay her hand on his forehead until he gives her a slight soft smile, turns his face to nuzzle against her palm. She knows how to leverage his fear enough to get what she wants from him, again and again and again. The lawyer doesn’t do that.

Jax just speaks, even and strong. 

The lawyer doesn’t know what he sounds like when he trembles, has never slid the blindfold over his eyes with a knife in the room, not planning to use it, just wanting him to think she will. 

No one will ever, ever, know him the way she does.

Savvie straightens her posture, moves just enough to make her locket glint in the light, hoping it will catch him enough to raise his eyes to hers. 

Look at me. Look at me, sweetie. You don't get to stay gone for good, I don't care what you did, look at me. I still love you. Fucking look at me, Jax. Just one look. 

He keeps his eyes slightly down as he shifts away and back to look towards the TV, but he's tense. She knows every inch of the muscles under that old gray suit, how they move under his skin. No one, no one, knows that body as well as she does. She made the scar that runs soft as a kiss over a shoulder blade, and she knows he’s nervous about something now. Unhappiness runs under her skin like an electric charge as she understands that what he’s nervous about isn’t her.

She follows his gaze to the rolled-in television, one of the big heavy ones that must be ten years out of date, and she frowns, folding her hands in her lap, as Jax’s lawyer stands and speaks briefly to the judge, and then moves to the TV with something in his hands. 

“What is this?” She whispers to her own lawyer, one of her hands sliding up to run over the flowers etched in tiny relief into the surface of the locket. 

Her lawyer shakes his head, either he doesn’t know or he won’t explain. He’s doing what he can, she thinks, but of course she was never going to be acquitted. The scars she loves are evidence against her, the children are evidence all their own - he didn’t even want them, she grumbles within herself again. She told Bella that, over and over again, that her father didn’t even want her to be born, that Jax had struggled to even feign happiness, and still the little girl was ripped out of her hands just so he could get his revenge on her. James was just an infant, he wasn’t old enough - but Bella could have come running back in, before Jax walked away. 

Bella could have warned her that her father was going to steal their passports and her money and run out of the hotel, get on trains going different directions to throw her off, and finally head back to his fucking father, who she should have killed years ago when she had the chance.

Isabella should have warned her. It’s her fault, really, all of this. It’s her daughter’s fault that she will never see the outside of a prison again.

How many times did she tell her daughter how much her father must hate her for existing? And still… still, the little girl chose him. Savvie’s fingers close over the locket until the point at the bottom of the heart presses painfully into her skin. Her children, her daughter, her son, her husband. Taken from her, and she’s the villain here? 

How dare he.

The TV lights up flat blue until the lawyer gets the recording to start playing, and Savvie blinks as it opens on a recorded scene, showcasing a large room with deep green carpet standing in for ‘grass’, the walls painted with a nonstop mural of rolling hills, flowers, trees, blue sky. Daisies dot the wall, flowers made by tiny handprints in bright colors, each fingerprint a petal, with a yellow circle in the center and a green stem. She can see a yellow sun painted in one corner. Shelves line the painted walls, with toys and big blocky board books, stuffed animals spill out of a basket in the corner. There are blocks, faded with time and use of many little hands.

At a small table painted with dancing animals, sitting in a chair, is Savvie’s daughter Isabella.

She sits up, hearing her own chair creak, and glances sidelong to see Jax suddenly stiffen, eyes widening just the smallest bit. He’s surprised, too, she thinks, and then her eyes go to the jury, trying to read them. The twelve of them - eight women and four men - don’t look at her or Jax. Only the television.

This isn’t a new recording - Bella is so young, with her gorgeous brown hair so like her mother’s spilling in an overwhelming heap around her. This must be from six months or less after Jax stole them in the first place. Savvie fiddles with the locket, nervous in a way she can’t explain. Her little girl isn’t even wearing a dress, but instead swings her little feet in sneakers, wearing jeans and a Paw Patrol t-shirt, humming to herself.

On the table sits a dollhouse, one of those elaborate plastic affairs. Savvie can see a small claw-foot bathtub, a big four-poster bed, an overstuffed armchair. All of it faded, patched, or repaired as small hands have broken or torn or played rough.

Bella, though, sits quietly, and she is gentle with the dolls as she moves them through the house. She has in one hand a doll wearing a blouse and skirt and a brown ponytail, and in the other a doll in a suit with a tie. 

“What are we pretending, Izzy?” A man’s voice asks, and he comes into view, settling right down next to her. Savvie’s lip curls. Izzy? What an awful nickname for her beautiful delicate pretty little girl. Who would see such a lovely little thing, and hear as gorgeous a name as Isabella, and choose to call her Izzy?

“Mom and Dad,” The little girl answers, faint in the way of a distracted child. “I’m playing Mom and Dad.”

Savvie hasn’t heard her daughter’s voice in… in so long, now. She feels a twist of envy that the sound of that high piping voice has been taken from her, too. Jax is taking everything from her, piece by piece. She glances at him - his gaze is fixed on the television screen, mouth slightly open. Her husband, handsome if rumpled and ruined by changing his hair and his appearance, doesn’t take his eyes off his daughter. 

He won’t look at her, no, his wife and the only thing that should matter, but he’ll fucking stare at a recording of his child.

Not her husband anymore, or so he says, and technically he never legally was, but that’s not really important. They’re married for life. It doesn’t matter what Jax thinks. It doesn’t matter what he wants. It doesn’t matter that he took her children and he’s throwing himself in front of them like he thinks Savvie is a moving bus, all to get her locked away. It doesn’t matter.

He still belongs to her.

He does.

He does.

“‘Don’t look at her,’” The little girl says in a voice she deepens a little, looming the Mom doll over the Dad one. “‘Look at me.’”

“Is the Mommy doll saying that to the Daddy doll?” The man in the recording keeps his voice even, and curious. Jax, to her right, shifts in his seat and leans slightly forward. His hands are folded in his lap, closed into fists. 

“Yes,” Bella answers, glancing briefly at the man, then going back to her game. “She doesn’t like when the Dad looks at the little girl too much.”

“And why doesn’t she like that?”

“Because everyone is supposed to always look at the Mom.” Bella sets the female doll down briefly and picks up a smaller one, a little girl with pigtails and a pink dress. “The little girl scraped her leg and it is bloody,” She informs the man, very seriously. “She didn’t mean to make her dad look at her.” She has big brown eyes, and Savvie swallows, thinking now she understands why this video is being shown to the court. She remembers this - she doesn’t remember a lot of what Jax would complain to her about, what he kept calling abuse until she shocked him often and severely enough to make him stop, but she… remembers this. 

“How did she scrape her leg, Izzy?”

Savvie swallows against a burst of rage. Don’t you dare say it, Bella, don’t you fucking dare.

“Mommy shoved her,” Bella answers, and the courtroom around Savvie is so silent she can hear her own pulse, blood rushing in her ears. “Because she was crying.” Her tiny voice is matter-of-fact, it doesn’t shake with real tears or upset. She simply relates a thing that happened, play-acting it out in her game as if it were the most normal thing in the world. 

“‘Don’t hurt her,’” Bella says in a low voice, shaking the male doll over the female one. “The Dad says that. He is telling the Mom that the little girl didn’t mean to cry. The little girl says that she will be good and stop crying now, but the Mom doesn’t believe her.”

“Why was the little girl crying?” The man’s voice is so soft and kind. Savvie feels a sudden urge to find him in whatever hellhole office in Britain he works out of and strangle him to death with her bare hands.  

“The Mom told her she is a bad girl,” Bella replies, and droops a little, now.

“Why would she say that?”

“Because she is,” Bella says, softer than ever. At his table, next to his lawyer, Jax makes a sound. It’s not a word, it’s not understandable. It’s hardly audible - Savvie thinks even the jury likely didn’t hear it. But she did, and she looks subtly over at him to see his face is pale and his hazel-brown eyes are oddly glittery under the fluorescent lights. “She isn’t very good at being a little girl, she’s so bad. She made noises when the mom didn’t want her to.”

“Izzy-”

“‘Don’t say that,’” Bella makes the dad doll say, shaking him in the air, angry, picking up the mom doll to face off with him, their two plastic carved faces with fake smiles inches apart. “‘Don’t say that, Savvie. She is a good little girl and you are mean to her, you are being a mean mommy.’”

Savvie closes her eyes. Fuck. 

“‘How dare you,’” The mom doll says, and Savvie can’t quite force herself to miss how perfectly her daughter can echo her anger, how her voice rises with it. “‘She is mine and I will say whatever I want! She is mine mine mine.’”

Well… she is.

“‘Yes, Savvie,’” The dad doll says, Bella’s little-girl voice feigning depth, and from the corner of her eye she sees Jax shudder, the slightest movement of his body, barely perceptible. “‘But you can’t talk mean to little girls and boys.’”

“‘I am the mom and I can do whatever I want.’” Bella, expression deeply serious, sets the mom doll down and starts fiddling with the dad doll’s legs. She bites down on her lower lip as she works, finally figuring it out and Savvie feels her stomach drop as Bella sets the dad doll up - kneeling on the floor.

“What happens now, Izzy? What are you doing?”

Bella looks up at the doctor, and the grainy video of the recording blurs and lessens the impact, Savvie hopes. She doesn’t dare look at the jury now. Instead, she tries to think of what she’ll say - it’s a lie, Bella was coached, Jax and the lawyer and this Dr. Marty are all teaching Bella to tell lies, he hates her so much he’s poisoning her babies against her. Something, she’ll say something-

“‘Get on your knees for discipline,’” Bella says, in her mom-voice. 

Jax, at his table, closes his eyes and leans forward, one hand over his mouth. His shoulders shake, once, and it reminds her of every time she set off his collar, but much too quick for that. She can’t stop watching him - she shouldn’t, it doesn’t look good when a video like this is playing, but she can’t… stop. He looks so fucking good.

There’s a red streak, a flush, in his cheekbone but otherwise his face is nearly white, the piercings standing out even more than before. His hand grips over his mouth, and she thinks about every time she has pressed her own hand there, with a smile, to mute his objections. His eyes open to look back at the screen, not like he wants to but like he can’t stop himself, like he’s drawn to watch against his will.

“How often does that happen?” The man asks, in his casually neutral voice, and Savvie would put a bullet between his eyes if she could. How dare he, this is leading. At the same time, she feels a sudden swell of rage towards the little girl being led. Bella knew how to keep secrets before Jax left, did she forget so soon? He must have told her-... but no, no, he’s as surprised to see this video as Savvie is. No, this little game is entirely Bella’s fault. Savvie takes in a breath, lets the anger sweep through her, loathes her own child, so thoroughly turned against her now. 

She can lay all of this at the feet of a four-year-old girl. Well, not four any longer. But four when this happened. Or five. When is Bella’s birthday?

How old is she, now? 

Bella only shrugs at the question, lost in her game now. She has the mom doll tell the dad doll to stay quiet - “‘You’ll upset her, honey, you know better than to say no to me’” - and then acts out the dad doll shaking from the shocks, and finally makes him scream, the sound deafening loud in the silent courtroom.

She does a pretty good impression of the way Jax sounds when he’s screaming, actually. If the jury didn’t hate Savvie before, they definitely do now.

The man in the video looks surprised and sits back a little, then asks, almost tentatively, “And what does the little girl do?"

Bella sets the dolls down and picks the little girl one up, frowning at her. “She watches,” She says, voice low and soft. 

“Why does the little girl watch?”

“Because it’s her fault.” Bella’s voice trembles. “If she looks away, her mom will make it worse. She can’t-... she can’t help.” She looks at the doctor, something imploring in big brown eyes and her rounded small-child face. “She tries and tries and she can’t keep her dad safe.”

Damn straight it’s your fault. Savvie fights to keep her irritation and annoyance from showing on her face, tries to look sympathetic, maybe even worried. She’s usually good at this, but at the moment, she’s so angry at Bella for repeating this on a video, for giving Jax another tool to hurt her with, that she isn’t quite sure if she pulls off a sad expression at all.

“It’s not a little girl’s job to keep her daddy safe, Izzy,” The man says, softly, soothing. Reassuring. 

“It is her job,” Bella says, and shakes her head, looking at the little girl in her hand. “But she’s not good enough at it. She’s too little, she can’t do anything. I hate her!” She throws the doll across the room in a sudden burst of anger - it flies offscreen, but the clatter of it hitting something is audible - then claps her hands over her mouth, staring wide-eyed in horror. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I’m not angry I’m sorry, I know better, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

The man speaks to her, trying to interrupt the flow of apologies, It’s all right, Izzy, nothing is broken, you are allowed to feel angry, you are allowed to be angry about this, hoping to hold back the waterfall of her sudden fear. The little girl turns her face away from him, pulls her hands down and rubs them compulsively, nervously along the seams of her leggings. She shakes her head at something the man says and looks down at the floor, the green-grass carpet, her own brightly colored tennis shoes. 

Her hands close into fists, as tightly as they can, a perfect echo of her father.

Jax’s shoulders shake again, and this time Savvie recognizes the sound, it sings deep down into her soul. It’s a sob, desperately muffled. He’s trying to hide it, but he can’t hide, not from her. She knows all his sounds of pain by heart. He says something to his lawyer, less whispered, less controlled. 

She thinks she hears a please, and hates him for giving that word to anyone but her.

The video cuts off, and Jax’s lawyer calls for a recess. Savvie rolls her eyes when the judge grants it - theater, that’s all this is, make Jax look all bothered by a stupid video, so he’s the sad scared little man and she’s the big bad witch. It’s so transparent, really. He does a good job acting, though, his face is reddened and she can see the faintest glimmer of a tear track as his hated awful father stands, from his own spot in the first row, to take him by the arm. Jax leans, just barely, away from him and he never looks up as he’s led down the aisle and out. They’re talking to each other, in voices too low for her to overhear, except to hear Jax’s crack a little.

Oh. Maybe he’s not entirely acting.

Savvie stands as the courtroom erupts into whispers, ignoring the weight of every eye on her and her lawyer’s attempts to get her to sit back down, looking after the two of them, and she wonders what about the video upset him so much.

Maybe it was just the crying.

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