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honesthammie · 3 years

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From my prompt list:

4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.

Fandom:Doctor who

Pairing: 13 x gender neutral reader

This is my first fic on tumblr. I know its hella long and not all of my fics will be like this. This came to me from a dream I had recently. I love Jodie and I decided to write the spider episode from a different perspective. I may have change the episode slightly to fit the reader. I am thinking of doing a part 2 but it may be a while before I do as I have deadlines and stuff to keep up with. The next part may be more fluff between 13 and yourself. I know this didn't have much but it's something. I'm also sorry to any Americans reading this, I love yas but its just the personality I put to go with the readers personality. I'm also sorry for any spelling mistakes as I'm doing this on my phone.

Summary: spider episode with a small change I'm plot to accommodate your beautiful self in this fic

Warnings: slight description of a couple of panic/anxiety attacks, swearing and a bit of angst. Long intro for small fluff. And it's a part 1 do I guess a small cliffhanger is a warning?

Beep beep beep. Your alarm starts blaring in your ears, waking you up with a start. You glare at the interrupting machine before turning it off. After such a crazy night, you did not want your sleep so rudely interrupted. Why did you have a crazy night? It's your 18th birthday today and your friends decided to visit your place for a little house party, last night, to celebrate and now you have a pounding headache.

You groaned as you realised, you would need to take some pain meds before you even think about going back to sleep. Slipping out of your bed, you walk to the bathroom and find the cupboard with all sorts of medicinal and bathroom bits and bobs. You then grab the glass that you placed there in preparation for the definite hangover. The glass was a little cold to the touch but you filled it with some cool water from the sinks tap.

You took two, just so you could have a longer sleep. You waddle back into your bedroom and just as you get comfy, you widen your eyes at the memory. You needed to see your mother today, she said she had a gift for you but she would only be at home until 11. You looked at the machine that you hated for the time. It was currently 10:05. You jumped to your feet and rush to get ready.

As you walked outside, you saw the regular red strings that you saw everyday. Why do you see strings? You honestly didn't know, but you knew their purpose, it helped match 2 soulmates together. But something seemed a little off, there was no one on the street anymore, so why could you still see one line of destiny? You decided to follow the string south, down to your own (s/c) hand which was now slightly shaking at the sight.

"Fuck. Fuck,fucky fucking fuck. Why now? Why me? What the shit is going on with me?" You curse to yourself. You could feel your breath getting rapid and your head started spinning slightly. You quickly unlocked your car and sat down to help calm you down. You took a few deep breaths and focused on your senses.

When you eventually calmed down, you decided to look at where the string led. Oh, how you shouldn't have looked. It didn't go in any way of a compass, it went straight up and past the clouds. How? You had so many questions but you had to focus on the day ahead.

You had been to your mothers house and collected your new (fave game series) and your card. You were incredibly thankful as you have been saving up to buy it for yourself one day. You had played the previous games and loved every one of them and to say you were excited was an understatement. You almost ran back into your place if it wasn't for needing the key to access the gates.

Living in a gated community helped you feel a lot safer but it did also make you a big target for thieves to practise picking locks. No one had figured out where the hidden camera that kept alerting the authorities was though. Even you have tried put of plain curiosity but you got stumped after the 10th day of searching. You were sure you looked in every possible hiding spot, yet the camera always seemed to evade you in the pointless game of hide and seek.

As you unlocked the gate, you felt a twitch on your finger. The string was moving down and at a very fast pace, almost falling speed. You looked up and saw a small black dot heading towards the ground, if thats your soulmate, they would certainly be dead the second they meet their fate. When you could no longer see the dot, you kept your eyes glued to the string, waiting for it to disappear like everyone else's did when a soulmate died.

After five minutes, the string was still there and was still as red as ever, like no harm had come to them. But thats not possible. No creature could survive that especially from that great a height! You were beyond curious and quickly went into your living room and searched on all your social media for anyone else that may have spotted the dot in the sky, yet no one had but you knew (b/f) had another massive fight with their roommate, Stella, over whose turn it was to do the dishes again.

If you didn't know that Stella was in a relationship with another, you would have sworn those two were in a relationship. You giggled at the silly thought, "if Stella ever goes through a break up with her, I'm totally gonna set those two up."

You give up on finding anything out today, maybe it'll be on the news tomorrow and you set off to go on an online shopping spree, you had a few codes and now, thanks to your wonderful mother, had a little cash to spare and you did see that gorgeous top on sale. Once you had spent the day either shopping or gaming you decided to head to bed but you couldn't stop thinking about that dot and what the red string meant for you.

When your alarm had went off, you hit it and got dressed for your new job at some hot shot posh hotel run by an aspiring American with High expectations and little experience with Sheffield. You had been told you wouldn't get to meet him much and you were beyond fine with that, you hated Americans, simply because you hated violence and guns were the big no on your weaponry list of avoidance. You didn't mind weapons in video games, those were harmless to the outside world. You didn't mind verbal violence though, it was all you had to defend yourself with and in Sheffield, that was better than nothing. You were very short tempered when it came to your anger but you found that it was either verbal or physical, you chose to be verbal.

You looked at your phone for any messages from (b/f) and had a good luck message. You replied with a smiley face and a "ill need all the luck I can get. I've heard from a few employees that he can be a real asshole for no reason and fires people just because they made eye contact for too long. It's like he suspects someone is out for his blood."

After 2 minutes you received a reply from from them. "You better be on your best behaviour then, young lady!"

"That's the problem. I wonder what the record is for the quickest a person has got fired? Because I may break that, you know me! I don't exactly do as I'm told, that's why finding a job has been so hard. Anyway, I best get ready, gotta look the part! First impressions and all!" You replied with a nervous face. What you failed to notice was the red string no longer pointing towards the sky and you were making it shorter with every step you took. You did give up on finding out about the strange dot and came to the assumption that it fell in a lake, there were plenty of them around.

You walked into the swanky looking hotel and noticed the cobwebs that definitely were not there two days ago when you had your interview, yet they looked like they had been there for weeks. You would have put it down to Halloween decorations if it wasn't for the fact that it was June. You decided to not ask in case this was some sort of strange new American trend that your boss was following to help bring in the youth. It does help make it fit into Sheffield a lot more with the run down and abandoned look. It would need some rust, water damage, mold and cracks to finish the look but it was a start. If you had to be honest, the spider webs helped bring the place together. It was way too posh for Sheffield but you had to lie and say you love it in order to get hired. Just from that lie alone you knew exactly the personality of your boss, arrogant, vain and ignorant.

"Hello, you must be my new helper! I'm Najia, your second in command here. As you can see, there are loads of spider webs so they should be priority. If you could start cleaning in the south west second floor and continue that floor, that would be amazing. Now here's your cleaning trolley and if you happen to finish the floor early, send me a little message through the walkie talkie and I'll give you another room or floor. Do you have any questions?" Najia spoke softly. She seemed lovely and it was shame that she had to be in a place that would get more damage than its worth.

"Just one question: why so many spider webs?"

"I don't know, they just seemed to have appeared, I thought it was silly string from some teenagers that managed to break in somehow but it is actual spider web. It wasn't here when I left last night. I guess I'll have to ask someone about that."

And with that you separated and got to your floor when you finally noticed a slight burning sensation on your finger, it wasn't hurtful. It was like putting the finger in a really hot bath. You looked down and noticed it now pointed downhill and seemed to be glowing a shade of gold ever so gently that you would miss it if the weird sensation didn't make you look.

You left your trolley outside a toilet to make it seem like you were in there when really you had wondered off to follow the string. You would probably lose yourself in the maze of hallways that all looked the same as the last if the string didn't help lead you to a ballroom. You opened the door and instantly screamed. A giant spider was walking towards you, however you couldn't get out, you had used a staff door which needed a key card to use from this side as the other side still needed to be fitted and you left yours in the trolley, near the toilets. And the massive spider seemed to be blocking the other way out so you were trapped.

You weren't scared of spiders but seeing them at the size of a van did intimidate you. You started shaking from fear of what it would do to you. Out of pure instinct, you put your hand out to protect yourself and the sound of 8 legs against wooden flooring had ceased. The only sound was your laboured breathing. It stayed like this for what seemed like hours but in actuality was only 5 minutes. You opened your eyes slowly to see 8 more stare right back. 8 eyes that showed fear but no intention of harm. Instead the spider gave you space to breathe by walking back a few feet. Then it seemed to be watching you, studying your next move to see if you were a threat and whether or not it should kill you.

You stayed still for a moment, wrapping your head around what had just happened before gently walking towards the creature with both hands forward to show them clean of weapons. You decided to try and speak to the spider to see if it can understand you.

"Hello. I'm new around here, I'm sorry if I'm trespassing on your area, I wasn't aware of you being here to be honest. I mean you no harm, if anything, I want to help you but unfortunately, I'm stuck in here aswell." You spoke carefully as if it was a child that was afraid. You gently put your hand in its head and it seemed to understand your good intentions and your situation as it let you pet it. Now you were close, you started to admire it and realised it wasn't poisonous or venomous, it was just a regular house spider. But you couldn't figure out how or why it got this big but it did explain the cobwebs everywhere.

You had been with the spider for hours and it seemed like Najia either didn't care or has gotten fired as she hasn't asked about you. You had spent the time talking or singing to the spider. She, as you found out after looking it up, seemed to put her body around you to protect you. You had even met a couple of her children as they gave you food from the cafeteria to nibble on when your stomach growled.

Eventually the burning on your fingers turned up massively and was causing you pain. The spider seemed to sense this and wrapped her web around your finger to help cool it down a little. It didn't help but you showed gratitude anyway as she was only trying to help in anyway she could. You gave her a small smile and her eyes seemed to show sympathy in return.

Then the doors opened again and the sound of several feet walked in. "Oh thank god. I thought I was never going to be found in here." You thought to yourself as you heard the voices mumble to each other and probably about Betty and what's the best way to get rid of her. You would have paid more attention if your finger didn't feel like it had caught fire and was tight as if your soulmate was amongst those that had walked in.

Now you were nervous. How would you introduce yourself? What did they look like? Were they male or female, not that you really cared? So many questions made you feel lightheaded so you grabbed onto Betty to keep yourself planted.

Then the door opened again and a familiar voice echoed in the hall and you knew exactly how he'd want to deal with Betty and after your bond today, you would rather die than her. She was obviously innocent here and maybe the others could see it. Then you heard the familiar click of a gun safety being taken off and your body reacted before your mind did and you jumped in front of her to stop him, although you had a feeling it wouldn't, but it was worth a shot for the others to stop him.

"Don't you fucking dare shoot that gun Dickhead! Not without going through me!" You spoke with fire in your eyes and maybe a slight mix if fear aswell. That's when you looked over at the new group of people. They all seemed trustworthy enough.

There was Najia, who welcomed you here earlier and she looked sad, so she had definitely been fired. Then there was another woman who looked a lot like her, you guessed she was a daughter or something and she was pretty and definitely somone with authority with the way she stood and held herself, maybe she is a police officer? A man who looked as though he was in his 50s and definitely did not belong in this weird group. A young man who looked of a similar age to the police woman, maybe they are friends.

Then you laid your eyes on one of the most beautiful woman, no, human, you had ever seen and would probably never see again. She had short blonde hair in a bob. They seemed to be brunette at the root. She had beautiful chocolate honey eyes that glimmers with so much emotion and age well beyond her years, like she had experienced thousands of years before this moment. You also noticed her odd sense of style but you admired her boldness and it did look amazing on her. You decided she could only be described as sunshine and rainbows.

Then you noticed her hand And a familiar red string that was also glowing a beautiful subtle gold. Like millions of tiny golden stars circled around the string in a beautiful dance of love. Your eyes started to follow the string down and back to your own. She was your soulmate. That goddess that stood before you, was to be yours forever some day.

Then you looked into her hypnotic eyes before you remembered where you were and what situation you were in. And you realised everyone was staring at you for your previous action towards a spider.

"If you want to keep your job, I'd suggest you move out of the way silly girl!" Your boss grumbled in a threatening tone.

"Nope. You are about to hurt an innocent creature that is stuck and terrified. You built on top of landfill and didn't bother to check and thought of no consequences. This is your fault. Is this how you would treat a child that was a mistake after a one night stand or something? Would you shoot a child that had no choice?" You spoke with confidence yet more nerves now she was there listening to every word. When he didn't answer you shouted "Answer me! Would you shoot your mistake of a child?"

He glared at you. "This is different. This is an animal. A pest. It needs to be killed so more can't be born! I made my mistake and now I'm fixing it!" He bellowed just seconds before a shot was made from his gun. You had expected pain but instead you heard a horrible shriek from behind you.

You quickly turned around and petted her whilst whispering sweet words as she took her last breath. You stood up and made your way over to the murderer. You couldn't stand him and you were so tempted to take his gun and shoot him with it, but you didn't. With fire in your eyes and pure hatred, you slapped him hard enough to leave a mark and maybe a bruise as a reminder of his shitty choices. "You can't fire me because I fucking quit you arrogant dick! She had caused no harm to you or I and I'm sure if you would have sorted it sooner, so many more lives could have been saved as she only had humans because flies didn't fill her anymore! She was so kind and just so afraid. I hope you lose everything you pathetic sad sack of boiled shit! You are truest one of the lowest excuses for a human I have ever met and if we meet again please be very afraid, because next time, it won't just be a slap you have to worry about! It'll be your balls as I cut them off beacuse men like you shouldn't repopulate the planet! You horrid scum! I hope your empire fucking collapses!" You spoke with venom lacing every word. You were seething and boy did his face look punchable. Instead you walked away with your middle finger proudly being the last thing he sees as you walk out the normal doors.

Once you were outside, you sat in the steps and finally let out all the emotions. You cried so hard, over your loss of yet another job and a newly found friend. You screamed at him with a string of curses that would offend just about anybody. You suddenly felt somone sit at the side of you. You knew who it was when the string was burning more than ever before and yet you couldn't feel it over the pain your heart.

"You did brilliant back there. You chose, not just your job, but your life over a creature you barely even knew! If you wouldn't have jumped in when you did, I don't think her children would've had a chance to escape to my TARDIS because he's going on a hunt right now for the rest of them. Sure, you didn't save her but you saved so many more lives than you think. And I know each one is eternally grateful for what you did. I know I would be." Her words were certain and sympathetic. They seemed to calm you down instantly. Or maybe is was the way she talked that helped with her soft but strong voice and you knew you already couldn't get enough like it was the best drug ever. You could listen to her all day and yet, she had said very little to you. It was a strange effect but you liked it.

She fell into a silence for a while just keeping you company as you came to terms with had happened.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #thirteenth doctor #doctor who

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leviiattacks · 4 years

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Two Faced | Chapter Three

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.5k → click here for the next part !

The wind beats down on the bustling market and the scarf tied to your head which masks just how messy your hair is today flies away, neither you or Sasha realise as the street is scattered with stalls which bloom like flowers peeping out of rocky cement and the babbles of the citizens of the Asmye District are all you can hear. The Sun has begun to set ever so slightly, and the night is a convincing ruse to avoid anyone from noticing who exactly you are. Nobility such as yourself venturing down here is looked down upon.

Twisting and turning through the streets you both do your best to locate a specific man, balding and in his late thirties you have some unfinished business with him.

After a solid thirty minutes your goal is met in the form of his book store. Rubbing your eyes in disbelief you and Sasha sigh with relief and clap eachother's hands in triumph.

Now to get that refund.

Researching magic is a new past time of yours and you find it to be intriguing but you've been scammed into paying for a few useless storybooks. You admit it's your fault for hurriedly purchasing "A boy and his broom" and "The tales of seven witches" without checking the contents inside but you thought you could trust the review the owner gave you. The way he smiled reminded you of Mother and that was more than enough for you to make an immediate purchase.

"Four silver coins." You try to be assertive and when that doesn't work you bite your lip, thinking deeply before alternating to your puppy dog eyes.

The merchant looks away, a faint blush is spotted, swiftly you take it as your opportunity and plead "Please. Please. Please." Looking up at him through your lashes you rub your hands together expectantly. Eventually, he yields and hands over what he owes you begrudgingly.

"Sashaaa. I got the money." You joyfully exclaim. She looks a little disappointed that you've been begging for money but she's promised to not tell the Duke about what you do down here.

You're actually gathering emergency funds if you need to run away which is why any money being wasted is a big deal to you even if it's just four coins. Sasha doesn't know of the magic or the reason why you're collecting money and you want to keep it that way.

"Mmhm Next stop is the Emerald Silk merchants I'd like to invest in some of the silk and reserve it."

Sasha gives you another weird look. You know it's because the Duke owns the Emerald merchants and you may run the risk of being recognised, it would be far easier for you to simply ask Levi for the rolls of silk but you never know if he'll revert to his past self. The last thing you want is for him to behead you as soon as he returns purely because you've leeched off of him.

"Sometimes I find it hard to believe you're Duke Ackerman's wife and do not find the urge to spend money in the way you should." Sasha confesses.

As you both walk you respond "Well, what way should I be spending money?" you inquire.

"As if you've got a never ending supply. You're a duchess." She whisper shouts at you.

Patting at your head you feel around for your scarf and realise it's been blown away by the wind.

"Ah. Your scarf oh no." Sasha frantically looks around panicked and you wonder who on Earth she had to have been serving before you for her to be so on edge by this minor occurrence. It's a scarf, nothing of much value or importance to you.

"It's alright I never liked it. I'd much rather let my hair flow free." Releasing your hair from the cramped confines of the ponytail it's in you skip ahead of her letting your hair fall naturally.

"M-My lady PLEASE. You can't walk around with your hair out like that."

"No one will know who I am so long as you don't call me Duchess." you call over your shoulder.

Little do you know a certain someone already has your scarf in their hands eyeing you from the distance.

It takes a while for you and Sasha to navigate through the crowded streets but you end up finding your way and requesting to reserve the twenty two rolls of silk.

On your way out you eye the sign and wonder why you find the name Emerald to be so endearing. You wonder if he chose the name himself, you assume he did because he had consulted you on other variations too. Pearl, Diamond, Amber, but Emerald sounds sincere and sweet.

Your attention being placed so intently on the sign leads you into the hard body of a stallion. Thankfully, the horse is docile and doesn't mind.

"Miss with the pretty hair!"

The height difference means you have to shield your eyes with the palm of your hand as you look upwards towards the mystery man. A shining face is what you are met with and a cheeky grin is plastered across it. Choppy chestnut locks frames his face, he shines brighter than anyone you've met - Apart from Levi of course. No one outshines him in your books.

Is he a noble? You look to his stallion then to his high end, sophisticated garments. He must be.

Your scarf is in between his fingers and he dangles it in front of you.

"Is this yours my lady?"

"Oh, why it is thank you." he gently places it into you hands and you take a look at Sasha. You don't really feel like being found out by a noble today. The Duke's reputation would be in tatters if others of nobility were to catch you mingling with "common folk", that term makes your face twist. You despise it.

Nonetheless, It would be miserable if they saw you arguing passionately for your rightful refund of four silver coins when you resided within the walls of the Ackerman estate, you're sure four silver coins is petty change to Levi. It would be even worse if they eyed what exactly you were refunding.

Sasha senses your nerves and chimes in just in time. "Well, we must get going good Sir. We're running late for an event until next time!"

Taking your hand she leads you towards your carriage and you wave at the young man. With the same bright smile he waves back and calls out "Until next time ladies!" he seems menacing but in the manner of a mischievous younger sibling.

Once you and Sasha have escaped and are in the enclosed space of your carriage do you ask her questions.

"That man, Who was that?" you question.

Hushed Sasha whispers "I heard he's called the crazy bee." You chuckle at that witty nickname, his honey like expressions were sweet it did add up. "There's rumours he sticks it into anyone." Oh. My Lord. Your mouth gapes open. That nickname, it makes a whole lot more sense now given this perspective.

"Viscount Kirstein, A womaniser who's recently returned from studying abroad not too long ago. Best to stay away from him."

Makes sense, you have no recollection of who he is the only conclusion you can draw is that he has to be from abroad.

Your legs kiss your chest as you sit in the carriage curled up. From that point on the rest of the trip back is quiet as Sasha has unknowingly nodded off to sleep and you want her to rest. It irks you how the other staff members push her around despite her position as Head maid. The least you can do for your friend is let her sleep.

Smiling at her you cover her with your shawl and sit down content with how you've left her. You too are about to drift off to sleep.

That is until you see the Duke outside. You didn't tell him you were going to the market and he won't stop inquiring until you or Sasha let him know what's going on.

Quickly ducking out of view it's too late and your sudden movement has woken Sasha up too. Levi's seen you through the corner of his eyes for sure. Damn him and his senses. He hates back handed tricks and if you encounter his real personality you'll be in trouble.

He just had to decide to come out on tour today of all days??

The carriage halts to a stop and Sasha exits making sure the door is closed, you hear her giving one of the Duke's knights a lukewarm excuse as to why she's out supposedly alone in a noble's carriage. Guilt fills you, she's always covering on your behalf.

"You there, stop." The Duke's icy voice enters the scene, seconds of silence pass, you're holding your breathe. It feels like the first time he came hunting for you.

Out of nowhere he flings the carriage door open.

Oh no, there's too many people outside. You can't be seen on the floor of a carriage with your hair out like this. No Duchess can be caught dead this way.

Without a seconds thought you yank him inside shielding yourself from the view of any outsiders, the door echoes closed.

There's an exchange of heavy breathing and just as you're about to look up at him with a brazen smile you realise he's drawn his sword out on you at a furious speed, it's dangerously close to the nape of your neck. His body is tensed up and so is yours. Huh. This feels...different.

"I thought I was being attacked by a mutt." he spits out, his brows are furrowed, the veins in his neck throb, stance wide, his teeth are bared. A mutt? This feels hostile, lips pressed together in a fine line your heart stops beating for a second.

"My Lord...?" you meekly call out to him.

Then out of nowhere he seemingly snaps out of it.

"I'm sorry." He releases you from the compromising position "I didn't even notice it was you my love. Are you hurt by an chance?" He's back to his usual self and is panicking checking every part of you, ensuring he hasn't left a scratch.

Hugging you warmly his embrace soothes you automatically and you feel the relief course through your system, of course he's on guard he's the Duke and he's out on tour after all.

"I'm fine." You quickly explain your reasoning for hiding and he nods "So, could you give a random excuse to the knights? I just didn't wish to lose my dignity so soon. You know the Duchess on the floor of her carriage with her hair like this." You laugh airily pointing at the birds nest on your head.

"You look beautiful either way. But I'll do as you please." And he leaves after gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Later that night you're getting ready for a good nights rest. The Duke has yet to return, he's always caught up in his duties and noble activities, You wish he'd take the time to relax. Hard work and dedication to his people is an ethic of his he'll never give up on.

He always gives you the option to excuse yourself from partaking in noble activities. The only real reason as to why you don't ever venture outside with him and are yet to make a public appearance together is fear. Fear that he'll wake up one day and throw you away.

You want to make it easy for him if he ever decides to do that. He won't have to erase your existence if you don't make yourself known.

Tossing and turning you shiver, something feels off. You've been feeling that way since he drew his sword against you earlier today. The way he looked at you, it's reminiscent of the first time you looked into those feline eyes. Once bright and full of life they had become charcoal and devoid of any distinct emotion, the duality between his two forms makes your breath falter.

Being reminded that the Levi you know and love isn't real only gets harder as time passes. It's all overthinking and being pointlessly anxious but it still gnaws at your mind at least once a day. He is all you have and he is all you will have until he too turns on you. Just like everyone else.

Suddenly, the acidity of the situation settles into every part of your being, you can't have anything can you? All the love you've ever received is short term - only available for intermittent periods of time.

You feel bitter tears pricks at the edges of your eyes. You want to control yourself, act with jurisdiction over your body, so you do. No tears are shed.

Later that night you awake. Rubbing at your eyes you stir in bed, and eventually one of your splayed arms feels Levi's solid form next to you. Half awake you shift to put an arm over his chest, drawing him in closer he squirms at your touch. That's when you feel a harsh iron grip on your wrist, it's bruising.

That alone is enough for you to become undone from your drowsy state. Opening your eyes you're met with an expansion of cold emptiness.

"Lev...? Whatever is the matter?" Innocent gaze staring at your husband you act oblivious purposefully. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you find that shocking. You're surprised that it hasn't failed yet. Hope is the only instrument fueling it.

Silence.

Levi is no longer present, in his absence you are face to face with a rock hard glare, the fire in his eyes is also felt by you. The man who almost murdered you in cold blood months prior shows no signs of changing his previous choice, this whole situation is damp. If this were a movie this would be your last scene.

His fury is wordless but it vibrates and makes its presence known. There's a vortex of resentment brewing inside of his chest.

Everything is a blur, breaking down you hear nothing from Levi. You don't feel his warm palms at your cheeks, or his thumb swiping your tears away, this isn't one of your nightmares.

He's disgusted even touching the surface of your skin, it scalds him having to touch someone as morally impure as yourself. Releasing the hold he has on your wrist he tosses your arm away forcibly.

"Refer to me with that name once more and I'll see to it that your neck is snapped in two. Fucking Brat." His voice curls into a low hiss.

#levi ackerman #levi #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi fluff #levi angst #levi smut #duke levi #leviiattacks #levi fanfiction

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cevansfics · 4 years

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Broken Glass part 1

Part 2

Paring: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You and Chris broke up recently, you try to covince yourself and your friends you're fine, but how do you really feel when you see him at a party unexpectedly?

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption

A/N: let me know what you think :), thinking about doing a part 2 also of you want to be tagged let me know :)

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Waking up to the sun beaming through the little gap in the curtains, you roll over to see the time. Already mid day. Stretching to try and wake yourself up, looking over to the side of the bed he used to occupy. It's been four month of waking up alone. You thought you would be used to it by now. Your mind drifts to some of those mornings, the surprises when you would make breakfast in bed, ones where you would wake up to him staring at you, first thing you hear is him telling you how beautiful you look. Or the cold mornings when the night before you fell asleep wrapped and tangled with each other only to wake the same way. God did you miss those days.

A banging on your door pulled you from your thoughts. Rushing to look presentable, you open it to see your two best friends smiling before pushing you out of the way to enter your apartment.

“Please, do come in,” you say after the fact sarcastically.

Claire rushed off towards your bathroom, quickly saying hi. “She's been moaning about needing to pee for about an hour, but you know what she’s like, won't use public restrooms.” Nina rolls her eyes explaining, before gesturing to what’s you are wearing, “Late start to the day?”

“Yeah, I slept in sue me.”

“So,” Claire made you jump reentering the room clapping her hands. “What’s the plan for this evening?”

“I haven’t asked her yet.” Nine explained, taking a sip from her drink you’d just given her

“Plans?” You asked cautiously, nothing ever good came from Claire’s ‘plans’

“Us three, tonight, party time.” She exclaimed excitedly

“I don’t really feel like going to a club.”

“Not a club. A friend of a friend got this big penthouse and is throwing a party.”

“A friend of a friend?” Eyeing her, that usually meant a friend of a guy she was sleeping with, but she just shrugged.

“Come on Y/N, you need to get back out there. Conquer the world,” Nina added.

“That’s the last thing I need. I love you guys but you know I’m not ready for that.” You’d lost count how many times you had this conversation with these two. You know they have your best interests at heart but you don't feel ready. Truth is you’re still not over him.

God. Even after all this time you still can't bring yourself to even say his name, but more times a day than you’d care to admit your mind wanders off, thinking of him. His smile, the way he looked at you when you were rambling on about something you were passionate about. The date nights. The nights out with friends. Him holding you close letting everyone know you were with him. When he would get a little tipsy and become even more handsy, even more so once you were alone. Holding you so close all you could feel was the warmth radiating off his body. The way his lips would trace along your….

“Y/N!” Nina was waving her hand in front of your face. “You zone out, where were you?”

“I-I was just thinking.” You feel the heat rush to your cheek, clearing your throat to shake off those thoughts.

Claire was rooting through your fridge looking for something to drink. “Let's make a promise to make tonight about us then, go to the party, drink a few and just have a good time just us girls. You know we haven’t done that in the longest time.” You have to admit she did make a good point. You’d all been working so much and haven’t seen each other as much as you use too. If tonight was just about you three having a good time and them not trying to hook you up with someone, maybe you could cope.

“Okay, I’m in.” They both jumped up and down like excited like school children.

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The rest of the afternoon was a blur. Claire had another great idea that they get ready for the night and come back to yours as your apartment was closest to where you were going. So they left to get clothes and overnight bags with everything they might need. You stayed home showered and quickly had something to eat. Before yo knew it you were in an Uber on your way to the party. Pulling up outside a fancy building already crowded with peoples. You began to wonder just who this ‘friend’ was who was hosting the party.

Swiftly you all made your way through the crowds into the elevator.

“Whos party is this exactly?” You know you asked before but you were more curious now with your surroundings.

“Some guy, Sebastian, I think.” She shrugged, pushing the button for the correct floor and the doors started to close.

Surely it couldn’t be that Sebastian. That’s a common enough name right?

The doors open to a giant room, filled with hundreds of people. Or at least it looked that way. Lights flashing, music thumping in your ears, you could barely hear your own thoughts never mind someone else. You feel a shove at your shoulder, its Claire holding three shots. How did she already have something to drink, you’d only been there about 3 minutes. Regardless you and Nina both took one. Claire held up her drink, it looked like she was making a speech, but you couldn’t hear a thing she was saying. Looking at Nina, she didn’t have a clue either, she just held up her own drink clinking it with Claire’s, so you did the same.

Several shots late, you were starting to feel a little heated and tipsy. Completely throwing caution to the wind all there of you were dancing, laughing and enjoying yourselves. You feel someone tapping you so you turned to see who it was.

It was Sebastian Stan. You hadnt seen him since before you and Chris broke up.

Chris.

Thats the first time you said his name, even if it was just in your head it had you feeling all sorts of things. The alcohol probably didnt help.

Sebastian pulled you into a tight hug. Automatically you hugged him back. Yes he was Chris’s friend but over the course of your relationship you had become friends with him too. Shouting in your ear, still you could barely hear him. He asked if you were okay, and apologised that he hasn't spoken to much since everything had happened.

Pulling away you were afraid to say anything. All sorts of emotions were building up inside of you. Your only response was giving him a thumbs up and a smile you hoped was believable. Must have been convincing enough because you gave you one more quick hug before moving on through the crowd.

Turning back to your friends Claire gives you an apologetic look, she seems to have put two and two together. Quickly glancing round, looking for a bathroom, you see some stairs and take off. Taking the stairs two at a time, heading down the hallway that seems to have less and less people as you walked down it. Finally reaching The bathroom. A rush of emotions hit you, it's like you couldn’t breathe. Pacing around the bathroom you start feeling dizzy, deciding to rest on the edge of the bath, trying to calm yourself down, slowly, taking deep breaths until your breathing is back to normal and the rooms no longer spinning. There’s a harsh knock in the door and someone calling your name. It’s Claire and Nina.

Opening the door you let them enter.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really didn’t realise it was his party.” Claire said quickly.

Taking a deep breath before you start talking, “I know, I know. It's fine really. I don't even know why I freak out so much it’s not even like I saw him. I guess just seeing Seb and knowing they are friends made all those feelings I thought I pushed away come right back up.”

“If you want to leave, we under-”

“No,” you cut her off. “I’m fine like I said I don't even really know what just happened. This night was for us, so let’s just go and enjoy ourselves.”

“Okay” they both say at the same time.

Heading back down stairs you all got another drink and went back to dancing. Hours must have passed, you were still going. You were genuinely enjoying yourself, just dancing with your girls. You saw Seb a couple more times as the night went on but you didn't see anyone else you knew.

Until.

Nina made a signal as though she was going to get another drink and Claire and you both nodded while dancing. Suddenly Claire grabbed your arm, you looked at her to see what was going on but she wasn’t looking at you, she was looking over your shoulder into the crowd of people. Following her eyeline to see what’s happening you see a group of men all laughing and shouting. The group parted and you saw him.

Chris.

The room seemed to go silent. There he was. Not quite right in front of you, but the other side of the room. Which quickly felt a lot smaller than it actually was. Everything was happening in slow motion. He just stood there, laughing and joking with his friends holding a beer, typical, god did he look good. You felt like you were staring at him an awfully long time but you didn’t care. Then he noticed you, but you still couldn’t look away. Now you were just two people in a crowded room starting at each other. From an outsider's perspective it probably looked a little weird. Then he did something, something you thought if you saw in person again it would break you. He smiled at you.

Do something, you kept repeating in your head over and over again.

Move. Smile. Look away. Anything, just stop staring.

You managed a little wave of your hand causing his smile to grow. He got pulled back into his conversation with his friends. That’s when everything came rushing back into focus. The room you were in, the people, the flashing lights, the thumping music. You wanted to leave, you needed to get out but you couldn’t move. Turning towards Claire, you grab her arm to keep you balanced before she pulls you in for a hug.

Tags:

@chris-butt

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #my writing

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tortured-swiftie · 4 years

Text

@revouries sorry it took so long but here is my full list of song recs! Ps - it is loooooong

So I’m still very surprised anyone is even interested in this but its a really cool thing to share! This playlist has taken me close to a decade to create and I’ve been asked to share it with you all! Fair warning - heavy spoilers, and a lot is based on ship angst, don’t come for me. Also I have only read TDA twice and its been maybe a year since I did so I don’t remember everything perfectly. I had a lot more time with TMI because I read them for years and years. TID & TLH don’t really have soundtracks for me, because of the time period these modern songs really feel wrong when I read those series.

TMI :

Battle in Hotel Dumort in CoB -

- I’m So Sorry - Imagine Dragons

The pace of this song, the sinister notes, the danger it invokes just brings this scene alive. But also, this is the first time Clary feels like a Shadowhunter. She fights and its not terrible. She feels powerful instead of like a liability. Shes able to hold her own while talking to a clan of vampires. Its badass and fits the song.

Seelie Court kiss scene in CoA -

- The Violet Hour - The Civil Wars

Its such a beautifully haunting song, its sweet on the one hand but something wrong lies underneath it. It is so so perfect, because Clace is getting what they’ve wanted, but by hurting those around them. They get to give in for once, without the guilt attached, they have someone to blame for all this. But it ends on this very uneasy note, because it isnt right. So much of it is not right and Clace are not satisfied because it wasn’t a real kiss or real declaration of love

Jace and Clary after the meeting with the Seelie Queen in the Institute in CoA -

- Black Flies - Ben Howard

This is a very Jace song for me. Its quiet, peaceful, but the words are hurtful and honest. “No man is an island” fits him so perfectly at this time in his life where he feels abandoned by Valentine, abandoned by Mayrse, abandoned by literally everyone so he wants to make it worse by committing to Clary. She is so unsure of him because of the repercussions it would cause and he wants her in this moment because of the repercussions. He wants to isolate himself so he cant be hurt by those he loves.

Jace meets Valentine on the boat CoA -

- Silence Worth Breaking - Brooke Annibale

This is where Valentine really shows off how manipulative he is, and as a reader you start to believe how easy it would be to get around to his way of thinking. imo this is the best villain CC has written, because you find yourself agreeing with him sometimes and he makes it difficult to argue from a different perspective. The first time I read this scene I was convinced he was going to go with Valentine. The song is foreboding, it is anxious, and makes you think something bad is around the corner, which at this point in the book you feel like something bad is bound to happen

Simon is about to die on the back of Luke’s truck end of CoA-

- Wait - M83

This just perfectly conveys the grief and fear and guilt Clary feels when she thinks Simon is about to die. She brought him into this life, he turned into a vampire because of her, he was tortured by Valentine because of her and just as they saved him he is going to die. Its the loss of innocence and childhood for Clary. Simon is the last piece of it stripped away from her. First her mum, then her belief system in her whole world, then Luke, and now Simon. She is stripped all the way down to the bone of her identity and this scene is quick, but intense for this reason for me.

Clary and Jace meet up for lunch at the end of CoA -

- Distance - Christina Perri

This is such a sad song, and the sweetness of Christina Perri’s voice pairs beautifully in this scene with a feeling of a bittersweet kind of resigned acceptance. Clary had wanted so bad for Jace to let her go, she had convinced herself that her feelings weren’t that strong. And now here she is accepting her true feelings and ready to kind of wrap Jace around herself like a security blanket and he tells her exactly what she wanted to hear earlier. Except now she has to be a big girl and face her life without anyone holding her hand. She has to grow up and thats what makes this scene so sad, this is Clary realising its time to grow up.

Clary and Jace find Ithuriel in CoG -

- Goodbye Godric - Nathan Barr

This song was always ethereal and otherworldly, the notes are awe inspiring and convey this grief that is so abstract and not individualistic, it is beyond the human experience. Clary and Jace’s complete altruism and empathy in this scene matches with the grieving tones, how helpless they feel at this beautiful creatures pain, and how much they want to do something but they don’t know what. Then Ithuriel shows them visions and its even worse than they imagined. The misery that exists in these walls caused by Valentine, the waste of energy and life and soul is amplified by the music. The music soars as Ithuriel is set free, and the manor home crumbles.

Clary and Jace make out session outside the newly ruined Wayland Manor CoG -

- Maybe Tomorrow - Stereophonics

This wild abandon kissing perfectly matches the mood and pace of this song. Its all over the place, its messy, its confusing. Its giving into pure passion. Its abandoning any pretences they have built up and watching reality crash back down on them.

Isabelle wants Simon to distract her after Max dies in CoG -

- Not Everything Was Better In The Past - Fink

This is such a tenderly played song, and is easy on the ears, but there is a rawness there. Isabelle is completely stripped away, raw grief and anger and guilt eating away at her. When she lets Simon in she is ferocious and wants to show him her toughness. But Simon sees through it all to a scared young girl who is lost in this sea of grief. Its a sweet Sizzy moment

Jace telling Clary he loves her for the first time in CoG -

- Leave a Light On (ACOUSTIC) - Tom Walker

Jace shouldering the responsibility of finding Valentine by himself, essentially sacrificing himself to the cause, hes grief stricken, and yet feels barred from that grief. I know we experienced this scene from Clary’s POV but this song works so well from his POV. He wants to tell the girl he loves how he feels, he wants one night with her to feel normal and feel loved, and to pretend just for a little while that there is nothing wrong with that. This very stripped version of the song is much much much more raw, and that’s what Jace feels like in this scene, all the walls are down and he wants to show his real face to this one girl

Clary showing off her rune skills in the council chamber in CoG -

- I Found - Amber Run

This was the first scene I imagined from a filmmaking perspective, how to best present this scene. I imagined this entire scene from Jocelyn’s POV, frame by frame, as she walks into the council room very quietly and watches her baby walk up and address everyone in desperation, voice shaking but standing her ground. Grown, bigoted, adults judging her and are fearful but she is still showing them what she’s worth. I imagined Jocelyn’s entire world view shifting because she is in awe of this powerful girl Clary has become. She watches her daughter no longer as a little girl but as a formidable Shadowhunter that could handle the cards she had been dealt in life. Just a very transformative moment and pivotal in how we see Clary in the TSC universe

Lilith takes over Jace’s mind and disappears with Sebastian at the end of CoFA-

- I’ll Keep Coming - Low Roar

This song starts out so uneasy, it cant settle down, and that’s exactly how I feel when Jace sends Clary downstairs. I want to scream at her to stay, but knowing Lilith would always take over no matter what. Its a very dark moment, because no one wants to lose control of themselves and it must have been pretty scary at first. Its an anxious scene, paired with an anxious song

Magnus takes happy memories away in CoLS -

- Howl - Jake Houlsby

Magnus is looking very sad when he does this, especially what he says to Simon. Its such a knowing look, Magnus is no stranger to this kind of sorrow, but still to be witness to it over and over must take its toll. It just makes me think of the endless road stretching out ahead of him and how lonely and terrifying that must feel for him. Just a beautiful song to go with a sad moment in this scene

Clary at the Faerie club with Jace and Sebastian CoLS -

- Faded - Alan Walker

- Darkside - Alan Walker

At this point in the story you feel a lot like Clary is getting too comfortable and is maybe losing sight of the mission she’s on. These two songs are very club sounding to me, and tonally fits the mood of the chapter. Clary is quite literally lost in that moment with the Faerie drugs and the dancing and the atmosphere

Clary dancing with Sebastian CoLS -

- Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood

First of all lyrically….it cannot get more perfect. “Go ahead and cry little girl nobody does it like you do, I know that you got daddy issues. And if you were my little girl, Id do whatever I could do…” it just conveys the creepiness of Sebastians interactions with Clary and how weird she felt when he was dancing with her and how wrong it felt. This is a very short moment in this chapter but it really creeped me out. And this song conveys perfectly this feeling of haziness of the Faerie drugs and this uneasiness that surrounds Sebastian

Simon drinks from Isabelle CoLS -

- Harvest Love - Tash Sultana

This is a pretty soulful, sensual song. And when Simon drinks from Isabelle and he describes the euphoria that comes with that, the description of how his nerves react to the fresh blood just remind me of the part in this song where the drums and music soars the highest (start around 3:32, and it reaches its peak around 4:48) its honestly one of the sexiest scenes CC has written, even including all the Jemma scenes

Magnus and Alec break up in CoLS -

- Evergreen - Ben Howard

First time reading this I was so so angry at Alec, and felt the sorrow and anger coming off Magnus. This song is very dark, and very sinister. Magnus completely misunderstood what Alec was trying to do, and applied the most sinister meaning to his actions. It is their perfect breakup song imo full of angst

Clary traps the Heavenly Fire into her sword in CoHF -

- Outro - M83

This is another scene I imagined cinematically. The first half of the song is where Clary slowly makes her way over to Jace and she suddenly has faith in herself that she can do this. Then we watch her take Jace’s hands as the radioactive wind sounds start and the flames are swirling around them but not touching them. Cut to Magnus and Luke seeing the colour on the horizon, and the flash that shows its over. Cut back to Clary drawing the Heavenly Fire into the sword as the music swells around her. The words are so so powerful, and they always felt very ethereal to me “I’m the King of my own land” This is Clary fully embracing her power and fully utilising it. Its no longer something separate from her, but she IS her power.

Clary killing Sebastian, pretty much a lot of the scenes before the time jump CoHF-

- Saturn (both acoustic and original version) - Sleeping At Last

This song is definitely an end of film/book / end of heroes journey material. Simon sacrificing himself so they can get back, Clary killing Sebastian and forgiving him, Clary scattering the ashes of Sebastian and finally grieving the past years trauma (all of the TMI journey), the Faeries being condemned by the Clave and Helen getting exiled. Its beautiful, its sad, its momentous, its not a regular song.

Alec finds Magnus in Edom in CoHF -

- I Of The Storm - Of Monsters and Men

The steady drum beat adds a sense of steadiness and calmness in this song. Its not a joyful getting back together but they’re both glad the other is alive and are both forgiving each other. For me, this is when I truly started shipping Malec. The growth, the strength of character begins from this moment. This is when they become a couple I love because this is when they commit to each other flaws and all

Isabelle introduces herself to Simon at the end of CoHF -

- Golden Dandelions - Barns Courtney

Isabelle has always felt like a full punch character, no half measures and all that. The feeling Simon describes when he first spots this beautiful girl walking directly up to him is how this song starts, for me at least. The drums, the barely contained excitement, the curiosity, and faint recognition. This song is a full punch song right from the get go and it felt like such a remarkable Isabelle moment

After Jocelyn & Luke’s wedding in COHF -

- From Gold - Novo Amor

It is such a bittersweet, and peaceful song. There are so many endings in this scene, and so many new beginnings. They are all grieving, one way or another, and are all allowing themselves to evolve. Their journey is over, and at the end of this book I had this sense of saying goodbye to these characters (retiring them so to speak) because I wasn’t sure how much they would be involved with the future of the TSC world. Im glad they are still a big part of it, but they will never be the main focus again.

TDA:

Julian and Emma dance in LM -

- Give Me Love - Ed Sheeran

The sexual tension, and the dread they both feel because of their feelings just makes this scene so dramatic to me, and this song softens it a little. Especially if you are re-reading the series you feel this tenderness because they so badly wanted to avoid falling in love

Mark and Kieran in the Hunt -

- Dance Me To The End of Love - The Civil Wars

This is a pretty offbeat quirky song, a little sad, a little wistful, a little mournful, sensual, but tones of wildly abandoning all you know and giving into baser desires. Whenever Mark thinks of his time with Kieran in the Hunt, his memories sound like this song. They experienced very high highs, and very low lows. They were degraded, the lowest you could possibly feel as a living creature. Yet they were riding into the night, sleeping under the stars in places only known to Faeries. There was no one watching them, and no one to stop them from being together. There is tenderness in their relationship, but also knowledge that they are only together because they have no one else. Its happiness without truly feeling like you have a choice about it. You have to be happy together because you cant find this happiness elsewhere. They are forced into being in love a little bit, because the alternative is so much worse. This is one of the reasons why I couldn’t ship them at first, because they hadnt really chosen each other. Only when they were presented with other options and they till chose each other did I start seeing their potential.

Julian and Emma on the beach LM -

- Next To You - Of Rust & Bone

This scene completely took me by surprise, and is very unlike CC because love scenes normally take place quite late into any series she has. This one was filled with anxiety, and tension because the characters quite literally fell into their feelings. There was no forethought, no sense of taking stock of what they were doing. And they ended up feeling such different things about it afterwards. So for me this songs darker moods perfectly pairs with this scene

Kieran and Mark argue/break up LM & LoS -

- Fade Away - Tom Walker

This song has such raw power, such dark emotion and anger and a sense of betrayal that it perfectly captures their emotionally charged scenes. Mark can never be the same Mark that belonged to Kieran when he had no one, because now he has his family. And Kieran is still the same man who has no one but Mark. I hated him the first time I read LM and most of LoS but their chemistry is hard to resist. Especially as they evolve as characters as well as a couple. They are wild and unmoored sometimes and there’s something exciting about characters you just cant pin down.

Emma & Jules’ strained relationship LM & LoS -

- 9 Crimes - Damian Rice

When Emma is “with” Mark there is this strange chemistry between her and Julian. Both have hurt each other at different times, but this was really like a stalemate. Neither could really move on, and both were angry at eachother. As more and more people found out/realised about the feelings they had were more than parabatai this tension grew. Because they’re not just falling in love, they are also actively choosing to hurt one another. They are certainly not an example of a healthy relationship but I felt in some way they were the realest. Because sometimes relationships hurt and sometimes you do things you have to do even if that isnt what’s best for your relationship. This song perfectly captures this push and pull they have, and how falling in love wasn’t blissful happiness for them. It was pain and secrets and hurting.

Annabel rising, killing Malcolm LoS -

- As It Was - Hozier

Since we’re watching this scene from above, a very unnatural and cinematic perspective, the scene feels unreal. Like it was a dream and didn’t happen. I felt genuine fear and uneasiness when Annabel is slowly brought back to life, skin growing over old bones. This song has notes that aren’t usually arranged together, instruments that are usually a bigger part of a quartet, and somehow that arrangement feels just a little wrong. It feels different, sinister, and uneasy. It feels like its missing several instruments, or some notes have been played incorrectly. Hozier’s voice is his best in this song, very strained, but so controlled, bringing forth very intense emotions

Christina and Mark at the revel LoS (I couldn’t remember if this was in LoS or QOAAD) -

- Now You’re Gone - Tom Walker & Zara Larsson

Christina really let herself go during this scene, and we see a completely different side to her. She is adventurous, risky, and she would make anyone say “fuck it lets do this” I always liked Christina but I always felt she was very predictable until this point. We see how intensely she is interested in Faeries, and how personally invested she is in their culture. She allows herself to be swept up, and embraces it rather than fears it. She honestly seems fearless here, and is the definition of temptation. She is quite literally tempting Mark, and its sexy a f

Jules & Emma burn down the church LoS -

- Esmeralda - Ben Howard

This was the first time their relationship excited me, because during this scene I fully expected they would go into full thirst mode but they didn’t. They were still very sensual and sexual and intense, but in a very very different way. There is something attractive about someone who’s willing to burn the world down, who has a little bit of an anarchist side. Its human nature to feel some attraction to these traits, and this scene definitely stirred feelings in me

Emma fights Fal LoS -

- Put It On Me - Matt Maeson

This song both tonally and in its pacing elevates this scene to new levels. Its not a typical battle song, it has a steady pace. But Emma’s description of how the battle is stripped down because of the rain, how she prefers this kind of fight where its her, her weapon and the elements. Its pure, and we get to see Emma in full fighter mode. She is an extension of Cortana, and they belong together. This is without a doubt my favourite fight scene to date. It just brings alive the visuals in such a dynamic way. Very storyboard-able.

Julian holding Livvy as she dies LoS -

- Losing Your Memory - Ryan Star

This song is harrowing, and its just pure pain, raw grief balled into one intense song. The lyrics just pull you into Julian’s mental state “wake up, its time, little girl, wake up” just kills me. As the music intensifies and the singer is practically screaming the lyrics it just feels like that’s what it must have been like inside of Julian’s mind. He wasn’t screaming out loud but his mind must have been very loud

Julian and Emma shower together QOAAD -

- Promise - Ben Howard

Julian dry heaving because he doesnt know how to cry. Fucking heartbreaking in a very quiet way. After the noise of loss, the quiet moments where you have to face grief is devastating. Emma being an anchor, holding him in place and trying to keep the world away from him so he doesnt hurt anymore is just harrowing. They’re just kids but the grief they feel is so adult. And when you lose someone like that, and someone is there for you that solidifies so much in that relationship. They become a part of something you can never let go of. Even if that relationship doesnt last, they will always be apart of that memory. And Emma sticking by him, despite the danger and promises they have made themselves is proof that she is the one for him

Kieran and Christina dance QOAAD -

- Senorita - Shawn Mendes & Camilla Cabello

This song is sensual, its sexual, its got hooks that quite literally sound like orgasms its such a playful song. When I read this scene this song popped in my head right away. When Christina is dancing with Mark its the same kind of feeling I got from her at the revel, except this time there is no supernatural influence, its just her and her feelings. It was a sexy scene, and when Kieran walks in we all expected something very different. What followed is what elevates this scene, Christina has no clue how to react to Kieran, and yet she is mesmerised by him. She dances with him in a way we would never have imagined her doing this in LM. It shows evolution of character, for all three of them. And the fact that Mark is watching, and he’s not angry just makes this scene even sexier. You can practically feel the sexual tension in the air coming off the pages of the book.

Malec wedding QOAAD -

- That Girl Is You - Dave Matthews Band

This song brings me so much peace, the kind of peace that comes with knowing someone for years, and relying on them, knowing they are a permanent fixture in your life. Its exciting, but in a quiet way. Its a very atypical wedding song, because of the unusual style of singing. But I think it represents Malec really well at this point in their journey, they have gotten over many obstacles, often themselves, in this relationship. Their entire world is changing, and they are taking massive steps and making some pretty big sacrifices as people for this cause. Being Consul isnt going to be a smooth life for Alec with Magnus as a husband and a warlock for a child. But this is what he wants, and this is what he wants Shadowhunters to reflect and be going forward. This song is a very peaceful time in the entirety of TSC, and gave me a similar feeling to the end of TMI

#tsc #song recs #tmi #the mortal instruments #tda #the dark artifices #cc #cassie clare #cassandra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles

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kellyashcroft · 4 years

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It’s You C.7 - Why Does It Hurt?

Summary: I’m Embry and I don’t think much of this whole soulmate business. What are the chances that in a sea of 7 billion people you’ll just find your soulmate? What’s the point in wasting your time with relationships with people that aren’t your soulmate? On the off chance that one or both of you do meet the one you’re destined for, it’s just gonna cause unnecessary pain but what’s the alternative? Stay alone forever waiting for someone that might never show up? I’m 26 and I still don’t have my mark and I’m tired of waiting.

Word Count: 3900

Warnings: Angst, mentions of parental death, mentions of physical pain, mentions of torture, fluff

A/N: Sorry it’s late, it’s been a busy week! This is the longest chapter yet, I’ve combined two chapters because the next one was really short but the next update will still be on Monday. Please let me know what you think and I will list the masterlink below for you! Thank you fpr reading, I hope you enjoy it!

Series Masterlink

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Will wakes up not much longer after me and as I keep my eyes on the television, I feel his head shift down to look at me.

"Sorry, I fell asleep" he mumbles and I move my head to meet his eyes, still being held in his arms.

"It's okay, so did I, I've only been awake maybe, ten minutes, I didn't want to wake you"

"I should go" he says as he moves to get up off the couch. He plants his feet on the ground as he stands up and brushes his hand through his hair as I turn my body to sit upright on the couch, wishing it was still two minutes ago rather than this awkward, weirdness. “I don’t mean, I don’t want to- - I mean” he stutters as he scratches the back of his neck and I squint my eyes at him, “it’s late and I can’t stay the night, I’ve got no clean clothes here or anything”

"No, I get it" I answer quickly, realising that I did actually want him to stay and a silence falls over the two of us again as we both look anywhere but at each other.

"I'll just, get" he points behind his head, "get my coat then" he says quietly as I look back at him as his voice grabs my attention.

"Okay, I'll walk you out" I say back as I get up and walk him towards the front door.

He hesitates just outside the door frame as he turns back to me and I lean slightly on the door.

"Embry" he starts, "do you? I mean, um, I" his nervous energy makes me stand up straighter, my heart racing in my chest. He lets out a breathy chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck with his hand again; I guess he does that a lot when he's nervous. "I had a really nice time tonight, thank you" he smiles up at me once he's decided on his words.

"I had a really nice time too, we should do it again sometime" his smile only grows wider at my words and a second later he leans in and places a quick, unsure kiss on my cheek and I feel my face blush.

"See you tomorrow" he says quickly as he turns to go to his car, looking back towards me as he gets into the driver’s seat and I offer a small wave and then he's gone.

I go back into my house, making sure to lock the door and find my phone, already having received a text from Will.

⁃ I really had an amazing time with you. Sorry I fell asleep. I really hope we can do it again, maybe next time I can cook for you? Good night, Em.

I can't help but smile and notice the nickname he's given me and I realise no one else has ever shortened my name. It seems weird to think about because it seems so obvious, but no one ever has and I like the thought that maybe he will be the only one to ever call me it. I quickly text back.

⁃ I had a great time too. It's okay, you look cute when you sleep. I'd love that. Goodnight.

I walk up the stairs into my bedroom, put on my favourite pyjamas again, now that they're washed, and slip into bed, hoping for a peaceful night’s sleep, but that's not what I get.

"You really just can't stay out of the way can you?" I hear a woman's voice say in an angry tone as I feel something being dragged from my face and I take a deep breath. "Always in the way!"

The woman grabs my left arm and picks up a metal device as she places it over the mark on my wrist and I let out a scream in pain.

"It'll stop hurting soon, we've done this before, stop fidgeting" she scolds and my blood turns cold at the pain and fear I'm feeling.

"What did you do with him?" I whisper through the pain. "Where is he?"

"Oh he's fine, don't worry, you won't remember him soon enough anyway" she says. What does she mean, I won't remember him?

The woman keeps the device pressed against my skin for what feels like forever and the pain increases and decreases in intensity over time. I hear my own screams and whimpers and I try to fight her off as she has more straps added to restrain me.

Eventually she stops and the pain subsides a little as she removes the device. I manage a glance down at my mark through my hooded and watery eyes, exhausted from the torture I've just endured and notice that the mark on my wrist is lighter, less prominent.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

I jolt awake, yet again, to the sound of my alarm blaring and slowly I reach over to hit the snooze button, hoping for just five more minutes; enough time to collect my thoughts, before I get up out of bed, and start my usual routine of brushing my teeth, washing my body, putting on make up and getting dressed.

I decide again to drive to work today, feeling too tired to walk, as much as I miss my near the beach walks home and as I stop at some traffic lights I remember being here and my wrist hurting. I realise it was him I saw, Will. He was the guy walking across the street. I remember the same dark brown hair, the same smile, the dimple. He was the guy who's hand I shook and felt the same pain again. But the mark isn't supposed to hurt. I've never heard anyone ever say it hurt them to get their mark, so why did mine hurt?

I'm pulled from my thoughts yet again as the lights change and I continue my drive to work but I can't seem to shake the feeling that something's wrong. Surely there must be a reason that ours was so different? I make a mental note to go to Clive's after work and ask him if he knows anything about it. He knows an awful lot more about them than me, he practically wrote a thesis on them at one point, maybe he can help.

As I pull into the car park at the school, I see Will walking across a few metres from me and he raises his hand in a wave as he catches my eye and I think about how used I'm getting to seeing my mark on his wrist, and his on mine.

"Hey" he says as our paths cross near the doors of the school and we smile at each other.

"Hey, you okay?" I start as he shakes a plastic cup at me containing my favourite mocha, passing one to me and keeping one for himself. “Thank you”

"No problem.” He pauses as he smiles at me. After a few seconds he shakes his head as he looks down to the floor and continues, “Yeah, didn't sleep the best though, you?"

"Me either actually, I had the weirdest dream" as I'm about to start to tell him about it, the bell rings for the first class of the day and I feel like I've lost time, not a lot, only about ten minutes or so, but like as if somehow, the day is passing by earlier than it should. I was sure we had longer to talk.

"So today, class, we're gonna have a study session, so if everyone could take their notepads and textbooks out, I want you to all read through your evolutionary perspectives of eating behaviour essays and write notes on your essay. Try and shorten it into key points and then that into bullet points until you'll be able to know your paragraph from a few key words. If you need any help, just ask, otherwise, you can work in small groups" I finish as a few tables scrape across the floor, kids moving closer to their friends as a quiet muttering overtakes the room and I sit in my chair behind the desk.

My mind falls back to the dream I had last night and I can't help but feel like there's more to it, like it's not just a dream and like I'm missing some of the information. I start to look at my mark and notice that it's full in colour, unlike my dream, but as I stare at it, it starts to itch again and I get a sharp pain in my head as a flood of words enter my brain. They're all fumbling over each other too fast for me to hear most of them, the only ones I make out don't make any sense to me and I hold the side of my head as I scrunch my eyes, opening my mouth in a silent scream and hope the pain will subside quickly.

"Embry?" I hear and just as quickly the pain started, it goes and I look up to find Will, his hands on my forearms, his body twisted as he tells the class to pack up their stuff and that they're dismissed for the day. As the class empties he turns back to me with concern in his eyes, "are you okay? I walked past and you looked like you were in agony. What happened?"

"I, I don't know, my head just started hurting. I couldn't make much of it out"

"Make what out?"

"The words" I answer, "my head was flooded with words, I could only make a little bit out through the jumble: lost, taken, soulmate and you, but it doesn't make any sense, I don't know what happened". He sighed in response as he moved one of his hands behind my head and pulled me into his chest and held me.

We stay like that for what feels like forever, one hand never moving from the back of my head while the other dances up and down my back, trailing small shapes over my green dress.

After a couple of minutes he pulls back from me and wipes the remaining tears that have fell from my eyes off my face. “I’m gonna go and get you some water okay? Don’t go anywhere”

I nod as he hesitantly stands up and leaves the room, coming back only a minute later with a bottle of water. “I haven’t drank any of it, you need to have a drink okay? It’ll make you feel a bit better”. He says as he crouches down in front of me again, one hand finding its way back to resting on my forearm.

“Thank you” I whisper as I take a big gulp of water and he continues to look at me with worry in his eyes. “I’ll be okay, I just haven’t been sleeping very well” I say through a still croaky voice and he gives me a small smile in response.

“Just, relax for a little bit” he advises as he moves in slightly closer to me, “you’ve got like twenty minutes until the next class, will you be okay?”

“I’m good, honestly” I answer too fast, “you can go, but thank you”.

We share a tentative smile as he stands up and leaves the room, and again, I’m not unaware of his eyes lingering on me as he does so.

I spend the next twenty minutes trying to breathe through the almost crippling anxiety I keep feeling, devising it’s probably better to just leave the remnants of my coffee rather than adding more caffeine to this situation. I find a small post it note and write down the words I felt drum around in my brain and stare at them, holding for an explanation to drop from the sky when the bell rings again. Too quickly my students pile into the classroom and still not feeling great, I inform them they will be doing the same study exercise as my previous class as I sit back in my chair, tapping my pen against the desk trying to figure out what this could mean.

Not much longer passes before lunch has come around and before I can even move from behind my desk, Will is at the door waiting for me.

“I was wondering if maybe you’d want to sit with me at lunch today?” I hear him say.

“We sit together every day?” I question with a squint of my eyes.

“I guess that’s true” he laughs, “I mean, just me” he says as he slowly moves into the room as I walk around my desk.

“Are you asking me on a date to the cafeteria William?” I smile as he blushes slightly.

“No, not a date, I promise” he laughs as he looks back up to me and wipes his hand over his chin. “Just, I’d really like to have a meal with just you again.”

“I’d love to”.

Walking down the corridor to the cafeteria, I feel his eyes on me every few seconds and the questions he wants to ask are almost hanging in the air in front of us like a fog.

“I’m okay” I say as I turn to face him, nodding my head, trying to convince us both.

“I know” he says too quickly, “I just want you to know that if you’re not, if you need help, me to cover your class, if you need anything, I can feel the anxiety coming off you” his words make me turn my head to look at the floor as I feel him stop next to me and take hold of my wrist, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly against the mark that lives there, “that’s okay too. I’m here”. His final words have me lifting my head to look at him again, a small smile finding its way into my face as he slips his hand down to hold mine and intertwines our fingers. As I nod my head, he gives my hand a small squeeze before releasing it as we start up our walk to the cafeteria again.

Sitting down at a table on the far side of the room, we both dig into our meals, mine being chicken pasta and Will’s being bolognese, as we discuss his classes that day. Nothing major happened, like for example, he didn’t freak out all of his students by having an agonising pain in his head and had to have them excused by another staff member, but he did teach one of his classes about an obscure battle that I had never heard of. As the conversation about our classes dwindles down, we both turn to continue our lunches, comfortable in each other’s presence and my anxiety is easing from just being around him.

“I know you might not want to talk about it but, I meant it, anything you need, ever” he says with a level of sincerity I’m not sure I’ve ever heard before and I know he’s not just talking about today, he really does mean anything and with what time is coming up, I can’t even begin to express how much that means to me. “Chloe mentioned something this morning about this being a tough time of year for you?” He asks innocently and I can’t work out if I’m mad or grateful that my friend started this conversation for me.

“I don’t really talk about it at work but yeah, um, it’s coming up to the anniversary, of um, my parents death” I almost whisper, being brave enough to continue looking at Will.

“I’m so sorry” he says quickly, “she didn’t say that- -, you don’t have to-“

“It’s okay, I don’t mind, but like I said I just don’t talk about it at work, sometimes I’m okay but sometimes I cry and I don’t want to cry at work”

“I get it, so do you like baseball?” He changes the subject quickly and I can’t help but laugh.

The rest of the day goes by without a problem, each class going over the same study exercise based on what topic they’re focusing on currently and I spend my time catching up on grading essays.

As soon as the final bell rings, I practically run from the school needing to see Clive as soon as possible. As much as sitting with Will at lunch may have eased my anxiety for that time, it came back in floods throughout the second half of the day.

I walk into Clive's book store, hearing the bell above the door as I open and shut it. I nod in greeting at Clive, still by the counter, where he always seems to be and he nods back.

Knowing that the conversation I want to have with him is probably going to stir up some memories he'd rather forget, I take in a sharp breath as I start to walk over to him and he gives me a quizzical look. He must be wondering why I'm not just walking around the store like I usually do.

"I need to ask you something, and you might not like it, but it's important, I'll explain as best I can but I wouldn't bring it up if it wasn't really important. Not to you" he gives me a knowing look after taking my words in and gives me a small nod, assuring me that I can ask, but not confirming that he will answer, or even have one in the first place. "Okay, have you ever heard of anyone's mark hurting? Like when they get it? Or even after they've got it? Because the first time I saw Will, it was when he was walking across the road and I was driving and I felt this sharp pain in my wrist; I didn't have my mark then of course and I ignored it, but then later it got itchy and I thought I could see something but I was wrong, although now, I'm not so sure. And then, the first time we touched, after we met, we both got a sharp pain, so bad we had to pull our hands away from each other and then mine was itchy later in the day again, I never asked about his" I'm not sure at what point we moved, but as I continue I realise I'm sitting in my usual spot on the couch at the back of the store, Clive opposite me.

"So then, today all of a sudden, it starts to get really itchy again, but like, painful itchy, like I want to scratch through my skin itchy and then I get this splitting pain in my head and I can't see or hear anything apart from these words going round and round in my head, too many to make out except four. Only four make their way through to me" I tell him the four words I'd told Will about earlier in the day as he leans further towards me, intently listening to everything I'm saying, a look of confusion on his face. "So I think they're connected, I mean, the pain, the itch, and the word soulmate came up, that can't be a coincidence right? So, I mean you know more about it than anyone else I know so have you ever heard of this happening? I mean, is it wrong? Is it trying to fight its way off my body because it's a mistake?" I ask, scared of what the answer could be as he stops me.

"I don't think it's that. The marks are never wrong, ever. He's your soulmate, there's no doubt about that but it hurting?" He turns away from me slightly, looking nowhere in particular as he thinks. "The only times I've ever heard of someone's mark hurting is when someone tried to take it off, they physically tried to tear it from their skin, it didn't work of course, the marks are protected, something in them. And when you spend too long away from your soul mate, mine hurts occasionally when I miss Mary, a few other people who've lost their soul mates or have had to be away from them have said the same thing but it's an ache, not a sharp pain".

He looks back at my disheartened face, disappointed at feeling like I still don't really have any sort of answer. "I see him every day, we talk after work until we go to sleep, he's text me goodnight, every night and neither one of us has tried to get rid of the mark" I trail off, defeated.

"Leave it with me, okay? I'll have a look through my stuff, see if there's anything I can find that might explain it and I'll let you know if I find something but just, try not to worry about it too much, okay kid?" He offers me a small smile as he pats my shoulder and I realise that's the first time since Mary died that I've seen any type of real smile on his face.

"Yeah" I surrender, "thanks Clive, it means a lot, thank you" I add sincerely as I get up to leave the store before quickly turning and adding, "oh I almost forgot, Will asked me to ask you if you could order 1984 for him? You know by George Orwell?"

"Sure, I'll get on it straight away, I'll make up an invoice when it comes and keep it back for him or if you pick it up, okay?"

"Thanks Clive, for everything" I say as I leave the store and make it to my car.

On the drive home I decide it's been too long since I've walked near the beach and if there was ever a time I needed to be calmed by the ocean, it's probably now when my mind can't seem to stop spinning. I pull up on my driveway, get out of my car, and walk back towards the beach, deciding I'll spend a couple of hours there and maybe watch the sunset before I walk back home.

Sitting on the beach, this is the calmest I’ve felt since I was laying in Will’s arms. Making that realisation only panics me more, I mean, I’ve only known him a few weeks. How is it that someone I’m still aware I barely know has had such a profound effect on me? I feel like there’s an internal battle inside of me of running away from this and what it means because I can’t help but feel like I’ll be hurt, and another side of me that wants nothing more than to jump in, head first because I know he will never hurt me and I don’t think I’ve ever been so confused in my life.

Trying to shake all thoughts of Will and the dreams and the mark and my feelings about any of it out of my head, I focus on the sounds of the waves crashing in front of me and the feel of the sand against my bare feet, my shoes being placed carefully in front of me. As I dig my feet further into the sand, I wrap my arms around my knees, bending them up to sit in front of my face and I enjoy the beauty the beach offers.

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Taglist: @yourideasarepointless @stiles-o-dylan24 @moongoddesskiana @wydobrien @ashleyjeanthomas

Date posted: 04.08.2020

#its you #kellysashcroft #will x embry #writing #original writing #soulmate.#soulmate au #storytime

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xiueryn · 5 years

Note

4 & 76 :( i accidentally deleted the actual ask

four: “coffee-shop au” seventy-six: “did they or didn’t they?”

“You are the best,” Marinette gushed, clutching the mug to her chest. “Seriously, I cannot tell you enough how much I appreciate you.”

Adrien laughed. “Good morning to you.”

“Morning.” She grinned. “Has it been busy?”

“Not too bad,” he replied, going back to cleaning the side. “I was mostly reading weird shit on my phone while waiting for you.”

When she’d first applied for a job at her nearest coffee-shop, just to get a bit of income between classes, she’d been dreading the worst. And it had been, at times, but being paired with Adrien for her shifts was the best thing to happen.

They clicked well.

It also helped that he liked her enough to make her a drink for when she was set to arrive.

“I watched a film last night,” Marinette started, taking a sip of her drink, trying to see whether it was too warm. “I can’t really remember what it was called, but it was awful. It made me think of you.”

He gasped. “Are you calling me awful?”

“No, no,” she assured him, amused. “I mean, you always watch the bad ones, yeah? I could barely make it through it, but I wanted to give you the plot breakdown so you can pity me.”

And between customers, she did. Adrien laughed at her explanation, asked questions to show that he was actually interested, and Marinette might’ve been a bit too enthusiastic at times, almost knocking things over as she gestured with her hands, trying to make her world-building as precise as possible in their little space between the counter.

As much as a disaster they were together—with too much laughter and smiles, often getting caught up and forgetting to restock goods between customers—they did work well as a pair. Marinette was shy, barely spoke with her other co-workers, but Adrien had a way of making her feel comfortable.

“I see it’s you two again,” a customer mused.

Adrien flashed him a peace sign with his hand.

There was no denying that Adrien was the favourite employee there. While the others, Marinette included, were awkward with the customers, Adrien made conversation with them, even remembering little titbits that had come out from before, and it was very clear that their smiles when talking to him weren’t forced.

And, somehow, that had started to transfer to Marinette, too.

It helped that Adrien dragged her into conversation with him.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Adrien asked her.

She shook her head. “No, this is my last shift. I lucked out.”

“You really did,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s going to be so busy and you won’t even be here!”

Marinette patted his shoulder. “There, there. I could always come in and buy a drink.”

“Yes, add to my workload,” he murmured, pushing her hand aside. “That’s clearly what I wanted.”

It wasn’t a secret that she was his favourite person to work with, and Marinette wasn’t shy about telling him the same in return.

They were close in age, attended the same university, but their paths had never crossed on campus. The only place she actually saw him was at work, when they were both wearing their itchy polo shirts, not actually in anything comfortable.

It was weeks of her building up courage that made her ask, “You could—if you want to, I mean—”

He blinked.

Marinette cleared her throat. “Could I get your number?”

“I—my number?” he stuttered out.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, fiddling with the strings of her apron. “It’ll be—you know, easier to know when we’re working? And if you’d want to chat about other things, or anything at all. I don’t know.”

“Absolutely!” he exclaimed. “That—yes. I’ve been wanting to ask you that for a while, actually.”

She beamed. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “I kept forgetting, that’s all.”

That day led to a lot of things. It turned out that Adrien liked to use a lot of emojis, that he sent random pictures with no context—includingweird photos of his cat—and was just as easy to talk to over text as he was in person.

Marinette started to look forward to when his name popped up on her phone.

That wasn’t a surprise to her friends, though. They’d known that her fondness for him had grown from all the time that she spent with him at work, so when she was found grinning down at her phone, the teasing that followed was probably well deserved.

Marinette wasn’t that embarrassed from being caught.

She wasn’t that good at keeping secrets.

And yet, Adrien didn’t seem to notice that she had a crush on him—or, if he did, he didn’t make it obvious that he knew.

She appreciated that.

Sometimes, when one of her friends came into the store, they liked to gesture to whoever she was working with, whispering loudly whether it was Adrien or not.

That was a bit embarrassing.

But if Adrien did overhear them, he brightly smiled and introduced himself, being more genuine when her friend said that they knew her.

“Still the troublesome duo, eh?” a customer remarked.

Marinette laughed. “Isn’t that a little mean?”

Truly, the difference between working with Adrien and another co-worker was astounding. There were times where she dreaded coming in after classes, already tired and not wanting to do anything, but to see him there cheered her up.

That was even before her crush had appeared.

But since then, it had increased even more.

“I watched that film, finally,” Adrien said when they had a spare few minutes together. “From ages ago? You were completely right about it.”

She beamed. “You liked it?”

“So bad it was good,” he confirmed with a laugh. “I wish I’d watched it sooner.”

“You should always believe me, then.”

“You’re right,” he mused. “I’ll trust anything that’ll come from you in the future.”

She responded, “That’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why, are you going to tell me crazy stories?” he asked. “You barely ever embellish them.”

Marinette questioned, “And how would you know that?”

“Because it’s really obvious when you lie,” he pointed out. “Your voice, like, changes a little bit when you do it?”

The fact that he’d picked up on that from only seeing each other at work made her chest feel warm. “You've—you’ve noticed that?”

“It took a while,” he said, looking to the side before cupping one side of his mouth with his hand. “But now I know you’re lying when you tell someone that’s your favourite drink.”

She tried to look affronted. “Maybe it was my favourite for that moment.”

“I’m sure,” Adrien responded, sounding entirely amused. “But it’s cute.”

“Oh?” Her voice came out more high-pitched than normal. “It is?”

“Well, yeah,” Adrien said, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. “You're—you’re always cute. Not just when you lie, I mean. That would be a bit weird.”

Her smile reached her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed, not breaking eye contact. “You must know that, right?”

The throat that was cleared wasn’t from either of them; rather, it was a customer awkwardly standing at the till, holding a takeaway mug that they wanted to be filled up.

Marinette’s cheeks felt hot when she realised they were a regular.

It was made even worse that the next time the regular came in, it wasn’t when Adrien was by her side.

And yet, they asked her, “Are you two dating now?”

Marinette was too embarrassed to give a straight answer.

And it turned out that they weren’t the only one to question that.

“I got asked if we were dating yesterday,” Adrien announced out of nowhere, right when they were both putting away clean glasses. “I might’ve panicked and said yes.”

She squawked, “Adrien!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, but it didn’t sound sincere at all. “I just—I wasn’t expecting it, you know? And it’s not like it really matters to them in the first place.”

She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I got asked the other day, too.”

“You did?” The best way to describe his tone was amused. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Marinette confirmed, busying herself with putting everything away, just so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “It—I was too surprised to give them a proper answer.”

He questioned, “It wasn’t that old dude that gets soy milk, was it?”

“No,” she said.

“Damn,” Adrien muttered. “That’s who it was for me. That makes it two people, then.”

That just made her wonder whether he really was that oblivious, if other people were asking about their relationship. It was a two-way thing, though—so, maybe, from other people’s perspective, she had a chance with him.

It wasn’t that she didn’t think so; she just didn’t want to risk their friendship, not when they hadn’t actually met up outside of work.

So, it was with kind of clammy hands that Marinette worked up the courage to ask, “Do you—do you want to go to the cinema? With me?”

“With you?” he echoed, looking at her in surprise.

She wetted her lips. “Yes.”

He ended up heating the milk for too long, but managed to stutter out, “I—yes.”

“Yes?” Marinette asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah, totally,” Adrien quickly said, wiping down the splatters of milk he’d gotten onto the counter. “What do you have in mind? Unless you haven’t decided. I’m cool with anything.”

She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “No idea.”

He laughed. “So, just wanted to spend some time with me?”

“Well,” Marinette started, reaching up and tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. “We haven’t really spent time together out of here?”

“True,” he agreed. “I still never see you at university. Are you sure you actually go there?”

With an offedned noise, she assured him, “I do, I swear!”

He hummed. “Not sure I believe you.”

“Clearly, you’re avoiding me,” she shot back.

“I’d never,” he vowed. “You’re too cute for that.”

There it was again.

It wasn’t clear whether he was actually saying it to flirt with her, or if that was how he was with others. There was only two of them at most behind the counter, meaning she didn’t often get to see him interact with other co-workers, and she certainly hadn’t seen him with his friends.

Adrien was a bit of a mystery.

“I’m going to get a big head soon,” she joked. “You’re complimenting me far too much.”

“Or you’re not hearing them enough,” he replied without hesitation. “I’m going to tell you things until you stop being so bashful.”

With a grin, she asked, “Is that a threat?”

His smile reached his eyes. “It could be.”

The next time Marinette was asked if they were dating, Adrien’s reaction was to raise his middle finger up.

But instead of being offended, the customer threw his head back and laughed, clearly amused.

“Asshole,” Adrien muttered.

“But, dude,” the customer—clearly, Adrien’s friend—said, “I’m just trying to help out here.”

Adrien didn’t look thankful in the slightest. “You just want to embarrass me.”

“Me?” His friend placed a hand onto his chest. “I’d never.”

When his friend left, Adrien turned to her and said, “I’m sorry about him.”

She blinked. “But my friends come in all the time?”

The top of his ears were pink. “Yeah, but they don't—they don’t ask stuff like that.”

“They do ask about you, though,” Marinette reluctantly replied. “You have to have noticed that by now.”

“…Yes,” he slowly confirmed. “Why is that?”

She fiddled with her apron. “Because I talk about you a bit?”

It definitely came out sounding like a question.

But instead of being baffled by that, Adrien’s smile looked almost shy. “You do?”

“Well, yeah,” she admitted. “You are my favourite person here, after all.”

His dimples showed as he asked, “Only here?”

“I haven’t seen you outside of here yet,” she pointed out. “You can wait for that after—after our date.”

For a moment, she wondered whether she’d said the wrong thing.

“Oh,” Adrien breathed. “Oh. It is a date, then.”

Her face felt hot. “Did I—”

“I was hoping so, but I wasn’t sure,” he interrupted, rocking on his heels. “I—I didn’t want to assume and be an idiot, but, okay. This is great.”

For a lack of better response, she parroted back, “Great?”

“Really, really great,” Adrien confirmed.

All she could was grin widely.

Adrien smiled right back at her.

Then, a customer made their presence known.

The rest of the day was filled with stolen glances, enough smiles that her cheeks started to hurt after a while, and a giddy feeling that just wouldn’t go away.

He sent her far too many emojis after they parted ways.

pick two prompts from here and i’ll write a small(?) adrien/mari drabble for it

#replies #anonymous #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #drabble

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quagmireisadora · 5 years

Text

[Jonghyun / Taemin] After the Fire

Prompt: A is a struggling writer going through a creative block, until B literally crashes into their life, claiming that they are a modern-day muse. Rating: R-ish(?) Warnings: some explicit descriptions Length: ~10,000

Summary: Drawn to danger, I burned my own house down.

(Written as part of the Winter of SHINee fic fest. Please go support all the entries there)

------

“... we thank you for your manuscript and applaud your efforts in completing another book. Unfortunately, it is not quite in the vein of what we are looking for. Please stay in touch for…”

In Jonghyun’s eyes, there is only one way to construe the letter—your stuff isn't sexy enough.

He knows the standards the publication house upholds. When he’d first applied to write for them, presenting a short story full of elucidated gasps and pants and whatnot: he’d done his research. The other writers and their works are miles apart from what he could ever produce. Those books are too salacious, too irreverent for him to match.

So, he knows there is a yardstick, and that he is required to be faithful to it, if he must help retain their astronomically high readership.

Honestly, though… the only reason Jonghyun writes erotic literature is because it is easy money.

Coming straight out of college, he first tried his hand at working for obscure webzines. That was a very weird, isolating experience. His colleagues were constantly embroiled in intellectual and cultural debates, the likes of which a man of his upbringing could never participate in—the elegance of noir films, the chaos of punk history, the artful French New Wave. Not only did these subjects evolve outside the barriers he grew up between, the webzines’ subscribers were largely foreigners, rendering a monolinguistic man like him… well. Useless.

Following this, he’d done a stint at small, virtually unknown publications. He’d written largely ignored thought pieces for national papers. He’d even submitted the less embarrassing specimens of his attempted poetry to the Metropolitan office of which, none were imprinted on subway doors. Yet.

To the interested employer, his CV reads like a grocery list of jobs: I did everything I possibly could with my mediocre talent, just so I could earn a living. And he doesn't mind that—encourages that thought, in fact. It is Jonghyun's earnest belief that only by downplaying his past professional experiences will he ever get a step ahead, climb a rung higher. It is also Jonghyun's earnest belief that dream jobs do not exist and, in this economy at least, settling is a good idea when you have qualifications as meaningless as his.

So no, he doesn't turn any work down. Nothing is beneath him. And that attitude has led him here—to writing cheap erotica for easy money.

Except, Jonghyun hasn't a single erotic bone in his body.

He is a man, most certainly. Red-blooded as they come. But something about writing down the act, about describing it in the most colourful and drawn-out details... femininity must surely be a prerequisite, he thinks. To notice the way that things look or sound or feel or taste in those short moments. To recreate that passion, that ecstasy, that urgency with paragraph upon paragraph of meticulous and explicit narration: one must need a very observative mind. Or a hyperactive imagination. Because something that lasts just a few minutes from his perspective, can only be recreated with such intensity if it were a woman on the other side of the pen.

So no, Jonghyun doesn't do sexy. Despite having penned three short novels, all with the reluctant perusal of internet porn, he doesn’t do sexy. He doesn’t do softcore, he doesn’t do taboo or wild or… anything, really. He just isn't capable of indelicacy like that. He reasons he can probably try romantic, but that’s not what this specific job entails, does it? No, and the letter is good evidence of that, he realises, stowing his last manuscript away for recycling.

Where sexual depravity is concerned, Jonghyun is running on empty. And if things don't change soon, his bank account will too.

------

His mother doesn't know, of course. She thinks her poor son, her youngest baby, is so deeply mired in the nine-to-five that he doesn't even have time to visit these days. Writing is time-consuming. Writing entire novels, even more so. He doesn’t tell her what his job is, though. He keeps it vague. I’m working at an office. I’m working for a big company. I’m working in a building on Saemunan-ro.

As common a name as Kim Jonghyun is, a pseudonym is useful in many ways, he realises. He doesn’t get strange calls from distant relatives, demanding what the hell does he think he’s doing, while ignoring the fact that they went looking for erotica in the first place. He doesn’t have his young cousins approach him with was that really you, hyung? or can we get an early copy of your next one? His friends and ex-associates don’t have a clue. He would like to keep it that way: Minho already gives him a hard time about growing into an old shut-in, if he had the faintest idea of what was going on behind those closed doors and drawn curtains… Minho would no longer be a friend, Jonghyun wagers with shame.

Even so, the question of inspired writing—if he can call it that—still remains. Rather, the question of how he will pay next month’s rent, how he will settle the stack of overdue power and internet and water bills, still remains. Seoul is an expensive city to live in by oneself, and he cannot move back under the same roof as his mother and sister, not with a scandalous job like this.

At this point he has no way of stimulating his mind without resorting to stealing from other writers.

And so, the idea of a fan-meeting event is a sort of lifeline. He figures it could help if people show appreciation for his work: even if those people are wild-eyed and pimple-faced oily young men who should be ashamed of themselves, his morality yells wordlessly. But he is no one to judge. And if they prove to be a motivation, if they can help him get out of his block, then all the morality in the world can go to hell.

The event isn’t as clandestine as he imagines it to be, either. Outside the venue is a board yelling out a “SHIN YUN BOK PUBLICATION AUTHORS’ CONVENTION”. The doors are wide open. The sound of chatter, the smell of food, the murmur of excitement, all floats out to the lobby just outside.

When he enters, his face obscured by a surgical mask and a large pair of sunglasses, the place is packed. A man is on stage, calling out polite directions for crowd control. Jonghyun recognises him as his employer. Or at least, he is the guy who interviewed him over a grainy skype call late one night. He self-consciously checks his disguise and walks deeper into the fray.

A semi-circle of tables is arranged around the hall, each nominated to a writer. Upon studying the occupied seats, Jonghyun’s premise is solidified when he realises eight out of ten appear to be women. Somehow, this information impresses him.

When he ducks under the ropes and is stopped by a security guard, he points at the only empty table in wordless explanation. Some awkwardness ensues: a request for ID, a weary denial on the basis that pseudonyms aren’t on any ID, a quick consultation by text message, an unenthusiastic “OK, sir. This way, please.” Soon after, Jonghyun has taken his place and assumes the target of many pairs of staring eyes in the room. Some point and snicker, some watch him awestruck, some even take photos. Selcas! Like he is some sort of celebrity! He feels uneasy and oddly vulnerable, fidgeting with his sunglasses as they threaten to slip on the sweat beading his face.

But when the doors are finally shut and the event declared open, Jonghyun’s jealousy soars.

There are lengthy, winding lines of people waiting to speak to nearly all the other writers--but not him. No one approaches him. Not for the first ten minutes, not for the next half hour. In spite of all the staring from before, no one wants to speak with him. No one is interested in getting his signature.

It is only now, at such a place and such a time, that a series of paranoid questions fills his head. Does anyone read his books? Does anybody like them? Is he not popular? Is his work insignificant, even in circles like these?

If the number of people dying to speak with the others is anything to go by… then no. Jonghyun is not in the least bit popular.

He overhears his neighbour chuckle to say things like, of course there is a sequel coming out or yes, I based that character on myself. There are squeals, there are gasps, there is enough veneration to drown Jonghyun in self-pity. Suddenly, he wishes for that love and admiration. He wishes someone would ask him interesting questions and expect fascinating answers; dote on him just the way they dote on the rest of the panel.

His jealousy is poisonous enough that it spreads through his blood. His eyes burn with it, his pulse throbs against it, he feels it bristle in and out of his nostrils with every breath. His sweat begins to sting. His solitude starts to prick. His confidence dwindles to nearly nothing. The weight of envy makes him slide lower and lower into his seat. He plays with his marker and acts nonchalant. Acts like he is unaffected. But in truth he feels like crying. He feels like going home. He feels like quitting--

When his latest book is suddenly slammed onto the table, he yells and jumps a foot off his seat. Eyes turn to him again, this time with thinly veiled distaste rather than disinterest. He looks up at his assailant to find a lanky young man donning fashionable sunglasses and equally fashionable clothes.

“Sign, please,” the guy says in a tone that borders on demanding.

------

What surprises Jonghyun isn’t the fact that he has a “fan” in someone like Lee Taemin, as he introduces himself later. It is more astonishing to him that other people immediately follow his example and accost Jonghyun with copies of his work—some that look well used and dog-eared to the point that he is afraid to touch them. More and more readers who claim to love his writing flock over, while this Taemin character stands by. Silent, watchful, critical.

As he doles out autograph after rushed autograph, Jonghyun can’t for the life of him understand how the situation reversed itself in the blink of an eye.

“Uh… thank you?” he expresses uncertain gratitude. “I was. Surprised.”

“Mm hmm, so what do you want to do next?” the guy counters, folding up the sleeves of his baggy tee-shirt. The crowds have long dissipated. Security has rounded up all the stragglers, even the rowdy ones trying to get too close to that overly popular writer who went by the penname of Eonsook. But no one seems bothered by Taemin. No one cares that he is still here, still engaging in lazy conversation, going at his own pace. Everything about this is so peculiar. Everything is the opposite of his expectations.

“Well, I was about to go home and eat dinner, so—”

“I meant,” an exasperated look berates him. “What do you want to do for your next project?”

There is no answer for that. Jonghyun doesn’t plan these things out. He sits in front of the screen and starts to pour things onto it until he realises none of it is usable. Then he gives up. Rinse, repeat.

But he is expected to answer now. He is expected to say something rooted in a fully formed thought. He is expected to answer this man, this person who appeared out of nowhere and somehow managed to single-handedly create the interest Jonghyun was looking forward to. So, is there also an expected answer? Is there a right and a wrong response? Should he take the question as a cue to say something else, something scripted for such interactions? He doesn’t know.

He settles for a vague, “Uhm, is there anything in particular that Taemin ssi likes to read?” If he has learnt something from his time writing about politics, it is this: the best answer to a difficult question is another question.

An indifferent shrug replies. “Don’t really care. As long as there’s sex in it.”

He’d make a great politician, Jonghyun thinks as he starts to gather his things. “Well. I’m sure you’ll find plenty to satisfy you, then,” he gestures around them at the nearly vacated hall.

The man on the stage waves to him, he waves back. They will probably speak on the phone later on, and Jonghyun will bombard him with questions.

“But I like what you write,” Taemin continues, drawing is attention back. Physically holding his chin and turning his face so they are looking at each other again. “I want you to write more. Much more. A series!” there is a hint of excitement on those puffy lips.

Jonghyun knows not to aggravate people like him. People who are probably more dangerous than they appear to be. He takes a cautious step back. “I… I wish I could, sir. But you see—”

“I’ll pay you to do it.” A sure motion pulls an expensive-looking wallet out. A wad of cash is counted before nearly all of it is set onto the table. “An advance. I’ll give you three times that when you’ve finished the first draft. How about it?”

He stares at the fan of ten thousand won notes. Rent, he reminds himself. You must pay rent by the end of next week. But what the hell is he going to write?! “Sir, I’m… I’m really very sorry. I don’t have any plans to write the next book and. And I’m not even sure what to write so—”

“I’ll help with that,” Taemin insists. “You need ideas, I’ll give you all the ideas you need. I’ll… I’ll be your muse,” he decides.

Jonghyun stares for a long uneasy moment. Where is security and why aren’t they doing anything? he wonders. He takes another step to back away from the weird man. But the money is right there, perfect bright green rectangles that seem to have come fresh out of the mint. The overlapping portraits of Sejong the Great are all pleading with him to be pocketed. Just say yes! the king is shouting out, even in that placid gaze. You don’t have to follow through, just take the money and run! He can’t find you, anyway!

No. That would be disingenuous. That wouldn’t be right. No matter how desperate his situation, Jonghyun would never resort to thievery. He shakes his head and stays his hand, making no move to accept the money.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help you, Taemin ssi,” he bows and rushes off.

------

Their story begins and ends at Namdaemun.

She looks at its sombre face, artillery fire still marking some of its masonry and disrupting the course of the story. Their story. It is the gate that reaches out for a hug, she thinks when a cold wind picks up and threatens to swoop her shivering self away. It is the gate that offers an embrace, arms angling out from its stiff middle, like a father consoling his sad and broken child. How odd it looked in its place. How quaint, to be the only survivor of its own story. No more kings roam under its elegant archway. No more guards train their arrows from the pagoda. No more tigers rustle nearby under the cover of trees, desperate to find a meal.

This gate… this thing. It shouldn't be here. But someone has shown it their kindness and tended to it; fed it with mortar and concrete and newly painted timber. Someone has seen fit to breathe new life into it.

Their story begins and ends here.

She met him once, then many times, upon the tufts of grass framing Namdaemun. She met him and with every meeting the distance between them diminished from feet to inches to barely anything. She met him, met all of him, met every place on him with every place on herself. His hands would smell of spice. Of coal and heat and rain… perhaps he tended to a garden in their time apart. He had the gentlest hands. When he touched her, they felt like lamps against her skin. His warmth would intoxicate her.

Maybe he was made of fire, she would wonder in the hours they lay next to each other, breath stuttering and pulse racing. Maybe he was a jinn.

“You’re not small enough to fit in a lamp,” she would tease him when they'd stumble over each other.

In her loneliness, she’d dream of him, floating on clouds made of cotton. She'd imagine him traveling from land to unknown land and sea to unending sea. She would imagine him soaring, his skin burnished and his eyes like bronze.

But he is long gone, now. He has left her side and his hands warm someone else's days. She is the survivor of her own story. She is a stiff gate looking for someone to embrace, someone to comfort. She endures, just as Namdaemun endures. They stay and they wait, the gate and her, in the hope that someday there will be a finale to their respective stories.

And then they will breathe a unified sigh of relief.

------

Jonghyun supposes it would’ve been wise to expect a second meeting.

He is still shocked when the time comes: a buzz from downstairs, a murmured excuse about routine maintenance, a knock on the door that sounds far too eager to be just pest control.

When he opens the door to find the familiar lanky frame, he panics. There are no more disguises obscuring the distance between them now. Each man is plainly visible to the other. Jonghyun feels caught. Trapped, like a wild animal hunted until metal teeth closed around his leg. He frantically searches for something to hide behind, forgetting that he could simply shut the door again.

The creepy man named Lee Taemin invites himself in. He saunters casually, ambling the length of the hallway, looking around the room and humming, appraising it, measuring it. Measuring Jonghyun, who is still shocked and unable to react in a way that protects him.

“Wh-what’re you—?!” he begins when some of the shock has worn off.

“You don’t make a lot of money, do you?” Taemin cuts him off. “Why don’t you accept my offer? I’ll pay you plenty. More than you’ve probably ever seen. Then you can move out of this dump.” Even as he says this, he runs an appreciative hand over a row of books. “I can help you realise all your dreams, you know?”

“How did you even find me?!” Jonghyun counters.

“Does it matter?” the other drawls, shaking his head in exasperation. He swings his arms around himself as he walks, and when his palms meet, he lets them clap together. Like he’s out on a relaxing stroll in the park. Everything about the setting is preposterous. “I tracked you down, now I’m here, and I’m giving you a second chance. Isn’t that what’s important?”

He stares, trying to figure out this puzzle of a human being. What is this guy? How is he so at ease right now? What is this game he’s playing and why? Why with Jonghyun, of all people? Does everything out of his mouth sound like that? Like a simple fairy tale? I’ll do this, then you do this, then we’ll live happily ever after. Ridiculous!

He’s only ever seen people like that on dramas. Badly written and poorly acted dramas.

“Please leave,” Jonghyun requests, maintaining a formal tone despite all the peculiarity of the setup. “Or I'll call the police.”

Taemin clicks his tongue. “Not until you answer me.”

“Sir, I can’t be bought for no reason.”

“But I’m giving you a reason,” Taemin points out as if the concept is too difficult for Jonghyun to understand. Which it is. “I pay you, you write for me. I like what you write, I pay you to do more. It’s like…” he gestures, standing in the middle of the room, his stance oddly graceful and formidable at the same time. “Like when a king enjoyed an artist of his court and promised his patronage,” he illustrates. “That’s what we’ll be like.”

The smile on his face is a perfect representation of a magician’s. Maybe he is something of a trickster, Jonghyun thinks. Maybe he likes to put on a show and confuse people.

“The publication house already pays me,” he informs.

“After you finish the book,” he is challenged. It isn’t a lie, but how does this guy even know?1 “And only proportional to the sales. I’ll pay you regardless. In fact,” Taemin points. “I want you to write these books especially for me. My eyes only.”

So that’s it? Jonghyun wonders. Just a rich kid feeding his own kinks? He scoffs and rakes through his hair, sitting down at his desk to think.

He decides to consider it, because yes, he needs the money. Yes, he wants to stop living in fear of sleeping hungry. Yes, he doesn’t want to be destitute at the age of thirty-one, before he’s even had a real relationship, let alone marry and have kids.

But can he really uphold his end of a deal like that? Can he really write what this guy is expecting him to write?

“I’m not good at… at sexy things,” he finally declares, motioning with his hands as if to show they were empty. “I have to work very hard at it. I can’t do it the way the rest of the authors do, and—” he sighs, remembering the way crazed readers had flocked to everyone else’s tables. Remembering his sales numbers, and the words of the manager of the obscure bookstore as he complained about having to lug all the unsold copies back into storage.

Trash, he’d called them.

“Really, I’m not even sure why you came to me, when someone like… I don’t know. Eonsook? She’s the better choice, clearly.”

Taemin walks closer, his lips pursed like he is thinking of a convincing argument. Maybe he is, from the way his eyes are so focused and bright. There is an unbreakable determination in his every movement. He crouches in front of Jonghyun, sighing as he looks up.

“Your first book,” he begins. “A story about a man with a delusion. That he is in love with a woman. They fight, then they grow close together. And then, the man is cured through therapy. But,” he clicks his fingers. “His delusion has been passed to the woman. Brilliant idea,” he compliments. “Excellent writing. And yeah, sure, the sex stuff left a lot to be desired but…” he shrugs. “I liked the story. I liked that there was more to look forward to than just two people going at it. And you wrote to tell us that story, not to satisfy my needs, I could see that,” he assures. “So why not do more of that?”

Jonghyun gives a soft laugh despite himself. “Because that book sold less than a hundred copies. And the feedback was dismal—”

“Fuck the feedback,” Taemin shakes his head, a frown creasing his features. He looks young; too young to be involved in disreputable matters like this. Or… maybe at the perfect age to waste his time on such prurient endeavours. “Fuck what any of them think. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“And you do?” Jonghyun doesn’t mean to be so standoffish but he cannot help it. Here is a stranger, coming out of nowhere, to validate him and say nice things about his pathetic attempts at writing. Here is someone trying to convince him that sales don’t matter, popularity doesn’t matter, even the adoration of the readers doesn’t matter. Then what does? Jonghyun confronts with a scowl. What does this guy know?

Taemin chuckles. “All I know is this. I like everything you write.”

------

“This world is built on supply and demand,” Taemin explains.

He’s still here, hours later. By Jonghyun’s benevolence, of course. They are sitting on the floor, a laptop with a blank word document between them. The cursor is blinking… blinking incessantly. It taunts with each flicker.

Tell your story, Taemin said to him. Tell your story. Write it all down. Whatever you’re thinking of. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as your put it down in words.

Easy to say. Because try as he might, he doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t even have the shadow of a beginning, forget the middle and the end. There is no story in his mind, no words waiting at his fingertips.

This is a waste of time.

Taemin continues regardless. “The readers of this kind of stuff... their lives are filled with disappointment. With reality. They want the impossible: sultry encounters, beautiful getaways, improbable scenarios. You see?” he signals like his words are shedding light on abstruse philosophical concepts. “They want what they can’t have. And writers like Eonsook understand that. They supply that demand. That's why she’s always making bestsellers.”

Jonghyun considers this for a moment, seeing some truth in those claims. He takes a look around his own apartment, eyes roving over the small desk and small sofa and small kitchen. It is a liveable space, he reckons. It is better than a half-basement, or a slum with toxic asbestos roofing and poor access. But he is aware that in the bigger picture, he is still poor. He is confined. He is restricted. He is at the bottom of a heavy and insurmountable hill.

Disaffection comes easily to people like him. And short of being on the wrong side of the law, there is only one way to be at ease with his circumstances.

To pretend.

“But you? You fuck everything up,” Taemin carries on, amusement in his features. “You take that supply-demand model and turn it on its head. You say, I decide what I'll write. I decide what I produce. This is my art, not my bread. This is more than a paycheck for me. This is more than a popularity contest for me. That's what I see you think, and…” he shakes his head, chuckling as he reclines on his palms. “I gotta say, I find that really ballsy.”

A small balloon of pride inflates Jonghyun’s chest at the words, to his own surprise. He shifts and clears his throat. “Th-that’s all well and fine, but… but it doesn’t help that no one will read my stories.”

“Tell me something,” the other contests. “Why did you start writing in the first place? And—” he holds up a finger between them. “Don’t tell me it’s for the money. You could do anything and earn money. Why this specifically?”

“W-well, because… because what else am I going to do with a major in—?”

“No,” another shake of the head stops him. “No. Don’t answer from up here,” Taemin taps his temple. “This isn’t about rationality. This is about how you feel. About why you feel that way. Give me the answer in here,” he reaches forward and pokes a finger into the centre of Jonghyun’s chest.

He stares at the perfectly shaped fingernail, at the faint pink that dissipates into flesh below the joint. Why does he write? What compels him to scribble on stray pieces of paper? What makes him put his thoughts down on phone notes? What is it that surges in his chest when he’s in the shower, when he’s about to go to sleep, when he’s listening to a beautifully sad song for the first time? What makes him write?

“I… I have a lot to say,” he concludes. It feels like an admission of guilt—freeing. Splitting the restraints he’d been struggling against for… perhaps, years. It is like a large weight has come off his shoulders and now he can stand up straight. Now he can float off the ground. Now he can fly. He sighs and closes his eyes. “I have a lot to say. About… everything. And I—” he shakes his head, looks up from the finger, glances at the blank screen, turns his attention to the face of someone who is listening. Someone who is here and who does not appear to be in any hurry to leave.

“I really want someone to listen.”

With a pleased smirk, Taemin tilts his head and nods. “So start talking.”

------

He wonders what sounds he would hear, if he were up on the moon.

Would he hear the distant roll of waves? The rushing and ebbing of tides, their froth effervescent in the shell of his ears, their folding and retreating as sharp as the feeling of sand between his toes. Would he hear the occasional beep of a passing space shuttle? Would he see the face of another human in the window of the craft as it zooms past, their hands mirroring a wave and their faces reflecting each other's smiles?

What would he hear in that vacuum?

Would he hear the patter of his heartbeat, like water dribbling off a tin roof to roll along the eaves and fall against leaves, touch the ground, seep into the earth and become lost? Would he hear it speeding and softening like the tides, waxing and waning like the moon, repeating itself over and over, spinning like the earth does, like the stars do, like this universe does? Or would he feel an urgency in his lungs, the frenzy to drink in as much breath as he could, to gather as much oxygen in each inhale and retain it until his sight shook and his hearing went dissonant and he realised that he could hear nothing on the moon?

Nothing?

Maybe it would be hope. Maybe he would hear the sound of unfiltered sunlight hitting his skin. Maybe he would hear the whisper of a solar wind playing with his hair. Maybe he would hear his smile, his happiness, his joy even in solitude like that. Maybe he would hear something like that. Maybe it would be melodious to his ears, maybe he would dance to it, on the ashen rigoleth, the dead and cracked surface of the moon. Maybe he would float from crater to crater and find himself repeating circles, large ellipses that never ended. No beginning and no end. Maybe he would hear the most perfect sounds that ever existed. Maybe he would hear the sonorous representation of heaven.

Maybe the moon is full of music.

------

Jonghyun stretches his arms and arches his back, rolling his neck tiredly. The light outside his windows has dimmed by a large degree. The sun has gone down hours ago, without his noticing. He blinks and feels around himself to reach for a light switch. An afterimage of the laptop screen remains in his vision for a while as he stands on complaining legs and ankles. A grumble in his stomach alerts him of the time. Dinner time.

“Taemin ssi…?” he calls out, rubbing his eyes. “Taemin—”

It takes him a moment to realise he is alone. “Eh?” he scratches his cheek, trying to recall the sound of the door opening and shutting. He can’t tell how long it has been since the other left. There are no traces of his visit, no discarded teacups, no dirty plates with crumbs, nothing. He checks the bedroom, the bathroom, just to be sure. But it’s true: he has been a bad host.

Jonghyun really has been doing nothing but writing.

Searching for his phone to type out an apology, he realises belatedly that he doesn’t have a contact saved under “Lee Taemin.” With a repentant pout, he hums to himself. Next time, he promises himself. I’ll make it up to him next time.

When he’s settled down in front of his laptop again, this time with a steaming bowl of kal-guksu, he makes a choked sound at how much he has typed. Scrolling through page upon page of a very coherent-looking storyline, a reverberating surprise runs its course through him. Did he really do all this? Was that guy really serious about all that stuff? Has his inspiration finally returned to him, after all this time, all these years?

A muse… he feels the hint of a smile playing under his cheeks. He has a muse.

“That… isn’t that something imaginary?” Minho asks him when he excitedly gushes about the encounter. “Like, something that old men used to think up so they could make paintings and all that?”

“You’re just looking for an excuse to call me old,” Jonghyun dismisses. They’re lying on Minho’s carpet, listening to music. The sun is streaming through tall slider doors, and the usual sound of traffic is absent on a Sunday morning like this. Even the shadows look blue, their hue fluid and sparkling like light bouncing off of water. He feels calm, he feels like he is cradled in a hammock. As they relax side-by-side and read off their phones, there is a plot swirling in the back of Jonghyun’s mind. It buzzes and stirs, waiting to break out and lay itself down in orderly lines and sentences. He nurses it, pets its back, scratches it between its ears. He gives it a name.

But it can wait.

“Look at this,” he scrolls through a namuwiki article on the Muses, holding it out for the other to see. “It says this famous novelist from America calls his bowling trophy a muse. Wah…! He’s written so many famous books!”

“He’s old, too,” Minho snorts before he’s swatted at by an annoyed Jonghyun. “OK, OK!” he defends. “OK. I get it. You have a muse. So, is she hot?” he grins and rolls onto his elbows, a happy glimmer in his large eyes. “Does she pose for you? Do you get to take her on dates? How does it work?”

“It’s a guy,” Jonghyun frowns.

“Really?” Minho hums, the slightest disenchantment pulling at his lips. “But it says here that muses are supposed to be beautiful women. Look,” he wrests the phone away from his friend and goes to the image section of the article.

His point is proven by several old and colourful depictions of elegantly posed women, loose garments draped over their voluptuous fronts. There is no hint of an awkward lanky male form in dark and brooding clothes that blend him into his bleak surroundings. The women’s expressions are calm and filled with wisdom, unlike Taemin’s youthful fervour. The only feature that is barely reminiscent of the young man are the dark, mystical eyes.

Something inside Jonghyun grows uneasy.

“I mean…” he shrugs, hoping to give an explanation. He doesn’t have one, not at that moment. He doesn’t know how to defend his experience. All he knows is a name, some very sound advice, and the promise of money… money he hasn’t yet received, mind. He realises he is dealing with a stranger, after all. That if he isn’t careful, his prefatory suspicions of Taemin being a dangerous guy might still come true.

“Look, why don’t I introduce the two of you when he visits again?” he offers as justification, trying to push the issue aside. “You’ll like him, he’s got an... entertaining sort of personality, you’ll see—”

“I have a better idea,” Minho rejects the response. “Why don’t you just let me read one of your books, eh? I searched for your name and nothing comes up, you know? Are you really getting published at all? Or are they just taking you for a ride and stealing your work—?”

“Let’s just,” Jonghyun holds his hands up between them. He feels alarmed at the turn their conversation has taken. “Look. Let’s talk about this later, OK?”

“Hyung…” Minho makes an exasperated face, but he’s a good friend. His words are rooted in concern. He slowly settles back onto the floor, giving up on his argument, intertwining their legs. The soothing sounds from his music system take over once again.

What remains is Jonghyun’s fear of losing a dear friend.

------

“Who are you, really?” he shoots his misgivings the first chance he gets.

It has been many weeks since their last meeting. He has been progressively furthering the new book, or whatever it turns out to be in the end. What first sat as an idea in his scribbled notes has grown tall and strong. He now has chapters, and multiple plotlines that diverge from and converge on each other. He has dialogues, he has beats, he has imagery, he has descriptions. He has woven all the ends to make one whole, one complete mass, one continuous flow. Things are coming together, and Jonghyun is amazed at his own progress.

But his gratitude doesn’t dilute his distrust.

As soon as he barges into the apartment, Taemin demands to read through whatever there is so far. For a long time, he sits reposed on the sofa: silent for once, interest wavering only when he is addressed.

“Huh?”

“Are you just some rich chaebol kid looking to spend his dad’s money? Is this… just fun for you?” Jonghyun expounds on the interrogation. There is some insecurity in his tone, some residual lack of confidence from previous encounters that have left him wounded. Even he can tell. But he continues, unabashed in his self-preservation. “All this… this muse stuff. What’s in it for you?”

“I told you,” Taemin offers an apathetic shrug. “I like your writing.”

“I thought you like books with lots of sex,” Jonghyun frowns and counters, pointing at the tablet in the other’s hold. “I don’t have any of that in there.”

“Are you planning on keeping it that way?”

“Well, I wasn’t really going to, but—wait, no, listen to me,” he is nearly distracted, and the momentary look of triumph on Taemin’s face leaves him flustered. “I need to know who you are. I need to know why you’re doing this, and I need to know now,” he places his ultimatum. “Or I’m not writing another word.”

Taemin sits up and releases a slow exhale. His gaze is amused. It roves over his host, appraising him like a teacher would a child on his first day of school.

“What if I don’t tell you?” he posits. It’s not a challenge. His tone is chatty, conversational. As if he’s asking, what if cars could fly. He leans forward and smiles that magician smile again. “What will it change, if you know? Is it going to fix your life? Is it going to rid you of all your problems? Is the world going to make sense?” he motions with his hands. “Of course not. So why do you want to know?”

“Because—!” Jonghyun wants to say it will sate his curiosity, but he can’t admit that. Something about that feels like a confession. He can’t speak his mind like that.

“Look, I like that you’re curious,” Taemin reads his mind anyway, still smiling. “I like that you want to learn about things you don’t understand. I think that’s important for a writer. But I think what’s more important is figuring out what the real question is.”

He blinks with confusion. “The real question…?” he shakes his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re writing this thing,” the other waves the tablet. “And you’ve advanced really far into the storyline. Things are getting exciting, characters are finally starting to become full people I can be invested in. I can’t put this book down even if the house was burning,” he compliments. “But there’s something missing. And I can’t tell what it is, except that it exists. In there,” another poke into Jonghyun’s ribcage. “Maybe the question you should be asking then, is what is missing? What else do you need? What else is there for you to find?”

A clearing of the throat, a shift of the seat. Jonghyun won’t acknowledge it, but the words resonate with him.

Missing. Something is missing. Something needs to be found. Something is waiting to be discovered. Something that he requires to complete this story… or maybe complete himself. Something that once sat in an empty slot in his chest must be recovered. He doesn’t mean for the thought to be so profound. But it is that very same profoundness that makes him believe it’s probably true. Something is missing inside him. Something is missing from his life. Something is missing from his world. And he needs to find it.

“Will you help me look?” he entreats his muse.

A magnanimous stretch of the arms replies. “It’s what I’m here for,” Taemin grins and falls back onto the cushions, continuing to read.

------

They stand outside the apartment block and Jonghyun is still not sure about this.

“Look, I really don’t think—” he starts to beseech, but Taemin silences him with a wave of his hand. He clicks on one of the call buttons and a ring starts to go, only raising the panic in Jonghyun’s gut.

“Just meet with her,” the other persuades, rational as always.

When someone answers on the other side of the line, it’s as if his entire body freezes until he is nudged. “U-uhh… yes. M-my name is uh… I mean. That is—”

“Is this a prank call?” the woman asks with anger in her voice.

Another nudge shakes his senses up. “N-no…!” Jonghyun insists. “Uhm, we—you and I. We work for the same company. M-miss Eonsook.”

A long pause. Some rustling of cloth. Some whispered conversation in the background. Then the woman’s voice returns. “OK, come on up,” she finally acquiesces before a loud buzz swings the front door open.

“Go!” Taemin hisses at him, grinning wide under the dark sunglasses that have become his signature.

The building isn’t much different from Jonghyun’s own apartment block, but there is something lighter about everything. It feels… nicer. There are planters with pretty flowers along the corridor. The lifts are clean and fully functional. The walls are devoid of posters and advertisements. TV sets can be heard outside some of the doors, as can the whistle of pressure cookers and the nagging of mothers. The atmosphere is homely, welcoming. He doesn’t feel like he’s intruding on anything, so he continues to walk in confidently.

He reads the numbers on each unit as he passes by, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings and wishing Taemin were accompanying him.

When he’s at the door he was looking for, he rings the bell and waits.

The woman who answers him is somewhat recognizable. He remembers seeing the straight jet-black hair, the round jaw, the parrot-hooked nose, the no-nonsense stare. Even if he has never before glimpsed her puffy lips or heard her soft voice, he remembers her from the fan-meeting—and possibly from other occasions, when they bumped into each other at the publication office.

Nobody can tell she is one of the most popular writers in the country.

“Ah, hello,” he bows low and his sunglasses slip off his face to clatter to the ground. He scrambles to put them back on, but simply pockets the disguise when he notices the turn in her mouth. “M-my name is—”

“You must be the person who writes as Grapefruit,” she guesses correctly. Her diction holds a soft lisp. Barely there, unlike Minho’s often baby-like pronunciations. He blushes and nods at the floor in response to the question.

“Come in,” she invites him, the grille door swinging outwards.

Other than the ordinary-looking furnishings, her home is full of photos. As he pulls the surgical mask to his chin and wanders through the apartment, Jonghyun cannot help but study them all, turn by careful turn. All over the walls she has displayed pictures of herself, her family, her friends, and another woman. A sister, he guesses at first, before correcting himself when his eyes go to a shockingly intimate polaroid.

He doesn’t realize he is staring until he hears his host pointedly clear her throat.

“Some juice?” Eonsook offers the glass on a tray. He accepts and stands awkwardly for a few minutes, shifting from foot to foot.

“Y-you have a very nice place—” he begins.

“So,” Eonsook cuts him off, showing him a seat. “How can I help?”

“H-help?” he blinks, his thoughts clouded.

She raises her eyebrows, wets her lips, digs her teeth into the lower one. “It’s a polite way of asking why you’re here,” she clarifies. He can tell there is laughter waiting to bounce out of her throat. In everything she does, there is an underlying strain of confidence. She exudes it in waves that come off her and lap at his own chest, nearly pushing him back with their force.

“R-right! Yes, of course,” he jumbles with the glass in his hold, looking around for a moment before accepting the proffered seat. “I—I came to ask you for… for advice.”

She follows his example and sinks into an armchair, crossing her legs and watching him for a moment. A long and entertained moment. “Oh?”

“Y-yes…” he insists. “You see. I’m—I’m currently working on this book, and. And I’m at this part that I need to research before I write it. So…”

“What kind of part?” her interest is immediate.

He tries to think of a way to describe it, nervously scratching the back of his neck and fumbling with the collar of his tee shirt. He feels unreasonably nervous, cognizant of the sweat beginning to stream down his back. “W-well…” he tries.

“Is it a sexy part?” she asks.

“N-not really.”

“Hmm, I guessed as much,” she leans back into her chair. “I’ve read your work. You’re not much of an erotic writer, are you, Grapefruit ssi?” she sums him up with narrowed eyes. And yet, there isn’t any sign of malice in her observation. He glance is approving, in fact. Admiring. “Your stories are very different. Emotional. They’re for a very… cerebral audience. Is that always your intent?” she asks with some fascination in her gaze.

He blinks up at the ceiling, thinking of a genuine answer, not wanting to disappoint her for some nameless reason.

“No,” he concedes after a while. “I think it’s just… because of the kind of person I am. I think it requires me falling in love first before… before my characters fall in love.” He runs a finger over the rim of his condensate-covered glass, nodding contemplatively for a moment. “W-what about you?” he asks. “What is your intent? When you write, I mean.”

She hums, crossing her arms across her front. “Intent…” she hisses a breath in. “There doesn’t always have to be one, you know?” she says conversationally. “Like you said, we can feel very strongly about something, and then write about it. Tell a story around it. I think that’s possible,” she accepts. And when she smiles, he feels an odd sense of solidarity with her.

“What… what does Eonsook ssi feel strongly about?”

The woman smirks. “You were staring at her just now,” comes the simply reply. Accompanying it is the smooth motion of a hand coming up to support her chin, a ring glinting on its third finger.

Jonghyun bumbles an apology.

“There is nothing else I feel as strongly about,” she reveals. “There is no one I love as much, no one I care about as much, no one who matters to me as much. And so,” she holds out a hand between them. “I write about her. About us. I suppose…” she finishes with a grin, a clever gleam nestled in her eyes. “I suppose you can say she’s my muse.”

“A muse…!” Jonghyun’s heart runs on a treadmill at the words. “Do you think…” he begins, shifting forward in his seat. She mirrors the movement. “Do you think you could teach me? How you find the courage to tell your stories?” he requests.

“Courage?” Eonsook chuckles. “It doesn’t take courage to make people happy, Grapefruit ssi,” she shakes her head. “Because that is what we do. We ultimately make people happy with our work. They read it, they smile, they feel good. Maybe they forget about it after some time. Maybe some of it stays with them for years. Who knows?” she shrugs. “As long as we get them to smile.”

He feels awe at that. “As long as they smile…” he nods again, this time in understanding.

------

With every jump of his hips, he is filled with a murder of crows that flutter to the far edges of his body—to the villages settled in his fingertips and the townships developed in his toenails. With every jump of his hips the leaves inside him quiver from the force, as birds take to the skies between his stomach and lungs.

When they travel, when they journey through him, his sighs tell the tale of that journey. They sing like bards, reciting how the crows travel carrying messages tied to their feet. The sighs paint pictures of beaks pecking at his outer edges, his boundaries, his geographical territories. With every jump of his hips he is breaking those boundaries, violating the treaties that hold those borders sacred. With every jump, he is less self-contained, less of an uncontested dominion.

He secedes. He surrenders his independence. He lets himself be taken captive by the thrum of the man below him. Inside him.

With every jump of his hips, he abdicates the throne of his identity. He makes the other king. Gives his crown to another head. And the crows carry news of this shift in power to all the lands that were once under his reign. They carry the news, propelled by the sighs, released at every breath, every hitch, every gasp. Every jump.

In his own kingdom, he is now a pauper.

To have meaning, to be defined by a name and description—all this no longer applies to him. The other man has changed his definition. The other man has made him… not him. But if he is not himself, who is he? If he is not who he was born as, if he is no longer the man he introduced himself as, who is he? What is his name, now? What can he call himself? How will he present himself to strangers, if he is a stranger to his own self? If he looked himself up online, what would the results be? Would they just become strange unreadable symbols?

If he is not himself, then he does not exist: or, at least… this is what he has always thought to be true.

But now his hips jump, and his voice breaks, and he calls out a name that doesn’t belong to him. With every jump, he becomes a blurry existence.

------

They grow close, Eonsook and Jonghyun. They become friends.

She talks to him often, sometimes on the phone, other times over dinner. On a second visit to her apartment, he learns the other woman from the photos is Gwiboon, who talks a mile a minute and laughs like an erupting volcano. The two of them accept Jonghyun like he has always belonged in their life, always had a place in their home and their hearts. They are kind to him. They are kinder than most others have been.

Perhaps because there is nothing to hide from them. He doesn't have to lie about what he does for a living, doesn't have to make up stories about how he spends his free time. He doesn't have to shut his doors and draw his curtains with them. There is nothing to be ashamed of, in their company.

It's freeing.

Jonghyun continues to write, faster and longer than ever before. He writes like he breathes. He enjoys how uninhibited it makes him feel. He finds himself feeling more and more confident about this story, even going back to the rejected manuscript and making edits with a red marker. He meets Taemin at a café and spends most of the time scribbling in a notepad as they hide from other patrons in a corner booth.

With every page he writes, a mass of pride grows in his ribcage.

“So, what now?” Taemin asks him one afternoon, having finished the latest draft and giving it his seal of approval. “Where does the story go from here?”

“Hmm...” Jonghyun nurses a cup of coffee. It is early in the morning. He has been organising his books and wardrobe and even his thoughts while the other read. He has been carefully making his way through all that needs to be settled—in his writing and outside it.

“I could write some more about the way the characters feel. You know, build more plot buffer. Or,” he gives half a shrug. “I could. Resolve it in a certain way.”

“A certain way,” Taemin raises an eyebrow. “What way?”

“Well. They could. I don't know. Fall in love, and—” the other is vehemently shaking his head before Jonghyun even finishes his sentence. “What? Why not?!”

“Too forced,” Taemin disapproves. “It would just be pandering to your readers, when the story doesn’t naturally flow that way. Consider everything that’s happened. There is no justification for them falling in love. All they've done is meet a few times and exchange... banter.”

“Sometimes that's enough!” Jonghyun defends, then softens. “Is... is it not?”

“You tell me.”

“No, you tell me!” Jonghyun insists. “Is it not enough for them to know each other? To enjoy the company? To... to feel comfortable with each other? That should be enough sometimes, right? Wouldn't that be enough for you?”

“Is that the real question—?”

“Yes! Yes, it is!” Jonghyun shouts, and as he does, he is painfully aware of the fact that this is not how he had planned for this conversation to ensue. He is conscious of the fact that he has made it a confrontation rather than keeping it within the bounds of an emotional exchange. There is a feeling of being put under an unannounced spotlight, its glare harsh against his face. He breathes hard, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter before him, doubling over in preparation for the rest of his episode.

“Yes, it is,” he repeats in a quieter, gentler tone. When he straightens up, he stares at the other with pleading eyes.

“What am I to you?” he repeats with some desperation.

Taemin looks satisfied at the question, like he has been waiting a long time for it to emerge. He remains relaxed despite the friction, despite the anxiety in his host. He continues to smile like an illusionist, continues to watch like a judge. “Before I answer that,” he begins in a calm, collected voice. “And I will answer it. But before I do, I need to you to tell me first: what am I to you?”

The reaction enrages him. “No,” Jonghyun warns. “No. Enough games. Enough running around in circles. You’re never honest with me. You only talk about this… this shit!” he angrily motions at the tablet the other had been reading from. “You can’t avoid this anymore. You have to answer me now.” He holds a hand up between them and counts. “Who are you? Why are you helping me? What do I mean to you?”

“Hmm,” Taemin rocks back and forth. “You really want me to tell you?”

Jonghyun makes wide, aggravated motions. “Who else will—?!”

“You want me,” Taemin clarifies. “To tell you. Who I am,” he raises his eyebrows. “You really don’t know? Have you really not known? All this time?”

“That’s why I’m asking—!”

“No, you’re not,” the protest is cut off. “You’re asking because other people are asking: what does he do in there all day, who is he with, who is this muse he’s talking about all of a sudden. You’re asking because you need to give them an answer. An answer that isn’t really the answer,” the corner of Taemin’s lip turns up. “Isn’t it?”

“Wh-what…?” Jonghyun shakes his head, the hair on his arms standing on end.

Taemin skips off his stool, meanders around the counter, advances on him.

Jonghyun’s breath sounds like an elasticized gong. His inhales are like rubber bands, stretching on for hours and hours. He is buzzing, like he sits inside something alive. Inside a heart and the lights decorating Namdaemun at night are made of lamps that glow soft and warm as if someone is holding him in an embrace and showering him with solace while their eyes are speaking to him in a different tongue in a speech of a foreign land where jinn live and grant wishes and there is nothing to see for miles except murders of crows carrying messages on their feet telling the world that the empire has fallen the world is coming to an end and the—

------

Mapo bridge.

It talks to him. It asks how he is, if he’s eaten yet. It tells him to turn his head up and look at the blue sky once. It tells him it loves him. It tells him that the brightest moments in his life are yet to come.

Jonghyun cries hard enough that his body shakes from the force. Minho stands very close, looking worried and reaching out for a hug. But he is told to wait. Not yet. He is told to wait, Jonghyun will need him soon.

Words are everything he is. Words are his life and soul. His bone and sinew. His drifting days and sleepless nights. Words have created him, penned him down—not the other way around. They have built him up, bound his loose pages and given him a spine. They have made him Kim Jonghyun. They have made him a writer, a poet, an artist. They have made him what he is. And he would never have realised this, were it not for Taemin.

Were it not for himself.

“I write for myself,” he claims to the sad and bloated waters of the Han, knowing the other is listening. Somewhere. From within the crevasses of his mind, Taemin is listening. “I write for myself.” It is a heavy claim to make. It is heavy as lead. It is tied to Jonghyun's feet as he trains to run his ink across a coastline. The claim is heavy enough to need lugging around on his hipbone. It is heavy, it is full. Like an earthen pot spilling its contents.

His face is drenched when he speaks those hefty words, when he acknowledges them. He sobs and his fingers tighten on the rails of the bridge, the place he would often visit when he felt sad and alone. But he isn’t alone. Minho is here for him. Eonsook and Gwiboon wait in a car nearby. And Taemin.

Taemin exists in the beats of his pulse.

Behind him, traffic swishes past. In front of him, the river hushes his crying. “I write for myself,” he lets go of the full pot and watches it splash, watches its shards rock a little on the ground, after they've separated from the whole.

많이 힘들었구나

He touches the words of the bridge and nearly answers out loud. He nearly says yes. Yes. It was tiring. It was terrifyingly easy to give up on my dreams. He rocks a little in place and finally Minho gathers him into a tight hold, stroking circles on his back.

It was awful, Jonghyun wants to say. But I found him. I found myself. I found contentment. I found it. And now I can walk away from you saying yes. Yes, it was tiring. It was hard. But now my breath comes easily. My heart beats easily. My life runs easily. I am alive. I am free. I am happy.

I love myself.

#jongtae #long fic #shinee

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balancingdiet · 5 years

Text

Tabula Rasa

Detective Conan & Magic Kaito Characters: Shinichi/Kaito Words: 1700 ish Chapter: (1) ... (8) (9) (10)

Shinichi always finds his neighbour weird. But he didn’t expect to find his neighbour lying on a patch of grass and donned in Kaitou Kid’s costume, too.

The pain on his forehead felt like an ant bite at first; a sharp pinch that went away as quickly as it happened. It wasn’t very strange given he had woken up to all kinds of migraines in his life, but Shinichi had never gotten one that came in a set of three. Three attacks, a cooing sound, and then three—

Shinichi winced, attempting to peel open his deadweight eyelids. But it wasn’t just his eyelids that felt heavy; something was weighing his face down, and he couldn’t quite breathe properly too. He blinked, staring at the white ceiling above him… except that it wasn’t a ceiling.

Fluttering its white wings over Shinichi’s face, the dove pecked his forehead three times again.

“You little—" Shinichi swatted a hand over his face and flung half his body off the floor.

The dove flew away, joining another that was perched on the top of the huge television set; one that Shinichi clearly didn’t have.

He wondered which was more ridiculous: the fact it only just occurred to him this wasn’t his living room, or that he felt he’d slept better than he ever had on his own bed.

Shinichi grudgingly rubbed his forehead.

Ah, he’d figured what was the most ridiculous of all.

His right hand was still holding onto Kuroba’s.

And vice versa.

After Kuroba managed to calm down last night, Shinichi slowly unclasped Kuroba’s grip and tried to wake him up, but no sooner his hyperventilating fits returned and persisted for a while, and only when Shinichi took his hand again, he would return back to normal.

It was a continuous cycle, but that method always worked without fail.

Realising he couldn’t leave Kuroba lying on the floor the entire night (it was an option, but not a good one), Shinichi dragged him to the couch. He sat on the floor next to Kuroba, observing his breathing patterns closely to determine if it was safe for him to leave him alone. Who knew he would fall asleep too.

Judging from the light outside, it must be way past dawn. Or worse, late morning. But it was fine anyway. His report was already done, and the cases he had on hand weren’t of much priority, though Inspector Megure would definitely appreciate if he could solve them as soon as possible.

Holding his breath, Shinichi slowly unclenched his hand from Kuroba's one finger at a time.

Thankfully, he didn’t stir.

Shinichi stood up, letting out a quiet sigh and glanced across the living room. Now that he had the time and focus to notice, the layout of Kuroba’s house was similar to his, the only differentiating factor was the furniture. Most of what Shinichi had at home belonged to his great-uncle, saved for a few others that his mother bought to spice up the house. But it was the opposite for Kuroba. The sparse space in between his furniture emphasised the lack of the latter, and if he really wanted to move, he could do that in less than a few hours.

Was it really for the 63 doves?

Coincidentally, a dove cooed, breaking his mind tour around Kuroba's house. Shinichi blinked away and stared at another dove—which he didn't notice before—sitting on the back of the couch.

Shinichi narrowed his eyes, suddenly remembering about his mail. “Alright,” he whispered to the dove and at the ones that were still perched on the television. “Which one of you stolen my mail?”

A dove cooed.

“…What the hell?”

Shinichi froze. He slowly turned, looking at Kuroba who was now propped up on the couch with his elbow.

“What are you doing here?” he muttered, eyes equally wide as Shinichi’s.

There was a slight painful tightness in his chest, like the few seconds before the APTX antidote truly kicked in, but he guessed the only difference was he wasn’t going to shrink or expand this time. “One of your doves stolen my mail,” Shinichi said, and he was thankful he didn’t stutter.

Kuroba frowned. His eyes were a little droopy from waking up, but there was no sign of weariness in his tone, “So you trespassed into my house?” he said, fulling sitting up on the couch.

“Your door wasn’t locked.”

“So you trespassed into my house?”

Shinichi bit his lip, unsure if he should risk saying this one: “I tried warning you, but you didn’t answer.”

“So you trespassed into my house?”

Shinichi cast Kuroba a dark look. “You’re sounding like a broken recorder.”

“This is my house. I can be whatever I like.”

“Fair point.” Shinichi put out a hand. “Give me back my mail and I’ll leave.”

Kuroba stared at Shinichi’s hand before a glint of amusement lit up his eyes. “Don’t you feel a sense of Deja vu in this?”

“Funny,” Shinichi deadpanned. “My mail, would you please.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

Shinichi couldn’t blame him for that. “Your dove flew into the room that has a balcony. It might be in that one,” he suggested.

“Hm.” Kuroba stood up from the couch and nonchalantly brushed some feathers he found on his pants (it must have happened quite commonly). “So you trespassed my house so early in the morning just to get some mail? It must be important.”

Like what Shinichi guessed, it seemed Kuroba had no recollection of what happened last night, but he wasn’t sure when it would last till bits of his memories returned. He chose a safer route and didn’t answer.

Kuroba didn’t seem to regard anything odd to Shinichi’s silence. “Is it a fan-mail? Or a love letter from Mouri Ran?”

A heartbeat.

Shinichi's hands squeezed.

“No.”

The words came instantly before Shinichi could register himself saying it, and Kuroba looked at him, obviously noticing something was off, not just from Shinichi’s tone but probably the entire geography of his face.

For an instant, Kuroba seemed guilty, but Shinichi felt no satisfaction from it. “Ok. I'll go find it,” he awkwardly murmured before approaching the stairs.

Just when Shinichi was glad the whole conversation was over, he noticed Kuroba stopped in his tracks, his shoulders hunched in a tense way that wasn't so ten seconds ago. Then, with his back still facing the living room, Kuroba glanced at the floor, and something told Shinichi it wasn’t a coincidence that it was the spot he found Kuroba lying last night.

Despite turning just half of his body, Shinichi could see the clench in Kuroba’s cheek and the slight distant look in his eye. There was something about the way his fingers curled slightly into a fist, too.

He remembered, Shinichi thought, and he wondered how he managed to read him, as though he knew him since a long time ago.

Yes, for Kaitou Kid. But not for Kuroba Kaito.

“You came last night,” Kuroba said, more of a statement than a question.

There really wasn’t any other way to go around it. “…I did.”

Without another word, Kuroba headed up the stairs.

Shinichi never really liked Kuroba’s doves, be it the one that just pecked his head or the one that always shit on his mailbox. But as he waited in the living room alongside with the doves, he was strangely comforted by their presences.

A sound of click and footsteps after, Kuroba returned, passing an envelope to Shinichi. He recognized it as his mail and accepted it, before finding a Band-Aid underneath.

“It’s for your head,” Kuroba explained.

“Oh.” Shinichi brushed a finger past his forehead, feeling the prick from the pecked wound. “Thanks.”

Kuroba pursed his lips. “Don’t thank me.”

Well, right. Of course Shinichi shouldn’t thank him when it was his damn dove that did it. But he decided to account this another time—

“But thank you,” Kuroba added, beating Shinichi's attempt to say something else in reply.

Shinichi was used to an ungrateful Kuroba, the cheeky Kuroba and the annoying Kuroba, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for a thankful one. He spent the silence pocketing his Band-Aid before gesturing to the doves. “Do you let all of your 63 doves out?”

Kuroba blinked, looking a little confused for the change of topic, but he didn’t voice any reason to not continue. “No. Only the obedient ones.”

“Clearly a lack of better judgement when you let the one who caused this to be free.” Shinichi pointed at his forehead. He noticed Kuroba’s lips slightly tugged, and strangely, it was satisfying to know he was responsible for it. Shinichi continued, “But you shouldn’t thank me either. Thank the dove that stolen my mail, whichever it is. I think it lured me in to find you.”

Then, a heartbeat or two later—

“That’s it?” Kuroba asked, the crispness of his voice breaking the silence. “No more questions?”

“What?”

Kuroba walked towards the couch and pulled out a packet of seeds from his white pants. “You’re at least 500% less curious and persistent than the first time,” he said.

Shinichi shrugged. “Given the few expected answers, I don’t think I’m in any position to ask.”

The two doves from the television set joined the one at the couch. They started bobbing up and down, clearly awaiting for Kuroba to pour the seeds out, but he seemed too distracted in his silent thoughts to notice or do so.

Shinichi then plucked the packet from Kuroba’s loosened grasp, and said, “But I guess the only way for me to confirm my answer is to wait when the time is right. Or let the answer eventually come to me.”

Once Shinichi poured the seeds into his hand, the three doves immediately flocked to him, taking turns to feed. With his other hand, Shinichi resealed the zip and tossed the packet back to Kuroba, which he caught without battling an eyelid. Once the short feast was over, the doves scattered back to their positions, bobbing up and down again and eyeing on the packet in Kuroba’s hand.

“You should take a break,” Shinichi advised. He didn't expect an answer, and neither did he need one, so he turned, heading out of Kuroba's house.

But if Shinichi had waited longer and been more perspective, he might have heard Kuroba whispering, “I’ve already taken two years,” right before the front door closed behind him.

#kaishin #dcmk #detective conan #kudo shinichi #Kuroba Kaito #tabula rasa

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jack-andthestalk · 6 years

Text

Our Son, Arc II, Sunrise, Chapter 4.

Firstly a huge thank you to @missclairebelle who listened to my weird legal ramblings and made good on them, also for her shouty DM's and encouragement on this chapter, her talent is phenomenal across the board. @balfeheughlywed's feedback is so astute, and her support on this fic has been amazing and I just love the bants with her. This Arc is testing me and I was struggling to write anything for a while but I seem to have found a rhythm and that is partly thanks to @ladyviolethummingbird and @laythornmuse writing tips. So thank you!

A horrible feeling of bubbling nausea swirled relentlessly around in my tummy. Jamie's defeated face fixed on me, waiting for a reaction. Any words that were likely to come from my mouth would be so full of venom, that I dared not open it. Not to protect Jamie, it was to stop me sharing anything of my reaction.

"I wouldna leave you for anything Claire" Jamie's eyes beseeched mine, “I had no choice”.

I couldn’t look, wouldn’t let myself meet his eye.

I had inhaled his every word since he woke me an hour before. A lot of it was things I had already known from what Jenny had explained. Right up until the end, when he came to that bit I knew it was bad before he started.

Jamie seldom cried, maybe when Willie was born? I thought absently, apart from that I couldn't think of another time. Now standing on our cold cement door step, as the sun mounted the sky, he pinched his eyes to stem tears from streaming down his face, his cheeks stained with the ones that had already escaped.

I couldn't muster one ounce of sympathy for him, it scared me, complete detachment. My brain was protecting my heart allowing me just numbness for a moment or two.

It gave me the chance to look at him, really look at him as if he was another person's partner. What advice would I give my friend if she had moved herself and her son from their home thousands of miles to set up a life with someone she loved deeply, the father of her child, only to arrive and have he tell you that he actually was moving hundreds of miles away to run another business?

I knew that I would tell her to pick up whatever dignity she had left and run, run, run.

Thoughts of Willie fleeted through my addled brain. How would I tell him? When would we leave?

“How long?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t speak and I felt the rage boiling in me again, this time now through gritted teeth,

“how fucking long Jamie?”

He sniffed and cleared his throat, "two years as long as it takes to finish it."

“And how long until you go?”

“Claire” he whispered imploringly.

"I need to prepare Willie," I said briskly, ignoring his plea.

“Ten weeks.”

A nod and I was on my feet, brushing myself down. ”Ok”

“Where are ye going?”

“I am not sure,” I replied distractedly looking out at the vast amount of hills and fields I could wander through.

Jamie rose to grab me back. “Alone Jamie, leave me alone.”

______________________

Four hours later with bleak black clouds hovering over me, I found myself at the stables, watching Brian brush down a great big stallion. Methodically covering each inch of the horses back with long even strokes.

He swung around when he heard me approach.

"Just me” I said meekly, wrapping my arms around my waist, suddenly feeling the cold.

Brian's startled expression softened instantly and he looked at me with utter sympathy causing tears filled my eyes abruptly. "Thank god, are ye alright?"

A nod, while I stunk my teeth into my bottom lip. “Fine”.

“He has been out looking for ye twice lass, his temper is frayed enough, I thought he might kill someone if ye dinna return to him soon.

I snorted, but the downturn in my lips made it appear more of a sneer, "when I do go, I won't be leaving on foot", my tone was biting, and I regretted at once using it on Brian but the regret quickly waned when I pictured them all knowing, they knew before me and did nothing. Fuck them all.

Brian's face creased in pity, I couldn't bare it. I turned to leave again not sure of where I would go. "Claire I ken ye are hurting ..."

My voice was brisk now "Brian if it’s all the same to you...I don't want to..."

His hand was firm yet gentle on my shoulder as he turned me, "ye have every right" he said softly. Jamie feared it most of all that it would hurt ye, lassie, ye were his only care, I can promise ye that."

A dense lump climbed up my throat, painfully reminding me that if I spoke it would unleash a sob instead of words. I placed the flat palm of my hand to my forehead but it was too late, tears were coming again. It was as if my eyes were so practiced at it they couldn't stop. I tried breathing in and out deeply, in the hope of bringing back some calmness. Suddenly I could feel Brian's arms folding me into him, holding me to his chest. "Ach Claire...dinna weep a leannan."

That was all it took before big rasping sobs escaped my chest and vibrated against Brian's.

He held me for some time before he gently guided me over to a hay bale and beckoned me to sit, handing me a tissue.

"Claire I dinna ken how much the lad told ye, and I dinna want to make things worse, but I hate to see the two of ye hurting...and I ken Jamie is too"

He looked down at his hands shamefully, "he might even feel worse because it's his fault", sighing deeply, trying to summon up words that could make things a whole lot worse or in the vien hope it might ease some of the pain. "having my own hands soiled in this sorry affair brings me nothing but shame too." he said quietly.

I put my hand over Brian's hand, "It's not your fault" I whispered.

He shook his head avidly, "I should have checked the contract with him, he was under such pressure...I shouldha kent."

I couldn't follow the jumble of words falling from his mouth.

I turned to him now, my brows creased "From the beginning" I said firmly.

A long intake of breath, Brian rubbed his hands nervously up and down his thighs, after tapping his fingers lightly against his thigh for a moment or two, he began to speak slow halting words, "Jamie was trying to secure a deal” hands upturned now in demonstration…he dinna say it but I kent he wanted it for our pensions", another nod and he swallowed "mine and Ellens".

"Since my accident, the lad has been very firm in that he wanted me to retire properly, have a life outside of here, ya ken?"

I bobbed my head receptively, suddenly needing someone to fill in the gaps that I wouldn’t allow myself to ask Jamie. A red mist had blocked any further need for information.

"When the Dunsany's offered him the contract to buy exclusively from Lallybroch...well we thought it too good to be true", "I shouldha fucking known that spineless bastard Dougal could only bring harm on us" he hissed, throwing a piece of straw he had been playing with forcibly to the ground, standing abruptly he began pacing over and back in front of me, temper subdued enough so he could continue. "Jamie saw it as a way to secure Lallybroch's future and allow Ellen and me a healthy pension to retire on.

They offered us a large amount of money to secure the right to exclusively buy any stock that was bred and raised here at Lallybroch. If there was stock, they had a need of, and we dinna have it here, the contract included provisions for Jamie to buy on their behalf, train the animal and sell it on to the Dunsany's."

Another slight tilt of my head acknowledging my understanding.

Brian ran his hands along the edge of a stable door, pausing over grooves with his long fingers considering. "They drew up the contracts a few months ago, but Jamie held off on signing…it was something he was thinking on. Then the stud got that virus, the poor lad was day and night with them, trying to keep the infection at bay. He missed yer birthday on the head of it.

"I remember," I said hoarsely.

“He returned from his last trip to Boston, and he had decided he would sign”.

Brian looked imploringly at me now.

"We were still reeling from nearly losing all our livestock if it hadna been for Jamie’s quick thinking…” he trailed off, and smiled meekily at me “for the first time we realised just how vulnerable we were…" He tilted his head shyly ", and I know now that Jamie had asked ye to marry him on that trip…so the lad had his plans too."

My heart fluttered in my chest, and fresh tears slid down my cheeks. So much hope and now it was snuffed out. Thinking of the stress, Jamie must have been under yet he flew to me in Boston proposing during it all. My thoughts must have been apparent on my face because Brian's face softened "it puts things in perspective lass, Jamie was fair desperate to see ye."

I wiped a stray tear from my face. "That is when Jamie signed the contract," he said sorrowfully, "When he came back from Boston" Brian pressed his bottom lip into his mouth and shook his head dejectedly.

"There was no reason to think the worst of them...it all seemed above board”.

"This trip was just to iron out the specifics, work out what stock they would need over the coming months, talk to them about what Mares were in foal, breeds, that kind of thing,"

Brian ruffled the thick black hair on top of his head, and it struck me how not only alike Jamie was to him but Willie too, absently thinking the Frasers had strong genes. "Then last night they turned around and said they wanted Jamie to oversee this big expansion at Hellwater!”

My mind suddenly was in the drawing room watching this nightmare unfold, and I idiotically could see Geneva Dunsany, leering gleefully in a corner because she knew all along they had this trick up their sleeve.

Brian's foot started tapping agitatedly, "Jamie refused outright…said there was no way, and then they drew their sword." He finished bleakly.

My heart started hammering fast in my chest, I hadn't let Jamie explain earlier, he had looked at me, eyes empty and said "they have the power to shut us down if I dinna go Claire", I hadn't cared then what justifications he thought he had.

To up and leave after I had given everything up to come to be with him. He had never been able to leave before when I needed him.

I didn't want to hear it from Jamie, but now in the cold light of day and Brian's sad face before me, I had to learn the full truth whether I wanted to or not.

"There were small clauses built into the contract Jamie signed; what he thought were insignificant details, they are using them against us Claire."

I opened my mouth to ask, had he not sought legal advice? could we fight these contracts? The resignation of Brian's face somehow told me there was little hope for any of that.

Brian sat down beside me again, putting his big hand over mine, “He has a huge talent, clever man when it comes to farming, horses, even business..but Jamie has a kind heart…he never wouldha thought that people would be capable of being so underhand.”

"What are the clauses?" my voice sounded cold, I didn't mean it. I was trying to protect myself from something, and I wasn't even sure what.

“The Dunsany’s have exclusive rights to buy our stock, and they may take up to 180 days to decide if they want them and are entitled to the first refusal." They made it clear that if Jamie decided not to go to Hellwater, they would apply that right on every horse they look at. Even though last night they told us it would be their intention not to buy any. It means we wouldna be legally allowed to pursue another sale…for some time."

Brian's head bent slowly, and he appeared for the first time as if he might breakdown himself. "the second clause is we canna sell within 200 miles of Hellwater Claire. They effectively can make it so we willna be able to sell our stock to anyone that could offer us a competitive price and by the time ye take in the delay they can impose on such a sale…well ye may as well close us down now.”

Brian’s head dropped and he clasped his hands together “I ken ye are angry with him and it willna help him for me to say this to ye but Ellen and I dinna want him to give into them…”

He sat up straight now, pride in his voice when he spoke again “Jamie isna an ordinary man, he was born to lead, and he saw hundreds of years of work by our kin about to be robbed by those bastards, and I knew we could argue all night, it wouldna mattered, he will sacrifice himself to help us.”

I said nothing, the stillness in the stables, grew thick.

Brian's choked voice broke the silence, "It kills me, my son has to do this Claire…I would do anything so he mightn't have to but he willna leave us without a home or business, and we canna persuade him otherwise."

I wiped the dust from my thighs and stood up.

"I am so sorry a Leannan" he said quietly.

I squeezed Brian's shoulder as he stood, pulling me to him and embracing me without another word. "We will be yer home still?” his face searching mine. I realised that they had just got used to the idea of Willie living here.

“I don’t know…Jamie doesn’t even know how often he is likely to be able to get home…and I would never go to him there…not now especially." I replied flatly.

It was only then I heard rustling behind me that I realised Jamie stood watching me with hollow eyes, taking in the sight of my red and tear-streaked face and his father's arms around my shoulders comforting me, something I hadn't allowed him to do.

#outlander fanfic #ourson

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 5 years

Text

Please do not reblog

You know, sometimes it’s a little interaction that makes you realise that you don’t need someone in your life.

Like, I keep recalling in the last few days how I had a ‘friend’ in the past who was always there when they needed me, always talked over everyone, and changed every topic to be about them. It was very tiring when you review interacctions with hindsight.

Now the thing was, this person had gone to live in the city for college, and when they said they were coming back for a visit, a bunch of people made themselves available to have time with this person. We were supposedly ‘best friends’ or thereabouts, after several years, and so I pushed an urgent assignment to the side...

So, they came. People flagged off from the group after the first 45 minutes as they held forth about themselves... and themselves.

[On a prevous visit, they had brought a new boyfriend and, as a 20+ thought it was Hilarious, to just say things like, “Let’s make-out and see if we can make (usually me) uncomfortable” while we were in public. So everyone had a relatively high tolerance for their shit.]

After wandering the main street for some time, and refusing to go see the movie we were all going to see as per the plan, everyone but like two others left. Smiling and ready to Go.

Okay, fine. Change of plans, whatever. We could have fun talking, right? But one of the others notes that too much time has been spent wandering, and the friend had to catch the shuttle back to the city like, in twenty minutes.

Can you get them to hurry? No.

Do they walk into Every. Damn. Store until the entire group is anxious about them missing it? Yeah.

But, and here’s where the shit hits the fan, they go into one of those trendy stores that sells shit with like, Harry Potter and Fortnite and Pickle Rick on the shirts for ludicrous prices (but only if your understanding of sizing is ‘god help you if you’re over a medium).

So, the other too are anxiously waiting outside and I’m standing next to them, talking and hoping they’ll hurry up. They fetch out some strappy white singlet thing and smiled, before loudly announcing to the store at large, “Oh, this is cute! Hey, if I get a size up (Aus 8), we can share!”

And that’s when I saw the look, the straight up bitch in those eyes. This size 6, was proposing a then size 16 would fit if they only got a size 8; and everyone in the store took a look at us like, ‘Yeah, right.”

And that’s when your brain pulls a full-on flashback episode to all the times you get a half-insult/half-compliment about your clothes or hair, or a ‘size isn’t evrything’ with That Look, and how everything you do is Good but not like... On Their Level of Great. And how they always complained about being Too Fat around you, and not the other, say, skinnier friends. How they loudly asked you personal questions in a public space to put you off kilter.

You dismissed it as having been put in front of audiences since they were little, of projecting or being a little weird because they were used to being the centre of attention for years and didn’t like sharing it...

But then it’s like, “Well why should you have to put up with that?”

--------

In short, the snide comments aren’t playful friendly banter; sometimes they’re snide comments, and they’re coming from someone who depends on your loyalty and friendship never wavering no matter what they do. There’s a point where you have to just... tell them to fuck off.

Be polite, when you interact in public, courteous. Give them no reason to bitch about you, but make it clear that whatever lopsided relationship you had, it’s gone now.

And this goes double for family and romantic partnerships. If they’re always on your case about something, putting you down to get what they want or to feel better? Red Flag lads.

------

I just keep thinking about that, recently. How many little flags got lost along the way to that tiny little interaction that put everything else in perspective.

Adulthood is the experience, ability and confidence to recognise when some shit’s not right, and straight up cutting off the offending party. Not everyone gets forgiveness, or undying loyalty, or an explanation.

If you have someone n your life that you think might fit this scenario, but you’re on the fence... ask yourself:

+what is it they say that upsets me? Say, do, not say. Maybe one of their friends puts you down all the time and it’s all ‘just a joke’. Your friends says you overreact. Or perhaps they’re always hinting you’d be prettier with shorter hair, or that you look slutty with your clevage on display... etc.

+how many little favours have I done for them? Have you been doing little things to help them beyond the scope of friendship? A close friend can help when you’re sick, or watch the kids, or review an assessment before you submit it... but, think back to how much is asked of you. What happened last time you asked them for a reasonable amount of assistance with something, big or small? Did they say yes and not do it, did they do it, did they do a shitty job so you’d never ask again, or did they refuse?

+when was the last time they initiated contact, in a situation where they didn’t need something? If you have to answer their call at 3am because they’re sobbing over a long-lost love, but they leave your “hey I’m at the hospital and need a ride home” text on read for a week... Who does the calling, the texting, puts the effort in? Who remembers birthdays and does christmas gifts and little fun things just because? who is putting all the work into this friendship/relationship/other? Is it always on Their Terms? As in, they tell you when they’re available and you have to clear your schedule?

+is spending time with them fun, an obligation or a chore? Do you look forwards to seeing them, or dread it. Both, maybe? Do you think “What do they want?”

+Do I have to give up any part of myself or my voice in order to keep the peace around them? You talk about something you want to, and they hush you, ask you not to ‘go on about ...’ or be ‘so political’, or talk over you, or switch the subject. Do they talk about things that make you uncomfortable or push private issues that they have no right to know...? Do they ambush you in social situations, or try to humiliate but call it ‘just a prank’ and downplay feelings as ‘don’t get so serious!’?

-----

+What can I gain without them in my life? Answer: Everything +What am I afraid of if I cut them out of my life?

I will find new friends, new family, new lovers. It will take time, but it is mine and my right to choose.

----

You hear variations of the story a thousand times.

“Oh but they were having a bad day”

“Well, I mean they only could come down on that weekend, so I changed my plans... you know how they get if you don’t see them.”

“It’s lucky they told me that dress made me look like a slut, or I’d have gone to the party in it...”

“They’re right though, I am fat. I shouldn’t have had the dessert...”

“They only said it because they care.”

“They must have been busy when I called...”

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, they needed to talk to someone... but they ran out of mobile minutes before I got a chance to tell them whats going on for me,”

etc.

Realising I could say what I wanted and choose friends who valued me for me, was a pivotal point in my life. It was some years ago now, but it was important.

And I see a lot of stories from some of you, on my dash, talking about people just like my ‘friend’.

Sometimes they’re a ‘best friend’, sometimes they’re a partner, sometimes they’re a sibling or parent or cousin... and you just need to hear that the shit they pull isn’t okay. You don’t deserve that.

A real friend will mention to you, in private, if they’re concerned because you seem to be really flat lately, or tell you flat-out f pants you’re trying on do not suit in the Least. And help you find something better.

An asshole, wll tell you the pants look Great, because they like to see you looking goofy, and therefore making them looking better. They’ll ask you loudly, in public, why you look so fucking pathetic and ugh, have you showered this week?

A very close friend who also has epression, and Gets It, might say “Get in the fucking shower or I get the hose...” and then cook you both 2 minute noodles.

A shitty person in your life would bring it up All The Time as a weapon. eg. “Oh so you’re too Sad to do the Dishes now, huh?” or “You’re just not trying hard enough” or “You could lose weight if you’d stop laying around like some snowflake” etc.

---------

I forgot where this was going.

Please don’t reblog. And don’t stand for this sort of shit.

They ush a lot of little things before they get bold, and some people don’t see those flags until the big red sailboat hits them headon without any pretence of turning aside or stopping. So like... cut people out of your life, prune the family tree, find a way forwards by dumping the deadweight.

You got this.

#not the worst person perhaps #but not the only one #and yet relieving to remove them

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

Text

i like the nightlife, she says {Roger Taylor}

A/N: more of the modern high school AYDTD au no-one asked for. I wrote this all on my phone so it's probs not great but it is what it is. In the modern au her brother's not a dick and I'm loving it. Feedback is appreciated. I'll fix the formatting tomorrow.

"You need more friends your age." Oscar tells Ash while he's making them both dinner. Their dad's still at work but mac and cheese was never something either of the siblings complained about.

"Why?" Ash, sitting on the counter top by the sink, watches as her older brother frowns at the question.

"Why? What do you mean 'why'?" He spluttered, eyebrows raised as he turned to face her. "It's good for your social development-"

"So you're a psych student now?" Ash crosses her arms, leaning back against the wall, "I've got friends back home, I'm only here for a year and a half before I'm going to uni so why should I bother?" And oh, it's like two successive gut punches; the elder of the siblings has to take a long moment of staring into the saucepan, stirring idly, in order to process what Ash had said.

"A year and a half is a longass time," Oscar chooses to focus on the latter, and Ash rolled her eyes, "how often do you see or talk to your friends back home?" He uses her phrasing but it hurts just a little. Ash, in turn, is quiet for a long time.

"Do Snapchat streaks count?" She asks, a little sheepish, like she already knows his answer.

"They absolutely do not; you should be out with friends being young and dumb on a Friday, not eating mac and cheese with your brother." He turns off the burner and motions for her to hop off the counter. As he plates up dinner, they're both contemplative.

"I'm young and dumb regardless," finally Ash speaks, giving Oscar a pointed look, and he concedes on that point at least. After a beat, Ash's lips twitch into a mischievous smile, "but if you let me borrow your friend's ID again we can go see Queen and I can make friends with John." Oscar regards her curiously for a moment, mouth full of food.

"Not Roger?" He asks through his food, genuinely confused, "isn't he in your class- ?"

"Gross, finish your fucking mouthful first." Wrinkling her nose, Ash pushes her food around her bowl, waiting for him to finish. Instead, he opens his mouth wide and makes an obnoxious noise, laughing as Ash fake gags, "you're an absolute cretin sometimes, you know that?"

"Is that your word of the day?" He asks with a grin after he dies actually swallow his mouthful, poking fun at how strange the word 'cretin' sounded amid her usual vocabulary. "Anyways, why not make friends with Roger if you're going after the band? He's in your year, isn't he?" He waits patiently for Ash to finish her own mouthful before answering.

"Firstly, he ruined my major work so I hate him on principle," Ash held up a singular finger before moving on to get next point, "secondly, I've been at this school for one semester and I already know that Roger Taylor does not just make friends with girls," she's far too passionate for this to be off the top of her head; Oscar know when she's been thinking hard about something, and this must have been on her mind for a while, "and thirdly, I'm not going to try and befriend him at a gig, he's got girls all over him, and I don't think he even knows my name." Slumping back in her chair as her momentum left her, Ash shovels another spoon full of pasta into her mouth angrily.

"Why does that matter?" Oscar finally asks, and when Ash looks to him making a confused noise, she doesn't like the knowing look in his eyes. "Why does him not knowing your name matter? Can't you just introduce yourself?" Ash turns pink in the silence that follows, scrunching up her face and refusing to meet Oscar's gaze as she begrudgingly agrees. "I mean I'm not saying you need to forgive the guy for the whole major work thing," Oscar shrugs, letting the tension drop, and Ash visibly relaxes, "that was fucked, and if you want me to punt him into the English Channel, you know I will." That gets her to actually laugh, and Oscar's gaze turns fond, "but maybe give him a chance."

"Half a chance." Ash counters, as if it were a game, and Oscar nods, as if agreeing to her terms. "And I'll make friends with John anyways; he's funky, I like him." She says bluntly, and Oscar snorts out a laugh.

"Alright, sounds good; did you wanna go tonight?" He asks, and Ash's expression turns confused.

"I thought you had that poetry competition tonight." She frowned, and there was a moment in which Oscar's heart filled with fondness for his little sister, his number one fan.

"Yeah, after that, biscuit, that only goes 'til eight; Freddie said they don't usually start until nine-thirty." After a moment of contemplating his words, Ash grins and nods.

Oscar and Ash walk in during the band's sound check, and Roger almost drops his drumstick where he's twirling it. Both Brian and Freddie give them a wave, which is returned by the gingers, and Roger has to stop himself from snapping at the others where they glance pointedly at him; he's already turning red as it is. He's grateful to hide behind the drum kit. They saw each other like six hours ago; they always have art together last period on a Friday, but seeing her at one of his gigs is different.

She's standoffish and aloof in class, she actually uses the free time the teacher allocates in art to work on her projects where everyone else uses it to socialise. He's not even sure if she's bothered to learn the names of half the people in her class, she might not even know the teacher's name, but when she's here, bright and bubbly next to her lanky, uni student of a brother - who is literally over a foot taller than her; side by side they're a little jarring to look at - she clearly know John, who is two years below them, and as it turns out, she knows Roger too.

Roger spends his time between sets by the bar, with the others, and a crowd of uni girls who haven't realised he's probably too young for them. Not that he's quick to point that out. It takes until he spots Oscar at the other end of the bar, taking to Brian with a softly starry-eyed expression, to remember that it's probably a terrible idea to leave any of his bandmates alone with Ash. Taking one look at the table Ash had commondeered earlier that night, he realises he might be too late, seeing John squinting suspiciously at Ash.

"Hey, your eyes are green." Roger hears John say as the drummer makes a beeline for the table.

"What? Yeah, why?" Ash, confused as all hell, shoots a concerned glance at the incoming Roger, as if silently asking what the hell was going on and if this was the bassist's normal behaviour. John follow her gaze and gives Roger a shiteating grin.

"No reason." John says pointedly, sliding from his stool. "I'll be back, I'm going to take a piss." And with that he leaves. Roger regrets ever inviting the little twerp to join the band; fifteen-year-olds are universally terrible, Roger decides, and John Deacon is no different.

"What was that about?" Ash asks, and Roger takes a long sip of his beer, enduring the taste despite how much he hated it. Finally, he sits in on the stool directly beside Ash, though she doesn't seem inclined to move away.

"Nothing, ignore him." Roger rolls his eyes, shooting for casual, and silence stretches between them. Finally he gets a good look at her; from the stage he could sort of see her, but not really beyond knowing it's her, and even then he could only identify her for her hair. He really needed to find his contacts of she was going to keep showing up looking this good to gigs. He's seen her in her school uniform more times than he can count, and last time she was here she was yelling at him and he was too focused on trying not to think about how hot she was when she was mad to notice her clothes. But today? Today she'd dressed up, and he'd be dammed if he didn't admire it a little bit.

He's never seen her in makeup, granted it was just some eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss, but it made her look a little softer, somehow all of the look, from the sleeveless button down shirt being tucked into her high waisted skirt, to the dainty, lace up heels she wore, all just made her look... cute.

"You guys sound really good; its weird seeing you, Brian, and John all on stage together but it sounds good." She half laughs, and Roger hadn't considered it from an outside perspective, especially not from her's; her tutor, classmate, and a kid two years below all somehow in the same band? It is a bit strange when he thinks about it.

He's about to thank her when she frowns, looking at him and tapping a finger to her lips in thought, grimacing when she forgets she's wearing lipgloss and her finger comes away slightly shiny. Roger ignored the thought of how much he wants to taste that lipgloss, preferably while she was still wearing it.

"I thought you wore glasses." She mused, voice quiet enough that it seems to be mostly to herself, wiping her lipgloss-finger on a napkin. The idea that she'd paid enough attention to notice his sporadic use of his glasses made his heart flutter just a little.

"Not while drumming." He grins, and Ash nods, the look in her eyes like she's filing that information away for later.

"It would ruin the look?" She asks with a smirk, eyes making their way down his body as she takes in his full outfit. Roger crosses his ankles in the stool, puffing out his chest a little in obvious, nonverbal agreement, and her smile widens. "You've got a whole seventies thing going on here," she takes a moment to play with a bit of fringe on his open vest; "it's groovy."

"Yeah, well, we're trying for a classic rock, like Guns 'n' Roses type thing." Roger explains easily, there's a pause, and in the silence he reached out to where the hem of her skirt had flipped up on her thigh. He smoothed it out, but pushed his luck by leaving his hand there. "You look nice, by the way, Ash," and maybe it's the fact that he does know her name, or his hand on her thigh, or even just the compliment, but Ash turns bright pink. She's not sure if he notices, at least she hopes he doesn't. She takes a long sip of her drink, and thanks god for the low lighting of the bar, and after a moment she's pretty sure she's recovered enough to answer.

"Thanks, Oz had a thing before this." She awkwardly explains, and though it's not the full answer - if she had to explain that she did in fact dress up a little to come see the band, she might have to explain why - but she's saved by the proverbial bell when the rest of the band comes to collect Roger for the next set. Roger gives her thigh a cheeky squeeze beneath the table before he's hopping off the stool and heading to where the band was set up, though there was no stage this time.

"Did you make a friend?" Oscar practically coos, poking at her cheek where he can see a blush even in this light. Ash swats him away, unable to stifle her grin. "Aww, you did, didn't you?"

"You're such a dick." Ash slaps his hand away where he goes to pet her on the head, but she's still smiling, and also glad that their table is far enough away that the band can't hear them. "Where were you anyways?" And Oscar's smile becomes genuine.

"I was making friends too." And he sounds a little wistful as he gazes up at the band. Ash follows his gaze and then Brian grins at them Oscar grins back.

"Oscar Demitri Clarke, I forbid you from having a crush on my tutor," Ash hisses, though she's clearly elated at how much she'll be able to tease him about it.

"I make no promises; he's cute and he clearly cares about people so-" Oscar says loftily, but Ash groans, thumping her head into the table as the music starts up.

"You're already planning your imaginary wedding to him, aren't you; you know he's a vegetarian and an animal rights activist?" And at that information Oscar make the single funniest noise Ash has ever heard come out of him, like a hamster being sucked into a pool drain.

"He's perfect." Oscar breathes, before he clears his throat, and he leans down to nudge Ash's shoulder with his own. "Anyways, those in glass houses, biscuit; I saw Roger's hand." And Ash could feel the blush rising on her cheeks again.

"Fine; truce?" She asked, and Oscar's grin was sharp but compliant.

"Truce."

#bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #queen #borhap imagine #ask your destiny to dance fic #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen imagine #queen imagines #the angry lizard writes

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elizabethrobertajones · 6 years

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14x01 watching notes

RIP Kip, we hardly knew ye.

Well hey, returning friends and people who unwittingly clicked on this not knowing exactly what they're in for. Blowing off the dust and starting a new season of Dabb fuckery, which I spent way too long trying to think of a portmanteau for when I already have the episode downloaded

It's 5am, let's DO THIS.

So they start with Dean's Hi I Am A Cop On The Day Before I Retire speech re: hula girls and hawaiian t-shirts which is remarkably prescient of me to have been irrationally upset about that one detail after I binged most of season 13 last night to get me back in the mood. So now I have to elaborate on my one line textpost >.>

Because yes, that is the perfect note to start the season on: Dean thought the good times had rolled, allowed himself to hope, assembled himself a family with mom and step-pop (Bobby counts as a full father but AU Bobby is step-pop), brother, husband, kid... Said kid was promising A World Without Monsters aka Dabb's showrunning tagline for an endgame he teases them. And Lucifer was tucked safely away in an AU with the murderous Michael... And then in a series of events it all came crumbling down and with this amount of goodness in his grasp, he gave up what even when the real Michael was hounding him for it, he couldn't before.

Because in season 13 it is beyond obvious that Dean is tired, an Old Hunter, the best of his game but ready to bow out on that note, and yet for him it's not a matter of stepping back and letting someone else handle it because when Michael and Lucifer were involved, it was beyond personal. He and Sam only EXIST because Lucifer and realMichael wanted them to. And so there was no way this trouble would come to someone else's door, when it was the nasty angel on his shoulder and the devil on Sam's and we have Nougat as their collective responsibility who's the nexus of it all anyway.

Eeee the Road So Far text is glowy grace colour on a dark blue background. I'm JIZED for the title card.

Goodness, the Road So Far is a weird journey because we see Jack being all useful and magic and then callbacks to 13x01 and 2 where he was a messed up 2 day old and Dean just wanted to murder him.

I haven't outlined any expectations for this episode or even this recap but I suddenly realise that I should probably be wondering how much DeanCas we're gonna get in it, and this rage against Jack is subtextually motivated, for sure, but for me the first 6 episodes of Dean's grief arc were wonderful character stuff but removed from the main plot and therefore in my head I keep boxing them off like a bubble season, like 10x01-3 are, and I legit wasn't even expecting to SEE content from them in the recap, because brilliant as they are I sort of just forgot they were a part of this season despite watching them yesterday. The season for me became so much the Jack And Mary Search that this hiccup at the start didn't meet the requirements to be in season 13 :P

They're just That Time Dean Was Really Sad About Cas Then He Came Back And They Were Cowboys

Oh good there was "everybody we've lost" and then a recap of Cas dying and then - oh, we're recapping plot again? Er... everybody? Dean? Who else? DEAN?

this was the thinly veiled subtext of that line anyway since Dean waved off Mary and made it all about Cas anyways but. Yikes, editing team.

Jesus I watched season 13 yesterday and I forgot about Asmodeus. You know what, this is pre-coffee AND the 2 types of anti-brain fog medication I gobble in the morning.

But he's that much of a useless lump

Also too much Lucifer nipple on screen pre-coffee. Ick.

Nice recapping of Not The Levitating Fight.

NOW

Stock photo Nyoom of the season!! Hi Baby! You aren't in this episode because Eugenie said the car wasn't being used this season

Sam's got his Vengeance Eyes on but he's all scruffy and grown up so I trust him 10000% to get the job done.

OW. FUCK. OW. OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. GOOD USE OF INTERSTITIAL MUSIC

Why were you even listening to Dean's tapes if they fuck you up that badly? IS THIS YOUR VENGEANCE PLAYLIST? I'VE BEEN WAITING 10 YEARS

Actually, I haven't, I binged 4-5-6 as one unit after thinking the show was cancelled during the writers' strike but the point is that Sam and his ipod in 4x01 is immediately in my head because he was listening to his own music and being a hipster douche, but now he is not on demon blood he has not installed an ipod dock because he's GETTING DEAN BACK, DAMMIT but at the same time he's also realising that this means a heavy toll that the only driving music in the car is Dean's stuff...

Oh no, this must be the guy from the SDCC clip we hadn't seen because Osric Chau is banned forever for illegally uploading them all for us in the past, and all I know is that Deanchael is going to Fuck Him Up and I feel very bad for him

*raises my mug to Osric* I'm sure you tried, dude. And thanks for the previous years.

Hi Deanchael. I noticed in a promo pic that his tie has that sacred geometry type pattern on it which is a detail I made a mental note to type out literally anywhere in the like month between there and here and did not so here it is at a hopefully appropriate place.

Based on every other scene setting detail I suspect that this faithful man is actually still within the USA because this is literally the cabin set they re-use for everything. The spoilers made it sound like Deanchael was globe trotting to raise his army but now I see what's around us... Yeah no he's as focused on the US as every other big bad before.

Anyway they really specifically chose this prayer to Allah because of how pointed it was about being only for Allah and how he was the best, so I'm assuming Deanchael is here to be like yo God's gone and I'm your last chance of faith

Like just ruin his day and he got up at like 4am or whatever the first prayer is to do it and all

I hope, like, no offence to any Muslim viewers or anything >.> They sure play fast and loose with a lot of this stuff because Christian cultures are full of bitter non-believers raised in the culture and looking to kick up at the big guy in the sky, which is not an impression I get that Islam is as used to cultural flippancy, regardless of personal beliefs of residents of predominately Muslim countries and cultures. I'm not 100% sure though, because the closest link I've got is my raised-Christian Iranian friend who applies Christian eye-rolling to the issues with being in Iran and heathen so I still get that perspective of middle fingers up at Organised Religion from our discussions about it all... anyway big diversion, still waiting for coffee to kick in :P I just swallowed the last of it so I can only get more jittery from here on out!

It's so fuckin weird to see Dean's face confidently reciting verse in Arabic

I mean you don't need the hat, sir. I get it. It's not you in there.

Well so far anyway he's playing on the fact that the guy does pray to god and his angels.

Lol @ this man guessing his way through God AND Gabe to Deanchael's annoyance that he's the 3rd guess and he has to clarify that he's the better one.

Man, Gabriel worked on his reputation. I wouldn't have been able to tell you who Michael was because there wasn't even a kid in my class with that name when I was age 4 busy portraying Gabriel in a nativity play with full impish glee that the real deal would have been proud of.

Uhoh things aren't looking good for Jamil D: Asking for peace and love is good, you funky little hippy.

Is Deanchael implying that the Syria insurgency is the route to peace? I honestly don't know enough about the American foreign policy politics to know what sort of stance this is though from a liberal leaning show (I mean come on Bobo is a card-carrying socialist, I've seen it on Twitter :P), though to an outside viewer well aware of how fucked up it all is should this have been said on a British program, this is a vast over-simplification.

But we know Michael's main traits are Likes War and then also Warmonger and of course, spoilin' for a fight. So this may be a personal judgement and as much as they're bringing politics into their show I'm just backing right on out and going with this :P That he thinks it is more honourable to stay and fight and that Jamil is a hypocrite for not sticking around to work for peace actively.

Oh Jamil hooked up with a woman called Darleen. He is FOR SURE in America.

It's so funny to me that Deanchael can fly anywhere and they could have set this anywhere but it still ends up being a wooden cabin in the US. This has to turn out to be a lead to follow with a news report about the poor guy or else this is just hysterical that they couldn't be arsed to mock up even a hint of another country :P

He knew all this about Jamil beforehand so I have to assume he's really just here to drag him.

Man, that throw was GOOD. I'm assuming they either spent all summer playing with wires and stunts or else they've gone back to the drawing board on all this flinging people around business.

"A better world" oh we are so on for this World Without Monsters malarky still. This lines up with the clip from Dean they opened on so well - the dark irony of he and Michael working on the same project but from different angles. Dean wants to sort out monsters and bad things so he can go on a beach, aka his version of paradise, and Mikey wants to smush all the sinners, and clean up the planet, which is HIS version of paradise.

HECKIN GOOD TITLE CARD

now photoshop those wings on everyone

I LIKE SCRUFFY BULLET MAKER FROM THE AU.

He's like so happy to be in a world where you just casually have resources.

Meanwhile poor Maggie has become the de facto nurse and hates it.

Ugh the Bunker is a place where people just show up who yell "Soup's on!"

In my redshirt betting pool, Soups On is the first guy who dies.

Promo sceeeeene

I'm so happy Sam and Mary are doing this together. Last season Sam was so upset that Dean got to have a relationship with her, and he had missed out, but without Dean around - no offence to him - Sam and Mary may be focused on FINDING him but this is the work they also need to do for their relationship to start to ground it in something real. It's taken this long with all the separations, but remember that Mary also worked through some of her issues about Sam only last season in the AU with 6 month old Jack. And if she needed that sort of reminder and relationship to warm her up for Sam, her suddenly-grown 6 month old, then there were still a LOT of underlying issues that dated back to the start for her to overcome. Hopefully this puts them on a level playing field, though there's a new conflict brewing for them, with Mary's determined optimism vs Sam's pessimism, born of that depression from last season that never really got treated or resolved, they just managed to power past its current main triggers. Of course now it all just shifts in a Deanward direction.

I love how Ketch has been punted to London, at Buckleming discretion to drag him back. This wasn't even Bobo punting him out the door, and he and Buckleming have a violent back and forth over favourite characters, started in 9x06 with Bobo's very first episode when he banished Professor Morrison forever.

MARY TRIES MOMMING SAM TO GO TO BED

THEN SCRUFFY GUN GUY IS LIKE "CHIEF"

Chieeeeeeef.

Sam runs the shooow here and I love it. He's their badass MoL hunter leader, a scruffy saviour from another world.

Given Sam is wearing the same shirt and jacket in the promo pics I'm guessing he does not sleep, though I hope he gets to eat the soup.

"Maggie can you hack the traffic cams?" "um. no."

I love and support Maggie. She is a normal person who happened to live in apocalypse world and she just wants to flirt with the guy from the Gas n Go who probably hasn't talked to her since that got blown up and Jack attacked him over her... I mean, this is better than the AU world but maybe she just wants to be normal? Did anyone ask Maggie what she wanted??

SAM. You can eat your soup and run things at the same time! Get back here and eat that soup!

"yes sir"

Goodness, this is wonderful. Sam's doing what he was born to do, and then not because that was leading a friggin demon army, but then yes because he's got inherent leadership traits that he defers to Dean all the time because, well, he's there, and he's big bro.

Look, sometimes you need big bro to murder Satan's ass for you forever, but you also should be calling the shots. There's a balance here, where Dean can be the older brother, but Sam can be the boss. Work/life balance. Dean's got your back but you command an army of hunters, like we've all been salivating over since like season 8 when they first said the MoL ran the Bunker as the hub of operations dictating stuff to trusted hunters and the like.

Of course, if Sam is the Bobby here, then who is the AUBobby? I hope we see what's up with that soon, I've been wanting them to bristle those beards in an alpha way at each other for months, because AUBobby was their leader before Sam because Sir Chief.

"Sam."

"i'm good"

*mothering intensifies*

"i'm GOOD"

*mothering intensifies*

"How's Jack"

You aren't used to being mothered and it's murdering me completely to my soul. Dean's got SO MUCH MOTHERING all through the show compared to you. He even sees Jody as a mom friend while you crush on her like crazy so you haven't even got that!!!!

Because Chief Sam is the boss of this lot but at the SAME TIME he's getting all these soft tender mom moments he's never got to have before. It's a wonderful balance of nuances to his current life. He's overworked but surrounded by a supportive care team that respects him, gives him soup, and holds his hand, literally in Mary's case. And yet he's the scruffy macho competent boss who knows how to call all these shots, deputise, set up missions, but still knows more than them, how to do traffic cams, I'm sure years of lore over most of these hunters who only learned to deal with what got thrown at them in the apocalypse by trial and error because when do they get lore books? Mary and Bobby and other pre-apocalypse hunters would be few and far between to offer competent training to a populace suddenly all turned hunter.

Oh, AUBobby is beating up Jack. Perfect.

AAAH DIRECTED BY TJW

WAS NOT ADEQUATELY HOLDING ONTO SEAT

WARN A GIRL

I love finally seeing the training room but I'm deeply conscious that this is where Put Up Your Dukes starts and I can't get that fan fic out my mind so I'm just like, Jack, don't lie on the floor, your dads have banged there.

I'm so happy that AUBobby is nurturing a grandson, because this is the difference between him and Bobby - that our Bobby had that with Sam n Dean, but AUBobby never did. Though he DID have Mary Campbell to crush on, I doubt it would have softened him and rounded out the harsh places in his soul the same way raising Sam and Dean did, because he had an unrequited love and she hadn't gotten over John, while this recently widowed Mary Winchester actually has made better progress just because of the circumstances of the loss. Anyways Jack has no preexisting history with Bobby so there's nothing weird about him and AUBobby stepping into a nurturing relationship, that Sam n Dean would find uncomfortable in a way, given their relationship with Bobby. And Jack gets yet another strong figure to teach and guide him.

AUBobby looks slim and stands tall compared to Bobby, which I'm largely putting down to posture, and not being drowned in layers. I like this difference - Bobby almost never voluntarily dressed in 1 layer, but AUBobby has a more military slant, and this training sergeant routine with Jack is a good fit to show a difference in his character, that isn't surly old Bobby behind his desk, that he's involved in teaching Jack to fight, rather than helping hunters with lore and swigging whiskey.

I'd assume given the lack of availability in his AU, he's considerably less alcohol dependant, so this is a very different character thing. If Bobby were doing this training, and nothing else was different, he'd be taking a breather to pour them both a whiskey as he imparts wisdom.

Demon in nice shoes and dark sunglasses at night to indicate that yes I am a demon I have black eyes :P I assume this is a demon anyway not just because of this detail but pre-season spoilers

Ah hearing Cas's name is enough to make my heart pick up. MY GUY!

But then, "Castiel, darling"

Stop trying to make Good Omens happen, it's not going to happen. You can't just "darling" up to an angel and expect that good good romance. Crowley took years to wear Cas down and Cas never actually LIKED him, down to their last real interaction where Cas was just "WTF???? LEAVE ME TO ROT AND DIE" when Crowley saved him in 12x12

God I miss that

"Oh god."

Same, buddy.

You do, however, realise this is your first words of the season gifset line, though?

Someone ought to write to Dabb and inform him that people make first and last word gifsets and to be more careful.

Especially if in the last episode at the end of the season, Cas's last word is "Dean"

Anyway Cas has said 1 line and I can tell he's on top form. Unlike 10x01 he's in a hipster hogroast joint.

This demon, with dark black sunglasses inside at night (douchebag) just ordered a coffee, black. WE GET IT, ENOBY DEMENTIA DARKNESS RAVEN WAY, YOU ARE GOFFIC AND IT'S AS BLACK AS YOUR SOUL

LOL Cas is sitting under the JACK'S sign.

Demon douche sits under Schultz, which is the death beer. And lemme tell you, TJW is well-versed in this. So well-versed in it he's sat Cas in front of a classic El Sol flyer with the subtle touch required to tell Dean that Cas is his dream girl. He knows his shit.

This seriously seems to be implying that the rise of hipster food joints is an effort from Hell to spread chaos on earth

Cas sitting with his back to the fire is such an interesting visual, but this is just a note to self for later to guess what it all means

THIS FUCKIN DEMON TOOK HIS BLACK SUNGLASSES OFF TO SHOW OFF HIS BLACK EYES

Dabb is so good at incidental characters, and making me hate this guy for nuanced nonsensical reasons is amazing. This is... art...

This is a callback to 5x08 and Dean ranting about hating procedural cop shows then him and sam taking their sunglasses on and off at night every time they made a pun and I'm 100% convinced since 12x01 and Cas busting through that Mystery Spot sign that Gabriel has been subtly influencing events

Okay so we know exactly what is written on demon bathroom walls. I'm taking that as a sideways confirmation that Cain knew full well that Dean had his Colette because he'd seen crude doodles of them doing it

Anyway douchedemon just outright told Cas that all the demons assume he and Dean in particular are banging. Not that Cas bangs Winchesters, as some have implied, without knowing all the details. They've narrowed this info down.

I assume this is also in the Winchester Dossier that Barthamus studied from before meeting them. I love that demons probably do have a filing cabinet somewhere of all the notable assholes they run into in their work, and the Winchesters take up a whole cabinent, but the refresher file summarising them in a paragraph if you don't have time is like, Sam: Lazy boyking, will stab you. Dean: fucking Castiel, will stab you.

Cas doesn't even move an eyebrow. Incredible.

Cas rarely gets hit with these compared to Dean in the history of the show, and Dean is full of bluster or anger or confusion or alarmed eyebrows. Cas is like... no. fuck you. i'm party!Cas, I have my shit in order.

Though this is from a demon. It's an entirely different thing when Heaven is involved, as they also have their dossier on the winchesters.

Sam: abomination. will banish you. Dean: fucking Castiel. Will stab you.

*loud coffee slurp* "what's in it for moi?

Cas, stab him. Stab him now. This is not worth the information. You can find another guy.

I'm starting to think Cas with his back to the flames is his unwitting danger from this hellish hogroast place.

They use Shultz beer containers to hold the sauces and menus on the table. DEEEEATH

Cas speaking slower and threatening to burn him to ash "right here and right now"

this is a gifset that will get a lot of notes from thirsty Cas fans

Whaaaaaaaa the entire joint turned out to be owned by and filled with demons who would ever have guessed based on one open fire and that metal hogs head from the promo pics :P

Stop hurting him!!!! Misha can't stage fight! This is really unfair!!

I wonder how the poor new awesome fight coordinator took to Misha

"let's just... um..." "hide him behind all these demons?" TJW suggests The fight guy nods sadly.

Aww Sister Jo got back to work. Good for her.

Sister Jo has no fear and can stroll down a shady alley counting her money

*t-shirt meme* One fear: *flappy wing noises*

"Hey Jo."

GHOLY SHIT TRUE FORMS TYHUEOJDSHGFSH DS TRUE FORMS WE SEE WHAT ANGELS SEEE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SCIENCE HAS CAUGH T UP TO THE DIVINE, SPN CAN FINALL Y SHOW US WHAT ANGELS SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Holy shit I want the gif of this as my blog header. That's shitting amazing.

Burning HALO

ALL HIS CHI POINTS LIT UP EVEN WHEN IT MAKES IT LOOK SILLY TO HAVE HIS CALVES GLOWING

I wonder if this is what Danneel sees when she looks at Jensen all the time

"Why would he say yes to you?"

"Love"

I'm dying and I am dead. I gather that Dean is 100% absent from this episode, but that one comment puts him front and centre and I am in paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain. Everything happening around Michael and because of Michael is because Dean loves his peeps. From Sam staying up hacking traffic cams on vampires to Cas getting his ass handed to him by demons.

I bet Cas looks like that single glowstick he had on in the cave when angels look at him.

Party!Cas

I ruined the fun

Jensen gently touches Danneel's face and that's just rude because that's all his tenderness for his wife being turned into a scary villain move between Deanchael and Jo. Don't do this to them!!!

Oooof Deanchael pulls from Dean's memory of Anael about what she was like, describing her in the most Cas-like terms, then cuts through her hilarious bull about wanting handbags (this is so meta about sticking middle fingers in the faces of people who think she's a well-paid beard) and then starts telling her she wants love and a family.

Deanchael has used the word "love" twice in a scene and it's horrifying to see the word come out of his face, when Dean is so guarded. Now Deanchael is just looking through Sister Jo and analysing what she wants - and she's playing this game very well but this move of his might still beat her. Because ow. Telling her she wants belonging and family. When she's very much established as a Cas mirror by the reminder she ran away from Heaven and doesn't want to play by their rules.

"It's very, very human of you. And so disappointing." Did all those times Lucifer sucked her grace bring her close to feeling it? To the point of permanent damage? I only ask because I know another guy this might apply to.

I wonder how much Deanchael is projecting based on conjectures because he knows Cas through Dean's eyes.

"But if they're all these sad, lost, fallen things..." Ya, that's Cas too for suresies

SAM AND JACK SAM AND JACK

Jack sitting quietly in meditation, clearly unsettled. A parallel to 13x23 when Dean came rushing in to him having a nightmare, now Sam is having a crack at parenting the boy.

Jack lying about how things were fine. Nougat. Hon. You're human now. But not that good at being human. Sam knows your tells :P

Sam interrupted mid pep-talk by Mary with some nonsense.

Jack is always so ugh... accepting and kinda flippant. He knows parental figures can be disappointing and get dragged away mid peptalk by some business.

Which he's apparently not involved in. I guess after we see him going on hunts with them in 13x23, he's grounded until he goes through basic training so not only is he useless to help with his powers to find Dean, but he can't even do the easy hunter stuff because he's just a kid.

Aww my poor baby Nougat :( He's so angsty. He's a TEEN. Lookit him! All growed up!

Uuugh I guess this is Nick. "I didn't talk to him. I can barely look at him."

What I'm getting from this sequence mainly is the sound of Triss's rage at the Bunker layout.

*Mary pats Sam's shoulder supportively and walks off*

You're on your own, Chief.

Ugh I am not ready for this bull if it's Nick but I have to keep watching to be sure :P

Ew it is. EW. What does Mark P HAVE on you all.

At least TJW is shooting the heck out of this to show us how gross Sam finds this all.

Sam's shadow falling over Nick.

I really want to know how this bullshit happened. And yet. No, not really.

Oh gross AND they're making Mark P take off his shirt. The nipple I didn't want to see in the Road So Far was not warning enough.

Pre-season ugh speculation was that whatever Crowley did to Nick made him stronger and more permanent apparently even than Lucifer being stabbed out of him.

So yeah anyway I guess Jack is in part also sulking about this and I'm with him, because Sam being pulled away from their pep talk time to deal with Gross Man Associated With My Father But Not Actually Him Because Biologically I Am The Son Of A Non-Historical President...

Making Sam the one who has to care for Nick is utterly cruel. He has so many deputies. Maybe this is just his personal fear that Nick's still a bit Lucifery. Maybe he just sees this as a gross burden, a manifestation of the ongoing trauma from Lucifer, that even when he's dead he lingers.

Plus, it's giving us some reassurance that an angel can be ousted from a vessel without killing them, to throw some options into the Deanchael pot.

Still. Nick. Really.

I bet Jack is sulking because some little cosmic part of him regenerating deep down in his core, that one lil gold glowy chi point in his big toe, knows that Eugenie forgot his name at SDCC and called him "Nick" and this shit from your creator just weighs on you. Jack is an entity beyond Buckleming and yet born from them, and this is what they beget: forgetting their own child in favour of this old carcass.

bitter? moi? *sips coffee noisily*

Actually, that's not true but I need some tea because I'm sulky so I'm taking this ragebreak to go make some and then I will sip it noisily in Nick's direction. :P

Everything henceforth is under the jurisdiction of hot drink no.2

"I don't understand how Lucifer could die and I could live"

I hate you

Eurgh, I bet you anything Dabb pulled a Buckleming and just took the post-it note they gave him when he asked, er, HOW does this happen? and transliterated it into dialogue because 1: all the writers shade Buckleming all the time because I can literally see it ooze out of Perez and Yockey and Bobo's writing but this is the showrunner, guyses. 2: it's such a dumbass convoluted explanation that it only burns out the archangel but if you non-fatally stab it then the guy is fine.

Which begs the question of how the fuck is Gabriel because if we get anything good from this, that fucker is in one hell of an interesting vessel situation compared to Old Nick.

PS: I am not sure how culturally saturated this is so we are all clear that Old Nick is a historically used name for Satan and his name has been a joke since 5x01 thanks to Kripke, and now we have to actually deal with that.

And then Nick is actually sympathetic to how Sam feels looking at him. I guess Mark P really wants us to feel sympathetic to his new dude.

"And Michael... did he tell Lucifer anything about his plan?"

Listen, we NEED acknowledgement that for a month or so Lucifer and AUMichael roadtripped together to assemble from their AU the key of solomon, the fruit of the tree of life, and the blood of a most holy man.

There was a lengthy downtime while people settled in and Dean was allowed to think the Good Times were rolling, and all that time, the weirdest brother roadtrip show ever was going on in the AU, mad enough that I would actually find it hilarious to watch despite enduring Mark P as a result of it.

SAM DOES NOT DESERVE THIS

He's not allowed to rest, ever.

I bet this is douchdemon phoning him from Cas's phone.

"Hello Sam!" says a perky voice down the phone. It's INCREDIBLE how unlikeable this demon is making himself. He's actually my favourite character now.

Oh no, Nougat is wearing a different grey shirt. He's really depressed. Someone help him.

"He just told you he was a demon?" "he seemed proud of it too"

Sam hates him as well. I can't wait for Sam to come scowl at him.

"What do we do?" Maggie asks, completely wide-eyed. Oh honey. Poor, innocent, sheltered Maggie. What were you doing all apocalypse until we caught up with you? You aren't hardened, you're adorable.

AUBobby and Rufus (his gun)

"I'm coming too!" YAY JACK. Your father is in trouble, he's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days, but what a different world all the rest is

"I'm not as strong, but I can help," he says, looking tiny beside Sam, bruised up from AUBobby's training, a single layer to make him look even smaller...

(we do not talk enough about how all these jackets are a sort of alpha being shoulder plumping thing like when you make yourself look huge to scare off a mountain lion but that's 100% what this is)

IT MADE JACK SMILE yey he's allowed to feel useful! Pop is allowing him to go on a mission to rescue Dad who was looking for Papa when this all went down.

Grandpapa is not so pleased, because AUBobby has been measuring how useful Jack is and I feel like lil Nougat bab is going to do something mildly heroic for Cas or else get pasted for his ongoing character development for the season...

"He needs this, Bobby."

Dear LORD does he not quit? We don't even know his name? "Are you sure I can't get you anything... hot... or black?" FUck OFF

No wonder by the promo pic Cas looked so utterly done. This is exhaustingly annoying for him. Cas's personal hell is just irritating people. A line of Crowleys and Lucifers and this jerkwad chattering at him.

And yet Dean runs his mouth all the time and Cas is in luuuurve

Oh lordy are we really doing this coffee metaphor now? "Coffee has no effect on me" (but he once acquired the taste, and it was a core part of him being human and learning to human in the opening shot of 9x06 for him as his metaphor for how he was learning)

"me either *sluuuurp* not any more. But it's like saltwater taffy or infants. I just like the taste."

"I'm just being a good host like mother would have wanted"

Cas stops mid eyeroll to eyeroll HARDER at meeting ANOTHER demon with mommy issues. Like, please. Don't. I like Rowena now but can we NOT.

Party!Cas of Dabb era is my favourite iteration of Cas by a country mile.

"Why are you using me as bait?" "it's kind of what you're for"

Oh Cas. Now he's just the damsel in distress, which I guess is a step up from being an attack dog, but still isn't that great for the ego stroking about his role and use within the Winchester family, an ongoing source of stress for him, this reminds us.

Cas's faith in Sam is wonderful. like, as soon as douchmon says he needs something from Sam, Cas just SMIRKS like, OH BUDDY. BUDDDYYY. No, I'm not gonna say it. I'm just - "you think he'd make a deal with you?" I'm ... I don't laugh as a rule but inside? Hilarious.

"Somebody asked me what it was that I wanted" You know, I think Deanchael is INCITING people. he's not killing any of them, just using the revelation of his appearance to motivate them - moving Sister Jo to do what she wants, which is to re-organise Heaven with the ideas she had as a button pushing functionary... visiting world leaders and holy men, and this douche...

To what end, though? Chaos? This is a roundabout way to make a better world.

"Destroying, Drinking, Defiling, you know, the 3 Ds" they absolutely have posters up in Hell with this on for the newbies to learn.

We've seen Heaven's staffroom, I DEMAND to see the break room in Hell, with all its lurid Destiel smut doodled on the walls and so on

Anyway it's a hell of a question, pun intended, because demons have no real purpose, even the named baddies have largely been slaves to someone else's will (Lucifer or Crowley) and Crowley could not have answered that question from the start of season 6 through to the moment he chose to sacrifice himself... I don't think any of TFW 2.0 or Bunker Squad could answer it fully. Cas can't, and that's the question that's been bugging him since 9x06 -

EPHRAIM Shh-shh-shhh. It'll be over soon. I'll take the pain away.

CASTIEL I want to live.

EPHRAIM But as what, Castiel? As an angel? or a man?

and it's what his entire crisis in season 10 was over... Who ARE you Castiel? What do you WANT?

Dean wants a Beach Vacation Ending. He figured it out and as narrative punishment, he's Deanchael. No one else has sorted it out, though, but Sam got close - he had his pizza dream and was immediately punished with being eaten by vampires and resurrected by Lucifer and all that drama... Sam's work isn't done. Though his growth has taken a huge leap, now he has to figure out what he wants in this NEW setting, and we're only just MEETING Chief Sam in this iteration, so he's got a lot of work to do.

"I gave it a good think and I worked out exactly what I wanted. Everything."

Deanchael definitely is planning for this, so watch out buddy.

SAM DRIVING, MOM IN SHOTGUN

RED ALERT

Uhoh Sam's snapped because of the optimism Mary exudes. Yep, he really was nearly at the last straw in their earlier convo when he scoffed at her attempts to cheer him up.

Look, she's trying to mom you with no experience except adopting Jack. Work with her.

Sam is spiralling with the depression, this time all the bad things that could have happened to Dean and how they're never going to find him, throwing these horrible scenarios at Mary to stop her trying to comfort him.

"I know. I know he's out there, scared and alone." She sees lil 4 year old Dean. Because, I mean, that is the soul Dean bears to her when they have moments sometimes. And her optimism is a wall against thinking of her toddler in this scenario.

"I know. I know he might not come back. Never think I don't know that. But I can't - I have to think about the good, Sam. Because if I don't, I will drown in the bad." I wonder who that directly relates to who is currently driving this car.

I really hope this is a bit of vindication for Mary - or redemption to the eyes of the people who don't like her - that she does care, and she's spelling out her approach to all this. In the start of season 12 when she was trying to keep afloat she used a lot of optimism and furious paddling on the surface, because she has been doing that her whole life. When she was being raised a hunter, when she was a housewife with no clue what she was doing, a mom but he marriage beginning to fall apart... And then thrust into the present day, and it's 360 degrees of combat and loss and sadness and a ill-advised hook up with Ketch... Furious doggy paddling on the surface.

"For Dean's sake, I can't do that. We can't do that." And she shows that she is prioritising Dean, that she's driven and motivated to keep going FOR him.

Come on, give her a chance.

Nyooom.

Meanwhile in the Jack and Bobby truck, Jack is the one angsting and Bobby is the one driving.

Jack is one years old and not legally old enough to drive.

Bobby peptalks him with the reminder that when Jack had his grace he did hero things for these people, which is why he can ride shotgun, and even if he feels useless now, they'll have his back, that he has earned this squad even if he can't be as awesome as he used to.

Maggie is like, I'm getting a reaction shot... Am I going to develop feelings for Jack? That would be super weird, he's one years old. I hope no one is implying this even though I'm in a bunch of scenes getting character focus.

Eeeeeeee Sam trusts Mary with the demon killing knife. I am sure they don't call it Ruby's knife to her and he has never, ever told her about that time that thing happened with Ruby.

This fucker had his back turned for Sam to enter just so he could turn around dramatically. God he's repellent.

An extra was hired to pat Sam down. What a job.

"The shoulders. The hair! You are my Beyonce!" I mean, same. Except. Cas is Agent Beyonce so this fuckhead has totally misread this situation.

This gives Sam a moment to look over at Cas and Cas silently says, yes I know he's a total fuckhead, I've been dealing with this all day. I'm so sorry bro, can you just stab him so we can go home and follow a different lead. I don't even care what this one knows, I can't handle him another minute.

"I'm more embarrassed than I am hurt" I understand this to my core, and I'm so sorry, Cas.

"Kipling. Kip for short."

"Cool. Kip. I'm here." Sam being exactly as "fuck you" as I wanted towards Kip.

Sam is now standing with his head in an El Sol sign. TJW what are you up to bud?

Oh no Jack and Maggie got caught skulking. Sam and Cas have the same "my boy!" reaction when they see Cas.

Maggie is here too, you monsters.

But Kip has missed Mary and AUBobby

"It's just late capitalism, you understand" Yeah, and fuck you Kip.

How is Kip so irritating that he can make tapping a stool somehow the most obnoxious thing a man could do? He's WONDERFULLY well-cast. I love this actor. He's chewing scenery and it's incredible.

"What do you want?" Ow, Sam being twisted into asking the same thing Deanchael asked Kip

"Ass-modeus Kentucky Fried" listen you are still the worst but that drew a sympathetic smile and I hate it and I hate you.

Oh, Sam just Sammed something from that side glance, random demon side-eye. Oooh. Oooooooh.

But yeah, Kip asking for the "Crowley Deal" as if it's a package that can be bought from the Winchesters, and not something that Crowley wormed his way into via much back and forth power plays and drama. The Winchester have always had a back and forth with Hell, and since Crowley there have been a lot of demons, like Bart, trying to figure out what exactly it WAS that they all had. But someone has to be in charge, and the Winchesters are the top dog destined hunters with their fingers in all the world-saving pies, so clashes come naturally. Approaching them like this, first Bart, now this douchenozzle, is meta, presumptuous, overstepping what builds naturally... An attempt to leapfrog to the end where the equilibrium is established.

But Crowley had time to build a long game. These new pretenders are working in a world where the Winchesters' actions have devastated Heaven and Hell alike, and are, like Mary, just trying to keep afloat on the whole thing.

"We never gave Crowley that deal." Because yes, that's how it seemed to play out, and from outsider eyes that's how it may have looked... But each and every interaction came about naturally through the plot, there was no wrangling it. That's just how the Winchesters and Crowley ended up.

And that hole can't be filled by someone just leaping into the chair and asking for it.

Though it is nice if Motown Meats is the new seat of Hell on Earth instead of the outdated exterior asylum interior castle dungeon look Crowley set up.

"You're no Crowley. I know that. So do they." I think that was what Sam Sammed out of the demons, and also true, and ALSO is this the boyking accidentally exerting himself, knowing what's good for Hell? I always get a lil tingle in my thumbs when Sam gets too involved in knowing what's up with Hell.

Holy shit Kipling was a Mongolian warlord who rode with Genghis Khan in life. PLEASE survive this episode, I want to hate you all season. PLEAAAASE I BEG YOU.

Oh my god this insecure whinging asshole, chowing down on the scenery like there's no tomorrow. "I'D EAT YOUR HEART" *turns to weepy and quiet* "before I show you who I really am..."

This is Eddie Redmayne in Jupiter Ascending levels of scenery eating. He's gonna pick up a barstool and take a bite out of it now.

Sam is doing this all unarmed, which is something to remember, because this is the fucker who talked his way into killing the Alpha Vamp while MOSTLY unarmed for a majority of that chat.

Sam Fucking Winchester.

AUBOBBY AND RUFUS!!!!

Also mary.

But AUBobby gets a slow mo for Rufus shooting demons.

HOLY SHIT MARY'S SLOW MO

I am pregnant

MARY THROWING SAM THE KNIFE

TJW was like this fight is too fast, my guy. We need to slow it down. You're so good at your job no one's gonna see what happened unless we go slow mo.

he and the fight guy high five

"Aw, balls."

Hey, Nougat tried. He's got a squishy hero centre.

Looks like he weighs nothing and now he's human he goes down in one punch. Owie.

"Here take this. You know how to use it?" "Uh! Stab them with the pointy end!?" "pretty much"

Maggie you precious girl why are you HERE. Why is Soups On or Gnarly Gun Guy not here?

Cas you fucking damsel in distress

Fight guy is like "uuuuh do I have to"

Misha is like "I'm good here, tbh"

SAM FUCKING WINCHESTER

(Aw, Kip's dead, he was fun)

"ENOUGH"

YES SIR

"There will be NO NEW KING OF HELL"

You are gonna get demon minions like fucking ducklings you ass

"Not ever. And if anyone wants the job, you can come through me" Sam is technically immortal so long as Rowena is alive and vice versa you know. Also, how long is he planning on defending Hell? Ever?

I'm stalling from how much I have to scream about how badass Sam was throwing down that declaration that he's now essentially the trial a pretender to the throne has to pass to take the job.

Because if I was a demon... FUCK NO would I want to tangle with this fucker.

Sam's file, updated: Current King Of Hell. Will Kill You. AVOID.

Sam is fucking terrifying. I love it. He scared demons out of their meatsuits. Sam walking into a room is now a reason to eject and abort mission. God. This guy.

Remember in season 1 when demons were scary? Oo er this isn't our sort of thing... halp.

Now Sam looks them in the eye and is like, fuck off. I'm scarier than any of you.

"That's what I thought"

Cas is literally giving you the reverse look of in 4x16 when you marched in and fried Alastair's brain.

SAM GOT A NEW SHIRT thank god.

I should amend: he did all this wearing blue plaid with orange stripes.

Sam Fucking Winchester.

The BMoL definitely didn't have the right birth certificate because that's his legal middle name.

Sam n Caaaaas my GUYS. I hope this is the 10x01 convo but, like, not. Flip flip flip those pancakes, Dabb my guy.

Cas, hon, you're still so beat up you have blood trails coming out of your nose. There's not really caring about your meatsuit because it heals eventually, but there's also washing your fucking face, because Sam's had time to change his shirt and get a beer so what were you doing?

Probably staring at a picture of Dean on his phone and sighing.

Anyway he's here to ask how Sam is, rather than care about himself. Symbolism.

"I've been better. And worse." Worse is 10x01.

Or 4x10's flashbacks. For sure those are the worstest.

Though, this time you are the king of hell and you're wearing a dark shirt and I don't think you have thought this through.

The most well-meaning accidental king of hell ever.

Sam and Cas share the "to find Dean I'd do anything" look. Be CAREFUL. Cas is literally choosing to wear hubris on his face because he feels bad about his fuck up with going to Kip.

Mary! Casual Mary chilling in the kitchen!!

Although, with everyone in the bunker, these rooms are taking on different meanings. The people are chasing out the heavy shadows and ghosts of all the oppressive silences Sam and Dean have filled these corners with.

Aw it's Mary and AUBobby. I was half-hoping we'd have her giving beer to Jack, but I guess we need to set up the forward momentum on their relationship for this season.

"Not bad today, old man." "you too, Sunshine."

You do realise that Mary is sitting in the exact same spot as where Dean was when he called Cas "Sunshine" You do know that right I mean you KNOW? This is TJW, he knows. He's a Destiel Shipper of the highest order.

Cas pops in on Jack, staring at his busted up face in a mirror, now filling more Winchester angst tropes to make up for lost time. "I'm fine," he says without being asked. Because 10x01 or 10x02 was where Cas defined "fine" for Hannah and explained to her it's what humans say when things are really not fine but they can't admit it.

"You did well." "All I did was get punched. In the face."

I love snarky teen Jack.

"To be fair, we all got punched in the face," Cas says, still covered in hubris.

He has a POINT. He has full right to pull the "I should feel more useless than you" card on Jack.

Jack doing the "i'm useless" thing that Cas had to go through when he lost his grace, and Jack was allowed to stay in the Bunker. Is this how Cas would have felt had he not been kicked out?

Jack says Michael's out there and he still feels responsible to stop him. There's a very, very very very ver very weird Hamlet vibe from Jack, being forced into a position of emotional responsibility to kill his uncle, but Cas is his once dead now back and not a ghost father, and Jack couldn't kill Michael and so Dean got possessed... I mean, it's not a neat overlay, but Jack wants to kill an uncle, an AUncle, and I feel like in terms of uncle-killing narratives, AU Michael making off with Dean fits about as well to Hamlet's uncle marrying his mom as we're gonna get... I'd love to see how this shapes out because these family narratives since season 11 are becoming deeply shakespearean in the amount of nonsense going on. This sort of supernatural drama is a modern world way to have this kind of heightened emotion and the stakes you find in Shakespearean tragedies, and to force the sorts of reflection on the world and self... I really really dig it. Watching season 13 yesterday really hit me with this feeling all over and I'm delighted that Jack has this arc because I'm so amused/interested to see where this weirdo Hamlet parallel goes for him.

"I don't have anything." "Oh Jack" thanks Cas that's what I said out loud "you have me. You have all of us. You have your family." *SHOULDER GRASP*

No hug. Fuck off Cas, with your reassuring shoulder grasps. I know that's the language you've been taught but Dabb era is hug era and you suck.

I love that with all of Sam and Mary's doubt and Jack's lack of self worth, it's down to CAS. CASTIEL. CASTIEL WINCHESTER. CASTIEL FUCKING WINCHESTER. PARTY!CAS. to give the actual pep talk of the episode which has ANY conviction behind it. Cas has been fuelled with something MAGNIFICENT since the Empty, and he's turned it up to 11 for Jack here :')

Jack makes the smallest smile, then turns back to his mirror.

Sam opening the door to his bedroom, framed in darkness. 10x01 parallels again - this shot as well as the demon dean one were repeated a few times through the 3 episode arc, and the demon dean one became iconic but Sam did it too, to Dean's room. Now he goes into his own... empties his pockets... he still has the fucking engraved money clip from Tall Tales because Gabriel is not only not dead but telling this entire story for us... He has the phone, that's off, because Dean is not there, not communicating with him, blah blah. And he has the keys to the Impala. Because he's the chief.

Well, the King of Hell. Damn, it took 14 years to get him there. Azazel is fucking spinning in his grave.

Ooh, phonecall! Is it Deanchael? "What do you want?"

Nope, it's Sister Jo! :D She's been standing there ALL NIGHT weighing her options and working out what she wants.

SPIN THAT CHAOS, DEANCHAEL.

Deanchael approaches a vampire, and it's that purity of Purgatory, that just wanna eat that fuelled so much of the badass stuff in season 7 with the Leviathan, everything Dean's struggled with when it comes to the black and white world of killing monsters no problem that dates back to Gordon in 2x03, that draws Deanchael to them. Because this is Dean's safe space with Benny, a real relationship based on a bond forged in pure, kill or be killed, eat or be eaten purgatory. Deanchael has the same inner machinery as Dean, because Michael is the worst version of Dean, engineered to be Dean but without love. Dean as a monster. And so it all leads here... D:

Well this will be fun :D

#14x01 #season 14 spoilers #my stuff #dabb vs cars #HECK

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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🏰👑👑🐲⚔️ DMODT 68 - full draft? Feedback appreciated

Levi wasn't expecting Eren to stay away for longer than a day. He definitely didn't expect a week to pass with Eren refusing to see him. Armin had sought him out two days after Eren's disastrous birthday to inform him that Eren had requested space and time. Then again the following day to inform him that Eren had met with Willy, and though the beta had been present, he refused to discuss what had transpired at the during the meeting, stating that it was Eren's business to share. He did mention Willy had extended his visit for an extra week, and that Eren would be meeting with him again before the alpha left for Marley. Armin's loyalty to Eren was admirable, but Levi fucking hated it. Eren was hurting, having never allowed himself the proper time to sit down and think through Zeke's death. Maybe they'd rushed things. No. They'd definitely rushed things. The last few weeks of Eren's pregnancy had essentially been like a heat for his mate. While he'd pushed to get things done, he'd also used sex to escape reality. Levi knew it. He knew it and he still let it happened because Eren had come back to him. He'd chosen him. After everything, his omega had come to him for assistance, and he'd offered up his dick. Perhaps this fight was a blessing in disguise. A spacer between them before things could grow worse... So why the fuck was it so fucking hard to function without his omega by his side? Having nothing but time to think, Levi knew he'd pushed Eren too hard on his birthday, and deeply regretted snapping as Eren was preparing to leave, yet now he also had a new perspective on their relationship given the space. He'd been trying too hard. He'd been trying to force his love on Eren, and accepting every bit of abuse hurled his way because of it. That wasn't the kind of relationship he wanted. Nor was it healthy for either of them. He knew Eren was physically well with his magic having not returned. He'd stopped asking over every spiked fever, and every prolonged bathroom trip. He didn't understand what it was like to give birth, though he did understand that now their child was there, Eren felt lacking in every single way... and he had long before the birth. His mate couldn't figure himself out when he was being consumed by misery, that Levi unknowingly piled on top of. Leaving Eren in Armin's care wasn't ideal. Neither of them could care for themselves if battle was to erupt within the castle. Eren may be able to swing a sword thanks to his dragon strength, but that all depended on if he even thought to raise said sword in the first place... Yet, he also couldn't deny that leaving Eren by Armin's side might just be what the omega needed. Armin needed training on being a prince, Eren needed a project to distract his mind and lift his spirit. It... was... it was hard. He missed Eren, and he missed his sons. He missed holding Viren, bathtimes, change times, feedings and cuddles. He missed watching him sleep, or watching Eren holding him. He missed Luca's attempts at stealing food. He missed the dragon curling up in bed with them. He missed the way he played with his rocking horse and the sound of his nasally snoring. He missed bath times with Luca chasing bubbles. And he missed Obsydin being content enough with everything that he didn't provide a running commentary of all Levi's greatest fuckups to date. At least he could take some small comfort in not being the only one Eren wasn't talking to. Telling Armin he'd needed space from alphas, that meant Mikasa was also on the outside for now. He'd left his chambers less than a handful of times since Eren left him, and only once he'd seen the female alpha. She'd looked about as happy as he felt over everything, but if Eren was distancing himself from her too, he really must have a fair amount to sort through. 9 days after their fight, Levi received his first peace offering from his mate. An invitation to dinner, just the two of them, in Armin's chambers. He assumed it was just the two of them... Eren had written that "he'd be having dinner at 7 and invited him to join if he felt so inclined"... Having decided that it was time for new order in the kingdom, Armin had taken the royal bedroom for his chambers. The beta didn't have the same issues with the space that Erwin had. He didn't want to sit as some kind of shrine to people he'd never known. The little prince had more balls than his brother in that department. Uncharacteristically nervous, Levi triple checked himself in the mirror before making the walk through the castle to Armin's chambers. The guards at the door were enjoying their own dinner a few metres down the hall, Levi giving them a wave before knocking on Armin's door and waiting. It was still weird to even be in the part of the castle. Like he was breaking some great taboo... because Erwin would have fucking hated it. Forced to wait for a few very long moments, Armin opened the door for him, sighing as he did. The beta looked exhausted, causing Levi to wonder if Eren had been just as emotional and moody with him "Eren said you were coming, come on in. He's... probably still working and hasn't realised what time it is yet" "Working?" Armin shook his head, hand going to Levi's shoulder to push him along in front of him "I'll let him explain. He'd through here, I have no idea why my the royal chambers needed chambers off of them. Seriously. Luca, Viren, Eren, and half the army could have their own rooms here. It's stupid" "Has he... been ok?" "Nope. I'm not getting involved" "Armin, I asked if he was ok. Not his every move" "I know" Lead through into the chambers Eren was using, Luca leapt off the bed to come running at him, before launching himself up and leaving Levi to scramble to catch him "Hello, Handsome Boy, did you miss me? Daddy missed you" Granting him a particularly wet kiss in the form of his running his tongue up his face, Levi took that as a yes from Luca "I have a dinner arrangement of my own, mostly involving cake in bed with some serious reading. They hid all the best books in here. I'll let you know what the food arrives" Armin retreated, Levi moving Luca to bundle him up in his arms and against his chest. His son a mess of tail and feet as he trilled happily. Carrying the young dragon over to the bed, Levi dropped down on the edge. Eren hadn't even acknowledged him yet, the omega sitting at the desk opposite the bed, Viren on his shoulder as he scrawled down something on the pile of papers in front of him. There was a heavy silence on the room while Levi was forced to wait. Luca had gotten impatient, wanting more pats, while Eren was still yet to look his way. Sighing to himself, he hadn't realised he'd sighed loudly enough to get Eren's attention "Sorry. I need to finish this proposal for tomorrow. I thought it would be finished by now, yet... here we are" Armin really had put Eren to work. Levi paused a moment, not sure whether to ask of not, before deciding he should "Proposal?" "Armin wants to replace people, and mess with customs. I have to figure out who to replace and with who. He also wanted to change the way vows are taken, and get rid of some of the sanctuaries for omegas. He seemed to think if things weren't the way they were, I wouldn't have been on the streets for two years. It's not like I was hiding it from him, and Mikasa, with the hopes they wouldn't figure it out. Now we're intending on employing nurses and doctors in sanctuaries. Masters are to be vetted before they take up that role too... He's got no idea" "Ah..." "Ah" what? How long were things going to remain this awkward? And was Eren alright working with magic? He didn't have his back "It shouldn't take too much longer. I want to get this out my head before I forget" "No. No, I remember too well what it's like" Should he have offered to help? But he didn't know anything about magic... Eren fell back into silence, other than the scratch of the nib against the paper. Luca was more than happy to lap up his attention... Viren must still be sleeping, as he hadn't uttered a noise since. Maybe he should go? But he wanted to talk with Eren. It'd been days since they spoke. He had so much to ask "I think I'm done, at least for now. By the sounds of it, Armin is about to knock on the door" Pushing his chair back, Eren walked over to the bedrooms door, opening it to reveal Armin with his hand raised to knock, and for some reason Willy was standing there with a tray of food. In his lap, Luca abandoned him for food "Those dragon senses of yours are as sharp as ever. Though you look even more exhausted than you did yesterday. I was hoping we could talk?" Why the fuck was Willy there? And what did he mean that Eren "looked even more exhausted that yesterday?", since when did Eren meet with Willy? No wonder Armin didn't want to say anything to him "I'm actually planning on having dinner with my m-Levi tonight" "I understand. I simply hoped I would be able to send word back to Marley that you've at least read through the papers Zeke left for you" Eren looked to the pile of paper on the desk "Not yet" "Then let us talk over dinner? Armin, won't you join us? There is still much I would like to talk to you about" At least Armin was kind enough to shoot Levi a sympathetic look "Willy, tonight really isn't a good night. I already have plans" "Then the three of us?" Eren looked over to the loaded desk "Lunch tomorrow? I still need to review those papers" Willy's face lost it smooth facade for a second, Eren not facing him missed it "Lunch it is then. Enjoy your dinner" Passing the tray to Armin, Willy gave a funny kind of half bow before leaving. His steps slow and stunted, as if expecting what Eren to tell him to wait, only for Eren not to. Placing Luca down, Levi took the tray of food from Armin "Thank you, Armin" "Good luck... and if you're staying the night, I don't want to hear anything" "You're about a decade too young to be lecturing me" "Hey. You get to go back to your chambers, I don't want to look at that door and think about you two... doing that" "Armin, relax. Levi made it clear about that. I was simply thinking dinner, but if he wants to go, then I'll go back to work" Levi hadn't made it clear. He'd tried to make it clear, but Eren had stormed off and left the argument hanging "No. You're having dinner with him, and I'm having dinner too. Enjoy the cake" "I swear you're just as stubborn as Nicollo is. He has to be onto you by now" "Yet, he keeps sending cake up. You're the one who said not to let the staff push me around" "I know I did. I wouldn't put it past him to send up just cake for lunch tomorrow" "I'm lucky you're here. Anyway, I'm going to leave you two to talk. I'll be reading if you need me" "Thanks, Armin" With the desk space taken Eren settled himself down on the bed, leaving Levi to carry the dinner tray over. At least with Armin and Willy there, Eren had been willing to talk. Laying Viren down on his pillow, their son yawned widely, before starting to cry. Sighing, Eren picked Viren back up "Has he been crying..." "He hasn't been settled if he isn't held" "Do you want me to?" "You want to?" What kind of question was that? He'd missed all three of his boys. Though Luca had abandoned him for food, his son had climbed up to rest his head on Levi's thigh. It seemed like his son's had "forgiven" him, but Eren was keeping a deliberate distance "I've missed him" "Here, take him then" Passing their pup over, his son was adorable. His eyes widened as they met Levi's, his cry cut mid-grizzle. Patting his swaddled bottom, Levi's whole face was filled affection for Viren. He didn't want to put him back down, and he definitely didn't want to return to his quarters alone again "Hello, baby boy. Hello. Look at you. I swear you've grown again. Knowing you, you've been happily drinking all your milk down" "They've both been fine. Luca has learned that too much sugar isn't as fun as he'd thought it would be, and Armin learned not to leave the bathroom door closed" "Oh?" "Luca used his bed. It was both funny and revolting" As long as Luca had access to a drain, their son was pretty well trained "I bet Armin loved that" "Loved is a strong word" Silence fell again. Since when was it so hard for them to talk... about anything. He didn't like this. He didn't like the way things felt "You mentioned something about cake?" Yawning deeply, Eren nodded "It's become a battle of wills. Armin requested cake for dinner as a joke, so Nicollo came up in person to see if he seriously wanted cake. As a joke, I told Armin to say he did. Nicollo insisted that Armin couldn't have cake for dinner, so it's been dinner for the last 5 nights. Armin's tired of cake, given he never really wanted it anyway, but he isn't backing down. Luca has even gone off of cake, he found too much of a good thing wound up with him vomiting and being very sorry for himself" "I truly thought he could stomach anything" "Dragons are not invincible, he also lacks magic" "I know..." He wasn't getting anywhere like this. Not with Eren being so distant. Perhaps he was just as nervous as Levi was? Or perhaps he'd decided their relationship had run its course. Eren was giving him nothing, seemingly happier to talk of Armin than to ask him about them "None of this is what I want to speak about. How are you?" "Working. Things are better working. Armin's arranged a small allowance for both of us. You for your knowledge on how this kingdom works, me for dealing with the magic side and such" "We're employed now?" What happened to leaving the royal court? Eren hadn't wanted to be here, and yet he'd taken a job? "For a time. We can't leave at the moment, you said as much" So it wasn't permanent? "Then for how long?" "A while. Things are complicated. We'll be leaving for Europe at the end of the month, there's also official throne business to jump through in order to abdicate, which I legally cannot do until Dina is imprisoned or hung. There are also other things to consider, such as my next heat. Armin isn't ready to lead alone. Despite Erwin's wishes, he wishes for you to be his advisor" "You're better suited. You know him far more personally than I do" "It's because I know him that personally that I shouldn't be his advisor. You can be impassive over decisions. I can't. Armin and I have discussed this at length. I also have Marley to consider, I cannot be his advisors when I have to clean the mess left up by Queen Dina. Please Levi, I didn't ask you to join me simply so we may fight again. Our sons miss their father" Marley... Eren was screaming he didn't wish to be prince, and now... He'd accepted that he was for the time being because of Willy. None of that should stand as valid. Not before Zeke's death, and not after like it did. Yet, it still didn't answer his question "I asked you how you were. Not Marley, Willy or Armin. You're acting distant from me, which leads me to believe either you're nervous or you've decided we're over and you don't know what to say. I didn't come here to fight. I came here because I don't know how you are, not when I'm in my chambers and you're here with Armin" "Nervous. Armin brought in a doctor to assess me because... well... the castle's healers don't exactly like that I'm part dragon. Upon completion of his assessment, he narrowly missed being punched in the face when he told Armin that omegas frequently come down with melancholy and that I seem to have caught the illness" "A doctor?" "Armin felt a second opinion was necessary. He refused to let me work until I was cleared. All we did was simply talk" "Wh-why didn't you tell me?" "Because I felt we both needed space. We were basically living on top of each other, and I felt we both needed a breather" That made sense. He knew how stir crazy it could get when you're trapped with a limited group of people nonstop. Still, he couldn't deny it hurt deep. He wanted to be Eren's foundation. He wanted the omega to be able to be open and honest with him. Instead, he found himself back on the outside of his own family unit "So you're doing better?" "A bit. Work and having something do helps. Should I take Viren back so you can eat?" "No, I've got him. You're the one who looks like you need to eat. Have you been getting enough sleep?" "I've been sleeping" "That doesn't mean much. A half hour nap can still count as sleeping. I know how you get when you have something on your mind" Eren let out a small snort "You know me far too well. I have been sleeping though" "Not enough. Your complexion is pale, and the bags under your eyes are bigger than saddle bags" "I didn't ask you to dinner so you could pick my choices apart" "I'm not picking them apart, I'm worrying about the father of my children and making sure you're not working too hard" "I'm not. Viren has been unsettled, that's all" "And it has nothing to do with the papers Zeke left for you?" Eren looked down to his lap, taking a deep breath before looking back up "Those are complicated. Zeke left instructions for my safety and wellbeing, and that of what he thought to be his son at the time of signing the forms. If something was to happen to him, I was to return to Eldia. The raising of the child left to me, and if something were to happen to Dina, I was to rule Marley. The stupid man said I was the kind of ruler Marley needed, because I was far too kind for my own good. He also left me some inheritance, and money for the child to be paid upon their 21st birthday. I've already put into motion rejecting the inheritance, for both myself and Viren. It's clear to everyone that Viren could only be your son, given the strong resemblance, but it's still complicated. The people of Marley believed the child that of their beloved prince. Dina trashed my name and blamed me for the death of Zeke in the Marley newspapers. She still has loyal supporters, but she also has even bigger debts. She promised shares of the resources of Eldia for military support, and now that she's been arrested and failed to pay, Marley is on the brink of being invaded. Given their royal family bloodline has come to an end, they'll be dissolving the royal household depending on Dina's outcome, and handing control to the military, which have already appointed Willy as their representative as the Tybur family is well travelled and friendly with a number of countries. A new peace treaty between Marley, Draecia and Eldia is also being drafted. The royal advisors keep insisting on changing various things, but they don't know that Armin and I submitted our own proposal with the help of Historia. She'll be joining us in Europe, but Ymir won't. That depends of course on whether she goes into labour between now and then. Given she's carrying a small clutch, and such. At the trial, I'll be presenting my story of how I was imprisoned, as well as my part in the war. Even though the dragons had been driven to insanity, I still attacked. I also need to testify as Zeke's widow, and just how I became prince. It's all ridiculous farce, and now I'm talking far too much about work. You should eat. I know you've barely been eating, or touching your tea, or leaving your chambers for that matter" That was a lot... and Eren really did seem to be doing better without him. With all this happening, where did he fit into Eren's busy schedule? When it was just the two of them, it was a given that Eren would be on his arm... and how did Eren know what he'd been up to? Forcing a joking tone, Levi moved Viren to his shoulder. The tea on the tray was probably cold by now "Are you spying on me?" Without hesitation, Eren replied "Yes. Just because I need space, doesn't mean I don't care for you. I can't keep fighting with you, or being selfish" "Selfish?" "Being constantly afraid. Relying on you for constant reassurance. Self destructing, and leaving you to pick the pieces up. Running to you for comfort because the world feels too hard for me to cope with at the moment. I'm selfish. I need the pat on the head. The gentle whispers. The constant affections of my alpha because I loathe myself. I'm tired and afraid. Not having my magic makes me feel as if I've been stripped and shackled again. Like I'm a prisoner in my own skin. I can't stand to look at my body. And I can't stand to look at you as I take my frustrations out on you. I'm not ok. Lesser omegas would have been institutionalised by now. I miss Zeke. I miss you. I feel as if I'm cheating of him with you, despite not being in that kind of relationship. I feel his life was cut short far too soon, and that he is yet another person I have killed. I feel like I killed everyone who died in this war personally. It's a heavy burden. I never thought I would become the devil, yet I have. But at the same time, I can't act like a military commander. I can't send people to their deaths for the greater good of the kingdom. So I run. When I'm working, I don't have time to deal with the loathsome being I am. I can just be a name on paper, then pass it on to be signed with no recognition of me and my work. I can be a normal castle employee. I think I did love Zeke towards the end, but it's very different being "in love with someone", and "loving someone". I love Armin as a brother, but I'm not in love with him. Once again, I'm talking far too much. To answer your question, I need to keep working. I can't sit still. That's why we're staying longer, though I will understand if you decline the position. I have been checking up on you, and asking over your activities. Space doesn't mean I don't care. Space means I care about you enough that I know things aren't working between us. I'll be staying in Armin's quarters longer, most probably until we leave for Draecia. There's simply too much to do" Levi sat in stunned and pained silence. He didn't want Eren out of his reach. He didn't want him staying here and working himself until the sun rose, or until he collapsed from exhaustion. He loved him, and needed space, but things weren't working. Wasn't that the same as breaking up? His alpha roared his pain in his mind, even Obsydin's pain could be felt cold and heavy in the back of his mind. His heart was racing, his throat constricted as if wrapped in thorns while his lungs couldn't remember what air was. He didn't want Eren to leave him. He didn't want to lose their family over a stupid fight "Levi? You're crying?" He hadn't noticed he was. Wiping at his face angrily with his free hand, he held Viren tighter to him with the other one "What am I supposed to say to my mate telling me he wants to break up?" "I... what? No. That's not what I said" "That's what it sounds like" "I'm not saying that" "You've made preparations for the next month without me in the equation. You don't want to be prince, yet you've bent your knee to Willy. You refuse to come back to our chambers, yet say our sons missed me. While sounding as if you, personally, didn't miss me at all. You were barely functioning in our quarters. You tried to, like the party. Like the dinner party. You tried so hard, but a week apart... you don't even need me now" "I'm not saying that!" "Then what are you saying?" "I'm saying we were on top of each other all the time. When's the last time you did anything for yourself?" "I was" "Looking after me, isn't doing something for yourself. When's the last time you went for a horse ride? Or for a run? Or spoke to Isabel and Farlan face to face? I was smothering you" "You weren't smothering me" "I was. I am. I'm clingy and I'm needy. I need you and your reassurance" "Then why won't you come back to our chambers?" "Because that's not a healthy relationship" "Did you decide this? Or that doctor of yours?" Eren blinked at him "Why would you ask that?" "Because you're my mate. My omega. And I fucking miss you. I miss you. You're here, even right in front of me, but I still feel like I'm on the opposite side of the castle. I don't know what you want me to do?" "I don't want you to do anything. This is about what I need to do" "And what? I just wait? Stand on the sidelines while you run off jumping into another drama?! You didn't tell me anything! The doctor? You couldn't have asked me to be there? In case I had my own questions over how I should be helping you? I love you, and you're planning this whole other life without me" "A whole other life? I asked that you be Armin's advisor! Which means we would be working together, while I still have space to work my head out. I never said I wanted to break up. I said we both needed a breather!" "I don't want a breather! I want you by my side where you belong!" "I'm useless at your side until I sort myself out" "Which you don't have to do alone! I know our bond is fucked to hell, but I still thought you knew the affections behind the mark. That I care about you and I want to help you!" "And I'm telling you, how I'm feeling isn't fair on you. I'm not the omega I was, and you're not the alpha you were. This is the fourth year since this thing between us started, and in that time, we've spent 20 months apart. 20. That's a huge amount of time, with the last 8 months of that being a complete and total... catastrophe. Do you want a mate who wants to hurt himself when he sees his own black scales? I can't even remember the shade of green they used to be! I hate how I am, and I need to figure stuff out! I... I just need me time" Their yelling upset both Viren and Luca. Luca letting out a sad trill as he tried to hide his face under Levi's leg. Viren starting to scream. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Levi felt almost punched in the face by the anger in his scent. He didn't want to be angry. But the thought of losing Eren... having him walk away... he'd rather die than be without his mate "This was a mistake. I should go" "Levi..." "No. Just... no. We both have things we need to work out, and I stupidly thought that that meant we worked them out together as we're mates. I was wrong. Here, take Viren. Heavens knows you're a better parent that I am" Passing Viren on, Levi was quick to exit Eren's bedroom, slamming the door as he went. Looking up from his bed, Armin placed his book down with a sigh "Levi? Are you alright?" "No. I'm pretty sure Eren just dumped my pathetic alpha arse" Opening his mouth, Armin was probably intending to offer words of comfort, Levi didn't want to hear it. Quick to flee the room, he had no idea what happened, only that he seemed to be the only one not to understand. * Sitting on the bed, Eren had Luca half in his lap with Viren on his shoulder. He had no idea what the fuck had happened. He'd heard what Levi had just told Armin. Levi thought he'd ended things with him. That wasn't it at all. He was trying to work on himself. Or he would have if he wasn't swamped with paperwork, and crying pup who hadn't settled for longer than two or three hours a night. He honestly hadn't meant for so long to slip through his fingers, his disastrous birthday still felt so raw, as if it'd only happened the day before. None of his decisions had been made lightly. He'd been a balling mess when he'd arrived on Armin's "doorstep", convinced that things with Levi were done after how mad he'd been at him. It wasn't like Eren could control the dark thoughts that flooded his mind, and he'd cried so hard that night he'd made himself physically sick. Right now, he felt just as pained as he had then. All he'd wanted was too cool their relationship a little until his magic came back, or his mind wasn't such a mess. Armin didn't speak as he let himself in. The beta simply moving to climb up on Eren's bed, to guide him into his hold. Melting into Armin's arm, Eren's tears finally spilled from his eyes "I didn't break up with him... I asked for space" "Oh, Eren. I didn't think you had" "He... was so mad" "Did you tell him you'd talk to the doctor?" "It made it worse! He thinks I don't want to rely on him! Not that I want space to work my head out... ugh..." He was going to be sick. After the other night, Armin knew all the signs as the took Viren into his arms so Eren could run for the bathroom. None of this was what he wanted. He'd been nervous as hell when Levi had shown up, then Willy had tried to invite himself to dinner. It wasn't a great feeling throwing his guts up. He'd thrown up more than he'd ever imagined during his pregnancy, and had prayed that would be the quota for the rest of his life. Having not eaten dinner, and having had a skint lunch, even once he'd thrown up everything he had in his stomach, his body kept trying to bring up more. Slumped over the toilet, Armin found him in his disheveled state given Eren wasn't able to gather his feet under him. With the patience of a god, his best friend got him up and cleaned up, before guiding him to his bed where Luca and Viren waited for them. Sitting him down on the edge of the bed, Armin wrapped his arm around his shoulder as he joined him "Should I talk with Levi?" Shaking his head, he didn't want his alpha feeling like he was being ganged up on "Ok... did you get to tell him about taking the job? So you'd have money for when you got your house?" "N-no... he yelled at me for making plans without him" Food, clothes, toys, books, seeds, furniture, bedding, soap, blankets, all of it costed money. He was hoping by having some kind of actual income, they'd have something more then just themselves when they finally moved out the castle. Everything in the world cost money, and he needed raw materials to mould with his magic. He could have the most magnificent orchard in the world, but it'd only be a figment of his mind without the seeds to plant first "I really think I should talk to him" "He wouldn't listen! I told him I don't want to break up! I want... I want to work on me. My stupid mouth ruined everything! You know how I get and I was so nervous... now I've lost my mate" Those words left him feeling like his heart had been physically torn out. He'd told himself he wouldn't place all his trust in Levi so easily after he'd left him, and now his heart was broken all over again "You haven't lost him" "I have. He was crying, Armin. He thought me needing space was a permanent thing..." Sucking in a deep breath, he started coughing immediately. Somewhat surprised he hadn't started coughing when he'd started crying "Ok... ok, shhh. I'm sorry" "I wanted... to be... the omega he deserved... you know what... I've been through... I want to be better... and work makes it better... and now I'm alphaless with a pup that's only three weeks old. I can't... I..." "Eren, shhh. Ok. It was just a fight. Couples fight all the time" "I can't... lose him..." "You won't. You won't lose him. I think right now you should get some rest. I know you've been working hard on that proposal, but it's not worth your health. If anyone says anything, I'll have them banished from the kingdom" "You can't do that" "You tell me to be more "princey", this is the price you pay. Here, sleep in my bed tonight. I've got the fireplace in my room, it'll help keep you warm. Especially with the storm you said was coming" "I don't want to... bother you. All I do is bother people" "You're not bothering me. We're brothers, remember?" "O-okay... this wasn't how tonight... was supposed to go" "I know. Here, let me move Viren for you. Luca's already climbing under the covers and waiting for you" "My baby boy... baby boys... I don't know how to be a mum without him" "You're not a mum without him... hey, can I ask you something?" God. No. He couldn't do the think, so why was he nodding "Why do you male omegas call yourselves mothers? Not fathers?" "We... don't all. Alphas used to call us that to degrade us... but... I loved my mum... I want to be like her. Not all male omegas use "mum" or "mother"... and I don't see it as an insult. They should try pushing a baby out" Armin winced "I'm so glad I'm not an omega. I thought I might like to be, but the birth thing... it's scary" "It's worth it... or it was... I ruined everything" "You didn't ruin everything. You're going to wind up making yourself sicker. You need sleep. Especially with lunch tomorrow" He'd forgotten about Willy... "The papers. I need to read the papers" "I'll wake you up early. Come on, don't make me order you to sleep. I'll get the tray from your room and make sure your papers are ready to read" "I'm being a burden" "No you're not. We've all been pushed to our limits. Everything has just been one think after another" Armin helped him up and under the blankets before laying Viren atop, between him and Luca. His son's soft hair against his nose. Being separated from Levi, he'd noticed over the last few days that their pup smelt more like his father than of him. It was just something more to love. Laying a thinner blanket over the pup's lower body, Armin put on a stern face "I expect you to allow your mother at least 4 hours solid sleep before your next feed" "It doesn't work that way" "I can still try. I'm just going to get that tray. You sleep" Even feeling as shitty as a giants loincloth, Eren barely lasted five more minutes before passing out, his pillow already soaked from his tears, as the sheets muffled his thick scent of distress. * Sitting on the end of his bed, Levi felt numb. He didn't know what to do or what to say... or who to even speak to. Hanji hadn't treated Eren with any of the respect he deserved, effectively burning that bridge. Armin would be with Eren, Mikasa hated him and Moblit would probably piss himself with fear if Levi told him he wished to talk about Eren. Isabel and Farlan... no. He loved them dearly, but that just wasn't the kind of thing you talked to them about. He didn't want to hear someone bad mouthing Eren, despite having been just dumped by him... How had this even happened? Roused from his thoughts by the cry of a baby, Levi blinked away the fog in his mind as he cast his gaze towards the bedroom door. Leaning against it, Armin was standing there with Viren bundled up in his arms. From the expression of Armin's face, it was safe to say that Eren didn't know he was there. The kid had balls to come here after what had happened "Shouldn't you be with Eren?" "He cried himself to sleep. I thought we should talk. Eren said he'd stuffed it all up, and while I promised him I'd let him explain everything and keep out of it, I don't particularly enjoy knowing you're both suffering over a misunderstanding" "He doesn't want me. What's to misunderstand there?" "He does..." There was a screaming "but" to follow, yet Armin let the sentence hang "But?" "It's really complicated. Do you maybe want to hold Viren? Babies still scare me. I'm afraid I'm going to drop him or hurt him, given how small he is" "Eren won't be mad?" "That I'm here, or that I stole the baby? Eren hasn't slept more than a few hours at a time since he came to see me. That's why I have Viren with me. He probably won't wake until mid-morning tomorrow. Though I did promise I'd wake in time for lunch" That was right. Eren was best friends with Willy now... Bringing Viren over to him, Levi was more than happy to take his pup into his arms "Eren had death threats" That got Levi's attention, his brow wrinkling in a way that would have Eren teasing him "Death threats?" "In Marley. That's what Willy wanted to talk about. Someone even cut off their tongue and sealed in a package saying "dead men tell no lies". He's not friends with Willy, and he doesn't trust him" "How did you know I had problem with Willy?" "The look on your face when I mentioned lunch. I know you think Eren suddenly wants to break up, but he really doesn't. He's trying to prevent war from sparking in Marley given the factions wanting to go to war want out resources..." Armin was apparently in a talkative mood. Yet, Levi didn't want to hear it "Good for him. If that's all..." "That's not all at all. No wonder you two ended up upsetting each other. He doesn't want to break up with you, nor does he want to lose you" "So taking a job without telling me is what you expect from your partner? Making plans to stay even longer after asking me to run away with him, that doesn't make any sense. He didn't want to be here, now he doesn't want to leave" "Eren would run away with you in a heartbeat. He really would if he didn't think he would be endangering you" Levi scoffed "Right. That's why I'm supposed to advise you, and he's buried himself under a mountain of paperwork with no consolation" "Everyone knows Eren always has to be on the move, that he doesn't handle sitting still. He was upset over how much everything would cost once you two left the castle and no longer had everything provided for you. And that you both fought, and that he couldn't seem to make you happy. He wanted to work for free to begin with, and I had to force a wage upon him. He wants to save up for when you two leave. For that house with the vegetable garden and space for your boys" Levi was shocked, now bitterly wishing he hadn't lost his temper. He thought Eren's work ethic was built out of his desire not to be with him... "I... he said he didn't wish to return to our chambers" "Probably because he took what the doctor said far too close to heart. The man essentially said that omegas were weaker beings who always came down with melancholy, and couldn't accomplish much of anything. He no longer has a medical licence. That, on top of death threats from Marley and fears of Dina's revenge has him scrambling in an attempt to keep his three most precious people safe. I know you're mad at him, and we both know he tends to get snippy when pushed too far by people he doesn't particularly like. Tonight his nerves got the better of him. He does love you. He was going to tell you everything, that's why I wasn't getting involved, but this is the second night he's sobbed himself to sleep in my bed after being violently ill. He seriously thinks he's lost you forever, all over again. Part of the reason he asked for you to be my advisor was to also protect me. People aren't exactly open to me actually being of royal blood. He's scared that if someone does make an attempt on my life, that he won't be able to protect either of us. He's put a lot of thought into his actions" "Actions he didn't discuss with me. We're supposed to be mates" Armin sighed in an exaggerated manner "I never would have guessed. You're both convinced the other one is mad at you. You both jump to the worse case scenarios, and your both obsessive about not hurting each other. Everyone hurts everyone else. People fight. People also need space to calm down. Eren wants space because he wants to figure out how to process everything that has happened. Especially fucking Marley. That was... horrible. He was so scared after seeing Luca hurt, then with bars on his windows..." Armin stopped to shake his head "He doesn't love you any less. He doesn't want to break up. Now stop being a stupid jerk. Your omega needs you to accept he needs space. He doesn't want to be away from you. He's not running away. He's not leaving the castle. You still get to see him every day. He'd just prefer to get his head back on straight, you stupid face" Levi let out a laugh before he could stop himself. Both men surprised at the sound "You're right. Not bad for a brat, it simply hurts when you find yourself pushed back to the outside after working hard to get back on the inside. I know Eren has issues, yet everything I tried seemed to only make it worse. The more I told him I loved him, the less he seemed to believe it" "That's because when you say it all the time, it just becomes casual. But what do I know? The only relationship I've seen around here is yours and Eren's, and that's... disfunctional at best. You're both frustrating. I hope you know that" "Eren may have mentioned it, one or twice before" "Levi, when you left him behind, it fucking broke him. He barely functioned for two weeks, then he had to marry Zeke to keep the peace. Marley was essentially a gilded jail, Eren not allowed to use magic or shift into a dragon because that was an act of war. He was then imprisoned by Marley in this castle, where all his friends and family were. He was waiting for us, and we didn't even find him. They kept him under control with magic cuffs and threatening to kill Luca up, then hang his body up so Eren could see. And don't even get me started on the whole baby thing. He nearly got rid of it because it "wasn't" yours. He'd be happy if he left, yet he's scared that would make you all open to attack. Once Dina is dealt with, his service ends. I told him he could leave, but he wants to stay until his first heat has passed given it'll be safer to have it here where he can be protected, and you won't have to race to have everything ready in time for it" He got the message. He'd fucked up good, and now Armin was rubbing salt into the raw wounds "Ok. I understand..." "I'm not saying you're not good for him. I know you love him. This is something he needs to do for himself. Now, I have to go back up to my chambers and make sure Eren hasn't noticed I've snuck out. I've got another spare room up there, for god only knows what reason. Do you want to stay there so you can be with your boys? He's been quite upset over you not being able to see them" "How mad will he be?" "Not too mad. I'm open to creative truth telling, of me not telling you what time to arrive for lunch, and Eren oversleeping" Levi's lips twitched as the corners rose slightly "If you keep that up, you might just be the best prince this kingdom ever had" "By lying to the people?" "No, with your creative truth telling. I'd like to spend more time with the boys" "Then get a move on. The longer we wait, the higher the chance we'll be sprung" Armin was a scheming little shit. His bright blue eyes, and soft blond hair, hid the mind of a criminal mastermind. If anyone was to make an enemy of the prince, he had a feeling they'd be royally fucked over in every single legal way, before they knew what hit him. For Armin, his words were his weapons. His tongue was shrewder than a shrew "I need to grab a change of clothes and my swords" "Now you're sounding like Eren... I should probably grab some of his clothes too... Now all I need is Mikasa to move in... God. Why does this place need so many rooms?!" "Ask the mages, they're the ones who keep the castle expanded with their spells" "I don't want to ask the mages. I thought it would be cool to learn magic, but they're all kind of weird" "Even Eren?" "Yep. But I can say that. Now stop procrastinating, and give me the baby. It'll be safer than you playing around with your sword and holding him. Mikasa gave Eren a sword for his birthday. Eren pulled out the knife you gave him and said he didn't need a sword. You should have seen the look on his her face. She told him that size mattered, so he told her only if you don't know what you're doing, and he liked the size of your one, now they're not talking again. But it was pretty funny at the time. Sorry. I'm kind of nervous you're going to yell at me or something, I don't think I've ever talked to you this much in my whole life. I might just take Viren and wait outside" Levi was sure he wasn't that scary. Certainly not since Eren had become his... Maybe he should work on that? Though, that would have to wait until after he and Eren had spoken... again, and hopefully he wouldn't fuck it up again... He'd like to think those closest to him and his mate knew well enough that he was placid provide Eren or their children weren't in danger. Maybe it was just Armin's clear nervousness over the situation? There seemed to be a lot of nervousness going around at the moment. Nerves. It was better than fear. Passing Viren up to Armin, Levi went about gathering everything including clothes for Eren. He didn't like that his mate needed space, but it was a better outcome than them breaking up. * Watching over Armin and Eren sleep, Levi felt like a stalker. Luca was spooned into Eren's hold, both of them snoring loudly while Levi sat across from them with Viren in his arms. Armin had been forced to wake Eren to let him know Viren needed to be fed, and his omega had been so dopey with sleep deprivation, he hadn't even realised Levi was in the room. This had resulted with Armin telling Levi to stay put with a hand gesture as he soothed Eren back to sleep. The young beta had tried to usher Levi into the guest bedroom, but his alpha and Obsydin wouldn't settle with Eren so clearly distressed. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't had sleepless nights before. Quite unintentionally Levi fell asleep in the padded armchair with Viren on his shoulder. His wake up seemingly timed with the rising of the sun and of Eren, his mate was trying to lay a blanket over him without waking him, only for him to do just that when he stepped on Levi's toe by accident. With the world an uncomfortable grey from the hour of the morning, Eren looked even more fatigued than the previous night. The moment he realised he'd woke Levi, he jerked back as if he'd committed some great sin "Eren?" "I... sorry, I thought you might be cold" The fire in the hearth looked to have been recently stoked, the room did hold a slight chill, but that may also have been his nerves over being caught by his mate "I didn't mean to fall asleep" "Armin went and talked to you, didn't he?" "Apparently I didn't hear you out completely, so he came to scold me" "I... I never meant to hurt you..." "You were just being a stubborn brat" "What did he tell you?" "Enough. I can't say I like you being away from me, but if you are, I'd rather you be here with him" "I don't want to break up" "I know. But you also need to realise that it's hard for me to let you out of my sight. Not just for my alpha and Obsydin, but for me as me. I worry for you. What I wanted for us was to face things together, and to be equals. I didn't want to hurt you" "You're not the problem here. The problem is me. I don't feel like myself anymore" "And being with Armin is helping?" "He lets me work. It's nice... I'm not saying you didn't let me work, but I like trying to have a routine. Something more than sleep" "You're supposed to rest as you recover. I've been that you're still healing, and worry that you're pushing too hard too fast" "I could make a shit joke right now... but I'll restrain from it. This isn't forever, you know that now, right?" "Us or this job for Armin?" "This job... I was kind of hoping "us" could be forever, or whatever forever actually is. I don't do well with free time" "I know. But you do know that if we move, all you're going to have is free time" "Maybe. Maybe not. At least everything here will be in order when we do" So Eren didn't want to break up, and he still wanted to move. It wasn't like he didn't believe Armin, but he needed to hear Eren say the words for himself. Patting his lap, Eren raised an eyebrow down at him. Yes, he wanted to hold his omega now that he seemed to be forgive, or whatever it was, before he could put his foot in it again "No cuddling?" "You want to cuddle? I thought you wanted to watch Armin sleep" "I was watching the three of you sleep..." "With your eyes closed" "I'm an alpha. It's an alpha thing" "I'm sure it is, but wouldn't the bed be more comfortable?" "I... I don't know the boundaries to this space thing" "Well, it's ridiculous o'clock. Viren will probably need feeding. I'm assuming you changed him?" "You needed the sleep" "Let me use the bathroom, then we'll feed him and settle down. I'm still too tired to read Willy's stupid papers" Immediately Levi wanted to ask about the death threats, buuuut, a warm bed with Eren and the kids won out "Alright. You go to the bathroom, and I'll just sit around and wait while you take a shit" "That's the Levi I know and love... you do that right, that I love you?" He wasn't entirely sure... he still felt like this conversation was on a knifes edge with one wrong move costing him his leg, or the whole other half his being in this case "I do. I think I'm going to need some time to adjust, so I may end up making you mad" "Thank you for at least trying to understand... I... really don't want to lose you. God. Do you remember when we used to be able to feel each other so clearly we couldn't hide, or those times we both literally coughed stuff up... we're closer than ever, but our bond is so mess up... I really miss it. I miss feeling you close without feeling smothered... and oh, there I go again. I'm just going to go to the bathroom before my mouth decides it needs to keep moving on it's own" "Armin had the same problem earlier" "There's seems to be a lot of that going around..." "I was thinking the same thing..." Armin's bed was significantly larger than Levi's already overly large one. It was an easy fit for three adult males, a dragon, and a pup. To hold Eren in his arms again, felt amazing. His omega so warm and soft against him. His brown hair smelling of whatever herbal remedy his mate had been using, with hints of lingering distress. Levi could feel how wet the pillow they were sharing was. Sleep came easy to both him and Eren, Eren's body moulding perfectly against his, as if made that way by some higher power. Sleeping a few more hours, Levi woke to find Eren still fast asleep. Not completely sure why he woke, he found Armin staring at him. Whoops "Eren found me" "I gathered. Though I don't remember inviting you into my bed" "He did. He needed to use the toilet and Viren was hungry" "Did you talk?" "A little" There was too much blood in his tea-stream, and no will to do much of anything other than to hold Eren "And?" ""And", what?" "Are you two ok? Are you talking?" Whining, Eren wriggled back against him as he pulled the blanket back up over his shoulders "Shhh... sleepy" "We have to get up soon. We've probably over slept as it is" "Still sleeping" Armin sighed, while Levi's hand snaked up to find Eren's. Intertwining their fingers, he kissed his mate's shoulder "Despite the fact I am perfectly fine with having lunch in Armin's bed like this, I think Willy might have a problem" Eren made a noise of disgust, then burrowed down against his pillow "I'm awake" "Says you as you try to hide" "It's warm. And Luca's so cuddly, aren't you my baby boy" Lifting his head at his name, Luca quickly lowered it so as to not disturb Viren. The action was too late, Viren unhappy about his warm bedding moving as he started wailing "I'll take him" "He's probably hungry and needs a bath and a change..." Eren sounded absolutely exhausted "Let me take care of him while you get up? I can at least start cleaning him up" "No... it's ok... I'm trying to do that routine thing" "Why doesn't Levi help you, while I find those papers. I didn't actually look last night" "I gathered by the fact Levi is here" "Are you mad?" "Not as mad as Viren. Alright, it's up time" Levi had missed bath time, Viren was happy to wiggle and kick in the sink space. He'd missed his pup's chubby little legs and arms, and the way his lips pursed up before a yawn. While Eren washed Viren down, Levi knew he was being a pain by hovering so close... yet didn't make a move to move away. He loved them both so much, and there wasn't exactly anything he could do. Armin's bathroom had the shower head over the bath, where Armin was currently bathing with Luca. It's started out as Armin bathing Luca, after finding up Eren's paperwork for him, until the little dragon had gotten a tad too enthusiastic and Armin had been soaked. He was completely not jealous in the slightest that Armin showered and bathed in front Eren... not in the slightest... not after Eren assured him that all he felt when he saw Armin naked was limp. For a scrawny bookworm, he wasn't quite as scrawny as his clothes would have on believe. Coming out of his growth spurt, much of the baby fat that had clung to his frame was now lost, and Levi was forced to endure an eyeful of Armin's ugly arse junk... Definitely a beta... and a game beta to bathe with Luca's razor sharp claws so close. By the time the three of them were ready, there wasn't enough time for breakfast or for reviewing papers. Eren hadn't brought his clothes into the bathroom with him, then refused to walk around naked in front of him and Armin. Dutifully bringing his clothes over to him, Levi was granted a glimpse of his lover's naked form... and promptly popped a boner on the spot, that he was left to deal with alone in the shower. It didn't feel great, his hands weren't Eren's hands. He couldn't feel his love upon his skin, and his imagination hadn't supplied much in the way of material, reminding him that he was both in Armin's bathroom and that Eren had been distressed the previous night. It was more like a manual chore than a moment of release, his orgasm somewhat lacking despite the thick ribbons of cum down the shower wall. He missed his fucking mate. Dressed and joining the others, Eren raised an eyebrow at him before offering him Viren to hold. Leaning in the omegas whispered in his ear "I hope you remembered to clean up", before pulling back from him. And here was, thinking he'd been somewhat covert. Then again, he never usually took long showers without Eren there to wash and pamper. He loved washing his mate's hair, especially when it lead to Eren with his head tilted back and a dopey smile on his face as he purred under Levi's fingertips "Are we finally ready to go? Willy is probably waiting for us" Levi cleared his throat, he definitely wasn't about to apologise for needing to jerk off "Yes. Have you got everything?" "You and Eren have the kids, I have the papers... I don't think we'll need anything else... Eren?" "I can't think of anything. It should be pretty straight forward, though I still don't understand how I'm legally a prince" "I know. We've had this conversation, though it would be nice if you could rule Marley. At least I'd know for certain we'd never go to war again..." "Let's just go meet with Willy. The sooner it's done, the sooner he can fuck off back to Marley" Eren rolled his eyes, while Armin hid his snort of laughter with a very fake cough "Levi, you do realise you have to behave?" "You're acting like I've never had to tolerate an insufferable guest before. I'll behave, provided he does" Lifting Luca into his hold, his mate frowned down at their son "What's that supposed to mean?" It meant Willy was a slimy creep who had been getting far too friendly with his omega "Nothing. I simply won't tolerate him disrespecting you, that's all" "I can stick up for myself" "I know you can. I probably know that better than anyone here. I simply mean, I refuse to allow him to define you by your secondary dynamic, instead of you as yourself. I expect him to treat you with the respect you deserve" "Ok. That's enough you two. Levi, no fighting with Willy. Eren, accept that Levi loves you. I don't want to see anymore fighting between the pair of you" Laughing lightly, Eren was quick to nod "Sorry, mum. I'll behave" "Good. Levi?" Levi looked to the blond beta, realising he was actually supposed to reply "God. Yes. Fine. Can we just go? Where are we even going? I assumed from last night's conversation that the meeting would be here" "It'd be here if we had more space. The royal library is still the hub for all things war related, and strictly off limits to all those with ties to Marley, just in case this is some elaborate trap. Hanji and Moblit are both overseeing castle repairs. The mages haven't had an easy time given all the spells in place here. So lunch will be in the sunroom. The throne room and the dining room are too stuffy, and we don't want him to think we don't like him" "You're getting better at this prince thing" "I blame Eren. Did he explain about the cake thing?" "This one you've already lost. Nicollo rules his kitchen with an iron fist. You've challenged him, and now you'll need to learn that wasn't the smartest thing to do" "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means you might just wind up with cake every single day until either you, or he, dies first" Armin gave a fake moan of misery "Here lays Prince Armin. Caked to death in the first year of his reign. I can see the epitaph already" "That really would be the icing on the cake" Armin gaped at Eren, Levi smiling at his mate with pride "Traitor" "Sorry, Armin. You're my best friend, but Levi is my mate. Can we go? And actually leave the room? I'm starting to get nervous all over again" "Fine. But I will have my revenge" "I'm sure with your intellect, it'll be a piece of cake" Delivered smoothly, Eren landed the final blow. Armin sweeping past both of them towards the bedroom doors "I hate both of you. Get out of my room" * Willy was waiting for them in the Sunroom, a small dining table had been moved in from somewhere else in the castle, and Nicollo had prepared a small feast by the look of it. Looking to the cake in the middle of the table, Levi couldn't help but laugh to himself over this whole cake thing, before his mood dropped at the memory of Eren not being able to enjoy birthday cake on his birthday thanks to how horrific the day had been. Ignoring the fact that he was supposed to take the seat to the right of Armin, as he would as advisor, Levi chose to sit next to Luca in position opposite to Armin. It was better than having his mate and son sitting next to Willy, even though it did leave Eren sitting directly opposite him. Luca didn't care where he sat, his eyes already on the carved game on the table "Our apologies for being late. We had some things to take care of, that took longer than expected" "It's quite alright. It wasn't a very long wait. Now, Eren. Did you have a chance to look over those papers?" Eren shook his head "No, I'm sorry. Chasing after two children can be quite hectic, and Viren isn't even on his feet yet" Levi was impressed. It wasn't a lie, as he'd never said that he'd been busy with the children the previous night. Willy would make the assumption he was, and take it for what it was "I can't say I know that from the point of view as a father. I do however come from a rather large family, and do know how they can be. I know I'm ignorant, but I've been dying to ask how it works with Luca?" "Luca is my son" There was a clear frostiness in Eren's tone. Willy had picked the wrong omega to insult over his children "I mean no offence. I simply mean, how is parenting similar and how does it differ?" "Luca was already running and causing trouble by three weeks. Other than that, there are no real differences. He has baths, he sleeps, he eats, he comprehends everything he hears, and understands who I am to him. To think him lesser for not being able to communicate is deeply wrong. He can make all his needs, wants, or upsets known quite clearly" "Yet he can't talk?" "No dragon talks in their dragon forms. There are plenty of people in the world who cannot talk, yet they exist just fine. Now. These papers? I would like to have everything in order before we leave, as I've already told you" God. Eren was breathtaking when he was on fire. His green eyes shone brightly, as he sat straighter and locked eyes with Willy. No one stood a chance when Eren got like this. Not just running his mouth off and tripping his way through on false bravado, but actually ablaze with confidence. Levi might not understand Eren's own particular mental pain, but he did understand that there were two times when Eren shone like this. Now, it because he was genuinely proud of Luca. Willy's attempt to cripple him, or to cause self doubt, was snuffed right out by the proud mother dragon. Being an alpha, it was probably more than Willy's ego could take knowing that Eren had shifted the balance of power in his direction "Right. Well. As I've told you, Zeke left a number of things in his will for both you and the baby, with explicit instructions that you have everything you need provided for you. And that if anything were to happen, you'd become ruling prince. This hasn't gone down well as you can imagine, with many calling your disappearance an intentional act to start war, and to give you an opportunity to kill your husband. It was widely known that you didn't hold affections for Zeke, and that you disappeared with the then prince of Eldia after he murdered two of our Marley citizens here. What we need from you is a signed statement. You'll need to outline where you were when you left Eldia with Levi. We also need you to have your son tested to prove he isn't Zeke's and therefore has no legal claim to the inheritance left. As for abdication, we have touched on that, yet for the stability of Marley, we have asked that you hold off on that for now. Now. Draecia has also stepped forward to make their position known. They're calling for the dismantling of the border protections where Marley meets Draecia. This has not gone over well at all. Some feel this Eldia pushing back with the second wave of war to start any day now. Especially with Marley citizens still confined within the castle. As Marley sees it, Eldia has made no true attempt at peace. You need to step up and make a royal declaration to the people. Like I heard you did here. You'll also need to include your plans of action for Marley, without mentioning you won't be retaining the title of prince. This also means legally drawing up permission for the royal household to be dissolved and for the country to be placed under military rule until a new government can be organised and established. There will also need to be a new treaty drafted between Marley, Draecia and Eldia" No wonder Eren hadn't said much of everything happening. Willy's was piling every ounce of blame he could on to Eren's shoulders. It was all a load of shit, yet the alpha knew Eren would be hurt at the thought of people being hurt. Military rule was never a good thing. Not that a ruling royal household was much better, but military rule would lead to marshal law... "What a load of shit" The words slipped out before he could stop them. The spell of confidence Eren was under breaking at Levi's unintended contribution. With three pairs of eyes looking to him, Levi took a moment to sound less annoyed "I know how all of this works. Your government needs Eren to cooperate with you, or Marley will be destroyed, yet you're also planning to then blame everything on him. Even if he releases an official statement, the media in Marley is hardly going to place a positive spin on the truth of everything which has happened. At this stage, it doesn't matter what Eren says or does. He isn't welcome in Marley, and forcing him to play prince to the people who don't want him there, will only lead to people hating those who restored him to power. What you're better of doing is not pushing Eren out into the public. He's already received death threats. That should tell you he isn't exactly popular there. And as for military rule, that never ends well. The fucked up upperclasses simply buy their loyalty to have things made just the way the like them. Lastly, the border protections will not be removed. It's a simple of saying you want to keep harvesting dragons, and refuse to them to live in their natural territory, violating international law. If Marley wants to get its self out of this hole, it's going about everything the wrong way" Willy smiled thinly, his usually faultless performance wrecked "Really? All we wish for is peace. Changes need to be made, but they cannot be made all at once. Losing the royal family will be a devastating blow for the moral of our people as it is. You can't be suggesting we..." "You tell them the truth. We all lie. It's unfortunately natural, and though sometimes for the right reasons, the consequences may not always play out positively. Now. You said you wanted Eren to decline the inheritance. I suggest we make that the topic of conversation over lunch. It seems we've all gotten slightly worked up, and Nicollo will be mad if we send down untouched food. Know this though, if you do not stop the killing of dragons, Eldia will support Draecia and we will move against you. You have my word as the prince on this" Levi would have paid good money to be inside Willy's head. Not only insulted by an omega, but then by a beta, the man's poor scheming mind was probably in meltdown. Letting out a long breath, Willy found his smile again "I understand this is a delicate situation, but it is time for us to come together. Our people have suffered for far too long at it is..." Willy didn't look like he'd suffered a day in his life. Not like the people of the border towns of Marley "... Queen Dina has been the ruler of the country for over two decades now. They won't take kindly to accusations that the Queen is less than honourable" "I know when Erwin's true identity was revealed, as well as my own, there was a lot of hostility towards the royal household. But by telling the people the truth, they were able to come together as they knew that the royal household respected them enough to admit the whole charade. It was the dawn of a new era for Eldia. This should be the dawn of a new era for Marley" Eren sighed softly "The only problem is, that if the truth doesn't come from someone they already trust, it'll be seen as me pushing the blame on. Revealing the truth of Zeke's death and Dina's deceptions will mean going before the very people who wish to murder me. I... I think that maybe we should talk to the international tribunal. Marley isn't the most popular of nations. When Levi and I travelled, we saw the reach of the kingdom, we also saw a small fraction of the many people suffering. I think in this case, perhaps releasing a news statement with the official seal of the international tribunal would be in the best interests of Marley. Though, it would also need to be signed by a household who's as influential as the royal family. I know the Tybur family has world wide connections. If you are willing to sign your family name to an unedited, and verified statement, then I will abdicate. If not, Marley will fall under joint Draecia and Eldia rule, with the amounts owed internationally repayed with the profits of sale when the royal manor is picked to pieces. I wasn't certain how to proceed before, but sitting here, this is my decision on these matters. We wait. No major projects will be pushed through for completion, and humanitarian aide will be distributed first and foremost. Your warships will retreat. And if they do not, they will be seized and sold to the highest bidder, under order of your ruling prince. I don't wish to play this hand. I do not wish for the throne of Marley, but given what you said, and the fact you cannot guarantee my safety, or to tell your people the truth, then you need to be prepared for the consequences of your actions. When the tribunal starts, there will be reporters and representatives from all over the world there. My statement will be made available to all of them. I am willing to omit some of the more embarrassing details of Marley's day to day activities, in order not to hurt your people more, but you must give your word they will know the truth" "You do not care what the world will think of you? Or what they'll say? Some may even call you a monster" "That wouldn't be the first time. And if I need to become what people need to hate in order to come together, then label me a monster" "It very rarely works like that" "I don't intend to remain a public figure. I never asked to be. I never asked to have these powers, or to be something other than human. But here I am. Given you will also be in Europe, I will return your papers there. Now, do I have your word that you will put your name to the truth" Willy paused. Armin stared at Eren with awe in his eyes. Luca had stolen a sandwich so didn't care for what was happening. Leaving Levi to bit the insides of his mouth, preventing a proud smile from forming on his lips. Eren was so well suited to this. His natural desire to help people, only firmed his own convictions. How he'd ended up with this perfect omega, he had no idea "I will put my name to it. Let's bring down the curtain on these lies, and set the stage for the world to learn the truth" "Then it's agreed. I shall remain prince until my statement has been made public. At that time, the future of Marley shall be handed down by the international tribunal. No military actions are to be taken towards Eldia. Your ships are to leave when you do, and will be forfeit if found in our waters. If I find you have lied to me, or intentionally kept important documents from me, in order to manipulate my decision, I will have you tried for treason. For some unknown reason, you remind me far too much of Zeke. You're both searching for something beyond that horizon, and are willing to play any part to get there. Zeke never got to find that paradise thanks to placing his trust in the wrong people. Betrayed by his closest confidence. Be careful who you trust. You're the one everyone is looking to within the military, and if everyone is still as loyal to Dina as you say, I would not be surprised to hear your life is also in danger" "You know... you're nothing like I'd expected. I heard how passionate and driven you were from Zeke, and given how passive you were in our first two meetings, I doubted his words entirely. Now, I can hardly believe I am staring at the same young man" "Zeke was a good man who'd been through a hell of his own. I loathed him at first, until I understood him. Through time we built up a relationship between us where we understood each other far better. I don't care if you loathe me, as long as you understand I am sick to death of people dying needless deaths. Marley and Eldia need to build up their relationship. Now, let's eat. I'm done having the same conversation on repeat" Lunch dissolved into awkward small talk. Willy avoiding looking at Eren as he asked Armin various things about Eldia culture, and Armin mirrored the questions back. Catching Eren's eye, Levi was so fucking proud of him, yet was unable to say as much out loud, forced to settle for a thumbs up that Eren blushed at. If it took time apart for Eren to find this confidence again, then he'd have to settle for nights apart and days working together... He wanted Eren to be happy and whole, and today had proven that he could handle himself... with words at least. His stubborn brat was still getting hand to hand training, as well as combat training, the first chance Levi had.

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golddaggers · 7 years

Text

pick me, choose me, love me

*requested

pairings: stiles stilinski x reader;

a/n: so, this was requested and I loved writing this. might have been way too inspired me. not that it matters. haha anyway, I hope you like this!

word count: 2,3k+

It is funny, now that I come to think about, how our perspectives of love change when we get old enough to understand the way life works. As kids, we often imagine that we’ll soon find “the one”, that we’ll both fall in love with each other right away and live happily ever after. Perhaps it’s because the novels, the movies… They only show the pretty side of it. They don’t tell you how much it hurts when we have a broken heart. How you feel so empty and hopeless. And how it takes almost forever to get over it. Above all, we are never expecting to be rejected.

I was never the naive kind of girl; maybe because I watched my parents splitting up at a tender age and their nonstop fighting. Probably why I used to think that love was a big fat lie; I couldn’t get myself to believe such thing existed, but then I met him. Stiles Stilinski. Also known as my neighbour. It happened a few months ago, when my mother broke the news we would be moving again. Due to her job, I lived in a whole bunch of cities throughout my childhood, so I was sort of used to it. Okay, back to the story. We made a quick trip to get some informations, my school application done and everything. It was a rather fun day. At the end, we went to our new house; it was the first time I saw him.

Stiles looked so cute that late afternoon; his hair was tousled, clothes wrinkled, it seemed obvious to me that he was worried about something. Then, as if he knew I was staring, his brown eyes glared at me, an eyebrow cocked, a puzzled trait scrunching his face. I waved shyly and he smiled at me, waving back. I never believed in love at first sight, or love at all, but I won't deny I felt nervous under that small gesture.

Days later, when I was already settled in, he swung by my place to introduce himself and offer a recently baked pie. A welcome treat. I remember I was so excited I even asked him to come inside, eat a slice with me. I was never this excited about someone previously. Stilinski quickly accepted my proposal, joining me at the small kitchen table. We talked like crazy that day; I found out he liked Star Wars just as much as I did and that he wasn't scared nor felt threatened by my witty remarks. Rather, he responded to them quite at the same level. I unconsciously knew I wanted him in my life; it was weird, sure, yet it appeared right to me.

More time passed.

In the meanwhile, the both of us became inseparable friends, always laughing, talking… We shared a strong connection. Like I had never had with anyone else before. Plus, Stiles was probably the only one who managed to get me out of my shell and for that I was incredibly thankful. Growing up with no siblings whilst travelling all the time, I never bonded with anyone, so I was very scared when he asked if I wanted to meet his friends as well. Nonetheless, it all faded away fastly. Scott and Liam were perfect gentlemen to me, squeezing me in tight hugs whenever we bumped into each other. The girls (Malia, Kira and Allison) also were happy for me to be joining their group. According to them, the gorgeous brown haired man had been through a lot and my presence had really lightened up his mood.

I recall being struck with a fuzzy feeling upon knowing that, because he had made me feel better about myself too. And, coming from a person who barely had relationships with other people, it was huge thing.

This being said, it wasn’t a surprise that we started dating a little while after. Stiles was so adorable asking me if he could take me on a real date that I wasn’t able to say no. I wouldn’t even if I could. Perhaps it was when I finally realised I didn’t see him as a big brother any longer; to be honest, I don’t know if I ever did.

However, as it must be obvious by now, there was one important detail Stiles failed to let me know: he had a girlfriend. Well, technically they weren’t together: about six months ago, Lydia Martin, it was the girlfriend’s name, travelled to another country in an exchange program and, or so Allison told me, she and the brown haired boy decided it was best if they broke things off while she was gone. Alli told me he was left utterly heartbroken, because Stilinski had been love with her ever since he was a little boy. She was, apparently, the love of his life.

There is something about being in love with someone the novels never tell, one day they will break your heart. No matter how long it takes, someday it will happen. I just never thought it would hurt so much. To hear that Stiles loved someone that wasn’t me… It shattered my heart. I wanted him to love me, to be with me! Not some girl who ditched him. Nevertheless, this wasn’t my choice to make and I definitely didn’t want to be between such a complicated relationship, which was why I firmly told him that I was out of whatever we had. I couldn’t stand being the second one. Not when I knew the extension of his love towards her.

The honey eyed boy tried to argue, to say something, but I could see clearly that he wasn’t sure about who to pick. Thus I convinced myself I was right on ending everything. I stormed out of his place and we haven’t spoke in almost two weeks. The first couple of days Stiles tried calling, texting, yet, I was so stubborn that, despite the ache I was in, I refused to answer. Now, on the other hand, I appeared to have lost all my dignity, because I was standing outside his home, fingers toying with steering wheel.

Last night I stayed up late thinking about how I didn’t want be the kind of person who doesn’t fight for what they want. I loved him. More than I thought could love someone. And I knew he loved me too, even if it wasn’t as much as he loved Lydia. Nonetheless, I needed to try. I couldn’t live in the ‘what if’ section. It would drive me nuts.

Taking a deep breath, I finally gathered enough courage to walk out of my car and head to his home. The darkness made it easier to see the lights on in the living room, meaning that he was there indeed; once standing in front of his door, I gave two weak knocks, my hands getting sweaty with anticipation. While I waited, my mind wandered on how weird it was that I was no nervous around the person that used to make me feel at such ease previously.

“Dad, did you forget your keys again?” Stilinski mumbled in a semi laugh afore his traits got soaked in shock. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I-I came to talk, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He pulled away, opening a brief space for me to get inside. “Come in, please.”

I walked inside quietly, glaring at the carpeted ground as if it would help me feel less anxious. It didn't. My heart still pounded harshly against my ribcage and I could feel the sweat dripping down my back. This conversation clearly would be easy; I could sense the tension coming from him. I sort of understood, though, because the last time we talked, I was smooth or polite. Oh boy.

Stiles shut the door closed and we went to his living room together, in an overwhelming silence he didn’t bother to break. Once both of us were comfortably sat in the couch, at a considerable distance, I must say, I finally gathered enough courage to look at him. My ex-boyfriend hadn’t changed much, but, once you get to know someone so deeply as I knew him, you sort of notice the small details about their actions. For example, he was anxiously tugging at the hem of his shirt, leg shaking… The brown haired boy never learnt how to disguise his emotions. I smiled weakly at the thought.

“What do you want from me?” He finally questioned, eyes pierced on mine. “I honestly-”

“Shut up.” I blurted out, straightening out my position. “I’m going to talk now and I don’t want to be interrupted, are we clear?”

“Do I have another choice?”

“No.”

“Alright then. Be my guest.”

“So… I know I said I didn’t want to be in a complicated relationship and that I didn’t want to split you and your soulmate apart. Allison told me your whole story… I felt so bad, you know? To get in between that. But, shit, I can’t lie to myself. I can’t pretend that I don’t love you, because I do. So much. These days we spent apart only made me realise I don’t want to give you up. Not ever.” Taking a deep breath, I placed my palm on his knee, our eyes connected in an intense gaze. “So pick me, choose me, love me!”

“Y/N… I wish I could give you a solid answer, but I-I…”

“Look, Stiles, I don’t want to pressure you or anything, I came here just to let you know it isn’t over for me. What we had… I never had it with anyone before and I’m not willing to let it go without fighting.” The honey eyed man sighed and glared at me, resting his warm hand above mine. “Tell me you’ll think about it before deciding to get back with her.”

“God I have thought about it. Ever since the day I watched you leave, I have been going crazy about this; Pondering wether I should choose the one I loved my entire life or the one who helped me glue my pieces together and showed me you can love someone out the blue. I love you and her deeply, which is why I don’t know.”

“The question is: who do you love the most?”

Before I stood up, I leant in to plant a kiss on his cheek and, without giving him a chance to reply, I disappeared through his front door, more hopeful than I was when I parked outside.

A week had gone by since I last saw him. It was weird how much I was expecting to hear an answer; every time my phone buzzed, I hoped it was him calling or sending me a text. Yet, Stiles had not contacted me, which caused me to think that he probably chose her instead of me. Hell I cried. Every single night I hid my face against the pillows to muffle my sobs so my mother wouldn’t worry.

Being in love with him had ruined me in ways I couldn’t describe perfectly. Nonetheless, I also couldn’t stop my life out of it, therefore I decided to focus on school, which was why I was currently sitting in my living room’s couch with a laptop resting on my crossed legs. I had a literature essay due tomorrow but I hadn’t had any luck so far.

Sighing, I opted to go to the kitchen and make myself some coffee, it would perhaps help me to focus more. However, afore I could even get there, I heard the bell ringing, announcing the arrival of someone.

“Who is it?” I shouted, swiftly changing my course’s route. “Huh?”

“It’s me, Y/N, Stiles.”

“Wait a minute, I'm coming!”

The mole speckled boy was standing in front of my door looking cute as ever: he had his hair all dishevelled, his clothes were a bit torn and his breathing was a bit ragged. If I didn’t know any better I’d say Stiles had run to my place.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Stilinski nodded. “I just needed to talk to you.”

“Okay.” A smirk pulled up my lips. “Come inside, I was about to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He smiled and, after I sealed the door, we went to kitchen, where I started prepping the bitter liquid I liked so much. Stiles simply stood close to me, supporting his elbow on the marble countertop. A couple minutes later, I handed him one white mug whilst sipping at mine, the bitterness comfortable on my tongue.

“What do own the honour of your presence?”

“I finally decided.” The boy whispered, his honey orbs liquid when they met mine. “I know the answer to your question.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah…” Placing the cup inside the sink, he caged me against it, hands cupping my cheeks. “It's you.”

Not giving a second thought on what I was about to do, I shortened the space between us and smashed my lips against his, absorbing the recent coffee taste impregnated on his mouth. Boy I had missed this. The way his pink lips pressed softly on mine or how his hands wandered to my hips, thumbs massaging the region. I missed him altogether.

Awhile later, we were forced to break the kiss for we still needed to breathe. Stiles glued our foreheads, his upturned nose poking mine slightly, eliciting a low giggle to fall from my lips.

“I'll always choose you, Y/N.”

“Don't make promises that are hard to keep, Mr. Stilinski.”

“No, but I mean it.” His palm went back up to my face, digits brushing the tender flesh. “I love you more than I had imagined I did. And I'm sorry it took so long for me to realise that.”

“Well, baby, I love you too.” Smiling, I pecked his lips again. “I’m glad you realised it in time.”

“Now can we make up for the time lost upstairs? Preferably in your bedroom? In your bed? Or the floor if you're into it. Or-”

“Stiles!” My eyes were widened as I laughed.

“What? Don't tell me you weren't thinking of it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

Grasping my wrist, he led me upstairs and, with each step we took, I couldn't help but feel whole again.

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90sgrungewriter · 7 years

Text

5. Untitled - Eddie Vedder

You woke the next morning with a small headache. You thanked god it wasn't too bad. You would just pop an advil before heading to work. You turned to see the clock read 10:26 AM.

FUCK! You were over two hours late! You flew out of bed and quickly noticed that Eddie was still sleeping on you couch, snoring softly. You took a moment to study his facial features, because you wouldn't get caught doing it if he was asleep.

Since when the fuck did you get so creepy?

His chest rose and fell, and for some reason made you feel very calm. It was quiet in your apartment, besides his light snores. His mouth was partially opened, and the crease between his eye brows was gone. He looked at peace, and for some reason, it also made you feel the same way. After a few minutes of mentally fighting with yourself, you thought, fuck it. You weren't even going to show up to your class today. Something you had never done yet, so not feeling as guilty as you probably should. You mentally high fived yourself for being such a good student.

"Dani?" You heard a small voice. That pulled you out of your thoughts to notice that you were still staring at Eddie, and he had woken up.

Great. Still caught in the act after all. Your silence and facial expression must've made it look like something was wrong. Eddie sprung up from his position to sit upright, blanket still half around his legs.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to leave? I ca-"

"No, uh..sorry I uh-" you didn't know what to say. You were just caught staring at some very sexy dude you barely know who spent the night sleeping on your couch. Thinking about it like that made it sound even more weird.

"I slept through my class. I'm two and a half hours late." you rocked back and forth gently on your feet.

Eddie's mouth formed a small O shape in realisation. He peaked at the clock hanging on your wall.

"Shit, are you gonna go now?" He questioned, removing the blanket from his legs to stand up. It was then you noticed he stood at least a foot taller than you. But that wasn't hard to do.

"No, nope. Fuck it, I say." You tore your eyes away from his and looked around your apartment. "I've never missed a class since I've started my courses. I think I can afford to miss a day."

He nodded, unsure of what to say or do at this point.

"Uh- I can make us some breakfast?" you questioned heading toward the kitchen.

"Oh, you don't have to..I don't want to trouble you. Thanks for letting me sleep on your futon." You locked eyes again as you turned to look at him as he spoke. You nodded.

"Anytime man. Don't feel like you have to rush off y'know...unless you want to go, then thats fine to-"

"Maybe we could just go out?"

Huh? Your look of confusion must have sent him a clue and he quickly spoke up.

"Breakfast! We could uh...just go out for breakfast." He tore his eyes away and glued them to the ground.

"Good idea. If you thought my cooking was bad, you're right. It is." No point in fibbing. You were always a shit cook. You didn't want Ed to go just yet...

He laughed lightly and nodded his head. It was quiet for a few moments when his eyes darted quickly from your eyes down, and up again. For a minute, you thought 'fuck yeah he totally checked me out!' but then you realized you were still in your pj's. They had little donuts with smiley faces on them and a black t shirt. Not to mention you weren't wearing a bra. You wanted to crawl away (n brush away loose grounds... lol sorry had to) and die. Yup.

"I'm obviously not gonna go like this, and DON'T tell Stone I have these, he'll never let me live it down." You would be mortified. He laughed and held his hands up in defense.

"Alright, I won't tell a soul." He promised.

You quickly ran back to your room to change quickly. You were pretty hungry, and you were sure he was too, so you didn't want to make him wait around long.

You changed into a pair of old high waisted jeans, and paired it with a cream colored sweater that you tucked inside your jeans. You ran your fingers through your short hair so you didn't look like you woke up from a very good night before...

You opened the door to find him waiting there patiently.

"Alright I'm good to go." You grabbed your purse from the living room table and laced up your boots at the same time as Eddie.

You two were out the door, but when you stepped outside, you realised you didn't know where you's would go.

"Any place in mind?"

"You act like I've been here for more than 3 weeks." He said jokingly. You mentally slapped yourself. Duh.

"Touche. Definitely hanging around Stone too much." You laughed bumping his arm with your shoulder.

"I'll give you that one." He looked around the not so busy street.

"I know a place. Not far from here, never been but Sean swears by there breakfast burritos." You explained.

"Breakfast burritos?" He quirked his brow. Damn, that was cute.

"Mhm. Come on, I'll lead the way!" you saluted.

When you guys entered the small diner, there wasn't too many people. Which was nice.

You took a seat at a table, as a waitress came forth and gave you some menus.

"Drinks for anyone?" She asked, looking at you first.

"Just a coffee please." You thanked her.

"Make that two." Ed was observing the small diner. She nodded and left our table.

"So breakfast burritos?" He asked quizically.

"Breakfast burritos." You laughed. The waitress came back with our coffees and took our orders. She seemed nice, and was a pretty girl. It was cool that she had respect and wasn't hitting on Eddie either. Some faith in humanity was restored that day.

A few moments of silenced had passed, neither of you really knowing what to say. You cleared your throat, as he looked everywhere but at you.

Whenever you locked eyes, it was probably the funniest thing ever. Why? You weren't so sure. Maybe the moment, the situation. You were both so awkward with eachother that from an outsiders perspective, this was probably funny and cringy as fuck. Soon, the two of you were giggling like mad. He had such a whimsical laugh, and it made your heart beat so fast and made you terrified at the same time. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this way, or if you had even ever felt this way before. Whatever the hell he was doing to you, it could not happen. Not right now. He broke things off with his girlfriend like two days ago. Even though he tried to play it off cool, you knew that she had meant something to him. Seven years is a long fucking time to be with someone you didn't really care about. There was no way he was interested in you like that, not right now. But you couldn't deny the attraction being present in the air. You weren't sure if he felt it too.

You tried to stifle your laughter to speak. "Yeah, this is awkward isn't it?" You just decided to voice it now, because things probably couldn't get any more awkward. He nodded, our laughters dying down now.

"A bit." He shrugged his shoulders and looked down, tearing his eyes away from your own.

Within the next few moments, your waitress came back with your burritos. You thanked her, and looked at Eddie to find him staring down at the burritos. You giggled, and he looked up at you.

"The moment of truth!" You spoke as he grabbed the burrito in his hands. He took a bite, and the look on his face was priceless.

"Fuck." He said with a mouthful of food. Cute.

"Yeah, thats what I thought." You dug in to your own plate of food.

After that, things seemed to take a turn for the better. You talked about a lot of things, you rarely saw your mom as she moved to Cincinnati with her ex-boyfriend, (you knew that because she called you like, twice a year) which was fucking stupid and you wished she'd just fuck off and not call at all. The only thing she would do is talk about how things were going for her anyway. You told him how your father passed away when you were very young, and you talked to him about your art. He told you the story of his father, which was the inspiration of the song on the demo. You learned he loved to surf, and used to be in a Chili Peppers cover band. You laughed at that. He also told you about some of his friends from San Diego. The conversation was definitely flowing a lot better than it was and before you knew it, you were walking back to your apartment.

"So she looks to Jeff and just lets it rip man, I've never seen a guy get so roasted before. It was hilarious. I felt kinda bad but it was just funny at the time." Eddie was in fits of laughter over one of your high school party stories. Not that you had that many though. Stone and Jeff definitely went to more than you did.

"Wow, poor guy. She just walked in at the wrong time, huh." You nodded in agreement. The two of you turned up your street and you could see the infamous truck parked in front of your building. You wondered who it was. Maybe the guys thought Eddie got kidnapped last night or something. Or worse...they would tease you about getting laid or something. The poor guy was gonna be so red in the face by the time this confrontation was over, and you knew felt bad for him. Things would be pretty awful for you too though.

"Alright Ed, listen up." You pointed to truck and he nodded slowly.

"Thats Jeff's truck, right?"

"Yes it is. Now they're probably here looking for you. I mean, you didn't go home last night so...their feeble minds are probably going to assume we got laid or something" His expression became slightly worried, eyes darting down to your lips for half a second once again. You wished he would stop. It was making you feel things. "Just don't take anything they say personally. They know I wouldn't do that, and I'm sure they know that you wouldn't want to sleep with me anyway." You joked, laughing and punched his arm lightly. "They're just going to try to be funny. Don't worry about it." You reassured him.

"Yeah, I could see that happening. Alright, I'll be prepared." He smiled, his face turning a light shade of pink.

Things were definitely not as awkward and you could for sure say you knew him a lot better than before. He didn't seem to be as quiet or shy around you as much anymore, and there were less and less moments of silence.

The both of you made it up to your apartment. Opening the door you find Stone, Jeff and Mike sitting on your couch. Stone is the first to spring up from his seat as he heard the door being opened. Before you could even enter your apartment, he was already shouting.

"Dani! Eddie didn't come home last night and we think he might not be okay, like where would he have even spent -" Stone stopped mid sentence seeing Eddie trail behind me. His expression went from that of shock, to contorted in distaste.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He sounded...mad? Thats not what you expected. You thought he was thinking you got lucky, congratulate you and tease you about it. You were pretty confused at this point.

Jeff stood and gently patted Stone on the back, but all he could do was stare at you. You were so fucking confused. You turned to look at Eddie whom had a confused look on his face too.

"How could you Dani? To me-to us? Why would you go sleep with hi-" You could NOT believe what you were hearing? What the fuck? You cut him off before he could finish.

"Stone, what the fuck are you talking about, us? What does that even mean? First of all, I did not sleep with Eddie." Eddie shook his head.

"Second of all, who are you to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with? Last I checked, you were my best fucking friend, Stone not my guardian." You were pissed. You could practically see fumes seeping out of his ears. Then, he fucking said it.

"Because I'm in fucking love with you! Can't you see that? Don't be so blind. I'm tired of pretending." He spat, and made his way over to the door. He swung it open and left your apartment.

Huh?

You didn't know what to say, or do. You just kinda stood there, trying to process this information. The guys were...right? Eddie was right... One of your best friends was in love with you, but you didn't feel the same way. How could you tell him that? It would surely hurt him, and thats not what you wanted to do. You wanted to make him happy but from the means of a friend. You were lost in conflict and started to feel a bit sick.

"I need to sit down." Your eyes fell to the ground and you slowly made your way over to your couch. You felt an arm slide around your shoulder to assist in leading you to the couch. It was Eddie. Once you sat down, he sat on the small coffee table across from you. Jeff sat to your left, and to his left, Mike. Jeff put a comforting hand on your knee and spoke up.

"So, what happend last night then?" He spoke, eyes darting between the both of you.

"Shouldn't one of us go after him? Make sure he's okay?" Your tone was filled with worry, completely dodging his question.

"Stone will be fine. He'd probably rather be alone for a little while." Mike stated, looking at you with concern.

"When I had got here Eddie left. I thought he was going home and I heard it start to pour rain outside, my window was open so I went close it. I seen Eddie standing at the old Mac's across the road. It didn't look like it was going to stop rainig anytime soon and it didn't." Eddie was nodded his head, confirming the events. "I didn't want him to get sick because you guys need him on that stage. So I asked him to sleep on the futon. Look, his fucking pillow and blanket is still there." You pointed over to it, as Jeff nodded his head slowly, understanding.

"I believe you. I was kinda hoping, y'know...but, whatever." He shrugged his shoulders, a playful smile on his lips. You punched his shoulder.

"What about Stone, you guys. How long have you known? What am I supposed to do? He's my best friend I dont want to hurt him. But I just...I don't...uh-" Miked interrupted you.

"Feel the same way?" You nodded. It was quiet for a few moments, until Jeff spoke up.

"He'll be okay. Just talk to him. It's gonna be hard at first but he'll come to terms and move on. Might take a while, but it'll happen. We've known for years." Years?!

"Stone will understand. As long as he still has you in his life, I think thats the most important thing to him." Mike encouraged.

"Thanks guys." You gave them a small smile.

"So where were you guys coming from? And hey, didn't you say you had a class today?" Mike asked.

"Yeah I skipped it. Woke up late." They looked at you like you had a second head.

"I know, I know. I never do that which is why I don't feel so guilty."

They laughed. "You always were a trooper." Jeff joked.

"So we were coming back from breakfast. I changed his world with breakfast burritos." You pointed to Ed and he smiled.

"Its true, those things were fucking delicious." He spoke truthfully. Everyone laughed.

“Well, we should probably get going. I gotta work in an hour.” Jeff stated as he looked at the clock.

“Alright, I’ll see you sometime soon, okay?” You stood and gave him a tight hug, and he rubbed your back comfortingly.

“Don’t think too much about this Stone thing, alright? He’ll be okay, just give him some time.” You nodded, letting go.

“I’ll go find him. I’ll call you later and let you know how he is, that sound good?” Mike said as he came to hug you too.

“Thanks, Mikey.” You were so happy to have these guys in your life.

“You two have fun now! But not too much fun...” Jeff winked and slammed the door shut before you could even scold him.

You snorted. “What a bunch of buffoons.” Ed laughed, standing up from his seat on the coffee table.

“I’m sorry you had to be here to witness that..”You apologized, not meeting his gaze.

“For what? You did nothing wrong.”

You debated what to say next. “I just...I don’t know. Stuff like this doesn’t usually happen to me and I don’t know what to do..” You trailed off. You sat back down on your couch, and covered your face with your hands. You sighed deeply. You felt the couch seep in beside you, signalling Eddie had taken a seat. It was quiet for a few moments.

“Maybe do something to occupy your mind?” He suggested. “Maybe try doing some of your art.”

You thought about it for a moment, it probably would make you feel better, but you didn’t want to be alone. That was for sure. Then, you thought of something.

“Paint with me?”

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