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yongtxt · 5 years ago

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turn back time [taeyong]

word count: 6.2k words

characters: amnesiac!taeyong x girlfriend!reader ft. doyoung

genre: angst [meant to be just melancholic so no crying !]

warnings: few mentions of a car crash and some wounds. taeyong suffers from amnesia. it’s a couple trying to learn how to love again.

author’s note: yesterday was my first year anniversary here on tumblr and i give you a short angst fic of the first nct member i wrote for as a present. anyway. i need a break from angst after this also i need to stop writing people getting hurt/wounded???? [stream turn back time by wayv later <3] / unedited

Taeyong awoke to harsh fluorescent lighting filling his vision, a throat so dry it could compare to a desert, and the muffled cries of his lover.

His arms ached, muscles extremely sore that it hurt him to even lift his limb. He wanted to reach out to you, to run his fingers through your hair, and to tell you that everything was gonna be okay—he would work it out with you, together.

You had Taeyong’s hospital gown clutched in your hands, soaking the fabric with your weeping. WIth your face buried into his blanket, it took you a second to realize that your boyfriend had already woken up from his deep slumber. Your cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, dropping your hold on him almost immediately as if it was hot to touch.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, voice cracking. Fumbling to wipe your tears, you scrambled to your feet. “Let me grab some food, okay? You must be hungry.”

Taeyong did his best to shake his head, “No, you don’t have to. Please just stay beside me.”

A beat passed and you could only stare at him. The hesitance you exuded didn’t pass unnoticed, you sat back on the stool beside him and stayed tight-lipped. Taeyong sighed through his nose, a bubble of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his attention darting everywhere but to you.

“How are you feeling? Do you think you can move better now?” You asked, soft and wary—afraid of what his response would be and he didn’t like the sound of it not one bit, but he didn’t let it show.

“I can move my head better than yesterday.” Taeyong pointed out, craning his neck enough to prove it to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face and his chest floods with an unfamiliar warmth. He added, “My joints just hurt since I’m kept on bed rest all day.”

“Well, you’re getting released tomorrow.” You said, subconsciously outstretching your hand to brush off the fallen lock of his hair from his forehead. He blushed at the contact of your fingertips and you immediately retracted it back. “Uh, your doctor wanted me to tell you that you should start walking around again if you can to avoid using crutches.”

“I’ll try to go for a walk tonight.” He nodded his head, staring at his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Can you help me drink some water?”

“I’m sorry, of course.” Your cheeks reddened the same way his were, fumbling to punch in a straw inside a bottle of water as you propped it up for him to sip on. Of course he was thirsty, he had been asleep for almost half the day.

Your fingers were trembling, he noticed. Before he could point it out, the door slammed open and you were forced to draw away his drink. You haven’t been told of anyone visiting so it came as a surprise to see your boyfriend’s childhood best friend panting in the doorway, holding himself up on the frame while he gawked at Taeyong’s wounded form.

Bruises of varying sizes littered across Taeyong’s pale skin and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead, his bleached hair peeking out from the bloodied cloth. A large gash can be seen trailing along his jawline and although it had been healing nicely, a mark remained. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken from fatigue and a lack of nutritional intake, much like you.

He didn’t look well, Doyoung thought with a pitiful gaze Taeyong was already too familiar with.

“Aren’t you gonna come in?” Taeyong chuckled, grinning at Doyoung who frowned at him. He rushed to his side and mindlessly took him into an embrace, cradling his bandaged head into his shoulder. You felt hot tears pool into the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away before they could see.

He berated him, the way he always would when Taeyong got himself into trouble that could’ve been easily avoided if he would just think straight. The blizzard, Doyoung kept bringing it up, he shouldn’t have driven when the weather was too dangerous.

“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Taeyong said, reassuring him before Doyoung could burst into tears. He wouldn’t know how to handle him if he got too emotional, he doubted you’d be able to.

“Why were you driving, anyway? What was so important that you had to risk your life to travel?” Doyoung huffed and you rose from your seat from instinct, about to insert yourself into their conversation when Taeyong grasped your fingers.

You stared at him and you were suddenly reminded that he must’ve put himself in pain to stop you. You sat back down and he smiled, he wanted to say it himself and you could only respect his wishes. You hadn’t been able to inform Taeyong’s friends about his car crash as it had been only a week since it happened, all of your time was spent tirelessly tending him back to health. You didn’t have the time to share the unfortunate news.

“Apparently, I was on my way back to Seoul from visiting my family.” Taeyong said, gently grazing your skin away from his best friend’s sight. At Doyoung's confused knot on his forehead, he continued, “My mom told me that they couldn’t make me stay because it was the night of my anniversary with my girlfriend.”

“Taeyong, why are you talking like that—”

“The doctor said I hit my head on the steering wheel pretty badly.” Taeyong laughed mirthlessly, and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. “Bad enough that my memory got a bit fuzzy. Retrograde amnesia, I think that’s what they called it.”

Doyoung blinked, lips gaped at Taeyong who only smiled at him. He looked up at you, a sudden onslaught of anxiety coursing through him that you could just see him almost shake in worry. He whispered to you, “Amnesia? How far back can he remember?”

You bit your lip, turning away and loosening the grip you had on Taeyong’s hand, but he held it tighter with a strength you were sure he was only forcing. You said, “The beginning of third year in college.”

“What?!” Doyoung choked on his spit, leaping from his seat in shock. You offered him an unopened bottle of water but he shook his head. “You’re already a working man, Taeyong! We graduated two years ago, man!”

You did your best to calm Doyoung down, much to Taeyong’s appreciation. You knew where his emotions were coming from so you had to explain why it happened in a manner he would understand. You said that the blizzard was so strong that the roads had iced up and due to the speed he was driving, the car had slipped and crashed into a tree. He hit his head and the sheer impact caused trauma to his brain and made him lose his memories.

The doctors diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia, a form of memory loss that occurs from a traumatic brain injury. It prevented Taeyong from remembering what happened prior to his accident. His recovery was supposed to be gradual, it will take time for him to regain the memories he had lost but it wasn’t assured.

Taeyong doesn’t like telling what happened because people’s first reaction to his amnesia was to resort to aggression. As if their anger and frustration could magically make him remember what he had lost. You didn’t think of it that way, on one quiet night you told him that maybe it was just their desperation to bring him back to the person he was.

He thought it was selfish of them, but you kept your lips shut and refused to tell him that losing two years was a big deal to some people. Although he was still himself, quirks and habits are the same as you’ve first witnessed them, little aspects of him were different; some just different enough that others would do a doubletake to make sure it was really him. The person he is now just wasn’t exactly the person he used to be.

A slightly-off Taeyong, he grimly made a joke about.

You wanted to reassure him, comfort him that he didn’t need to try so hard to be who he used to be. You know despite all of his nonchalance and soft smiles, he was hurting. He instilled it in himself that he disappointed his loved ones by being a person they weren’t accustomed to. But you couldn’t, you weren’t in the place to when his last memories of you were when you have only first met during the anthropology class in your third year of college.

“God, that means you can’t even remember your own girlfriend.” Doyoung mumbled, mostly to himself but you heard it clearly enough as if he personally made it a point to stomp on your heart. Taeyong frowned.

“Shut it, Doyoung.” You grumbled, tears threatening to spill again. You and Taeyong have been so emotionally exhausted that having another person in the hospital room usually would lift both of your spirits, but Doyoung proved himself to be a disturbance instead.

Hours were spent lounging around with Doyoung talking Taeyong’s ears off with stories that he had missed in the past two years, how he was the one who had forced him into the class he shared with you and how coerced him into asking you out before he graduated; a bunch of stories that it almost made Taeyong wish that everything could just go back to the way it was.

He wasn’t the Taeyong they speak so fondly off, he was merely just the shell of him. Still, Doyoung had brought out a smile that you had been unable to make and for that, Taeyong gave him his thanks. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and sniffled.

Doyoung left not too long after, but he promised to visit soon. He knew you needed the support. You were left alone with your boyfriend again and the silence envelops you whole. When you excused yourself to grab a much-needed coffee, Taeyong sank to the hospital bed and succumbed to his tears.

This was his last night in the hospital and it had felt like the longest. He was out like a light but you stilled in your chair beside his bed, fumbling with the ends of his blanket in worry of tomorrow. Not much had progressed in your relationship with him. He was still embarrassed, timid in how he acted around you. You asked if he wanted to go home with you and he reassured you that he would be fine with it, but the panic you felt was still prominent.

Morning came and after what seemed like hours of finishing what was left of Taeyong’s documents in the hospital, it was time to finally leave. You hailed a taxi and you couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s sudden rigidness inside the vehicle. Swallowing your reluctance, you took his hand and forced his attention on you throughout the entire drive. He was thankful that you were able to distract him.

The apartment you shared with Taeyong was small but humble, the third unit in an old building that you swore was built in an era before the current. Thin walls and a poorly constructed floor, it was all both of you could afford when you’ve decided to move in together fresh out of college. Despite its imperfections, it was home as long as you had him with you.

With the creaky sounds your front door made, you heard the familiar sound of soft thudding of feet run across the wooden floors to welcome your arrival. Your heart leaped at the sight of Lala, the three-year-old Labrador you adopted with Taeyong, bolting towards your direction with her tongue sticking out.

Taeyong trailed behind you, drinking the place in. His gaze kept on darting from one place to another, his lips parted in amazement at the thought that he really had the courage to move out of his parents’ house to live with his girlfriend. It looked lived in, bits of his and your personalities showing in the way it was decorated and cluttered. The clashing of color schemes and wood tones almost made him want to laugh over how it was clearly furnished purely on indecision and compromise.

He was too busy familiarizing himself to notice that Lala had jumped on him. Your heart squeezed at the sight.

You crouched down to your knees, reaching over to scratch the back of Lala’s ear. You chuckled at Taeyong’s confusion on how to approach the hyperactive puppy, “Her name is Lala, she’s three years old. We adopted her on your birthday last year.”

Taeyong nodded with widened eyes, getting down to your level to attempt to pet her. He commented offhandedly, “Good girl, Lala.”

“She definitely prefers you over me, too.” You mumbled, watching Lala cave into Taeyong’s touch. She hadn’t seen him in a while so you wondered if her attachment to him would waver but it seemed to only grow stronger, the same way you were with your boyfriend. “I had my friend take care of her while we were gone.”

Taeyong kept his quiet and you swallowed the lump in your throat. His doctor told you to treat him especially kindly since he was in a vulnerable state, but you should instill a sense of normalcy. You were instructed to treat him as you normally would, he needed to be reminded of the lifestyle he used to have little by little.

The idea of having to consume copious amounts of medicines every day was already exhausting and gruesome, he even had the bandage around his head to deal with. He had a lot on his plate, you wouldn’t dare add to it by pressuring him to become the adult he doesn’t remember that he was. In his mind, he was still twenty years old and was living in a rickety dorm with Doyoung; it will surely take time for him to grow out of it.

You told Taeyong to go sit down on the stool across the island, to make himself comfortable while you prepared dinner—attempt to prepare dinner. Racking all the recipes his mother had taught you over the years, you wanted to cook a meal he would enjoy and reminisce over.

“Doyoung told me you didn’t like cooking very much.” You heard Taeyong’s voice said, a voice free of malice and full of genuine interest. He said, “It makes sense that I should be the one making food for us right now. You know, for all the trouble I’ve caused you the past week.”

You shook your head firmly, turning around so your back faced him. You didn’t want to let him see your ever-growing frown. You sighed, “Don’t worry, I can handle this. Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against the palm of his hand. He wished he could do more for you, but you weren’t letting him; you had your wall up as high as he had his.

Shuffling to where your coffee maker was, you quickly fixed a cup of coffee for him as if you moved purely on instinct. Taeyong watched you in amusement as you slid a blue mug to his way. The paint of its design was chipping off the edges and it had a small crack on the handle, it definitely had seen better days but he felt oddly drawn to it.

You saw him eyeing it out and you chuckled, “We went out on a pottery class for a date once and I made that mug for you. You refused to drink coffee without it, but I think it’s time for us to throw it out and buy you a better one.”

“No!” Taeyong interjected almost immediately, waving his hands to dismiss your idea. “I like it. We’re keeping it.”

Your chest ached, but you were unable to pinpoint the feeling that made it so, “If you say so.”

Taeyong was a picky man when it came to his coffee. He wasn’t an avid drinker of dark and rich brews, often preferred the sweeter and creamier side of the spectrum. The drink you made for him tasted just right, the perfect balance, and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. It made him laugh, how his taste in college didn’t seem to change in his twenty-three-year-old body.

“You can go look around while I cook.” You remarked, jutting your chin towards the rest of the apartment that he has yet to see as you run your hands under the running water. He followed your gaze and shook his head. You quirk an eyebrow, “You sure? It’ll take a bit before these noodles cook.”

Lala encircled his feet before cozying herself on top of his shoes, refusing to leave his sight. He laughed, bending down to pick her up and place her onto his lap. With his hands deep into the puppy’s golden fur, he asked, “Is Lala supposed to be a reference to the Teletubbies?”

You turned the stove on and plopped in the boxed pasta you retrieved from the pantry, “Your nephew loved the Teletubbies at some point so we made him name her.”

A visible twinkle appeared in Taeyong’s eye at the mention of his nephew. He’d only seen photos of him recently, the last he remembered of him was that he was only an infant cradled in his sister’s arms. And as if a barrier was put down, he asked if you could tell him more about what he had missed in his personal life. If Taeyong from the past trusted you enough to move in and adopt a dog together⁠—which he couldn’t believe he was able to do in college, he had to trust you, too.

You gladly entertained his curiosities while you prepared a mediocre version of his mother’s Jajangmyeon. As obscure some of his questions were, you were as honest as you could be. From how he managed to pass his senior year to how he got the job at his company, he asked it all while stuffing his face with dark noodles.

In your eyes, he looked like a kid who wanted to know what his older brother did, to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. He wanted to absorb so much information, it almost pained you to look at him listening to you with an expression so clearly resembling envy.

He cut you off and called out to you with a voice lower than before, sadder but still hesitant. You glanced at him in worry that you were rambling too much. He averted his attention away from you, “You’re crying.”

Raising a hand to your cheek, it was wet. You coughed in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He mumbled, meekly offering his half-empty drink to you.

You hopped out of your seat beside him, carrying your empty bowl to the sink. You stayed a bit longer away from his line of view, wanting to keep your emotions in check for Taeyong’s first night back in the apartment. You didn’t want to scare him away, he was getting more comfortable and you succumbing to your feelings would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.

You turned the tap on and cracked your neck, “I’ll clean up here while you can go take a bath. The bathroom is next to the bedroom.”

He let out a breath and nodded, lingering for a moment before ultimately deciding that it would be best to leave you be. He didn’t know how he could comfort you when he was the reason for your distress, it would only hurt you more if he tried to console you of things he didn’t know of.

He spotted a box on the coffee table on his way to the bathroom, a bright red box with doodles scribbled onto its sides. Glancing at you, he was about to ask what it was inside when he clamped his mouth shut. He sat down on the couch and let his curiosity get the best of him, reaching to fiddle with the latch that sealed it closed.

Inside were piles of polaroid films, photos were not only of you and him but also of his friends from college and people he had yet to remember. An assortment of knickknacks filled it to its brim, variations of trinkets that included movie tickets and receipts. It was a box made to help Taeyong remember the memories he had lost, the connections he had with people that he had forgotten.

Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, it must’ve been your doing. You probably asked around for others to help assemble the box, his heart swelled at the thought. You were working hard to make himself and his environment feel normal after losing a good chunk of his memories, he had to work hard as well.

His fists were shaking, his knuckles turning a shade paler than it already was. Lala snaked into the crook of his arm and whimpered at her owner’s change of composure. He laughed humorlessly, scratching her belly in appreciation.

Shutting the box closed, he sighed. He made his way towards the unfamiliar bathroom and filled the tub. Doyoung always told him that a bath could melt all of his troubles away, and how he wished it was that easy.

Taeyong came out of his long bath with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, blushing as he hastily pulled on the clothes you had prepared for him in the bedroom. You remained unfazed as you waited for him in a change of sleepwear, he realized that you might’ve already seen him naked before and the thought of it only worsened the state of his cheeks. He perched on the edge of the bed once he was finished.

You grabbed his ointment and attended to the injury on the side of his head, a gash that the doctors had sewn back together. You had a light hand, he noted, but the ache persisted. It burned when the tip of its applicator grazed along the stitches. He reached out to toy with the hem of your shirt, to divert his attention from the pain. You wrapped a bandage around his head as quickly as you could.

You mumbled, “It’s all done.”

“Thank you.” He smiled up at you and you returned it halfheartedly. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, don’t! This bed is yours, too.” You said, holding onto his wrists before he could make a home on your busted couch that functioned as Lala’s chew toy half the time. “I know how much your back hurts because of the hospital bed so please, sleep here.”

Taeyong looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face but after seconds of contemplation and mental debate, he relented only if you’d use the bed as well. You sighed and caved in.

He crawled to his side of the bed, making you wonder if there was an inkling of a chance that he remembered how much he preferred his half that faced the windows. You shuffled to your side, mindful to not cross any boundaries. This would be his first time sleeping next to you and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by being too close for comfort.

You switched to your side, away from his sight. The awkwardness was suffocating you, it seemed like you were the only one affected by it because soon you felt his side dip as he made himself more comfortable while you were frozen like a statue. You were nearing the edge of the bed, so far the end that one wrong move would make you fall out of it.

“Taeyong, are you asleep?” After an hour of silence, you spoke up but in hopes that he was already sleeping.

Unfortunately for you, he hummed in response. You could feel the blankets shift, making it known that he was facing your direction now that you’ve called him. At your lack of reply, he must’ve thought you didn’t hear him so he cleared his throat, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, look. I just want to say that if you want to break up with me, I’ll understand.”

“What?” He slowly sat up in confusion, hefting himself up with his elbows. You refused to look at him, gnawing on your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as if you were a kid caught by your parents awake past your bedtime.

“This situation we’re in, you don’t have to force yourself to be with me if you don’t want to.” You managed to choke out, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to continue living who you are now, I’ll just hinder you from moving on if I only remind you of the memories you lost.”

He called out your name, much sterner and different from the gentle tone he always used on you. You were suffering worse than he was, that he knew, but he didn’t know just how much until you’ve finally cracked—the insecurities and worries you’ve hidden from him, pouring out all at once and he didn’t know what to do with it.

You were sobbing into the sheets and he could only rub circles onto your back as a failed attempt at comfort. He wanted to tell you so many things, to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking the way you assumed he would be.

Taeyong thought of you so highly. You were someone who carried all of his burdens and stories that made him the person that he was, someone who had so much love for him despite not having it reciprocated back, someone who just wanted him to forgive himself for not being who he was and to start living again. You weren’t just some stranger to him, but the world had robbed him of you.

He ignored his hesitance and whispered under the blanket of the night, “You might’ve lost the Taeyong that you love but I promise I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m worthy of the same love you’ve once given to me.”

“Taeyong—”

“It’ll take some time and I can’t assure you that things will be the same as it was but I swear, I will never forget you again and we’ll be happy.”

There were a lot of things to do, but none of those things were as important to him as lying here next to you, to pick up what remained of you from his ruins. He knew full well that he wasn’t the only victim. He was aware that you were also trying your best for him, to hold onto what’s left of the pieces you used to love about him.

“I really want this to work out.” You admitted amid your hiccups and sniffles, his heart broke at the sound of it. “I know I haven’t lost you yet.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” He mumbled, running his nimble fingers through the locks of your hair as a serene silence filled the room as you didn’t say anything back. After a week of being in the hospital, your heavy breathing was enough to lull him into his sleep.

You glanced at him for the first time since you had laid down, observing his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. A small smile appeared on your face, he looked tired even though he was already deep in his sleep. You whispered in the dark, “Sleep tight, Taeyong.”

The cold of the night renders you restless once again, your eyes brimming with a bright red hue and utter exhaustion. You swung your legs to the side of the bed, careful enough to not wake your boyfriend who was already asleep. His gentle snores filled the room and you made your way towards the balcony connected to the bedroom with your phone in hand and a blanket draped around your shoulders.

It was another starless sky, you looked up and the absence of the twinkling lights comforted you. You pulled on the blanket closer as you fiddled on your phone, tapping on an option that directed you to a phone call.

“Don’t you know that it’s two in the fucking morning? What do you want?” Doyoung’s voice replaced the monotonous ringing, sounding raspy from what you assumed was his sleep.

“I wanted someone to talk to.” It was your honest answer and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for it.

He yawned, and for a moment you felt a twinge of guilt but it dissipated the second after, “How is Taeyong doing? You brought him back home earlier, right?”

“He’s okay. He’s passed out on the bed right now.” You said, stealing a glance at where Taeyong was sprawled across the bed. A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you haven't seen him more at peace. “It kinda sucks, you know? I want to be strong for him but I don’t know how long I will last.”

“You love him, right?”

“I do. So much.”

“Then just be patient, please. You’re the only person he can truly rely on right now.” Doyoung sounded like he was almost pleading with you, entrusting his best friend to you for a second time with the first was when you agreed to be Taeyong’s girlfriend. He said, “The love you shared is very strong, it conquered many hurdles and it will overcome this.”

You nodded your head, but you remembered Doyoung couldn’t see you. You whispered, “I’m scared, Doyoung.”

“Of?” He asked as quietly as you were being as if you wanted the conversation to only be a secret between each other.

“What if he never loves me again?” Your nail was shoved in between your teeth, your leg anxiously bouncing against the floor. It was a thought that had flitted about your mind but you have shoved it so far back in an attempt to ignore it but it demanded your attention, to face its possibility.

He scoffed at the other end of the line, “It’s Taeyong we’re talking about here. If he could fall in love at his first sight of you in college, he could easily do it again.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Doyoung. I needed that.”

“Alright, good night. Take care of yourself.” He said, dropping the call when you didn’t return his farewell.

You bent over the railing, tilting your chin up to face the night sky once more. You scoured the endless dark for even just a glimpse of a shooting star, for a chance to wish upon the universe to end this nightmare of yours. Your boyfriend was right there with you, but you have never felt more lonely.

Shutting your eyes closed, you let out another sigh. You were so tired of crying but it felt like the only thing you could do. You wondered just how much an average person could cry, maybe you’ve exceeded their record.

You left the balcony not too long after, padding back to the bed with a heavier heart. You sat on your side and twisted your body to face Taeyong. His mouth was parted and his cheek was pressed onto the pillow he held onto, a chuckle rolled off your tongue. Before you could even think of stopping yourself, you leaned onto him and placed a kiss onto his forehead.

A familiar heat rises to your neck at what you have done, you jumped from where you sat and raised a hand to your lips as if you’ve been burnt. You hadn’t been this intimate to him since the accident happened.

You grabbed your blanket and bolted to the living room, making do with the couch for the rest of the night as you forced yourself to sleep. Lala sleepily watched you in confusion.

Days passed and things have gone relatively the same as the first time Taeyong returned from the hospital, but you noticed the tension has lifted ever-so-slightly. You finally stopped crying yourself to sleep and eventually he has grown enough courage enough to express his affection—discreetly holding your hand and tugging you into his arms late at night to cuddle.

He was forced to stay at home for the remainder of the month while he recuperated, family and friends have visited from time to time to keep him company while you returned to your job. All the stories he’d heard about the two years he’d forgotten about, all of them were linked to you one way or another and it sparked a familiar surge of jealousy he had over his own self; that his past self made so many good memories with you that he could not never experience again.

His feelings for you were growing steadily, dare he said that he may have grown a crush on you. He could never admit it aloud for how pathetic it was, to have a crush on your own girlfriend. But it was your soft hair, your gentle hands, and your never-ending love and patience for him—these were some of the things he could not believe he had forgotten the existence of, how loved it made him feel, and he was ready to drown himself in it again.

Taeyong received a package when you were still at work one day, the label of his hometown address stamped at the right-hand corner indicated that it was from his parents. He ripped off the packaging tape with Lala nuzzling into his side.

He looked inside and saw his luggage. When he was rushed in an ambulance after his crash, his parents were the firsts to arrive at the hospital so the nurses had entrusted to them his belongings that were found in the wreckage. They failed to return it to him once he regained his consciousness as they hurried home soon after you had arrived, unable to stay much longer for personal matters.

He supposed that he only had clothes in it for he was told that he came from his hometown for a week-long visit. Rummaging through his clothes, he was surprised to see a velvet box hidden underneath the pile.

He took it out and gaped at it with owl-like eyes, he fumbled to flip it open. A shiny sparkle of a diamond reflected a faint rainbow from the sunlight that poured from the nearby window, he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Chuckling softly, he held the engagement ring close to his chest with a newfound source of encouragement.

You returned home that day to a romantic dinner. Candles of different scents were lit up and a torn picnic blanket covered the dining table, you took off your shoes and followed the scent of your boyfriend’s familiar cooking and spotted him in the kitchen. He donned a suit but he had on an apron to protect his front, busy with whatever meal he was preparing to see you peeking in from the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and Taeyong swore you had on the brightest smile that he had seen in a while.

He turned off the stove and threw aside his apron, he strode his way to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on top of your head and said, “I want to get to know you better.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“But I want to take you out on a first date—well, not out out, but you get what I mean.”

You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest but you suddenly drew back, the worried expression you had taking him by surprise. Raising a hand to his forehead, you asked, “Your heart is beating really fast. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

He stared at you incredulously before bellowing a laugh, a hearty laugh you’ve never heard before. Shaking his head, a small hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He gently pried off your hand from his face and placed a kiss onto the back of your hand. He said, “I’m okay now.”

You were unconvinced that he was, but his sudden affection made it easy for you to ignore it. He leaned down and stole a chaste peck onto your reddened cheek. He put his hand inside the pocket of his suit and nervously fiddled with the velvet box.

Taeyong lost so much of his memories, but he was ready to make new ones as long as he was with you. He will learn to love you again as much as he did before, if not more as long as the universe allowed his heart to.

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youwontlikethisblog · 4 years ago

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She's Ugly!

In a previous post I briefly touch on the subject of Armando and his belief of love. Here I will be going into more detail on my personal experiences as a writer who has written complex OC's with a very similar nature to that of Armando. I will be talking about some pretty heavy topics here so this is your warning if they make you uncomfortable or trigger you.

As a writer you spend most of your time doing research. You don't really spend it writing as more than 75% of the time is dedicated to researching the entirety of your story and it's characters. That means you research on mental health, social behaviors, addictions, learned behavior, coping mechanisms, ect... to create an authentic and realistic character.

When I was doing research for my OC, based on the past I wrote for them I had to look into the consequences that it carried into adulthood. I had to do a lot of research on coping mechanism and seggs addiction(I write really sad characters um but that's besides the point. Also try explaining your search history when you've got tabs and tabs about centers that deal with that addiction and so on).

[Below this I will talk about Seggsual Addiction and such. if it makes you uncomfortable skip to the next [RED]].

Doing that research I found out that many people who do have that addiction often use it as a form of escapism, control, or due to a lot more severe trauma. Sometimes it's just the feeling you get from that. Some have this addiction because of low self-esteem, feelings of worthlessness, and also because it's something they can control, or at the very least in their denial stage they believe that they can.

Seggs Addiction is when someone cannot function without it. When it becomes a problem in that person's life and ruins friendships, relationships, and their professional life. It can range from content watching to actual action of the addiction. This is a serious problem as it often leaves the people feeling helpless, dirty, lowers the quality of life and they feel a lot of shame due to it and it's something that they need professional help to be able to control and overcome, just like drug addiction.

[Now I will be talking about Armando and why this relates to this breakdown. You may proceed.]

Do I believe Armando has that? Not necessarily. I am not a professional so I cannot diagnose someone with that. I just know a lot about the subject because I had to do research on the topic in the past.

Armando is a complex character. The reason I bring this up is because he does show traits of it. Do his affairs get in the way of his professional life? Somewhat. Does it ruin friendships? Yes. Does it ruin relationships? Yes, mainly his.

We know Armando has had an array of women in his life. He is desired by a lot of women(I seriously do however believe that Mario is a s. addict).

I've thought about this part of his character for a while. I really don't know what Fernando Gaitan researched or what inspired him to write Armando's character so this is really just my own personal speculation and is not a fact of the show.

From the start we are told that Armando is a man with refined taste and high standards for his women. The secretaries tells this to Betty, if I'm not mistaken Marcela mentioned it once, and Mario tells him all the time.

A poster here in the tag made a post about the situation of Mario and Aura Maria and they did a really good job at breaking down this side of Armando; that he doesn't have a refined taste or high standards for women but rather he doesn't like involving himself with women who are not in the same social statues and circles as him because of the abuse of power that it entitles.

When he told Mario he wanted to fire Claudia for being crazy Mario reminded him of what he told him when he wanted Armando to fire Aura Maria and because of that Armando decides not to personally fire Claudia, it wasn't until Marcela asked for her head that he asked Hugo to fire her.

Now let me step away from the story and explain why I have this speculation.

Armando's parents aren't very active in his life. They're only there when it comes to the company or his relationship with Marcela(I already talked about his parents in The Art of Subtly in YSBLF post) now imagine that as you're growing up. That your parents aren't actively in your life unless you're achieving or accomplishing something. We know Armando has a sister that doesn't talk to their parents and is only in contact with him. That their mother possibly ruined her marriage to a man because he was poor. This tells us that his parents aren't the best.

A child who grows up having to overcompensate and over achieve grows up with low self-esteem, feelings of worthlessness, and other problems. They grow up believing that the only way they are worthy of love is by being perfect and they become obsessed with achieving perfection.

Due to this upbringing Armando is a control freak, neurotic, egocentric, and obsessed with perfection. He gets stressed out when things don't go his way. He has grown up in the fashion world and beauty has been fed to him that it is tall, thin, and above all has to be perfect.

A child is a product of their environment.

This has molded Armando into the person he is today.

On top of that Armando basically has his entire life planned out by his parents as a child who grew up hearing about the desire for him to be with Marcela to honor his parents best friends, for the good of the company, ect.

To receive his parents love he must do what his parents tell him, no exceptions. He must be the best at everything so he always aims high. In his proposal to be president he did exactly that.

Ironically Armando too is a people pleaser and feels like he has little to no control over his destiny.

So flings with Models become a form to cope. Though for a long time he enjoys those flings and what it entitles as it makes him feel good about himself, he is able to decide who he has a fling with but then it no longer is that.

My OC's addiction is driven by the desire of feeling wanted and needed. It boost her self-esteem though when it's over with she feels empty and hollow inside and we get a scene of Armando expressing those exact feelings to Mario the night he meets Ms. Colombia.

As they are leaving the cocktail Mario is upset that he[Armando] was leaving because he was so close to closing in on Ms. Colombia being his next conquest and that he couldn't change her for Marcela, who was always going to be there. Armando goes to explain something to him. He tells him that though at first he does get excited over the women and he does want to sleep with them that as soon as it's over he feels nothing anymore, that he doesn't enjoy it anymore.

This is part of a cycle and we see that.

Armando, before Betty, has the idea that if he falls in love it will be with a physically perfect woman who knows where she's standing and the only person that is like that is Marcela. He's got three reasons to marry her: He wanted her vote, his parents, and because she's what is mentioned above.

When Betty is introduce into his life she isn't what he expects in his dream woman. He expects perfection in a physical sense. However Betty has everything he wants in his dream woman in substance and personality.

He knows he likes Betty's personality but because she isn't physically perfect, he believes he isn't interested in her or attracted to her but because he likes her personality so much he believes he's entitled to her which is what drives his jealousy, it is not love.

Armando isn't in love with Betty here or at least not yet.

Betty embodies everything he wants and desires in a woman. She is humble, kind, respectful, unconditional, faithful, smart, like really smart and he likes that about her a lot, submissive and selfless.

However because the package isn't what he thinks is perfect, he cancels out. He denies that he likes her and he denies that he cares about her because of it.

So when Mario suggest for Armando to make Betty fall in love, Armando is apprehensive and disgusted by it.

Let's be honest, Betty isn't ugly! She's adorable! I will fight anyone who disagrees with this. Betty is cute and has always been cute.

I have spoken about Armando's emotional confusion a lot in the past few days but I haven't spoken about the mechanics of the confusion he is dealing with.

Denial is a strong defense mechanism. Subconsciously he has feelings for Betty and is attracted to her because of her personality but consciously he isn't. The mystery of the mind is never ending.

sub·con·scious /səbˈkänSHəs/

adjective of or concerning the part of the mind of which one is not fully aware but which influences one's actions and feelings. "my subconscious fear"

Armando's behavior towards finding out that Betty is in love has been dominated by his subconscious. However when it comes to facing those feelings he enters denial, therefore he cannot fathom the idea of ever being involved with someone so "ugly".

con·scious /ˈkän(t)SHəs/

adjective aware of and responding to one's surroundings; awake.

Armando is aware that Betty isn't his ideal of the type of women he is physically attracted to. He is aware the she isn't the standard of beauty.

Due to this he is refusing to listen to Mario.

Now that we understand this we can continue with the episode breakdown.

After Betty leaves, Armando is upset because Nicolas is the General Manager of Terra Moda(it feeds his paranoia talked about in the Betty, My Betty Part 3 post) .

Once again Armando and Mario switch roles. Armando is now aware of his conscious desires and he's sticking by them. Mario however is aware of Armando's subconscious desires.

Mario tries to level with him. He tells him that they can tell Betty to fire him but Armando rejects that by telling him that he does a good job and that Betty says he's important for Terra Moda, therefore Eco Moda, again this shows that Armando doesn't distrust of them in a professional sense. So they both agree that they shouldn't tell Betty to fire him. Mario first suggested that they reverse the seizure against Eco Moda and Armando goes on to reject that and explain why they can't do that. So Mario tells Armando that they need to think of something because it is a business deal involving them three; Armando, Himself, and Betty.

They agree that asking Betty to fire or take away so much responsibility from Nic could give way to Betty becoming hostile and resentful. Mario tells him that it would also be unfair since she's always been so unconditional with the both, Armando agrees.

We get to divides here. Two sides of the nickel.

Mario's priority and main concern is keeping Eco Moda and Armando as president for what it gives him.

Armando's priority is Betty's love life(Why else would he be so worried about her love life? A normal boss wouldn't care about your love life. Armando knows that Betty is a good and trustworthy employee and he said so himself).

Mario as always watched Armando carefully. The third and best option would have been to simply talk to Betty and be professionals and leave things alone and not doing anything about Betty's love life.

Mario tells Armando "Well the best option is to make Betty fall in love with you."

Armando goes on to say that he would never do that because he doesn't have the desire to and doesn't want to because Betty is ugly(this is why I said what I did above). Mario stops using the fear of losing Eco Moda and goes for the emotional because he knows that it will affect Armando's subconscious that will dominate him like it had been all day long.

"You're the perfect candidate because if it weren't for Nicolas showing up, I could have sworn she was in love with you. No, seriously, look at the way she looks at you, she's always been unconditional with you(he knows this is one of the qualities that Armando likes about Betty as he always lists it). My friend, if there's anyone that is capable of fighting against Nicolas Mora, it's the president of Eco Moda(here he is appealing to Armando's ego)."

What does Mario get out of all of this? Reputation in tact which allows him to continue living his best single life, which he said himself is his most prized possession. So it is important to him that Armando does whatever it takes to keep Betty from doing anything to get a husband(post Betty, My Betty! Part 3).

Fast forward Armando is in Marcela's apartment after the new collection launch and they're fighting because Armando let Betty into the event.

He not only defends his decision of inviting her as his guest but Betty's job and her role in the new collection. Marcela scoffs and they continue to argue.

What captured my attention though is that Armando tells Marcela that she can't be in a competing so absurd with a woman like Betty and shouldn't be in a feminine competition with her.

Armando is now go to the otherside of the room so we get his back as Marcela starts to speak ("You're wrong Armando I don't view her as a woman")and as she says "I am offended that you would think I feel she's a feminine competition-" Armando now looks at her confused.

Either he is confused because he doesn't understand what Marcela is trying to say or once again his subconscious is dominating him here.

The takeaway is that in Armando's mind Betty is a woman, ugly, but a woman nonetheless. He is confused as to why Marcela doesn't view her as a woman but still behaves the way she does.

We again get a classic scene of Betty writing in her diary as we hear her dialogue and get scenes of Armando in Marcela's bed.

We see Armando thinking about what Mario told him earlier that night.

When Mario told him that he would've sworm that Betty was in love with him[Armando] in that scene we didn't really get a reaction from him. He had a poke face but here, as he is thinking about it all he has a different look.

We stop getting a visual flashback, only an auditory one after Mario told him "I could've sworn she was in love with you." and the frame we're getting is Armando's face while laying in bed. He seems hopeful. The exact same expression he had when Betty told him that she didn't have anything with Nicolas.

We hear Mario's voice when he told him "If there's anyone who can fight Nicolas for Betty's love, it's the president of Eco Moda." Armando shifts in bed and covers his face. We then fade to Betty asleep on her bed and get another fade to Armando, this allows us to know that they are about to have another shared dream.

Armando is the mvp of this dream ss the camera focuses on him right away.

He seems happy in this dream as he runs around with Betty in a field with bright green grass and trees. He continues turns to look at Betty or allows Betty to lead him. Then in the dream Betty disappears and Armando is left alone, searching around him with a scared expression on his face until Betty finally appears in front of him. She nears him with her lips slightly puckered and Armando smiles and as well moves in closer until Betty runs away from him again.

The dreams shows us this two more times where Betty runs from him until the final time when Armando finds her and they near for a kiss we then get a real world Armando in bed shaking his head mumbling no, we can assume they are kissing in the dream.

This foretells what is to come. In Betty's eyes this is a good dream but we also know that due to her past Betty is afraid to love again which we're told this by her constant running away from Armando in the dream.

Armando's fear is brought to light in this dream that is of him losing Betty as it reoccurs more than once and each time he goes out to find her. There is times when he does want to kiss her but Betty pulls away and runs and then on the final one he becomes conscious in his dream(yes that happens, it's called lucid dreaming and sometimes it randomly happens).

The fact we kept getting fades from both Armando and Betty sleeping lets us know this was a dream simontainsly happening at the same time and it isn't until after they actually kiss that Armando's conscious starts to wake him up.

Marcela then finishes waking him up in the real world and asks Armando what he was dreaming, he tells her a horrible nightmare.

Again, Armando is aware that he doesn't find Betty to be his ideal perfect woman or the beauty standard. You know, she's "ugly" so having something physical even in a dream is a nightmare to him. The thing to take note of is that he was enjoying the beginning of that dream and it demonstrates his subconscious feelings.

We already Betty loved that dream.

The next morning Marcela mentions that if he doesn't talk about the dream he must secretly want it to come true.

His coping mechanism towards this entire situation has been denial. It protects him from having to face his true feelings and fears. It protects him from something he isn't ready to deal with yet.

He starts choking on his juice and coughing as Marcela watches him.

Marcela telling him this pushes him to face those fears of his, the fear that he does like Betty and that he does care about her more than just his employee however again, he is in denial therefore unable to understand this.

[You know I will write a post about how Aura Maria and Freddy are a parallel of Betty and Armando.]

Neither Betty or Armando talk about their dream to anyone, or at least the real content of said dream, which based on what Marcela insinuated, Armando secretly wants that dream to come true.

This is a fact because later on when Armando has that nightmare of Betty making out with Nicolas inside the new car they got, he tells Marcela about the nightmare or at least some distorted version of it, because he doesn't want that nightmare to come true. This time though he doesn't talk about it.

Betty clarifies the situation between Nicola and her roll in Terra Moda and Armando thanks her for it.

When she goes into her office Armando tells Mario that he's right about making Betty fall in love.

This next scene I already broke down in another post. Armando suggest Mario for the job because he knows that Mario would never fall in love with Betty but at least it would secure the company. However since Mario would never fall in love with Betty that would mean that he wouldn't have competition since you know these two pigs share everything.

Not only that but it would mean that he gets to avoid and deny his feelings without the worry of Nicolas and Betty ending up together and Nicolas turning her against him.

Armando tells Mario that he gets that it's the more logical thing that he[Armando] is the one to make Betty fall in love but that it's not morally correct.

He gets angry as he tells him that he can't do that to her, a woman who has been very special to him, too special towards him. Again this shows that Armando takes notice and likes that Betty treats him the way she does and because of that he doesn't want to hurt her and he knows that she doesn't deserve that.

However Mario then pulls the "your parents will be so disappointed and angry at you if you lose the company. So do you have to decide whether you'll be a rat to your parents or Betty."

As they discuss the sinister plan they solely based the problem in the physicality. As Armando even said himself the only bad thing about the plan was that Betty was ugly. If Betty wasn't ugly Armando wouldn't be afraid to face his feelings therefore be upfront about them.

However because she is it clashes with all his other traits. His ego, vanity, obsession with perfection and the fact he was unable to be in control over who he ends up falling in love with or liking.

I don't know what worse, Armando knowing how selfish the plan is against Betty and still going along with the it for the sake of the company and his unwillingness to admit to his parents that he was wrong or Mario knowing exactly what's going and how to manipulate Armando to do this and not caring about his best friends feelings and the guilt he will carry on as long as Armando remains president for his own greed.

In the next post I will breakdown the scene in which Armando drunkenly confesses somewhat his very confused feelings.

'Til next time :)

Ps. Sorry for all this typos! I'm an insomniac so I usually write these sleep deprived lol.

#armando mendoza #don armando #armando ysblf #beatriz pinzón solano #beatriz pinzon solano #betty la fea #betty ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #mario calderon #marcela valencia #betty pinzón solano

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hei-ch0u · 4 years ago

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It’s long...(fair warning) ✰

Shingeki no Kyojin 139 (Theories)

Since everyone is throwing around their theories from the wild to the more likely, I thought I should contribute. After all, it will be the last time we can theorise this amazing manga full of all its twists and turns. Like most, I do agree with the popular fan theories simply because this manga is consistently unpredictable with each chapter. Let’s face it, some stories are easily picked apart these days and finding one that continuously has you thinking about what could occur is a winning tale. So first, I will start off by saying that I am so sad that Shingeki no Kyojin is coming to an end. But! I will never forget this amazing manga as I have grown so attached to the characters and the story as you can tell from the past nearly 9 years of running this blog. So, thank you yams for being such a genius! Regardless of the ending, it will go down in history as one of the best stories I personally have ever read and witnessed.

With typical fan theories, I won’t go into them too much as I feel the concept of the “time loop” has been written about to filth and I think it is very blatantly clear at this point that the concept of a time loop is very likely in one way or another given the overall concept within aot/snk in general - there is a obvious manipulation of past, present and future. I will hold my hands up and say that I definitely do agree with ‘some’ popular fan theories and will list a fair few below in brief detail - as I do think they are highly likely to be true in some way or at least implied within the last chapter. Now, with the usual leak dates coming up on the horizon, I wanted to put my input in before hand. Although, because of recent prosecution warnings for leaking the final chapter - I would advise others just to wait for the 9th of April on official release for concrete facts rather than speculations and leaks simply because we have seen with past few chapters that a lot of false spoilers get released and I think with the final chapter it would be wise to wait as I have previously stated on here that it will be the ‘revelation’ chapter that ties this manga together.

So! With the typical fan theories, we see the likes of:

Eren being the baby daddy to Historia’s baby

Eren sacrificing his reason for living - freedom. By being the greater evil to bring about the greater good

The baby itself could become the new beast titan or baby Eren/Ymir reborn

Eren isn’t dead, but on Paradis by way of transferring his subconscious into a crystallised version of himself

Eren and Ymir have struck a deal

And of course - the time loop concept

…The list is endless of popular fan theories. It would be silly not to agree with any of them given the story and where we are currently at, its very clear that Historia, Eren and Ymir will play a big part somehow in the final chapter (if not id be genuinely shocked) since majority of the past few chapters they have been absent in full form and I feel this needs to be explained. After all we still haven’t seen the full extent of the memories of past/future that Eren was aware of from his contact with Historia and his connection with Ymir in Paths. We saw 137 being predominantly Armin based, 138 being Mikasa based and I think it is only reasonable given his absence as the initial protagonist that Eren will be the revelation within 139. Ultimately culminating EMA / the trio as a whole. We began with them, so it only makes sense to end with them (albeit separately as individuals).

Moving on, as you can see I agree with said fan theories as I think any route could be possible! The thing with Shingeki no Kyojin is that it has many hidden ‘Easter eggs’ (how fitting given its easter), whether it be in the background of scenes, characters wording, placement of scenes/characters, flashbacks, paths and even in the opening and ending credits of the anime we see hidden meanings through imagery. It has all been laid out very well for our finding, its just if we have an intuitive enough imagination to pick it apart and figure things out. This leads on to my own theory/theories (it can go any way and I wont sugarcoat it - I could be reaching)

I generally have 2 theories that run about in my head with how the story itself could turn out or how it works. Both theories kind of tie together in one way or another featuring predominantly Eren and then Mikasa or overall ‘Ackerman’ blood/gene concept and its potential involvement in control of said time loop. I will do my best to include manga panels to give visual insight to the points.

To begin, I want to touch on Mikasa's “dream” in 138 - although devastating, I think it is being taken as the opposite of what it was and personally I see many looking at it through rose tinted glasses. This wasn’t an alternative universe (in my opinion), this was Mikasa’s Ideal life - her dream. When it comes to Eren as a connection to Mikasa, he is her reason for being, even in death she chooses not to part with him for her own good and creates a dreamlike reality for herself to make herself go through with the deed. She as a character has dominantly surrounded her existence on Eren, he is categorised many times within the manga as ‘home’ - like other fan theories have stated, it has been mentioned many times Mikasa referencing the word ‘home’ and also how she wants to ‘be close to him’ because it gives her comfort and strength. The Ackermans as a whole have attachments to people and this is where they ultimately gain strength from. Without any of the Ackermans ‘attachments’ being in danger or being killed, their powers wouldn’t be awakened and without them I feel their strength almost weakens until they find a new reason for living to keep moving forward. I’ll touch more on the ‘Ackerman’ theory later as its one of the open loopholes still currently alive within the manga.

Mikasa has always been a character that confuses me, particularly with the way she acts and things she says or thinks. She has said many things that don’t make sense unless she has a certain belief system or knows of things from past lives.

Examples:

As you can see and I will produce more evidence of such comments further in. She implies that she either believes in reincarnation or she is aware of different periods within the said time loop. She speaks of starting over, being dead and returning and implies in different ways that she is scared of the same thing happening again. The last panel - what plan is she on about here? Her own plan. In my opinion it is - "Don't let Eren die". As we have seen, that may be what has to happen. It's fate. She interferes with this and never lets him go.

Mikasa does have an unhealthy bond with Eren, I do think he loves her ( I’m not dismissing that ) but do I think its the type of intense love she feels? no. Some things she has came out with has even shocked other characters and countless times her comrades have tried to ‘break the barrier’ to get her to realise her way of thinking when it comes to Eren is unhealthy. Hence why I think we seen Jean in this particular scene below so frustrated

not because he himself has feelings for her, but because she’s not letting them get through to her that she is refusing to believe Eren could ultimately be a changed person (which he definitely is, I’ll not go into my rant of why he isn’t ‘evil or a ‘monster’ because i’ve done so already) but overall, Mikasa constantly makes excuses for Eren and doesn’t recognise it, her life revolves around being close to Eren and she gets very emotionally troubled at the idea of not being with him or him ultimately taking a path that doesn’t involve her. We even seen Annie question her and this wasn't many chapters ago and she replies with the same mindset of bringing back "the old Eren". He is not the person he once was particularly as a child. Something that is implied at beginning of manga, it opens with them as children and somehow links with 138.

As stated by Armin below we see him even explaining to Mikasa that Eren’s never close, he always takes his own route and that ultimately both Armin and Mikasa aren’t his reason for living. Let’s face it - Freedom is Eren’s reason for being, his only desire. Armin has also expressed disbelief and almost frustration at her way of thinking when it comes to him (below examples) I think in a way the famed ‘table scene’ was Eren trying to break the bond, but he’s not doing that for no reason, its implied he does it to protect them, but it could also be because of what he has seen in memories past and future - he has perhaps became aware of Mikasa’s involvement within paths and the loop. He has to try to alter her way of thinking to protect her, but maybe also himself.

Armin + Other comrades reactions to Mikasa’s mindset

Another visual point to make regarding Mikasa’s ties with previous loops and Armin, was her comment made about him at a very early stage in the manga just after Eren had been eaten by a titan after saving Armin - leaving his fate at this point unknown.

this is implying that Mikasa has some knowledge of previous times Armin has helped them with his ‘ability’ which if we are referencing him as a character is his methodical intelligence. But, even here he is confused by the comment, simply because at this point there has been no signs of Armin’s usage of this ability - mainly fear and lack of confidence with that in comparison of his peers. We don’t necessarily see this until perhaps even a chapter later and as far as we are aware, Mikasa doesn't follow through with “i’ll tell you about it later”.

I don’t know about anyone else, but it seems odd she has such an attachment to Eren like this that is so intense. It’s not normal to be as intense as she is about someone unless she is used to losing that person over and over. Even as children Mikasa acted possessive over the ‘concept’ of Eren dying - it wasn’t allowed to happen. She doesn’t have this intense reaction with Armin or other comrades. She fixates on the idea of Eren being her saviour, the one to give her a ‘home’ and a ‘purpose’. Mikasa consistently opposes his death and his death alone, I can only see this from a standpoint that deep within her own memory she has experienced his death countless times before. She even uses force a couple of times to increase this intensity. Here are some examples of this even in childhood -

There are many more examples of this throughout the manga and her refusal to accept that what she doesn’t want, may just happen. Now this might just be my over active imagination or my own ability of media studies kicking in. But, previously I had been under the impression in the presence of a time loop that Eren was in charge of it and controlling it, that somehow it would constantly reoccur when he himself died and he would have to come up with a way to either prevent his death or ultimately stop the timeline of the titans. Whether that be under making a deal with Ymir herself or by essentially “breaking the wheel” and turning others against him to show Eldians as triumphant heroes.

However, the more i’ve thought about it and given the revelations of 138 - i would be more inclined to say it is Mikasa Ackerman herself due to either her specifically or her Ackerman gene. There is something about the bloodline that is missing and we have not had the fabled Ackertalk or much explanation of how they work (something I’d like to see covered in 139 - although i feel it will be an Eren chapter, I also think it will include the visions Eren has seen to give an explanation of why the previous 138 chapters played out the way they did)

I think there is a possibility Eren had to break the wheel on the loop, Mikasa would go back each time and always Eren would die, something we’ve established she tries to prevent and never accepts. The only escape was her accepting his death therefore he did everything he could to push her away, break the bond and push her to kill him to end the cycle (since he’s seen the future). As I have a hunch previously in other loops he was not killed by her hand - it had to be her to break the cycle or vice versa (but we will get to this).

there is hints of this in the “Lost Girls” OVA. Yes, I am aware it’s said that OVAS are not necessarily canon per say, but I don’t think it would have so many open links if Isayama himself didn't want it to. This particular one gives many hints to Mikasa’s involvement in the loop and alternative universe theories. The anime adaptations are on point with showing us details we only recognise after more plot points are revealed. It may explain the headaches, every time Eren dies, she reverses the loop or changes realities. This ailment could be a product of her memory issues. In the OVA we see Mikasa in real time thinking about Eren and his constant state of taking his own path.

After this moment, the said “Scene” she speaks of is revealed to us. Another example of Mikasa’s dreamlike state or perhaps another timeline? We are taken back to the time where she had given up, had ran out of gas, a titan was approaching and she was ‘lost’ - her reason for being was gone and she knew her death was coming, but also in the manga during this scene she is “worried” she’ll have to start again (above in examples). This again implies she knows something we don’t. We then hear Mikasa’s voice speaking to Mikasa herself, telling her that if she simply didn’t like this reality she could choose the place she wanted, but as we have seen before - she can’t stop his death.

The peculiar scene in this OVA that got me intrigued by this theory is the masked figure and young mikasa scene. Mikasa is rushing to meet with Eren and Armin to escape the walls in a hot air balloon, but she has to be there by a certain time or the plan fails. As she is running she is stopped by a mysterious masked figure who asks her to join in on his hypnotism trick to spectators. Comments he makes involve him telling her that her ‘friend’ will ultimately leave her and that she couldn’t accept his death and created this universe. Also, that he is no one, but someone at the same time. I think this holds great significance since the strange thing about this is that his voice mirages into a distant adult Mikasa.

implying that she has to ‘kill’ a part of herself or she has to die to prevent and hault the loop. She has to return from her idealistic dreams of keeping him alive as it will only fail otherwise. Upon hearing of Eren’s yet again untimely death within this universe, she begins to have memory flashes of multiple scenes appearing within her eyes with a typical media ‘rewind’ sound as she wakes up back in the street with no gas and a titan approaching but... she says something I find interesting and links to what Eren says at the beginning of the manga

“the feeling I’ve had a really long dream”

We witness Mikasa have these “headaches” multiple times within the manga and in the anime they are heavily focused on whenever it happens, which we can only recognise that this is an important part of the story itself. Eren too has random headaches, just not as much as Mikasa, he mainly experiences them when he accesses new memories. However, what if Mikasa too is affected by memories she cannot tap into or it is paths/ackerman gene warning her she is repeating past mistakes?

Notice how there is a lot of emphasis on the word ‘again’ when it comes to her headaches or the thought of losing Eren. It is constantly repeated. I think it is highly likely she only remembers some parts from previous loops, but the one that sticks is simply - she has to save Eren each time, but fails. Everything begins again after his or her’s demise. Perhaps each time Eren is the one who dies first, creating a somewhat butterfly effect. That maybe Mikasa has died once like she implies in previous example. However, the one to die first (in this case primarily Eren) loses all memories of the past loops - again this is implied as Eren does tell Mikasa he cannot remember his dream. I think deep within his mind Mikasa does remember, but given the fact she has potentially reversed the outcome many times...her memory is simply warped - that or she died in the previous loop and lost those components.

Will she not remember due to her memories being altered in her death?

Either way something needs to change. Eren Kruger says this in Eren’s attack titan memories. They are doing something wrong.

I believe Eren in 138 within Mikasa’s dream, was trying to tell her to move on, not necessarily forget him, but at least accept his passing - to stop the loop reoccurring, he influenced part of her reality...maybe with the help of Ymir. In a way it could be implied Eren almost regrets wrapping the scarf around her (this is heavily emphasised as a symbol of their relationship), for me the scarf seems like a softer symbolism for a chain - a binding if you will. By wrapping it round Mikasa he binds her to him. He has always insisted she should throw it away, even in 138 within her own conjured reality he says the same. She needs to kill this part of herself or “the same history” will be repeated. I do have a HUGE feeling in my heart, head and gut that Mikasa may need to end up dead first as I do have another HUGE feeling that Eren is not dead (maybe its wishful thinking, but his death doesn’t make sense right now, so Yams I trust in you for explanation). His death seemed too convenient.

Now, before I go onto “Ackerman” gene factors, I’ll briefly bring in another peculiarity I have always had about a particular scene in the beginning of the manga. After it is decided Eren will carry the boulder to plug the wall, Eren (the attack titan) seemingly loses control and succumbs to pure rage, in turn he attacks Mikasa. Something he hasn’t done against humans unless its free will.

However, a part of me has always felt that this could be the attack titan itself (in past inhabitants and memories) recognising her as a threat and trying to rid her of the world first to avoid the loop of Eren dying first to Mikasa controlling the loop to return to try to save Eren - nothing changes. This is what I meant by “breaking the wheel”, we have saw it in other tales, things can’t change unless you choose a different path than the same one with the same brutal cycle. As Kruger says, to save Mikasa and Armin, Eren has to change things - this could be to separate not only Armin, but Mikasa from him, that maybe in previous loops...they follow him. In this instance, he has definitely separated Armin and by way of second hand - Mikasa too. Hence why Ymir says goodbye to Eren in 138, he is free. Another notable concept is that aot/snk is made up of trios, we see it in:

Eren / Mikasa / Armin

Reiner / Bertholdt / Annie

Connie / Jean / Sasha

Hanji / Erwin / Levi

Levi / Farlan / Isabel

Kenny / Levi / Mikasa

It would partially make sense for the trio to be the reasoning for the ending. Almost illuminati based - very yams style.

Why not Mikasa?

Lets talk Ackerman and a slightly different theory, but with relation!

(Obviously, I cannot provide much evidence to support any Ackerman based theories other than what has already been provided, which isn’t a lot to be fair. Dammit Yams)

I want to briefly start off on the Ackerman front with a brief comparison of our two currently known Ackermans: Levi and Mikasa. The main categorising difference between these two is that Levi moves on regardless of what happens to him or his comrades or his ‘attachments’. He also does not appear to experience these headaches, some say he does, but I can’t find evidence. Isayama shows these headaches with a throbbing sign around Mikasa’s head - so unless the Ackertalk happens and Levi confirms it, its still absent in theory. Levi treats Ackerman-ism as moving on, making choices with no regrets (as his backstory indicates) and even in current states he has said he doesn’t regret his decisions. It is why he is able to move forward and keep surviving. Its simple...his mindset is stronger than Mikasa's, she is the weaker link. This could be due to age difference and overall past experience, Levi has more life experience as an Ackerman to have mastered his emotion and reactions to outcomes - he accepts the bad.

Mikasa is weaker in this regard, perhaps if you link it back to the theory of her control of the loop...due to this weakness she creates the loop since she can’t accept his death and tries to return to make amends. I think in reality, Eren knows due to the attack titan ability - he will die. Hence why he appeared so shocked upon making contact with Historia to then very depressed and detached before vanishing in Marley. He became aware of the outcome and I don’t know about anyone else, but I’d be depressed too after finding out my life was made to end especially since all he wanted as a character was Freedom. Eren x Freedom will be the only canon ship at this rate.

However, I do think the only way she can create said loop is through her Ackerman gene. Ackermans are products of ‘titan science’, they were genetically engineered (if you want to put it that way) to have titan like abilities while still maintaining their human form and sense of self being. Created to protect the Fritz family (royal blood), to eventually being ostracised for their dismissal of the plan to wipe Eldian’s memories. Therefore banished, but allowed to live, I can only see there being one reason why - they would be still useful at some point and their deaths/extinction would be wasteful.

From what we know and can tell from mere viewing, the Ackermans are very skilled and powerful beings that have ‘hosts’ or attachments (I like this name better) to channel their goals, strength and energy into. They were made to protect, fight and survive. The only surviving Ackermans are Levi and Mikasa.

They cannot be affected by the founding titan and their memories cannot be altered. But, this brings about another question. Why were they created to protect the founding titan, yet could not be controlled by it? The theory with this bloodline is that they can do more than what we see, that they themselves don’t know it yet. One in particular can alter realities - that being Mikasa (as we don’t have mass amounts of information on Levi’s experiences other than his surge of power awakenings demonstrated throughout the manga to confirm his part) due to fact Levi really only knew he was an Ackerman within his 30′s after the previous Ackerman - Kenny, dies and informs him of this. Mikasa has always been aware.

Mikasa’s ‘Power’ ultimately has something to do with the Attack Titan and the Founding titan - that being Eren and Ymir combined. In past loops, I believe each time she has seen Eren die she has said “see you later, Eren”... hence the ending of 138 and the beginning of the manga. Isayama did say the beginning would relate to the ending. Each time this happens they are transcended to the point Eren wakes up at the tree within the walls to begin once more, its the only clear explanation for why Eren comments of her hair length. The attack titan itself is the component of Ymir that captivates her freedom, it continues to move forward for 2000 years each successor until one has the power (the desire for freedom like her) to release her from enslavement to the power of the titans. In this instance Eren too has been a slave to the power, lets for arguments sake blame Grisha for passing it on to him.

Again, with the Ackermans there is something I’ve always noticed between Levi and Mikasa - they have never touched skin to skin. It has always been over their clothing. I wonder if their Ackerman powers may stem similar to how Eren draws memories from contact with the royal family, i.e. Historia. They need to touch in order to access Paths and manifest it into their control. Eren is aware of this due to his connection to Ymir - there is heavy implied material to denote the idea of Ragnarok and reincarnation. Eren is the reincarnate of Ymir and previously I don’t think they were aware of this.

For anyone not familiar with the term “Ragnorok” - its definition has multiple meanings in Norse mythology. Particularly - development, origin, cause, relation and fate. It is a series of events that often lead to a great battle, the deaths of multiple people of importance to the ultimate end revelation of the world being remade and fertile (the opposite of Zeke’s plan) with the remaining ‘gods’ returning and ‘two’ human survivors repopulating the world. I personally believe this to be either two of these: Levi and Mikasa or Eren and Historia by the way of Ymir as the ultimate god, but just in different ways. The Ragnorok element is particularly of importance within Germanic studies, this would connect with Shingeki no Kyojin since it is implied its set in early germany/europe and given characters name origins - it makes sense.

The two human survivors are that of Lif and Lifbrasir (shown below) who survive by ‘hiding’ in the woods while the great battle commences.

They repopulate the world starting with a daughter. In germanic regions, the concept of mankind originated from trees is an ancient notion “the tree of life” essentially. Trees have a massive importance and connection in Shingeki no Kyojin, we see Eren wake up at one in the beginning, the main Path coordinate resembles a tree, Ymir originated from trees and being within the woods would indicate “trees”. This would make me more inclined to believe the Eren and Historia theory to be likely, simply because Historia is all the way back in Paradis and potentially Eren himself by transferring subconscious. To me it seems very likely the leaked final panel released by Yams himself is Eren holding a child rather than anyone else as whoever this figure is tells the child they are free and this could only relate to both Ymir and Eren, the ones who sought freedom. This could mean in this instance Levi and Mikasa are the ‘gods’, the ones with the power to restore and mend, again through the concept of the Ackerman Gene being more than what meets the eye. Ymir will be reborn ultimately and no longer enslaved as will Eren.

Ragnarok and Shingeki no Kyojin combined have connotations of ‘fate’ being a big part of their depths. It is fated. Everything is. Just like Eren’s death and potentially ability to be reborn into another timeline. Just like Eren’s fate to obtain the founding titan and attack titan, both very powerful titans in the manipulation of time and events. Eren makes a statement around chapter 123 in Paths when talking with Zeke that if someone tried to take his freedom, no matter who, he would remove theirs. That he has been like that since birth because he was “born into this world”.

Zeke: “Since birth?”

this further implies fate. He was born free, he expresses detest for people who aren’t free and bound by something, 2000 years, Ymir etc. This only ties together if Eren himself in past lives was someone with the same views and personality traits, like Mikasa, except hers are the opposite. Paths has always been there and everything that has happened in the past is imbedded within its clutches through Ymir. These two titans needed to be combined, Grisha was informed by Eren himself through Kruger and future versions of himself that he had to obtain the founder or nothing could be changed. Grisha is even seen asking Eren to show him everything that happens, whether carla dies etc. He did not have full control, this was made for Eren’s inhabitant period and he did not have access to all memories due to only being able to access the ones the future successor sends back in time. Like the mirror scene for example, Eren is speaking to someone else, not himself. Grisha was only instructed to go within the walls and have a family. Eren was instructed to save everyone. Remember that the common rule with time is that you cannot change the past or it significantly alters the future.

I believe all the memories (the ones we are seeing even now) are actually in paths, the story has always had an indication it is being ‘narrated’ by someone - in most instances this is Armin. This has implied he will survive into the future, but that others may not. How this will happen...I can only theorise that Ymir will factor into who lives or dies. She will need to leave paths however, the only way the titan curse will end is if she leaves and no one is there to build titans. She will be either reborn to capture her freedom or reborn through Eren for them both to obtain the same dream. There has been multiple theories that some other titan other than the attack titan could be the key or another character, like that of the Ackermans or armin for example as I do think the trio concept is likely. But, remember the manga is called “Shingeki no Kyojin” meaning “the attack titan” - its always been the key and Eren is that key...again, key? Eren. scarf? Mikasa. Equals symbolism.

At the end of the day, the characters who I feel personally will tie together the ending are Eren, Ymir, Historia and Levi, Mikasa, Armin - both trios on different sides of the coin. Just remember, this isn’t the type of story where the characters get what they desire and that they could die without obtaining these desires. Erwin died before learning the truth of the outside world. Hanji died. Sasha died, Niccolo lost her. Floch did not live to see Eldian rule. Levi may have killed Zeke, but what for? He killed a different version of him, not the one who murdered innocents in Shinganshina. Levi lost every attachment of his. Mikasa lost Eren. I’d be angry and sad for him, but Eren also could lose his freedom by striking a deal with Ymir for her own freedom. But! he could free the world and his friends through both Mikasa and Armin, the chain will break, the titan curse will end and he will cease to exist or be lost in Paths dormant, unlike Ymir for 2000 years. This would be a good culmination of Eren’s character, extremely heart breaking, but fitting. A character who only sought freedom for humanity. He is humanity’s hope after all. Remember, Kaji Yuki (Eren’s Japanese voice actor) expressed extreme sadness at learning Eren’s fate from Isayama. It has always been a manga that indicates a bittersweet ending, so this could also be highly likely. (Eren is my favourite character...so this guts my heart from my chest)

To conclude, these are merely my own speculation of the final events within 139 and although sad of its ending, my excitement for this final instalment knows no bounds. I can only wish for the best and I know Isayama will deliver.

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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Never Satisfied [Chapter 8]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“reality may be better than a dream“

He isn’t sure when he woke back up or how long it had been since he fell asleep, but his cheek is squished up against something and he is in a horizontal position. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, realizing he is staring past the edge of a pair of tanned legs decorated with thin black lines of fishnets which are also digging into his cheek. His eyes widen, lips parting a tiny bit when he realizes he’d tipped over in his sleep, laying his head on Cora’s hip. His hand had slid from her cheek and curled against the back of her neck, cradling her head in his palm. He swallows hard, unsure if he should move and risk waking her up or stand as still as he possibly can. On one hand, he doesn’t want her thinking he willingly invaded her personal space, but then again she’s bound to find out, seeing as how moving would result in waking her up and if he remained in his current position, she’s still gonna wake up sooner or later and find him awkwardly looking at her, silently praying she doesn’t lose her cool at him.

What is a guy to do?

Her arms are still wrapped snugly around his thigh, sleeping peacefully in the dark room illuminated only by the Netflix menu.

It must be later than I thought, he thinks to himself as he stretches his free leg out to his phone, tapping the screen with his sock covered toe to discover it’s 6:48pm. Jesus, we’ve slept for almost two hours.

The sun is still glowing but is now significantly lower in the sky, indicating they’d have a little bit of daylight left but it would be quick to slip past them if Cora doesn’t wake up anytime soon. What if she wanted to leave before it got dark? I should probably wake her up, no? I mean, there’s also the possibility that she didn’t and I’d just be disturbing her for no reason and I of course don’t want that….Ugh, fuck, why is something this simple so complicated?!

Doing his best not to jostle her, Corpse carefully pushes himself up using his hands which he’s propped up on the back of the couch. Once upright, he carefully eases his hand out from under her head and brushes a few stray dark locks away from her face where they had formed a curtain over her closed eyes. His voice cracks as he tries to speak so it comes out more as an unsure murmur.

“Cora. Hey, come on, wake up.” He whispers, trying to be gentle as he nudges her shoulder.

She lets out a soft distressed noise at the fact that someone dared to interrupt her sleep. Her arms tighten around his leg and she rubbed her cheek into his thigh, indicating that he’s not going anywhere with this mellowness,

“Mmm...five more minutes…” she mutters, making his cheeks burn as she snuggles up even tighter into him.

With a defeated sigh he leans back, fixating his gaze on the TV and smiles a tiny bit, feeling that by now familiar, warm sensation in his chest and stomach - the one he feels whenever he takes her hand or gets a text from her. “Alright, five minutes.” He settles, leaning back further on the couch, unlocking his phone, beginning to browse Instagram quietly and then checking his email afterwards.

He soon finds he’s lost track of time but eventually it definitely starts feeling like more than five minutes have passed, and so Corpse decides to take some action. Bowing his head down, he shakes her shoulder again. “Alright, come on, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to get up. I’m hungry and I gotta pee and I’m done with being held hostage.”

Her head tips slightly to the side, eyes still closed as she turns to face the ceiling. A sly little smirk dances on her lips before it falls when she goes back to pretending to be consumed by her blissful slumber. Her voice arises from her throat as a playful whisper,

“Something-something can only be awoken with the kiss of a strong knight.”

Corpse feels his stomach do a backflip and his face starts burning as the color of his cheeks, ears and neck switches to a bright shade of red, eyes growing wide when he registers what she just said. “I’m...um-...” He stutters, his throat suddenly dry and coarse as sandpaper.

Cora opens one eye just a slit, spotting his frantic blushing before closing it again. “Or even just a dude lost in the woods if the knight is unavailable.”

He swallowed again, desperately trying to fish out any words and let them leave his mouth. Despite his attempts to calm himself down, his hands go clammy and his heart has taken to hitting the inside of his ribcage with the intensity of an angry dragon, threatening to break through and leave his body.

She isn’t really suggesting this, right? It’s a joke, it has to be. Haha, make Corpse look like a dumbass, won’t that be hilarious.

Interrupting his thoughts, one of her hands squeezes the back of his knee while the other comes up to link her pinky finger with his own. He stares down at her, flustered as all hell, catching that one eye open again. His face is the epitome of questioning, puzzled and….hopeful? He can’t afford to be getting hopeful, not when there’s still the option that she’s messing with him. That’s why he has to know. His eyes are begging her to tell him what’s going on here or if there’s anything going on at all. He wants her to either break this magic or carry it out completely to where it’s enveloped and surrounded them both. He wants something, anything, even the tiniest signal from her, just to put his mind at ease and his racing heart to rest.

His breath hitches when Cora slides her hand out from under his leg. Defeat spreads throughout his chest like a wildfire when he thinks she’s about to pull away.

I knew it! I knew she’s just fucking around, she’d never w-!

His brain stops firing neurons of panic when he feels a hand rest on the back of his neck and he suddenly realizes he’s being pulled down slightly, the figure across his lap raising to connect their lips halfway.

He freezes, eyes wide and nearly watering in panic at the sudden contact that he was far from prepared for. However, Cora wouldn’t be Cora if she just let him sit there and panic so she immediately reacts, squeezing his hand so that his instincts would kick in. When they finally do, his hand comes up to gently cup her face, allowing himself to melt into the kiss. He kisses her slowly, savoring the feeling of her lips against his - warm and soft against his chapped ones. His thumb brushes slowly across her cheekbone, subconsciously memorizing every spot and tiny line etched into her skin.

She’s the first to pull back but they don’t stay apart for long seeing as how she’s quick to sit up higher and press her lips back against his, hand cradling his head as both their bodies buzz with heat. His arm automatically wraps around her torso, the palm of his hand resting on her back to keep her close, deepening the kiss.

His chest is aching with happiness, eyes brimmed with tears of joy and relief he hopes won’t spill for her to see. He just can’t help himself, it all feels so overwhelming and surreal. The feeling that he’s had living within him since their lunch date has finally fallen into place. It finally makes sense and he can finally be at peace with it. That’s the biggest relief he’s felt in a long while. She’s his check point, his safe haven and his relief. She’s become so much to him in such a short amount of time. It goes without saying she’s incredibly special.

He draws back after a moment and inhales shakily, his whole body shaking in shock.

“Holy shit.” He whispers, eyes wide as he carefully moves his hands away from her face.

Cora’s cheeks are pink as she smiles faintly and nods in agreement. “Sorry...I hope that was okay.” She mumbles, looking away shyly but not for long. Corpse tilts her head, turning it to face him once again as he leans in to press his lips firmly against hers, eyes closing slowly yet again. She brings her body closer to his and Corpse could swear he felt the Earth stop spinning. The rest of the world has stopped existing. Nothing matters but this moment, right now. This kiss shared between them, this contact between them, addictive like a drug.

They spend a few minutes just kissing slowly, enjoying every second of it, savoring it with a small fear they might never repeat this though they really hope they do.

He alternates between cupping her cheek and neck to holding her hands. The whole experience is just so warm and deep and meaningful, but tame at the same time. They don’t dissolve into a frantic mess, they kept their pace, moving in sync, reminding each other that this is not a dream. This is better than any dream could ever be.

He breaks away first, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. “Do-...do you need to go home?” He blurts out softly, fingers laced with hers, the question so out of place for the setting.

“Oh, is my kissing so bad you want to kick me out?” She asks with a smile so small but so bright it warms him internally.

He laughs a deep breathy laugh, looking at her with affection. He can't help it, he’s intoxicated by her. Before, it would have been a totally different experience for him: frantic backpedaling on what he’d said but something feels...good with her here. It feels so right and it keeps him grounded in the current moment, refusing to allow him running the conversation and events back in his head.

“No, you’re perfect…” he admits softly, a little anxious with those words but accepting them as truth because that’s what they are. “I just thought….”

“Is that what that burning smell is?” She teases again, perhaps hiding her own nervousness behind jokes, before she kisses him softly.

“I thought, if you wanted to stay the night....I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” He manages to say, pulling away from her briefly, the backs of his fingers drawing a soft line across her cheek. He pulls away further suddenly, realizing that may be a bit too romantic. They just kissed, and still haven’t spent such a big amount of time together. With these thoughts in mind, he hurries to add: “If not, it’s okay…”

She’s quick to shake her head, dismissing his worries, “I want to stay, but you’re not sleeping on the couch. What, are you afraid I’ll give you cooties?” She teases, squeezing his hands and leaning in to affectionately headbutt his shoulder.

He smiled and winds his arms around her in a tight hug, releasing her when she pulls away. “Alright, but I’m hungry, and I still need to piss.” He declares, standing up and stretching to loosen and relax his stiff joints, starting to make his way to the bathroom. “Think about what you want for dinner!”

@fockingwhore @vixenl @annshit @wineandionysus @wiseflamingoqueen

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homeformyheart · 4 years ago

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bucket list - all pairings (twc)

author’s note: i woke up one morning with the thought of what would each UB RO do if they found out the detective had a bucket list because they thought they might die soon from all the supernatural activity, and we’ll all have to thank @pearlsandsteel, @kelseaaa, @wayhavenots, and @ohnobbwhatisyoudoing for bullying encouraging me to do this (if you don’t like it, blame them; if you like it, thank them). hope you all enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except the oc detectives, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – all pairings (6 detectives) rating/warnings: 14+; minor angst based on/prompt: inspired by the movie a walk to remember word count: ~3.5k words in total (~500-700 words per pairing) summary: the detective has a bucket list of things they’d like to do before they die (these are all canon stories). each pairing is featured in a ~500-700 word drabble.

1. adam du mortain x detective lyra kingston x nate sewell (LT) 2. mason x detective ria knight 3. nate sewell x detective cassie knight 4. felix hauville x detective harley bishop** 5. adam du mortain x detective regina bishop** 6. mason x detective brooklyn kingston**

** the ones with asterisks have little easter eggs / connection to other prompt fills / fics i’ve written for those pairings. bonus points if you can figure out what they are before you get to the end of those!

and tell me which one you liked best / least 👀 (i need to know your angst thresholds for research).

bucket list

1. adam du mortain x detective lyra kingston x nate sewell (LT) (~600 words)

lyra rummaged through the drawer of her nightstand, tossing out old receipts, rubber bands, and other random knick-knacks that she really didn’t need but kept anyway “just in case.” her fingers finally wrapped around a thick card-sized envelope and she yanked it out of the drawer triumphantly, instantly recognizing the pale yellow color and her name written on the outside.

a knock on the door made her spin around and instinctively hide the card behind her back. nate opened the door, leaning casually against the doorway, and smiled gently at her in a way that made her forget she was supposed to be annoyed with him for how secretive he was.

“did you find what you were looking for?”

lyra nodded before walking out into the living room and sitting down on the couch. she patted the seat to her left and nate obliged, sitting close enough that their thighs touched. she did her best to ignore adam from where he was standing just a few feet away. he had insisted on coming with them to retrieve lyra’s belongings, for added protection and since nate couldn’t drive.

“it’s the card my dad wrote for me when i was born,” she said quietly, her usual energy tempered. “it’s been a while since i’ve read it.”

her fingers trembled as she opened the flap of the envelope and slid the plain white card out, the only embellishment being a simple watercolor of a few hydrangeas on the front.

nate hesitantly wrapped an arm around lyra’s waist, moving slowly and watching carefully for any signs that it would be unwelcome in the moment. he relaxed when lyra instinctively leaned towards him, the subtle shift in her body language not going unnoticed by a certain commanding agent from his station by the window.

“will you tell me about it?” nate asked softly, seeming to have forgotten they weren’t alone.

lyra opened the card and ran her fingers down rook’s scrawl-like handwriting. she swallowed heavily to keep the tears stinging her eyes at bay.

“nothing to tell really, he wrote stuff about how much he loved me already and couldn’t wait to show me the world,” she said quietly, her voice breaking. she cleared her throat. “he wrote a list of things he wanted me to experience.”

she grabbed a pen from her purse and proceeded to cross out items on the list, stopping only to circle the last one.

fall in love

nate leaned in closer, running his finger down the list of crossed out words before pausing on the last one and looking up at lyra quizzically.

her throat was suddenly dry. she dropped her gaze towards her lap. “bobby doesn’t count,” she whispered. “that wasn’t love. my dad would want me to be with someone who loves me for me.”

nate tilted her chin up with a finger so she was looking into his eyes again. “i hope one day i could be that someone,” nate murmured, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

lyra’s breath caught in her throat and she blushed under his intense glaze. “well, you’re certainly, um,” she paused and glanced away to collect herself, making eye contact with adam inadvertently. her body tensed subconsciously, warring with itself to stay in nate’s warmth and ignore adam’s magnetic pull.

she tore her eyes away from the pained look on adam’s face and forced a smile.

“you make it easy, nate,” she said, her own smile growing genuinely in response to nate’s, despite the soft bitter edge in her voice and how it cut through adam like a knife.

* * * * * 2. mason x detective ria knight (~560 words)

ria clutched a crumpled up note in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, the thin paper disintegrating rapidly as she inhaled deeply, letting the smoke burn the back of her throat and lungs until she couldn’t take it anymore. her head fell back against the gate as she exhaled, the cloud of smoke stinging her eyes since she refused to close them.

just tell him.

“tell me what?” a gruff voice broke through the haze and made her blink. she hadn’t realized she said anything out loud.

she carefully schooled her features with a look of indifference as she crushed the cigarette under her foot.

“bold of you to assume i was referring to you,” she shrugged, turning to walk the short distance to the warehouse.

mason fell into step beside her, an easy silence settling over them both. ria kept crinkling the paper in her hand with her thumb, crumpling and uncrumpling it over and over again, glancing at it every so often until they were in the living room.

if mason was curious about what was on the piece of paper, he didn’t show it.

“what do you have there, ria?” felix’s eager voice brought ria’s attention back to the present and she inwardly groaned.

felix was the last person she wanted around right now. he was too observant for his own good.

“a bucket list,” she muttered, crumpling the paper inside a tight fist.

“what’s a bucket list?” the younger vampire asked.

ria sighed. “it’s a list that people make of things they want to do before they die,” she said, her voice so uncharacteristically soft that mason almost wondered if he had misheard. “i know my life is in constant danger, so i thought it might help to make sure i write down what’s important to me.”

felix’s mouth parted in surprise, but mason interrupted before he could say anything. “what’s on the list?” he asked gruffly, though not unkindly.

ria gave him a long, hesitant look. “i wanted to show you my dad’s grave. catch him up on everything,” she said, her gaze dropping. “it’s been a while since i’ve gone to see him.”

“name the time and place, sweetheart,” mason said quietly, the weight of his words washing over her and softening her features. he stepped closer to her, even though felix would be able to hear everything he said anyway. “you’re not dying on my watch.”

she swallowed the snarky, defensive retort that sat on the tip of her tongue. “thank you,” she mouthed silently instead.

“is there anything else on your list?” felix asked, stepping closer to ria.

she quickly pulled her hand behind her back and walked past him. “nothing important,” she snapped, tossing the crumpled ball of paper into the trash before heading to her room.

felix exchanged a knowing look with mason and dug the ball out of the trash, carefully uncrumpling it.

“this isn’t much of a list, there are only two things on here,” he said, trying to smooth out the paper so he could read her handwriting.

mason snatched the paper before felix could read the rest of it, skimming over the words himself, brows furrowing tighter before he let it drop to the floor. felix picked it up as mason stormed out of the warehouse, reading the only other thing that ria had written on her bucket list:

tell mason i love him.

* * * * * 3. nate sewell x detective cassie knight (~600 words)

cassie grabbed a tissue from the box on her coffee table, wiping her tears furiously as the credits of the movie they had finished watching began rolling on the screen. nate turned off the television with a smile, wrapping an arm around cassie and pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap.

“i thought you’ve seen this movie before,” he teased, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down her arm.

cassie elbowed him playfully. “don’t judge me. i love the book but the movie always gets me, especially when he helps her finish her bucket list.”

“i can honestly say i prefer the book,” he said, genuinely surprised to see this side of cassie.

he hadn’t seen her this at ease in a long time, maybe ever. she looked comfortable and content, despite her puffy eyes and red nose, all of which he found absolutely endearing.

“the nathaniel sewell, connoisseur of historical tomes and vintage novels, read a nicholas sparks’ romance novel?”

it was cassie’s turn to be surprised.

things were still relatively new between them, but not for lack of effort. the steady stream of missions and supernatural activity in wayhaven kept them both far too busy for comfort. and when they weren’t on missions, she still had a lot of work at the station and nate always had mission-related paperwork and research to do.

it shouldn’t have been a surprise that there wasn’t much they knew of each other when it came to personal quirks and guilty pleasures, but nate wanted to know more.

nate’s gaze dropped at cassie’s inquiring look. “i—um, dated someone a while ago who really enjoyed his books and i thought reading them would help.”

he could almost see the gears turning in her head as her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“i could see why you might think it would make someone fall in love with you,” she said finally, a wistful distance settling into her eyes. “bobby liked to compare himself to noah calhoun from the notebook.”

nate felt his entire body tense and he had to clench his jaw to keep from violently flinching. just the thought of that reporter and how he had mistreated cassie was enough to make his blood boil.

“you said you liked the part where landon helps jamie with her bucket list. do you have one?” nate asked, trying to turn the conversation back to a safer topic.

cassie’s eyes widened slightly in confusion before she realized what nate was doing and gave him a grateful smile. “i do, actually. i’ve been meaning to update it,” she said, reaching for a leather-bound journal resting on the coffee table and flipping to a page in the back.

“may i?” he asked, noting the flicker of hesitation darkening her green eyes for a fraction of a second before she nodded.

nate took the journal from her and skimmed the list. it mostly comprised of things he thought were consistent with how thoughtful cassie was, but the second-to-last item stole the breath from his lungs in a painful way.

live to 30

he put the journal down before grabbing both of her hands. “i will do everything in my power to keep you safe, i promise. you will get to live beyond thirty,” he said, his eyes flashing with a seriousness that was rarely directed at her.

“then i will look forward to the day i can cross that one out,” cassie said, giving him a warm smile.

nate felt his breath return to him as cassie settled against his side once more, her warmth reminding him to cherish these rare moments they shared.

* * * * * 4. felix hauville x detective harley bishop (~500 words)

harley scanned the legal pad in front of her, two-thirds of it filled out with various experiences and things she wanted to do sooner rather than later. it took meeting felix and the rest of unit bravo for her to realize that she had become very content and complacent with her life. felix’s enthusiasm for this world made her want to explore and experience things.

but more than anything, hayley wanted to feel alive.

the trappers had become more brazen and the number of close-calls in the past few weeks didn’t sit well with her. she never really had any personal ambition or dreams, but she knew now that she wanted more moments with felix.

she looked down at the list that seemed to keep growing by the hour.

show felix the grotto

take felix camping

learn how to cook one dish

a knock on her door, followed by the sight of felix’s head peeking around the doorframe made her look up.

“hey babe, what are you up to?” he asked, clambering on top of her bed to get as close to her as possible.

“i’m just putting together a bucket list of things i want to do while i still have the chance,” she replied, trying to keep her voice light.

felix lifted his head from her shoulder so he could study her face. she made a point of avoiding eye contact as she held up the legal pad.

“these are some of my favorite spots in wayhaven,” harley said, her finger running down between the numbers three and ten. “i want to make sure that you get to see them.”

“and i can’t wait. but we have plenty of time for that babe,” felix said, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her closer. “i promise.”

“but what if we don’t?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “i want to make sure you don’t forget me.”

truthfully, that was what really had been bothering her the past few weeks. harley worried that compared to felix’s eternal life, hers was not only insignificant, but also incredibly boring.

he gently cupped her face in his hands. “i would never want to forget you. and we’re going to be together for a very long time, okay?”

she nodded and mustered a small smile. “okay,” she said, a warm flush spreading from the touch of his skin on her face through her body.

he gave her a soft kiss before grabbing the legal pad from her hands. “i want to add stuff to the list too. things i want to do with you,” he said, his cheerful energy rubbing off on her as she handed him a pen.

she rested her chin on his shoulder this time, so she could watch as he scribbled a few things near the bottom. they were mostly ideas for different types of date activities, but the last thing he wrote made her lift her head and freeze.

tell harley i love her.

harley looked at felix, stunned, to find him smiling softly at her. “one day, really soon,” he murmured, his eyes shining before his lips enveloped hers in a kiss. and she knew that day couldn’t come soon enough.

reference fic: camping.

* * * * * 5. adam du mortain x detective regina bishop (~570 words)

regina watched adam play with their children from where she was sitting on the porch, pretending that ten-year-old jacques and seven-year-old cecilia were able to pin him to the ground. she smiled as their youngest, four-year-old philip, waddled over and placed a fistful of daisies on adam’s face, before sitting down and rearranging them with a look of concentration on his round face.

she let herself bask in the moment of happiness that she knew would be fleeting, before looking down at the journal on her lap. she pulled out the worn sheet of paper tucked away in the middle, covered in hasty scribbles and crossed-out words on each layer of sticky notes, a bucket list she made years ago and continued to update.

tell adam i love him

get married

build a house by the sea

revive the du mortain line

raise our family together

regina smiled as she quickly skimmed over the crinkled pile of notes, sifting through them carefully so as not to further wear down the adhesive before she got near the bottom and pulled out a bright green-colored sticky note with only one thing written on it. all the other notes in the pile were pink and blue because she had wanted this one to stand out so she could easily find it.

turn?

don’t turn?

decide whether to turn

her smile faded. it hadn’t taken long to work through everything else she put on her bucket list. even the ones that took considerable effort (and really, it was mainly getting adam to come around to having kids), she was able to accomplish through sheer stubbornness and determination. but this last one was different.

regina was afraid to bring it up with adam and she knew he wouldn’t bring it up first. she knew him well enough by now that he would insist that this needed to be her decision and hers alone and refuse to influence her either way. but because she understood him better than he understood himself most days, she also knew that her death might break him and return him to an even darker and more repressed version of himself than before.

a sudden darkness brought her attention back up to meet a pair of wavering green eyes. her gaze flicked past him to note the children still playing together in the yard before meeting his again as he sat down next to her, reaching over to clasp his hand over hers.

“your bucket list?” he asked, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

when he first found out she had created one, under the assumption that she could die at any moment, he was unsurprisingly fearful, and remained simultaneously distant and protective for a long while. it did, however, help spark the conversation between them about having children.

regina nodded. “i still can’t believe i managed to accomplish all the things i’ve written down over the years. i just really have one thing left to figure out.”

adam intertwined his fingers with hers and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. the small circles he drew seemed to relieve some of the tension in both of their shoulders.

“whatever you decide,” he said finally, a noticeable strain in his voice. “i will respect it.”

“thank you,” she responded quietly, a thick tension sending a chill over them both despite the bright and warm sun and the laughter of their children surrounding them.

reference fic: cottage by the sea.

* * * * * 6. mason x detective brooklyn kingston (~530 words)

mason leaned against the side of brooklyn’s desk as they turned off their computer and pulled out a loose sheet of paper.

“what’s that?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

things had been relatively calm in town and even though the quiet made adam tense and stern, mason enjoyed the reprieve. especially since it meant that he got to spend more time with brooklyn. they had threatened to quit the team and move out of town not that long ago, but had yet to follow through.

he wasn’t going to question them on it. he had already made it clear that he would follow them to the end.

“a bucket list,” they replied distractedly, not even bothering to look up at him. “a list of things i want to do before i leave wayhaven.”

mason raised an eyebrow. so they were still planning to leave. he leaned over and let his finger land on the sheet, pinning it to the desk.

“this is an ambitious list,” he remarked as he scanned the list of thirty things or so, most of which had been crossed out.

they lifted his finger and swatted his hand away before smoothing out the page. “are you doubting me?”

“i’d never do that, brooks,” he said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. “come on, i’ll take you home.”

“i’m going to dinner at verda’s and he’ll take me home after. i’ll see you tomorrow,” brooklyn said quickly, grabbing the cigarette from his fingers and tossing it into the trash can under their desk.

“i should make you start paying for those,” he growled playfully.

brooklyn chuckled. “or you could stop buying them. now get going so i can finish up here.”

he smirked and leaned in close enough that they could trace the freckles on his face with their nose if they leaned forward just a little.

“do i get a kiss before i go?” he asked with a smirk on his face, his gaze focused on their lips.

their eyes flicked down to his lips and back up to his grey eyes, the playfulness simmering behind a seriousness that made their breath catch. they tilted their head slightly and leaned forward to press their lips to his, letting his wrap around theirs for a brief second before pulling away.

“goodbye, mason,” they murmured, smiling gently at him, hoping the ache in their chest wasn’t visible in any way.

mason’s eyes fluttered open and his heartbeat thudded in his ears, the sound becoming more familiar each time they kissed. this time, however, brooklyn’s lips felt different and not in any way that he could pinpoint. mason’s eyes searched theirs, confused but unable to figure out exactly why he felt so uneasy.

after a moment, he shrugged and got up from their desk, turning back to nod at them once before heading out. brooklyn’s smile faded and they looked over their list one more time. the few they had left were ones they had planned on knocking out that evening, starting with verda and his family.

they just hadn’t expected to complete the last item so soon:

say goodbye to mason.

reference fic: menage

* * * * * permatag: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; nate x detective: @missameliep;

51 notes · View notes

5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years ago

Text

Undertow (IV)

CH IV: Market Moments

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Listen to the audio version here!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

Shawn felt slight guilt for letting the fib glide so smoothly off of his tongue. He and every other native to the town knew the market stands would have a slim chance of selling cheeseballs. Shawn knew not only because he works there, but also because he found the clear tub of the snack at an actual grocery store.

But the fib was worth it in his eyes. It resulted in Y/N running amuck in a quest for the orange snack, asking any patron she ran into where she could find some. Shawn just kept chuckling at her from his designated stand, apron tied around his waist. Anytime Brian noticed his employee’s lack of concentration during the beginning of the shift he would remind him in a stern tone to “keep your eyes on the bananas, not the girl.” And any bystander would have thought that comment triggered Shawn’s immediate tensing muscles and nostrils, flaring like a bull.

His employer knew, though, comments like those never put Shawn on edge like that. Brian’s eyes followed the young man’s gaze to see the same Y/N Shawn had introduced him to earlier that day. It was the stranger chatting her up, with his shoulder against one of the wooden beams nearby, that caught his attention. Based on the fuming reaction of the one beside him, the man piqued Shawn’s interest just as much. His sandy blonde hair and all-too-tight shirt made Shawn think to himself, why not just tattoo try-hard on your forehead?

“Jealous much?” Brian mumbles beside Shawn’s ear, resulting in a surprised yelp from the proximity. Though his emotions were undeniable, he refused them anyway.

“M’not.” Crossing his arms over his torso, Brian immediately patted one of his biceps in an attempt to bring them down.

“Don’t look so angry. Customers will think you’re unapproachable,” he hisses. Shawn obeys for the sake of his paycheck but refrains from straying his eyes from the two for long. Any customer who wanted assistance purchasing an item or had a question they demanded Shawn answer, the boy would only spare eye contact with them for fifty percent of the conversation.

“It’s been fifteen minutes. What could he possibly be talking about with her?”

Brian hums. “People talk about lots of things. Who knows, maybe they’re finding they have lots in common.” Shawn only scoffs at this.

“Please,” she’s a walking mermaid talking to a mooching lifeguard, Shawn thinks, “they have nothing in common.”

“Okay, how long can you hold your breath for?” Wesley’s lips form a devious smirk as the question leaves them. Y/N’s lips can only part, losing all acts of shaping anything near an answer. Her mind suffices a simple “just a while” seconds later, hoping it wasn’t too vague to beckon more questions. Lucky for her, it seems Wesley has a knack for caring more about the response to his own questions rather than hers. This was nothing new to Y/N, who did in fact, grow up with her father as a parent.

“My record is six minutes and fourteen seconds. It’s on my bucket list to beat the world record: twenty-two minutes and twenty-two seconds. I know it’s ambitious, but…” frankly, Y/N is growing bored of the conversation. As guilty as it sounds, she saw no point in speaking to Wesley when she would vanish from his world in a few days and head off to...somewhere else.

“Hey, let me ask you something,” she breaks off Wesley’s incessant chatting with a small smile and does not wait for his go-ahead to continue. “If you could go live anywhere on Earth, where would it be?” Wesley’s lips form a small ring as a strange, high-pitched tone leaves them. Y/N stands with wide-eyes and is too afraid to ask what that was or where it came from, deciding to stay silent.

“Does it have to be real, or can it be mythical?”

“I mean…preferably real, but--”

“Because my father always told me these stories when I was younger about this place on Earth. He claimed society was so different down there compared to the one on land, that he called it a world in our world.”

“D-down there?” Y/N responds in a meek voice, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah...Atlantis. You’ve heard the stories too, I’m assuming.”

“I mean...I’ve only seen it in that movie about the fish girl.”

“The mermaid,” he corrects.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Well, my dad described it differently. He said that their kingdom was built and crafted from a sunken city. Even after seeing it demolished and crumbled, the Atlanteans knew they could transform it into something incredible. And he went on about all these abilities they have, like how their eyes adjust naturally to the darkness of the water, how they have this innate connection to marine life and can communicate with any sea animal that crosses their path; they don’t even need to hold their breaths underwater!”

“Sounds like your father was a great storyteller…” Y/N chuckles nervously, eyes darting to the passing bystanders who continue giving Wesley concerning looks. Her blood was quickly running cold in fear of finding somebody with similar, piercing eyes Wesley’s father probably mentioned too.

“That’s the thing. My father might have been good at telling stories, but he is a horrible liar. I remember the fourth time asking him how Santa Claus could get into our house with no chimney and a locked door he could not come up with an answer and told me it was a myth. The same thing happened when I asked why we had to buy eggs when the Easter Bunny got millions for free. And when I asked how the Tooth Fairy had access to all the printing presses to international currencies without being arrested, he got upset with me...told me I was too smart for my own good.”

Y/N is slowly becoming baffled by the precarious names he is throwing out and decides to let him continue. Drawing any suspicion to herself due to confusion over well-known characters of the land-walkers is the last thing she needs.

“But, when it came to talking about Atlantis, he never seemed to run out of details. Any question I asked about it, he always seemed to have an answer for. I would ask more about it now because everything inside of me is telling me it’s a real place. But...I’m scared if I confront my dad about it…”

“He’ll tell you it’s fake.” Y/N pieces the end together for him. His lopsided smile slowly turns into that of a frown, earning a sympathetic gaze from Y/N. “Well, I don’t know how credible I am as a stranger, but…” She lifts a hand to rest on Wesley’s shoulder, “I think your father is right. You are too smart for your own good...and I think if such a place were to exist, there would be more evidence of it.” Wesley nods but soon pauses, becoming entranced by Y/N’s sincere gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice demands.

“Huh? Oh, nothing you just,” he clears his throat, “you have really pretty eyes.”

The orbs he was transfixed on moments before widen at this compliment. All at once, her mind rewinds itself to replay this afternoon with Shawn; his curls tickling her neck, the chuckle in his throat vibrating against her and her ruining their “moment”, a word she has yet to find a clear definition on. She also replays Connor’s entrance and comments about Shawn looking near ready to lock lips with her or be her utter demise through suffocation. Either activity sounded both passionate and intimate in a way Y/N was unclear about wanting with Wesley.

“Oh,” she whispers, dropping her arm from his shoulder in a haste.

“I-I’m sorry, that was awkward,” Wesley apologizes.

“No, no it’s alright. I just...I don’t want you to choke me,” she blurts, earning a few puzzled stares from those around them.

“What?”

“Or kiss me. Or...I don’t know, whatever happens in these moments.”

“Moments?” One of Wesley’s brows arch.

“Yes, a moment. Was that a moment? Because I think I just had my first one today and I’m not sure how--”

“Hey, Y/N, breathe.” He reaches both hands out to take her by the shoulders, quickly demonstrating a deep inhale and long exhale. She follows, mimicking his timed breaths down to the second. “It doesn’t have to be a moment if you don’t want it to be.” She nods, slowing her quick breaths and throwing a glance over her shoulder subconsciously for a quick peruse at Shawn’s figure behind the wooden stand. She smiles to herself, seeing his concentrating frame bend and twist meticulously to stack the bunches of bananas to perfection.

“Was it with Shawn?” Wesley asks. Y/N looks back toward him, pulling her brows together.

“Was…”

“Your moment. It was with Shawn, wasn’t it?”

“I..uh…” Her cheeks begin glowing red upon being caught.

“Hey, I’m not going to be upset.” He shakes his head, blonde streaks falling against his eyelashes. “Mendes and I might be tough on the water, but…” He takes his hands off of her shoulders, “I could never hate the dude enough to take his girl.” Y/N spares Wesley a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” She mumbles, preparing to pivot and return to Shawn’s stand.

“Oh, wait, Y/N--” the girl’s head turns back, humming.

“Where would you go, if you had the chance?” His question makes her eyes flicker down in thought, a pondering silence filling the air around the two.

“I’m not sure, actually. I don’t know if there is a place that could live up to this…” Through her answer, Wesley’s eyes met Shawn’s above her shoulder. Realizing he’d been caught, Shawn turned his body away, the feeling of dejection consuming his insides by the sight of his savior and worst enemy conversing.

“Well, just know a lot of people would miss you here if you left. More than just me,” he says, pressing a palm against his chest. Y/N looks behind her once more, only to be met with Shawn’s back.

“He would especially miss you.”

Another fond smile crawls onto her lips as she thanks Wesley again. When she turns to retreat to Shawn and Brian, the sinking feeling Wesley was awaiting inside of him felt more like a hot air balloon running off of helium than it did a whale with an anchor. As he begins walking in the opposite direction, sparing cursory glances at some of the products or swim trunks he walks past, his phone begins blaring its ringtone. He is stunned to pull it out and to be met with a pixelated version of his father and the name “DAD” overtaking the screen. Did his father finally keep his promise?

“Dad, hey!” The young man greets with exuberance.

“Hey, son. Finally got some free time…” Ripley announces at a regular volume. Hidden in between a few displays, he peers at Wesley slowly drifting from the curious girl, who was now speaking to an associate and pointing to the yellow fruits between them. “Tell me, how is it going? Did you win that surfing contest?”

“Yeah, but it kind of sucked to win now that I think about it. One of the other guys got really hurt.”

“Eh, I’m sure he’ll be fine. That’s what a rookie gets for going up against my son!” he barks a laugh. “I bet that trophy won you a couple of girls’ attention, huh?” Wesley gulps.

“I mean...not really--”

“Don’t lie to me, son. I can hear how lovesick you are. What’s her name?”

“Are you almost done yet?” Y/N groaned after Shawn finished up with a customer. She was sitting in a chair Shawn found under their table, picking at her nails in hopes that something interesting would happen.

“We’ve got another hour before we close up but then we have to put everything away so it’ll probably be an hour and 45 minutes before we can leave.” He shot her a smile as she dramatically slumped in the chair.

“They didn’t even have cheeseballs! I wasted half my day asking people if they had cheeseballs and they looked at me like I was insane.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help that she wanted the orange delicacy and in her opinion, these people were insane for not having it. “Just shut up and do your work so we can get out of here faster.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“I know what I want. Can you blame me?”

Shawn turned his back to her, opting to ignore her complaints instead of feed the fire.

“So you’re ignoring me now? Rude.”

He tried his best to keep the laugh in.

“That’s fine. I’ll find someone else to talk to.” She stood up and brushed off her pants, purposely bumping Shawn in the shoulder as she walked past. He reached out to grab her arms before she could get too far, forcing her to stop and turn around to look at him. “What, scared I’m going to find someone else to buy me cheeseballs?”

“Just stay safe.” There had been something nagging at his gut since he saw her with Wesley earlier and he was wary to let her out of his sight since then.

“Okay?” She gave him a funny look. “I’ll stay safe, no need to worry. Trust me, I know how to take care of myself.” It didn’t make Shawn feel much better but he let go of her anyways.

She walked off, only looking back once to shoot him a wink. He could only shake his head as he went back to work, wondering how it had been only one day and he was already infatuated with this girl.

Y/N walked around from table to table, actually taking the time to look at the contents this time. She didn’t have any money, as she found out earlier that day, but she still enjoyed looking at what each stand had to offer.

She looked around for a while before one stand in particular caught her eye. It was pushed back in a darker corner of the marketplace that people would probably miss if they weren’t paying attention.

She approached the table slowly, making sure to not startle the person running it, who seemed to be asleep in their chair. The table was decorated in an array of beachy looking stones and jewelry.

The person woke in her presence, sitting up and pushing their sunglasses up on their nose. “Why hello there.”

Y/N smiled at them, suddenly offset by their demeanor. She kept her gaze on the trinkets on the table, running her fingers over the symbols imprinted in them. Some posed a striking resemblance to the things she could find in her jewelry back home. Or, what used to be home.

“See something you like?”

“Yeah, they look a lot like-” She stopped herself, realizing that she almost revealed her identity.

“Like what?” They leaned forward, urging her to go on.

“Just, uh, something I saw in the store the other day.”

“You know,” They leaned back, crossing their arms over their chest. “Some say these came from Atlantis. Straight from the room of the princess.”

“Oh really?” She forced a laugh, retracting her hand to her chest. “Won’t the princess be upset that her things were taken?”

“She lives there no more. Ran away from an arranged marriage and was never found. I’m sure she cares very little about what happens to her old possessions.”

“That makes sense.” Her voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear herself.

“Please, take whatever you’d like. I’ll give it to you, half price.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I can’t.” She looked back to Shawn on the other side of the market, seeing him busy bagging some fruit for a customer.

“Are you sure? Such a beautiful girl deserves beautiful jewelry. Perhaps that boy you’ve been sitting with would want to get you a gift?”

“I really should get going.” Y/N nervously scratched her upper arm. “Thank you though.”

“Always! Come back any time.” They gave her a sly smile and she took a few steps back. “Have a great day.”

“Uh, you too.” She gave a polite smile and nod, turning around and hastily making her way back to Shawn.

The vendor pulled their sunglasses down from their eyes, revealing a pair of piercing green eyes. They pulled out a phone from their back pocket and unlocked it, clicking on the name Ripley in their contacts and bringing the phone to their ear.

Someone picked up at the last second, a gruff “what?” to greet the caller.

“It’s Merlin,” the vendor spoke. “I’ve got eyes on the subjects.”

Shawn’s post-work exhaustion and shopping trip from earlier in the day made heaviness caress his eyelids without complaint. Y/N hoped it would be the same for her, but she felt there was a kickdrum where her heart usually lied and the incessant wriggling of her toes beneath the bedsheets was impossible to control. This night in particular was when the girl felt scared to let sleep wash over her like a high-tide. Various scenarios of her waking up tomorrow without Shawn beside her or not in his bed played in her mind on an unrelenting loop.

The lime green digits on Shawn’s nightstand read 2:23 when the girl surrendered to the endeavor of catching shut-eye and opted for shuffling from beneath the covers and waddling to the kitchen. Despite seeing Shawn lock it earlier that night, she inspects the front door anyway. She does the same with the windows, even going as far as to flip the lock back and forth to build the small sense of security she felt. Even then paranoia still cloaked her mind and hypnotized her to grab the near-empty bin of cheeseballs from the kitchen cabinet and situate herself into a sitting position on the kitchen island, eyes pointed directly at the meager shard between the curtains of the kitchen window.

Slowly, the girl grew disoriented from the lack of sleep and stress harboring her for the last few days. The vision her distressed subconscious conjured is one far more macabre than she could have manifested while awake. Not only did they find her, but they kidnapped Shawn alongside her and drug him down to the depths of the water with no mercy. The scream he elicited when he no longer carried any valuable oxygen was muffled and distraught. Bubbles blurred his face, which, in turn, made tears build beneath Y/N’s eyelids. When she witnessed the facade of him go limp in the guard’s merciless hold and begin sinking, the whimpering pleas for him to wake up and escape quickly morphed to crackling screams.

When she heard his voice break through clear to her, the lids shielding her vision flung open. Immediately, her eyes stung from the contact of the cold air to her hot tears as she observed Shawn and Connor’s perturbed expressions. Glancing down, she found her arms stiff and cradling the bucket of cheeseballs to her chest.

“Uh…” she sits herself up, mimicking the position she was in last night before trying a buoyant tone of voice. “Good morning!”

“Good morning...you alright?” Connor lifts an eyebrow in Y/N’s direction, while Shawn is still lost for words after stumbling into her body tucked inwards and crying out for him.

“I’m good! Just came down for a...late-night snack. I must’ve closed my eyes for a few minutes.” She assures, holding up the plastic bucket for their eyes to study.

“Seems like you were here a little longer than that.” At this comment, she twists her body around and gasps at the numbers on the stove. The numbers 7:04 stared back at her menacingly.

“Woah,” she breathes out, whipping her head back to face Shawn and Connor. “My bad.”

“Were you feeling okay last night?”

“Yes,” she squeaks defensively. “I just...had trouble getting comfortable is all.” Crossing her arms, she refuses to meet Connor’s questioning eyes and Shawn’s features, still locked in place. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Y/N excuses herself in a mumble before sliding off of the counter and scurrying through Shawn’s open bedroom door, shutting it behind her. When a second closing door sounded, Connor looked directly at Shawn’s profile.

“So, you’re not gonna tell her what you heard?” Shawn glanced down to his fingers, picking at his nails.

“Why should I?”

“I mean, if a girl I was into confessed her love for me in her sleep I wouldn’t be standing there keeping quiet.”

And Shawn’s initial reaction was quite the opposite. When Y/N murmured “I love you” followed by his name an undeniable smirk tugged the corner of his lips. The man wasn’t quite sure he felt smitten at the same level, but he could surely reach it. And he wanted to, but the only thing stopping Shawn from planting a kiss to her lips the moment her eyelids fluttered open happened to be the echo of her cautionary messages playing on a loop in his brain. Both knew their relationship already pushed boundaries that threatened their lives to those looking for Y/N and to draw any more attention to themselves would be a ludicrous choice.

Furthermore, Y/N has shown no signs of traveling these last few days. For Shawn to jeopardize this new affair by selfishly wanting more out of it would only result in her packing her bags and leaving. She even preached that she would only provide Shawn with a load of heavy burdens and trouble. He begs to differ, since the moment they crossed paths, his woes were as scant as raindrops. But even in this unacknowledged intimacy, Shawn understood he must reciprocate the blurred lines, throw out the words he can never say to her, realize that she could up and leave any day now.

This new friendship was one Shawn was riding like a bumpy wave. And each time he thinks he may be near the end he plummets back into the thought of her. Every being of Shawn wants to follow Y/N’s instruction and keep paddling to the next wave to sweep him up.

“It was just a dream, Con. It didn’t mean anything.”

Whether or not he had admitted to himself, though, he was already snagged beneath by her undertow. The depth she chooses to yank him down to could be the least of his worries. The only doubt suffocating him is the matter of her deciding to let him go.

Look out for the next part of Undertow coming out 2/19/21!

Join the taglist to see what happens next!

Taglist: @fallinallincurls @ilumxna @lonelyreputation @purely-imagines-and-fantasies @shawnmxndxs @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @sillyquirkymendessupporter @itsalwaysbeen305 @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @marissje @princessmia1705 @rosetoronto @itrocksmysocks @organicpurplepants

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 4 years ago

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Tony Stark Is An Emotional Man - My Unpopular(?) Take

So, I’m rewatching the MCU - because of course I am - and I just realized something watching The Avengers for the first time in probably 10 years.

While everyone believes Tony is a prick - and don’t get me wrong, he is 60% attitude in a small package - until he saves the damn planet; the statement he gives to Banner about the Hulk saving him is very heartfelt. He opens up about his own condition with the shrapnel, which is a rare moment of him being openly vulnerable - especially in the earlier phase of the MCU. He is being genuine, and he is trying to make Banner see the positives and understand that perhaps, the situation isn’t as bleak as he’s been thinking.

Tony is trying to provide help, to comfort Banner; not for his own gain but because he recognizes himself in Banner, in spite of their very different ways of handling their inner demons, and their wildly differing personalities. Because he knows what it’s like to lose your way and your self worth, and he wants to see Banner regain some sense of himself the same way he has.

It’s nice to see the kind side to Tony, and for him to expose it willingly to help a fellow team mate - and eventually friend - accept himself and his inner struggle. Tony does not get credit enough for the fact that he always did have that side to him, he just didn’t know how to show it. Even his jokes and snarky sarcasm get less “mean spirited” as he evolves, and grows as a person.

I feel like Iron Man 2 coupled with The Avengers (and of course Iron Man 3 added onto that) are a perfect portrayal of how Tony’s more outward sense of caring for people, despite his awkward sense of socializing, was already beginning to shine through the cracks.

To me, Tony Stark is by far the most compelling character because while I am not entirely like him, I recognize so much of myself and my own hardships. It’s never too late to reinvent yourself, and Tony is the perfect metaphor for that. He even directly likens himself to a phoenix in Iron Man 2, although played for laughs at the Stark Expo.

But not only that, later on in the movie when Steve insinuates that Tony is not a hero, that he would never sacrifice himself on behalf of another; that he fights for himself alone, and tells him he's basically nothing without the suit - you can see it's hurting him. Tony never really holds eye contact unless it's worth while; unless it's getting to him and requires his full attention coming from someone he truly trusts, unless it means something. You see him keep his eyes off of everybody in social situations before he knows them or they have earned his respect; you see him avoiding getting in neck deep, avoiding and brushing off comments on his distant persona.

But that insult right there; from the man his father would rave about, that's taking. You see the pain in his eyes, you see the fact that he's being torn open. You see that he's brought right back to who he once was, reliving the guilt of every mistake he ever made. All because of Steve's judgmental, misguided perception of him. Tony hides his true self; hides his suffering, and his internal grappling with his shame and guilt over every problem and death he's directly or indirectly caused. The fact that Steve Rogers - of all people, as the revered Captain America - cannot see through his surface disguise is really getting to him. I believe Tony had assumed Steve would be superhuman, and he's struck by the realization that Steve is no more human than he himself is. He has imperfections, and flaws, and jumps to conclusions.

And the fact that it is Steve, of all people, making these assumptions of him and taking these jabs at him makes it all the worse. You need only watch for Tony keeping eye contact throughout the verbal onslaught to know it's hitting home; and to know that Tony feels, Tony knows this is what people all initially think of him. He had just hoped that somebody as subjectively righteous and morally good as Steve would have the ability to see through the facade. The fact that he doesn't, and that he doesn't hold back on his opinion, is what hits the hardest.

Another point is when Fury informs the remaining team of Coulson's (faked) death. Tony doesn't look at anyone, he sits turned completely away from the conversation. You can see he's close to losing it, and if he were to speak, if he were to look up, were to make any sort of eye contact directly - he would crack. That's one thing I love about RDJ's portrayal of Tony; the fact that he is so terrified of showing his vulnerable side in front of others, even when he is grieving or blaming himself for any mishap. He feels like he has to be the strong one, like he has to keep it together. Not for himself as much as for everyone else - because if the unfeeling, arrogant Iron Man breaks, how are any of the other team mates going to make it?

If Tony of all people reveals he takes it harder than almost anyone else present, how are they going to see him as the same man? I love how it is only later in the MCU, that he exposes this side of himself more willingly and freely - like in Endgame where he mentions how he lost “the kid” while referring to Peter. He not only maintains eye contact with Steve as he admits that, he chokes up. This same theme is prevalent between them in Civil War when Tony asks Steve to lay down his guard and hand over Bucky, “because it’s us” - which is a testament to the fact that Tony has now accepted Steve as a friend and ally, and this betrayal of his hard earned trust is breaking his heart. But this early on, none of this has become a valid option to him yet. So he keeps it inside; refusing to show his true colours.

And in this moment, what does he do when it gets too much? When he's required to speak up, to acknowledge Fury's mention of The Avengers project? He ups and leaves. Because if he speaks; judging by the eyes alone (which is yet another credit to Robert) he's going to tear up. And hence, he walks out to get it under control, to reil himself back in. It’s a habit he throughout the franchise will begin to display less and less; as he learns to be more comfortable with the team as friends, as well as openly displaying his own emotions.

We see another side to this later when Steve approaches Tony alone one on one; and Tony initially attempts to make quips about how Coulson shouldn't have gone alone, how he was an outgunned idiot. Steve cuts straight to the core, and Tony snaps. You see him nearly tear up, you see how upset he truly is deep down and how he was only doing his best to play it off the only way he knows how. But as soon as he is spoken to, is forced to make an assessment, to actually talk about it; to look Steve in the eye and defend himself - that's the exposed vulnerability that is the real Tony Stark.

Behind the snarks, behind the facade, behind the charade of the arrogant, nonchalant prick he’s been trying to make the world see him for. He's as human as he could ever be; and I believe this is also the first time Steve notices that there is more to Tony than he had presumed. He too, had assumed Tony is too wrapped up in his own ego and lavish life resume to care for the smaller man. But here, he sees that Tony feels, Tony sympathizes, and Tony is deeply traumatized by the fact that he - as he feels - allowed this to happen. He sees that Tony believes this is on his conscious.

Tony's glassy eyes and emotional turmoil betray him, and even though he jumps right back to his intellect and brains as a safety net and a defense mechanism - addressing Loki's plan to hit them at home and split them apart - this is the first time Steve is exposed to Tony's determination, ability to assess and deduce the situation, as well as his belief in doing the right thing (another theme seen later in Age of Ultron regarding Tony’s creation of Ultron himself, as well as in Civil War where Tony is adamant that the Sokovia Accords are the right path to take to pay for the critical mistake Ultron turned out to be.) And as they assemble, you're struck with the realization that this has been enough of an eye opener for Steve to realize that there is more to Tony Stark than meets the eye.

And who is first to the tower, leading the charge if not Tony?

And despite his blind faith in his own skill and ability to stall Loki just long enough; there's the epitome of the courage Tony possesses. He knows that without the suit, he has no fighting chance. He knows Loki could snap his neck in the blink of an eye. And still, he never backs off. Indeed, there is an underlying death wish or at the very least a sense of him subconsciously feeling he deserves and is fated a grim deminse - but it does take unprecedented bravery to put yourself in such clear danger.

Tony Stark could be called many things; but a coward is not one of them. Sure, he does have the untested suit on hold, but he did not know 100% it was going to work as planned. He was counting on it, but you know a part of him knew it was a long shot and might not work out in the end. The suit could have been faulty, Loki could have cracked his head open; the cavalry could have been running late. Still, Tony gambles with his life and luckily barely comes out on top.

At last, we have the finale. What can be said about it, except the fact that it shows exactly who Tony truly is? He knows he's going to die - indeed he doesn't - but he is intent on that, he is accepting death and welcoming it. If it helps save the world, if it will keep Pepper and everyone he loves, everyone he knows; everyone alive safe.

Here, the decision from the first Iron Man to actually show us Tony's eyes and face behind the mask is a godsend. Seeing as RDJ is an actor who communicates so much of his emotional range with his eyes only; we are given an easy access to see everything Tony is experiencing flash through them. We see the fear, the pain, the uncertainty; the acceptance of the inevitable. We see his eyes convey the jumbled mass of conflicting emotions speeding through his mind, we see how he finally just relents and gives in to what he thinks is going to be his time of dying. His final moments.

And he has made them worthwhile, he has already achieved what Yinsen begged of him in that cave in Afghanistan - he has made his survival count. He has saved numerous lives, and if his death is what it takes - so be it. Cue the parallel to Endgame. Hell, even Age of Ultron has elements of this as previously mentioned; although that one was on Tony himself, and his irrevocable fear and flaws as a human being. However, here the team sees Tony's will to sacrifice himself firsthand, for the first time; and contrary to Steve's initial assessment that Tony would never put his life on the line for anyone but himself - he does just that.

This is what makes this movie so powerful.

Sure, it builds upon every team member’s arc; even Fury's. But it is Tony who proves himself above all; who shows the team what we the audience already knew. That he is a hero, that our past does not define us. That Tony Stark feels, that he knows right from wrong although he's still stumbling blind half the time - just like the rest of us. And it proves to Steve - to the entire team - that he is not merely the selfish, arrogant asshole only sticking up for himself. He is a man, albeit a flawed one, who cares deeply. Who feels, who mourns, who appreciates life and the people around him; and who is - behind the barrier he's placed between himself and everyone else to avoid getting hurt - extremely insecure. He is fearful, apprehensive, sensitive, and well aware of his shortcomings.

And Tony Stark is, first and foremost, a good man.

Repost from my previous blog.

#tony stark #iron man #discourse #meta #tony #stark #anthony stark #rdj #robert downey junior #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #infinity saga #the avengers #my take #hot takes #cause i love tony #fight me

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what-if-i-imagine · 5 years ago

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“You’re so obsessed to find someone to love you because you can’t love yourself.”

Requested by my goddess: @a-single-drop-of-ink

Wally looked up from his home work the moment he heard the familiar feather light footfalls coming down the hall of his dormitory.

In barely a second he was at the door opening it up, smiling at his roommate whose hands were full of groceries. His roommate smiled back that perfect smile that could make any heart melt, and Wally remembered what he had told his Aunt over FaceTime the night before while he was out.

“He makes it feel like home.”

His Aunt had gone from her joking, bubbly happiness to a more subdued, love-struck but still happy state. She had given him that same smile she made any time they went through her photo albums of her and his uncle.

“Be careful,” she told him. Because she knew. Wally had told her all about his roommate, and she knew just as well as him where this would go.

“How was your date last night?” he asked with a mischievous smile, fighting back the thoughts in the back of his head.

“Well, I didn’t come back to the dorm, did I?” Dick, his roommate, replied easily. It was true, he hadn’t come back to the dorm at all the night before, shooting Wally a text around midnight saying this new girl he liked was letting him stay at her place. He pretended to rack his brain to remember her name, even though it was burned into his heart just like all the others.

“Kori, right? The foreign exchange student?” he asked.

“Yup,” Dick popped the P as a grin grew on his face. “She was great Wally, she was perfect. I think she’s the one.”

“You said that about Barbara G too. And Vic from sci. And Raya from the gym. And Roy from the coffee shop-”

“You’ve made your point!” Dick laughed, wacking him playfully with a box of plastic forks. “And for your information, all of them were the one, they just didn’t realize it.”

“You mean how Vic was too focused on school for commitment, Raya wasn’t looking for something serious, Barbara fell for one of her bandmates, and Roy was in love with your younger brother?” Wally asked.

“You know, you can be really mean sometimes,” Dick said with no heat.

“Just pointing out the obvious,” Wally shrugged. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Well you have the choice between the two greatest delicacies in the land,” Dick said with much flourish, unpacking the groceries into their mini fridge and food bin. “Either the Irish dish of Luck Charms cereal, or the Japanese dish of Ramen.”

“I think I’ll go for the Japanese option tonight. I had cereal this morning.”

“That shouldn’t stop you.”

Wally rolled his eyes and got out one of the disposable bowls they should probably not be using in a microwave and started on his food. As he and Dick watched the opening credits for the most recent cheesy romcom tv show Dick had gotten addicted to, Wally wondered if Kori was really going to be the one. The one was going to some eventually, obviously, but how soon was that going to be?

The actual one only showed up a month later, after Dick and Kori’s civil breakup. By Civil, Wally really meant explosive by anyone else's terms, but for Dick this was like a beautiful kiss goodbye.

Of course, Dick always ended up good friends with his exs and his exs’ new partner. There was even a joking group chat with them all, with one being added each time Dick made up with his most recent breakup.

But at the start, his breakups were always messy. And Dick, in turn, became messy for at least a week afterwards.

He stumbled into the apartment that night, obviously recovering from a hangover caused by morning drinking with Roy, a new set of hickies around his neck and a hand in his disheveled hair.

“It’s a Monday, Dick,” Wally pointed out, barely glancing up from his homework.

“I’m honestly over caring,” Dick snapped a bit, chugging down one of Wally’s protein shakes from the fridge. Wally didn’t react, either to the snipish behavior or the obvious disturbance of personal property. He was used to this. Trying to point out a mistake to Dick or tell him what was good for him automatically set off that same defensive part of his brain that came into play while fighting with his father.

“So who were they?” Wally asked, referring to the hickies.

Dick hummed in though, looking down at himself, “The older ones from last night are from Helena, Babs’s other bandmate. The newer ones were courtesy of Little Wing’s friend Artemis. I think she’s related to Donna somehow?”

“No follow up dates?”

“Shut up,” Dick snapped again. His expression softened after as he sighed, taking another sip of the protein shake and putting it back with the mercy of leaving at least half for Wally’s nighttime run. “Sorry. Just tired.”

“I can tell,” Wally said levelly.

As he watched Dick fall back onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow, he let a common thought when it came to Dick’s breakup cross his mind.

He always does this to himself. Subconsciously on purpose.

It wasn’t Dick’s fault. He had been like this as long as Wally could remember, and probably even longer than their friendship had been in place. The cycle was a vicious one that Dick had had on repeat since he was fifteen from what Wally knew.

Crush hardly, love wholly, hurt deeply.

Fall in love, get in a relationship, torture self when it ends.

Wally knew what a self destructive man looked like, and Dick was definitely one. It ran in his family based off of what he had seen of his father, Jason and Cassandra.

“I called in an order for pizza,” Wally informed him, looking back to his laptop. “It should be here in an hour. Got a new movie too while I was at the store that I think you’ll like.”

“Did you get ice cream?” Dick asked, muffled by his pillow.

“Three different kinds and a bottle of cheap wine.”

“You’re a saint.”

Once Wally finished the first draft of his thesis and the pizza arrived, the both crawled down to their little cozy spot in front of their tv that sat on the ground.

The movie was shitty. Most of the ones dick liked were, but Wally still loved watching them with Dick. This particular movie was a hallmark movie from the early 2010s, which should say enough about the plot alone, and it was Dick’s perfect brand of sappy that hit a little too close to home where the girl realizes her boyfriend was shitty and she belonged with the gymnast heart throb with a heart of gold.

“Hey Wally,” Dick whispered as the main character ran into the arms of her true love.

“Yeah?” Wally hummed, leaning back into Dick’s hand where it was gently scratching at his head.

“What’s wrong with me?” Wally wouldn’t have even heard him if he weren’t leaned back on his chest. He didn’t freeze, but his mind did stutter for a moment. He was shocked when he subtly checked the wine bottle to see it was completely untouched.

“What do you mean Dickie?” he asked, glancing up only for Dick to nudge his head back down to face the tv.

“You know what I mean,” Dick said. “What’s wrong with me? All these people in the movies, all of my exs and friends, it only takes them one or two tries before they find the one. Why can’t I?”

Something wet dripped onto Wally’s head as Dick pressed his nose into his hair. He was only slightly shaking, but Wally could still feel it at every point of contact.

Wally got up, gently fighting past Dick’s refusal to let him go too far and turned to face him. He leaned forward on his knees between Dick’s legs and cupped his face, stroking away the small streams of tears.

“Because you want someone who loves you,” Wally answered, staring into those deep, pain filled eyes. The pain he saw there he recognized, maybe not as his own, but still as familiar. A deeply rooted self depreciation that offered no room for growth.

“That doesn't explain why I go out every day when I’m alone looking for someone new,” Dick defended, more tears falling. “It doesn’t make sense, Wally. Wanting love doesn’t explain this mess.”

“It does, Dick. You’re so obsessed to find someone to love you because you can’t love yourself,” Wally knew he was crossing a few lines by saying this, but he couldn’t stop himself. IT was obvious in the way Dick found his identity in the people he loved. His family, his friends, and above all else his long list of past lovers for however long they lasted could testify to that. Dick looked like he didn’t want to believe what he was hearing and was more confused than ever. Wally took it as a sign to elaborate.

“You constantly go out looking for these boys and girls because you want them to love you enough that you forget how empty you feel. It’s not your fault, it’s just the way you and your family work. You don’t think you deserve love, but you can't stand yourself when you’re without it.”

“Wally,” Dick’s voice broke and hitched, his face flooding with the horror of how on point his words were. Tears spilled faster than before, and Wally leaned even further forward to wrap his arms around his friend. He tangled his fingers gently in his hair and rhythmically rubbed his back, letting him cry it out on his shoulder.

“You’re wrong,” Dick said, voice wet and heavy with his tears.

“How am I wrong?” Wally whispered, barely a breath against the nape of Dick’s neck.

“It’s not- the only- reason,” Dick’s voice broke up with soft sobs.

Wally held him a little tighter, rocking awkwardly back to sit on his legs as Dick moved to his knees too without breaking any contact. Dick was leaning more into him now, and Wally silently prayed he wouldn’t fall back with the weight into the that was now playing the ending credits,

“It’s because I love someone else,” Dick sobbed miserably. “I love someone else, but they don’t deserve the mess I am.”

“That’s not true. It’s just what your brain wants you to think,” Wally shook his head.

“It is true,” Dick was barely audible over his heart wrenching sobs. He clung to Wally tighter, his fingers digging almost harshly into the back of Wally’s shirt.

“It’s true because it’s you. You’re the one.”

Wally froze this time, his breath completely stopping.

How many times he had dreamt of Dick saying those words, and none of those dreams happened like this.

Wally regained his composure as quickly as he did everything else in his life and was back to comforting his roommate.

“It’s okay Dickie,” he said, pressing a ghost-like kiss to his hair. “You’re the one too. You always have been.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won't. But we are going to get you help, okay? You need help Dick, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s normal to need help.”

“Are you going to call my dad?” Dick asked pitifully, the sobs dying down to sniffles.

“Maybe. If that’s what you want. We will talk about it in the morning when you’ve had more rest.”

“Okay.”

Dick went quiet for a moment then spoke again, “Hey Wally?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s easier to love myself when I’m with you.”

Wally didn’t say anything in response. He just kissed his head again and rocked them back and forth until Dick fell asleep.

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paintedpoems · 5 years ago

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Black Water Arc: War of The Water Tyrants.

“Wind’s ontology refuses to take separateness as an inherent feature of the world. […] And this is, in part, wind’s value—it has an existential precondition that appears only in the context of contact. Wind is touching, mutual, moving.”

— Cymene Howe, Ecologics

It seems overly contradictory to start a piece about water tyrants with a quote about the wind, doesn’t it? In actuality, readers of the novel would find this comparison immensely appropriate. This is because although black water arc is about the head-to-head battle between Shi Wudu and Hexuan; the center point, the cause and the final effect of this whole arc is Shi Qingxuan.

“Existential Precondition” or fate. It is ironic that wind is described as such because that is essentially Shi Qingxuan’s inherent problem and “Refuses to take separateness” was Shi Qingxuan’s ultimate solution.

Short Summary:

The infant Shi Qingxuan has a curse placed upon them. The curse prophesied a life full of unfathomable hardships for Shi Qingxuan and that is now their fate. Their brother, Shi Wudu, who is extremely protective of his sibling, is bent on saving Shi Qingxuan from this curse. Shi Wudu being naturally gifted eventually ascends as a god, he uses his position in the heavenly realm to then help his younger brother ascend to godhood as well. It is eventually revealed that Shi Wudu secretly changed his sibling’s cursed fate with another person of similar name and better fortune.

The person in question is Hexuan. Hexuan was fated to live a prosperous life and ascend as a god but instead lives with tragedy latched onto him. He goes through poverty, false accusations, abuse and all of his loved ones die under heartbreaking circumstances. Hexuan eventually dies and returns as a vengeful ghost bent on punishing the one that had wronged him. Hexuan wants justice and since the gods refuse to pass judgement, he decides to come to a verdict on his own. In short, that is what black water arc is about: Judgement. In a grey situation, where exactly do we place the blame?

On Morality:

Shi wudu verses Hexuan, ‘The war of the water tyrants’ dilemma, is one of the most mind-blowingly well thought out cases of grey morality in literature. It is no secret that the reductiveness of morals into “good” and “evil” categories is one of mxtx's main themes often explored heavily in her previous works. The author rejects the absolute extremes in character viewpoints, both in her protagonists and antagonists and applies the concept in varying thoughts including race and politics.

The difference in this arc however, is the projection of the audience’s principles into each character. That is, between Hexuan and Shi wudu, she never specifies who the antagonist is. It is left to the readers to explore, reflect and come to an understanding on what exactly it is like to venture into the grey zone. Neither of the two were selfishly driven, none of their initial intentions stemmed from hatred. It was familial love that drove them to hurt one another, familial love that blindsided them. In their quest to protect and to avenge their family, innocent family members lost their lives or were hurt; on both their parts. This is where the definitions of victims and perpetrators get skewed. It is so skewed in fact, that the only valid testimony left is the reader's sentiments for the characters and their own self-principles.

From Shi wudu’s “Everything I have today, I fought for myself... I will change fate that I do not possess. My fate is up to me and not the heavens” is the will to fight predestination. Verses, Hexuan’s “What right did he have to suck another’s blood, trample another’s bones to reach the skies, and still maintain a peace of mind. Enjoying all such luxuries without any sense of burden?” the victim of the change in predestination. Two strong, commendable principles, founded by righteousness but blinded by arrogance and hatred. Later, to maintain a peace of mind, Hexuan tramples on Shi Qingxuan and in the process of fighting for oneself, Shi Wudu ultimately changes Shi Qingxuan’s fate for the worse.

We even witness the Shi Wudu’s blindness take a terrible turn at the very end when he attempts to strangle his own sibling that he fought to protect all this time. His belief that Shi Qingxuan will not be safe without him, his lack of trust in his own brother, is part of his arrogance.

In return, we see Hexuan’s blind hatred falter for a moment when he keeps giving Shi Qingxuan chances for safety. At the finish line, we see both the water tyrant’s own morals and goals swap. This change in attitude towards Shi Qingxuan’s future is another outstanding ploy by mxtx because expectation of a good outcome is the core of morality. In the end, the readers simply wish for a good ending for Shi Qingxuan and when Shi Wudu decides he is going to die together with his sibling, it confuses the audience. There is a shock factor added, you perceive Shi Wudu as the protector and he pulls the safety rug from under your feet. Instant shock and confusion violating the purity of the absolute good, so the reader’s immediate reaction is to look for safety in the not-absolute evil i.e. Hexuan. However, when Hexuan does not provide that complete comfort at the end, only slightly appeasing everyone, it stings. Reinforcing that cognitive blend of mixed morality into reader’s beliefs, further skewing the curve.

It is this kind of writing that creates a split in the fandom, not in a bad way, but more in terms of sparking a conversation about where people’s individual morality lies. Each character has their past, their reasons, their flaws and goodness and it gives the audience something to root for. In addition, the rooting is not a hundred percent good versus bad, because each character’s choices are equally flawed. The fandom selects a side but with one foot still lingering on the other territory. Siding with Hexuan but understanding the reasoning behind Shi Wudu’s actions or siding with Shi Wudu but sympathizing with Hexuan’s pain and loss. The uneven split is how you know the characterization was not mediocre.

In regards to characterizations, Shi wudu and Hexuan are too similar. Their personalities, personas, auras; the proud, stubborn, intelligent water tyrants. We speak of these likenesses because Shi Qingxuan lives through this battle and will never be able to unsee the similarities. Hexuan remains, a walking reminder of Shi Wudu. This feels deliberately done as the final stab to the readers, so that Shi Qingxuan and Hexuan’s relationship remains unmendable.

Pure Point of Views, Shi Qingxuan and Xielian:

Wind is invisible, its apprehension comes from its exposure to objects or in this case other people. Shi Qingxuan is air, pure, lively and touching, forming a comforting contact with everyone they meet. The kind of character that brings about a reader’s protective instinct, in a sense, if anything were to happen to them it will infuriate and break the audience. A classic plot device to draw emotions from the readers. Why must this innocent child suffer for the sins of their brother? But, mxtx urges us to rethink this by wondering the same for Hexuan’s family. They were innocent too, why did they have to die on this path? Why is Shi Qingxuan’s innocence valid and not theirs? The audience feels for Shi Qingxuan because we have become familiarised with them. Shi Qingxuan has now made that connection with the readers, the wind has touched their hearts versus only receiving glimpses of what was Hexuan’s previous family. The effect is lacking that familial impact, that bond. Classic writing schemes, beautiful.

At the end of the clashing of the waves, the person left with the permanent scars was the blameless Shi Qingxuan. Their life was molded and directed into this final point without their control, as if caught in a sea storm. The one that paid for this feud was ultimately Shi Qingxuan, the person neither of the other two wanted to hurt.

Another classic writing device I want to finally explore and praise is the use of the narrator to throw the audience off the culprit’s scent. The mystery of Black Water Arc was quite simple actually, mxtx layed out all the clues and hints for the audience out in the open. Like Xielian himself states later, the simplest answer was always visible, he was just overthinking things. And if Xielian, the semi-narrator, overthinks then the audience will overthink. Xielian, an intelligent and the fundamentally good person, exudes a trusting aura. The audience cannot help but trust his judgement and perception of things, it is a credibility built from our experience with his mystery solving abilities in the previous arcs.

The reason why the black water reveal was so impactful and shocking was because of Xielian. The semi narrator continuously made excuses for MingYi, his subconscious trusted him, even if he had his suspicions. He didn’t enforce them strongly enough, leaving the audience to believe Xielian was merely exploring a wrong option for the sake of eliminating possible culprits. The audience was not viewing MingYi as a culprit, rather they were waiting for Xielian to come to the inevitable conclusion of his innocence. An item to quickly cross off the checklist so that they could finally pursue the “real” culprit.

MingYi couldn’t use the Earth Master Shovel? Xielian makes the excuse for him before the audience can even dive deeper on that thought. HuaCheng draws suspicion back to MingYi and Xielian immediately doubts his most trusted confidant’s assumptions. Xielian trusts MingYi, so we trust MingYi against our better judgement. When the narrator has left no room for mistrust, how can the audience hold their stance?

The proficient push and pull charade played out by Hexuan and Huacheng is another impactful factor that took part in diverting Xielian’s mistrust. The nefarious roles they played policing and suspecting each other, from Hexuan’s “don’t you have spies in the heavens?” to Huacheng’s lie detecting dice game. The solid plan of the two suspicious individuals doing the dirty work for Xielian, did not allow Xielian to mold his thoughts in his own way. He was led astray whilst the other two worked together to draw trust onto each other. So, the audience did not have room for doubt either.

In addition to all of that, the most fundamental foundation to Xielian’s trust for MingYi was that fact that he was the one who saved him from Huacheng in the first place. Simply because of the ghost city arc, we already place Huacheng and Hexuan on opposing sides rather than assuming they were accomplices. Furthermore, because of Xielian’s trust in Huacheng’s intellect and his belief of Huacheng’s prejudice against MingYi; he would constantly monitor Huacheng’s reaction to his own deductions. Unfortunately, Huacheng was a terrible basis point and by the time Xielian realizes it, it is too late. An ingenious tactic.

The author led us off track in such a brilliant manner, I had to sing praises at the end of this piece. The way our mind perceives people or situations, is the essence of our moral compass. The mind is subjective, so subjectivity in judgement is ever present, ever grey.

Notes:

This unforgettable and excruciatingly tragic arc is an important turning point in the book and we are all aware that it does not need a special summary. However, I wanted to start with a bit of a reintroduction, just to stay true to the essay tradition. Is this an essay? A think-piece? An analysis? I would not dare shame any of those academic classifications by claiming to be writing as such.

I hope this was enjoyable to read.

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#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #mxtx #writings #analysis #ahhhh i promised I wouldn’t do anymore long post!!! sorry for your dashboard fill ;___;#*bow in apology*

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twistedcharismaaa · 5 years ago

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Lost & Found Pt 4

Summary: You’re living a suffocating life and you finally find breath in Masego.

Author’s Note: Hi guyssss! I’m finally back with another chapter. I really struggled piecing this chapter together so I really hope you guys enjoy! Leave a comment for ya girl! You know I live for the commentary, I love you guys so much! Enjoy!

Micah’s eyes left yours for a brief moment. He inhaled and leaned his head back on the wall and readjusted his shades on his face. He watched his calculated chaos unfold in the elevator which gave him much delight.

“You know I told you my name…” he said while raising a finger and wagging it dramatically.

“You even told me your boyfriend’s name, but you never told me yours.” he continued.

You slowly pulled off your rubber yellow cleaning gloves one by one and tossed them on the supply cart. You crossed your arms and leaned back on the wall behind you letting your eyes trail the many lit elevator buttons.

“Charisma,” you answered with a subtle smirk on your face.

“Charisma? You know I’m full of that,” he said while placing his right hand on his chest proudly.

Again, you found yourself laughing. You shook your head and rolled your eyes towards the ceiling before eyeing him once more with a half-smirk.

“That I can clearly see,” you answered.

“You know what I want to see right now?” he quizzed while pulling off his black shades and stuffing them in the pouch of his all-black hoodie.

“Indulge me,” you responded completely intrigued.

“Me and you having lunch,” he said while waving his hands in the air theatrically as if he was actually visualizing it.

“So, are you hungry, lady?” he asked with a raised brow.

You inhaled silently and eyed the elevator for a short moment. Letting your eyes wander from wall to wall. Finally, you fixated on a painting that rested on the wall behind him. You’ve seen this painting a thousand times before but today, for whatever reason, it caught your attention. You admired its simplicity which made it even more elegant. You visually found pleasure in the contrasting colors of blue and red. The uneven brushstrokes seemed to tell a story that mirrored yours. It was a painting of a cup that was half-full. Or was it half-empty? Looking past Micah you spoke lowly.

“If I told you a secret, would you keep it?” you asked still eyeing the painting.

“Absolutely,” he responded.

“This is the most I’ve laughed in a while,” you admitted while swallowing slowly. Now locking eyes with him, you continued to lean on the wall behind you for support. You bit down on your bottom lip nervously and waited for his response.

“And why is that?” he questioned.

“Life hasn’t been so kind to me lately. I’m figuring things out - figuring me out actually. So I don’t know if I’m the perfect candidate to have lunch with.” you said while changing positions. This time, you shifted your weight off of the wall’s surface and placed both hands on the supply cart. You watched the elevator doors close and open. The classical music playing in the background seemed to intensify. Or maybe this moment was intensifying?

“I have a secret too since we’re sharing,” he admitted. You enjoyed his speaking voice. It oozed calmness and embodied serenity.

“I saw you last night at the club. You looked beautiful by the way. While I was on stage, all I wanted to do was dive in and save you. I would take you away if you’d let me. Lunch is just the first step.” he said while eyeing your frame subtly.

Your heartbeat quickened as your palms grew sweaty. He watched you like you were the only thing that mattered. His intense, penetrating eyes piercing right through made you weak. It scared you but intrigued you.

“You’re famous. You whisk away every girl that you find pretty?” you quizzed trying to make sense of it all. Just last night, you had a man that refused to touch you. Just hours ago, you were neglected in every way that you could think of. And now, you have a caramel kissed man standing in front of you treating as if you were the purest diamond. As if you were rare, unique, and completely hard to find.

You watched a smile dance across his full lips. He shook his head and licked his lips before answering.

“I hate being famous actually. For many different reasons that I, unfortunately, don’t have enough time to tell you. We’re running out time lady.” he said while watching the elevator buttons. “It’s hard finding authenticity in people. It’s hard finding real love, real emotion, real music - I can literally go on and on. Everyone hides behind facades and masks. You’re different. You’ve always been you it’s just no one was insightful enough to pay attention.” he continued.

You finally reached your destined floor. The doors opened and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t want him to go.

“Thank you for making me smile today,” you said softly.

“Best believe, it was my pleasure. See you around Charisma,” he responded while holding the elevator door open for you. You reluctantly exited the elevator and waved him goodbye.

--------

After a tedious day of working hard, you decided to attend your appointment with Tiffany, your trusted therapist. After the loss of the baby, you’ve been seeing a Tiffany inconsistently. By nature, you were instinctively self-reliant due to your own insecurities and the insecurities forced on you by others. Desmonde thought it was a waste of money and your friends who you barely speak to now had their own speculations. You viewed Tiffany as a human diary, holding your precious secrets - holding your darkest memories. There were times where you made progress and had these astounding revelations ready to make leaps and bounds in life and unfortunately, there were times you left feeling the absolute same. Consistently, inconsistent with your mental health, with your emotions, with your goals, and with your dreams. Maybe you cared too much? Too little? Maybe you were broken beyond repair? You grew up in a single-parent household where your mother showered you in the healthiest love and attention. Every time you needed her she was there. Constantly, going over and beyond for you - with you. But with her passing at the tender age of 20, it seemed as if life came at you like a raging storm. Quickly, devouring you piece by piece and brick by brick. At 21, you dropped out of college. Working like a dog and living check to check. At 21, you met Desmonde and fell for him and by 22 you were pregnant. Now at the new fresh age of 23, you were alone again.

Tiffany opened her office door and greeted you with the brightest smile. She wore a sky blue buttoned blouse and grey slacks. She wore her hair down making her amber highlights easy to notice. You greeted her with a smile and a warm hello before entering her office. Casually taking a seat, you noticed that she redecorated. Had it been that long since you’ve been here?

“How are you feeling today?” she asked while opening her mustard yellow notepad.

“Confused,” you said while tugging at the sleeve of your dark red hoodie.

“Hmmm. Why is that? Oh, and happy belated before I forget,” she quizzed attentively.

“Thank you. I actually broke up with Desmonde on my birthday. I don’t mean to make it as aggressive as it sounds. I just didn’t know how else to um say that.” you admitted still fidgeting with your sleeve.

“What brought this on?” she asked now actively scribbling in her notepad.

“At this point, I’m convinced it was inevitable,” you answered now making direct eye contact.

“How so?”

“He didn’t touch me, nurture me, educate me, push me - He didn’t do a lot of things. My cup was always half empty with him.”

“You’ve been together for quite some time, right? So why did you stay? If he didn’t water you or stimulate you? Why give him so much of your time?”

“I stayed because I thought he was what I deserved,” you admitted.

“Why do you think you deserve to be wilted and neglected?” she questioned.

“That’s a question I keep asking myself honestly,” you responded.

“It sounds like this break up with Desmonde brought self-awareness to you,” she suggested.

“Can I ask you something?” you quizzed.

“Of course,” she answered smiling meekly.

“I’m naturally closed off. But today, I had the deepest conversation with a stranger. What does that mean?”

“What did you talk about?”

“I admitted to him that I was practically unhappy,” you said while finally resting your busy hand. No longer messing with your sleeve.

“That’s very interesting. And his response was?”

“His response was that he would rescue me if I’d let him. And the crazy thing is I believed him,” you said feeling a smile grace your lips.

“This stranger sounds like quite the charmer,” she said smirking and taking more notes casually.

“His name is Micah. He’s a guest at the hotel,” you admitted.

“So not a stranger then?” she quizzed.

“ An acquaintance I suppose?” you replied.

“So, you’re questioning why you’re doing something that’s typically out of your guarded character? Yes?”

“Yes,” you stated.

“Maybe subconsciously you want something different. Different responses attract different reactions. You put out a different response because internally you’re longing to break routine. After feeling half-empty for so long, it’s only normal to crave to feel full.”

“He asked me to lunch. I declined at first of course. But now, I’m reconsidering because of note he left me while I was cleaning his room.”

“What did it say?” she asked completely enticed.

“I-I have it in my pocket. I’ll read it to you.” you stuttered.

Slowly pulling the note from your pocket, you cleared your voice and read it aloud.

“Listening to music doing nothing but thinking of you. Thinking of your body and how it was handcrafted by God. Each curve sexier than the last. My mind keeps reminiscing about your sweet smile and how it fiercely ignites me while softly illuminating my soul. Those soft plump lips begging to be kissed on. I never have seen a woman so radiant. I’ve never seen eyes so captivating and so pure. I continuously watch you - study you in hopes that I can understand your beautiful complexity. I can see the brokenness. I know we barely know each other, but everything happens for a reason. I hope that you’ll let me kiss you in every area that he’s hurt you. But first, let me be a friend. - Micah”

Before you knew it, tears streamed down your cheeks connecting down to your chin.

“Why are you crying Charisma?” Tiffany inquired.

“I haven’t had a friend in a very long time,” you answered honestly.

“There is no perfect way to heal. Healing comes in many different forms. It can come through isolation, art, family, new scenery, and friends. Charisma, maybe it’s time for a friend.”

You nodded in acceptance and quietly thought to yourself about the painting from earlier. Cup half-empty or cup half-full? It’s all open to interpretation. All you knew is that you’re ready to be full. To be whole.

Interrupting your thoughts, Tifanny posed a question.

“So what do you say Charisma?”

“I say, it’s a date. I need a friend more than I need anything else right now. It’s a date.” you answered.

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

Part 3 Part 5

@l-auteuse @ghostfacekill-monger @thickemadame @chaneajoyyy @soulfood-fics @nizzle-mo @jamielennkeeler @ljstraightnochaser @pineappear @lostennyc @miss-nneka @thadelightfulone @qweentbh @big-brows-bigger-dreams @rosemilage @sarcastic-sunshines @mygirlrenee @keiva1000 @justanothernerdgirl @cyntgefel01 @libbylivliv @theboldlady @geriixox @seffyn @errin261 @migosis @cocogodess15 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @kemkem101 @peacefuldesiress @babbyaangel @mooon-berry @ju5tp34chy

#masego #masego music #masego fanfiction #masego x black reader #masego fic #masego imagine #masego x black!reader #masego x !blackreader #micah davis #lady lady #tadow

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starfiretheninja · 5 years ago

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BBRae- Shaking Off the Dust

This was originally a piece for the BBRae Zine, but that got cancelled. Regardless, I was proud that I got another piece done for these two and still want to bring it into the world. Enjoy!

Despite being part demon, a creature associated with darkness, Raven had a standard sleep schedule. The headaches induced from staying up too late tended to aggravate her powers and often required a longer meditation session to alleviate. On this particular night, however, the trilogy Raven was close to finishing was simply too much of a cliffhanger to leave until morning. Her extended reading session paid off, as the book ended on a surprisingly non-cliché and satisfactory note and she was only suffering from mild thirst.

Nothing a little tea can’t cure, Raven thought as she stood up, stretching her tense legs.

Leaving the quiet of her room, she noticed a dim light down the hall. Shuffling past Beast Boy’s room, she blinked wearily at the light that peeked out from under his door. Only unintelligible mumbling sounded from inside. Raven shrugged, figuring he was up late playing a tough level of Mega Monkey: Apes Rising on his GameDude console again. He hadn’t done that in some time, but old habits die hard.

With that, Raven continued on her way. Having made it to the kitchen and satisfied her parched throat with warm herbal tea, she came back past Beast Boy’s room. This time, she heard a yelp, followed by the crashing of Beast Boy and what sounded like a stack of comic books hitting the floor.

Raven sighed. She couldn’t let that go uninvestigated. At the very least, she felt she had to know if Beast Boy had managed to break a toe tripping over his massive collection of nerdy treasures again.

Opening the door, she spied Beast Boy rubbing his face. Around him were his possessions, pulled from his closet and tossed around the room in what, to her eyes, was a haphazard mess. The garbage can in the corner was stuffed well past the brim with dolls—action figures, as he insisted—that Raven was certain he had had since the Tower was first built. Beast Boy caught sight of her. Surprised, then sheepish, he attempted to stand amidst the scattered pile surrounding him.

“Care to explain what you’re up to on this once peaceful night?” she inquired as he morphed into a hummingbird, flitted over the pile, and returned to his human form right in front of her.

“I’m, uh, cleaning up a bit,” he said, clearing his throat.

“If by ‘cleaning’ you mean ‘purging your room of all of your cherished comics and collectibles’.”

“If you’d like to help, then it would get done quicker. Heck, you could pick it all up with your powers.” He gestured towards the remaining work. Raven didn’t take the bait.

“I’d rather not be partially responsible for the post-cleaning regret you could have.” She took a pointed look at his belongings, as if to emphasize just how much he was suggesting tossing out.

“Aw come on, Raven.” He picked up a random comic by his feet and waved it. “Do you really think I’ll miss Goo Goblins #37? I think I’ve moved on past that one.”

Raven shrugged in slight agreement. The admittedly campy-looking comic was certainly goofy enough to make a seventeen-year-old question if he was engaging in appropriate level material. Still, Beast Boy was always one to cling to childish endeavors.

“If you insist,” is all she could comment. If he was truly ready for such an adjustment, she wouldn’t be the one to stop him.

Grinning satisfactorily, Beast Boy took to scooping up his disheveled comics and setting them in lumps just outside his room. Raven stepped further into his room to allow him through the open door.

“I’ll just set these out here for now. Then I can get them into boxes and maybe even pass them out to some kids at their schools. I know a few Dirty Dan fans who would kill for some of these issues,” Beast Boy thought out loud, already beaming at the thought of making a kid’s day.

“Just as long as their parents don’t object,” Raven snarked, hoping that Dirty Dan wasn’t about a kid who refused to take a bath. The last thing Robin would want was a surge of complaints from parents claiming they were bad influences on the youth.

Watching Beast Boy’s slow progress, Raven’s curiosity got the better of her and she leaned down to investigate what kind of reading Beast Boy had invested himself in for all of these years. There were plenty of brightly colored covers of fictional superhero groups. Why these were written when literal superheroes saved the world was beyond her. Beneath that was a handful of light horror, with cartoonish monsters chasing hapless teenage victims. Perfect for a demographic who hadn’t witnessed literal demons in their lifetime. Next was . . .

Raising it up for a closer look, it dawned on her just what she was holding.

“Wait, is this-?”

“Crud! My bad!” Beast Boy rushed over to carefully take the book from her hands. “This must have been mixed with my Deranged Daredevils collection. I wasn’t going to throw this one out, promise.”

Beast Boy reached over her to place the book on the singular chair in the room. So far, the supposed ‘safe’ pile consisted of childhood classics, Insect Care for Dummies, 1001 Drop Dead Puns, and a few wildlife encyclopedias. The newest addition was gifted to Beast Boy by Raven for his first birthday after the team had formed. Back then, she hardly knew him, but didn’t want to deny him the joy of receiving a gift from someone he always reached out to. So, she decided on something that could either come across as a gag gift or a genuine appeal to his interests, despite her complete uncertainty on whether or not he would appreciate it.

When he ripped open the packaging and read the title, The Essential Calvin and Hobbes, he lit up.

“Oh, cool! I’ve read some of these before! I don’t know half the words that come out of the kid’s mouth, but the tiger is pretty cool! Thanks, Raven.” He gave her a classic toothy smile and Raven was admittedly relieved that he didn’t reject the gift or feel any disappointment.

That was years ago, though. Was he still so attached to that particular book? Raven had given him far more personal gifts since getting to know him on a more familiar level.

“Why is that one an exception?” she posed the question as he squatted next to the pile she was looking through.

“Hmm?” Beast Boy looked back for clarification, and a light bulb went off.

“Oh! That’s easy. Because you gave it to me. You probably knew I wouldn’t get half the jokes, but you took a chance anyway. Maybe I’d get it eventually, you know?” His voice trailed off at that last statement.

There it was. Something truly was nagging at him, then. That something had pushed him to embark on a spontaneous cleaning spree to either distract or remedy. While Beast Boy was, oddly enough, the toughest one on the team for her to read empathetically, he was normally easy to understand by his actions alone. However, she had noticed a pattern with him over the years. He was the best at wearing a mask. Robin attempted to remain stoic, but one could still tell what he was feeling. Beast Boy, on the other hand, played pretend. Concealing aggravation and hurt with a stream of jokes was his fallback. This left him with buried sadness, which was never good for the long-term psyche.

Considering how to approach the situation, Raven supposed prodding him a bit would perhaps bring more clarity as to the cause of his distress.

“Hmm. I figured your vocabulary would expand.”

“When, though?” Beast Boy let slip out. He asked so sullenly, the way that a child would when they were seeking approval. Raven recognized this tone from her time spent with Melvin as she began her early teen years. The girl wanted more independence, but a part of her still sought to know that Raven was proud of her in everything that she did.

Upon realizing his slip-up, Beast Boy’s eyes darted around the room. He nabbed a toy from the pile before him and held it up.

“Does this one bring back memories or what?” he chuckled, beaming a large smile. It was the singing monkey with the cymbals that sounded while Raven’s manifested fear chased the Titans throughout the Tower.

Raven sighed softly. That was a poor diversion and he knew it.

“Beast Boy, why are you doing this?” she queried, gesturing around the room. “This ‘spring cleaning’ is too out of character to come out of nowhere.”

“Can’t a guy want a little more walking room?”

“Not when it involves pretending that nothing’s wrong.”

Raven’s eyes met his. He held contact for mere moments before the façade cracked.

Beast Boy’s false smile slowly dropped. He knew he shouldn’t be hiding from her. Raven was one of his best friends, after all.

“’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, looking away.

“It is if it’s bothering you,” she responded, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. Beast Boy turned back to her, setting the monkey down.

How would he start?

“It’s kind of complicated.”

Raven had the time for him.

“Then start from the beginning.”

With that, Beast Boy sat back, leaning his cheek on a propped-up knee. Raven lowered herself into a crisscross, fully facing him. He took a few moments to collect his thoughts, memories reflecting clearly in his eyes.

“Back, ah, with the Doom Patrol, I was just a kid when Mento started training me. He saw that my powers could be controlled and used for the greater good. And I wanted to be a hero! I wanted to help others. But I wasn’t used to getting shot at or transforming so much I passed out. It was rough for a while. And I messed up. A lot.

“Mento never let me forget any of the mistakes I made, even long after I learned from them. Sometimes, it took longer than it should have to learn, but I eventually got it. But that wasn’t good enough for him. It was for Rita, but Mento was the one in charge, so there was never an end to it.”

Beast Boy exhaled, stopping for a moment to likely push away memories that were crawling out of unpleasant depths of his subconscious.

“And that’s part of why you left?” Raven prompted.

“That was a big part of it. Just one day decided that I had enough, and I thought I could grow stronger if I became the sidekick of someone who could actually help me build on when I did something right. And when I met you guys, things were finally different, and everyone could rely on me in a fight. That felt good and I thought that maybe I wasn’t a total screw up after all. But today, with the mission I just- I messed up really bad and I knew what I did wrong right as it was happening.”

Oh.

Raven and Starfire had split off from the boys to tend to another emergency and didn’t hear back from them until after their mission was complete. Robin had seemed somewhat frazzled, but otherwise they had been successful as well. She hadn’t heard about any particular difficulties on their end.

Beast Boy continued on, his frustrations spilling out at this point.

“I mean, Robin and Cyborg were able to fix it, but Mumbo almost got away. We had him, but I slipped up and he did a lot more damage before we nabbed him again. That’s the kind of dumb mistake I made when I was just a kid, except back then, people died.” He nearly choked on his last words.

Raven’s thoughtful expression instantly morphed into a mixture between solemnity and shock. She had no idea he carried such a weight.

“Beast Boy . . .”

He let out a humorless laugh, his eyes unfocused and unwilling to meet hers.

“Do you ever just . . . get frustrated that you haven’t changed at all? Sometimes I still feel like the kid that can’t follow an order without screwing something up. I’m trying to get better at my job, but that’s not enough when lives are in danger,” he agonized, reaching up to grip his hair in his fist.

His emotions were beginning to overwhelm him. Beast Boy was so used to holding these demons in that he didn’t know how to handle them when they reared their ugly heads. And he hated himself for dumping his worries on Raven. She didn’t need to be dragged into his problems; he should be able to handle them on his own by now.

However, one fact that Beast Boy forgot was that Raven was a healer. She knew that part of the healing process included recognizing the hurt so one could fully recover.

“Beast Boy, you’re right to feel frustrated over this.” Raven began gently, so as to properly acknowledge his despair. “But you have grown up through the years that I’ve known you.”

“Today might prove you wrong,” he sighed defeatedly.

“One bad day doesn’t always indicate a pattern. Failing to react well under pressure happens to even the most disciplined of people.”

“Does it happen to you?”

Raven blinked. Where did that come from?

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always so in control and know what to do. I just don’t know if I can ever be as level-headed as you are.” Truthfully, though he complained about her supposed standoffishness when they first met, Beast Boy always admired her ability to remain calm. She could be cranky at times, but Raven was the Titan to turn to when you needed sage-like wisdom and a calming presence.

“. . . Not always.”

Beast Boy paused. He met her earnest and somewhat hesitant eyes. Where did that come from?

Raven pressed her lips tightly together, then, ever so slowly, began to speak.

“Sometimes . . . I think that I’m still as much of an isolated shut-in as when the team formed. You guys understand my snark, but I still go too far at times and I can tell the others don’t want to tell me that I hurt their feelings. We all struggle with insecurity, Beast Boy, no matter how well we hide it.”

Beast Boy leaned toward her, resting a hand in the space between them.

“You’ve grown so much though, Raven. I’ve noticed how much more you smile nowadays, and you actually talk to us about what you’re thinking about. I don’t think you would have been caught dead in my room like this when we first met,” he cracked a small smile, realizing just how intimate their situation was.

Raven relaxed, quietly grateful that the Beast Boy she knew was reemerging.

“No, I wouldn’t have.”

Now it was her turn.

“But the same goes for you. You take initiative when it’s called for and frankly, some of your strategies are the reason we make it through rougher battles.”

“Name one time,” Beast Boy held up a finger, still not entirely convinced.

“The initial charge against the Brotherhood. Morphing into a jellyfish to filter Scarecrow’s fear gas. Disabling that bomb as a cockroach so you wouldn’t be detected or incinerated,” Raven listed off confidently.

Beast Boy looked down, pondering her words. His shoulders relaxed and a soft smile slowly crept up onto his cheeks.

“Huh. I guess that was pretty mature of me,” he chuckled.

“You know,” she started, peering her head down to catch his eyes once more. “If you’re so worried about making mistakes, maybe talk to Robin about changing your training routine. Having variety might help your ability to react appropriately to any situation.”

“Yeah. That’d probably be a good place to start.”

“Also,” she began, gesturing to the mess around them. “Growing up doesn’t mean getting rid of your childhood joys. It just means you step up without being asked to.”

“I suppose you’re right. But I’ve been meaning to clean up for a while. Kind of hard to stay focused with so much clutter in your room.”

“Maybe leave it until you get a good night’s sleep,” she suggested.

“Eventually, but first there’s something I want to try.”

“And that would be . . .?”

Beast Boy reached back and grabbed the treasure that had sparked their night of revelations.

“Giving this book a try.” He waved the Calvin and Hobbes compilation before her. “You’ve granted me so much wisdom just now, I must have aged a few decades mentally. That is, if you’re not too tired.”

His hopeful expression was too much to pass up, especially at a time when he had opened up so much to her. It was out of character, but Raven was willing to give it a shot.

“I think I’m up for a little humor.”

Beast Boy mock grabbed his heart.

“Such an anomaly only comes once every other blood moon, so I’ll have to cherish you discovering your sense of humor.”

“The anomaly will pass faster the longer you talk about it.”

“Got it.”

They sat on the floor together, each holding one end of the book. Page by page, Beast Boy laughed outwardly at Calvin’s incessantly precocious dialogue. His eyes lit up as he brushed Raven’s shoulder, giddy to share the joke with her. Raven, in return, chuckled at Hobbes’ playful antics and allowed Beast Boy to see her rare carefree expressions.

What happened next truly made their night. The punchline was perfectly worded and timed for the both of them and they shared a singular moment of genuine laughter. Raven’s only a brief chortle and Beast Boy’s a lengthier guffaw, but the laughter of two friends nonetheless.

Raven could have denied the moment and blamed her increasingly delirious state. But she wasn’t about to deny Beast Boy the rare opportunity to have made her laugh. After all, sharing this moment with him was the best feeling she had all day.

#bbrae #beast boy #raven #teen titans #fanfic #i write

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sinceyouaskedme · 5 years ago

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The College Tapes episode 2 thoughts:

I say with all the love in the world and all the respect due for how truly top notch his acting is, but Briggon...cannot write. This script is, uh, a whole mess. Actual quote from an ATMO description: “Whatever a coffee shop sounds like.” This man is so lucky to be on crew with one of the best sound designers in the business because, honestly, what is anyone supposed to do with that.

I also feel like I should point out there’s like 70% less swearing in the script than in the podcast. Apparently Briggon just ad-libs all those f-bombs in wherever he feels like, which is. very funny 2 me.

The “forum Atypicals” concept makes a certain kind of sense, but feels like it sits really weirdly alongside the existence of the Order as an ancient global shadow organization specifically dedicated to making sure information about Atypicals doesn’t go public? But hey! When has the Order fit in with any of the other worldbuilding!

Anyways, the idea that Caleb has adopted two children via freshman orientation and they both just happened to also be Atypicals is super interesting and comes with big implications re: Atypicals being able to find each other In The Wild and building organic support networks outside of systems like the Order and the AM. It’s very reminiscent of Sam just randomly happening to find Mark in the past without even looking. (Also maybe related to however all the characters find each other in The Neon Darkness? IDK, I haven’t read it.) I’d be very interested in having this explored more explicitly.

Everything about Ben’s ability makes me laugh, it’s so vague. “Emotions are a kind of energy” lol, okay. Sure. Why not. Anyone want to place bets on whether or not time is going to be considered a kind of energy?

Caleb has spontaneously developed the ability to MANIPULATE PEOPLE’S EMOTIONS??? HOLY SHIT????? There’s zero chance this gets the exploration it deserves, but can you imagine if it did! The giant swirling angst vortex this has the potential to be! My god! Caleb was always so worried about manipulating people even just with knowing how they were feeling, he must be working himself into absolute KNOTS over actually being able to make them feel things.

Subpoint - the trailer made it sound like Caleb broke up with Adam because he felt Adam having doubt about their relationship, but consider the possibility: Caleb breaking up with Adam because he’s worried he’s going to subconsciously manipulate Adam into loving him, and deciding he’d rather be alone and heartbroken than responsible for something like that.

Mark refusing to change his voicemail message speaks to me deeply, but it doesn’t imply that he’s doing great.

Good evening and welcome to the Caleb/Mark section of this response post. I absolutely have been thinking about this ship ever since I saw the “date night with Mark” thing Caleb posted to his IG story in February. Please know they would be terrible together and that’s my absolute jam.

The real thing that has to be said is that their closeness feels like it’s come from kind of nowhere? They had pretty limited direct contact in TBS, they were always connected through Joan or Sam, and not mentioning either of those women here at all really pulls this towards that “we casual-misogyny’d so hard that we surpassed homosocialism and accidentally tripped into homoromanticism” vibe.

Caleb had to work himself up to calling Cole BUT he was totally chill and casual about calling Mark with no invitation, and it’s heavily implied that he calls him semi-regularly despite Mark never even answering his phone. IDK, I just think it’s cute. Someone please figure out how to put all of this together into some kind of 5+1 voicemail fic for me.

I genuinely have no thoughts on Cole, but Caleb being a big dummy who doesn’t know how to respond to being flirted with because he’s been dating the same guy since he was seventeen is fun, so I don’t mind this little baby romance arc even though it is sure to be absolutely fruitless and I’m certain will be handily discarded so Caleb and Adam can get back together by the end of the show. I do hope we get some jealous!Adam along the way, though, that sounds fun too.

#the college tapes #the college tapes spoilers #m

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larkiwrites · 5 years ago

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“Redemption” Chapter 16

AU: Supernatural Title: Redemption Chapter: Sixteen Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Word Count: 1,895 Pairing: Getting There…. Warnings: Flashbacks, references to wounds from previous chapters A/N: This chapter flips between (Y/N)’s POV and more of Dean’s POV. So sorry for the delay. Working F/T + homeschooling my kid + my husband having surgery.... it’s been busy.

Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Seventeen | Masterlist

*Dean’s POV

Dean glanced back at (Y/N) in the rear-view mirror of his beloved Impala. They had all gotten some rest at the cabin, and were even sorry to say goodbye to the place when they left for Bobby’s, but Sam and Dean knew it was the best place to go for now. Bobby could help them track the demon that had attacked (Y/N), for starters. (Y/N) would also be safe with Bobby, at his house, while the two brothers hunted the demon down. For now, she sat quietly and watched the scenery pass by. He knew she had questions, he would think she was crazy if she didn’t, but he didn’t want to be the one to bring them up. He and his brother had agreed, no more secrets with her, of any kind, but he didn’t have a single clue on how to broach the subject. Somehow, he didn’t think, ‘hey, sorry about that back there, we should have told you there as a demon in town,’ would be a good start.

Sam sat in the passenger side of the car, also watching the landscape go by in a blur. It was a rare moment when Sam wasn’t engulfed in his laptop or a book but Dean figured they could all use a break for a minute, even from research. Classic rock resonated from the speakers, just barely loud enough for the three of them to register it. Other than that, the sound of the vehicle on the highway was all that could be heard. Oddly enough, the ride seemed less tense than some of the drives they had taken previously. Maybe it was because Dean had also decided that he would stop trying to distance himself from (Y/N). She was apparently in it for the long haul, so what was the point? More importantly, he knew it was his actions that had pushed her out the motel door and into the demon’s grip. It was his fault she had been strung up and essentially tortured. There was a lot of work to do to try make up for his stupidity and the pain it had caused. His grip tightened on the wheel as he subconsciously clenched his jaw, thinking back on it.

---- *(Y/N)’s POV

The drive to Bobby’s was long. Despite being back with Sam and Dean, and even with Dean acting like a caring human for once, you’d never felt so alone. You tried not to think about all of the things you had learned, or remembered, over the past week. You chose, instead, to stare blankly out the rear window of the Impala. In spite of your efforts, the memories continued to surface in your mind.

You were an only child, and your parents were the only family you had ever had. Sure, you had friends and you had dated before, but your parents were your only blood. Now they were gone, and you were really, truly alone. To top it off, you knew you could never go home, either. You could never go to their graves and weep for them or try to apologize. You were surprised you hadn’t been arrested by now. Did the police not know you were the culprit? They must have found fingerprints all over your parents’ home left by you and the black-eyed man, whoever he was. Maybe they were searching for you now. Were you putting Sam and Dean at risk? Would they be charged for harboring a fugitive? You had no idea. A tear slipped down your face as your emotions became too much. You quickly wiped it away and ducked your head, suddenly very interested in your hands.

“(Y/N)?” It was Dean’s that spoke. It was odd hearing his tone laced with concern.

“Hmm?” you couldn’t bring yourself to verbalize a reply, the tears threatening to spill over.

“You ok?” he asked softly.

You nodded, refusing to look up, and tried to take a steady breath. You felt exhausted.

“What’s goin on in that head?” Sam’s attention was on you, now.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up, your gaze meeting the younger Winchester’s. Concern was etched into his features as his hazel eyes searched yours.

“I, um,” you glanced away, unable to finish the thought while looking at him. You closed your eyes before continuing, “I think might have done something, something before meeting you.”

You hadn’t meant to talk about it now, but the words slipped out before you could catch them. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and fought the abrupt urge to open the car door and jump out. The prospect of being ran over suddenly became more appealing than continuing the conversation. Opening your eyes once more, you focused again on your hands, picking anxiously at the cuticle of your thumb nail.

“Something like what, (Y/N)?” Sam pressed.

“I’m not sure, I think I might have hurt some people…” you trailed off, remembering the nightmares you had had since leaving the hospital with the Winchesters. If you killed your parents, did that mean the nightmares were real? Had you hurt anyone else?

“Why,” Dean cleared his throat, “Why do you, uh, say that?”

Daring to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror, you whispered, “I think I remember it.”

It was silent for what felt like a lifetime. You missed the shared look between the brothers in the front seat as you went back to staring at your hands.

“What do you remember?” the younger man turned toward you.

“I, um, well, I’m not….sure,” you finished lamely, they would think you were crazy if you told them the subway story, you were sure of it.

“Do you remember meeting us, before the hospital?�� Dean’s eyes found yours in the mirror once more as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

You nodded slowly, forcing yourself to maintain the eye contact. You couldn’t find the words to answer him. This wasn’t the direction you wanted to take the conversation and that asphalt under the tires was becoming more tempting by the second.

“All of it?” he barely whispered, his gaze flitting between the rearview mirror and the road at an alarming rate.

You shook your head, looking back at your hands before replying, “I remember a warehouse, or something- um, some kind of empty building… and fighting with the two of you. It’s--” you swallowed, emotion bubbling up within you, “um, kind of hazy, but I remember being tied to a chair.” Tears began to slowly spill from your eyes.

“Is that why you ran?”

You nodded, closing your eyes tightly.

“(Y/N),” Sam’s voice was raw with emotion. Just the way he said your name almost sounded like he was pleading with you.

Dean pulled the Impala off of the highway and onto a dirt road that stretched out toward a farm in the distance. You wrapped your arms about your waist, trying to cling to something- anything- and to hold yourself together. You were so confused, all of the distorted memories and nightmares swirled in your mind, pooling and muddling together. Your resolve began to crumble as tears streamed freely down your face. You held your breath in an attempt to keep from sobbing.

You faintly registered the sound of car doors opening and shutting as you held yourself. Suddenly, the warmth of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you sideways into a broad chest. The scent of leather with faded hints of fire overwhelmed you. You buried your face in your hands as you continued to cry, trying desperately to keep yourself from breaking down entirely.

“Let it out,” Dean soothed as he rubbed circles on your back, letting you cry into his shirt. You briefly wondered why it was Dean, why not Sam? The thought left as soon as it came as Dean rocked you slowly, holding you together for you as you let go.

--- *Dean’s POV

Sam and Dean had exited the car together, just as soon as the car was parked. The younger Winchester leaned against the hood of the Impala, running his hands through his long hair, while his older brother climbed into the back seat with (Y/N). God, she was hurt. Confusion was evident in her tone as she relayed what few images she had pieced together, and Dean felt like shit. He should have listened to Sam. He should have told her everything, the moment they brought her back to that first motel with them.

The memories of those first few days with (Y/N) came rushing back as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. Sam had left the motel, went to get supplies or something, leaving Dean and (Y/N) alone. Out of genuine concern he had helped her tend to the wound on her head, regret filling him to his core as he did. He knew she only had stitches because of them. The hunt had gone all wrong, and they had ended up fighting her into submission and into that stupid chair. They exorcised the demon and saved the girl, or so he had thought. He had no idea how broken she was and how much work there was left before she could be considered ‘saved.’

“Let it out,” his voice was rough with emotion as he rubbed circles on her back, urging her to relax, to breathe. He knew he and Sam had a lot to explain but that could wait. Right now, she needed to get this out of her system and he didn’t intend to let her do it on her own.

Sam began pacing outside of the car. He knew Dean had (Y/N), he knew his brother cared for her and knew she was in good hands, but none of that knowledge seemed to quell the anxiety within him. He checked the watch on his wrist every few minutes, not wanting to delay getting to Bobby’s. He had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, urging him not to linger in one place for too long. After fifteen minutes he slid back into the passenger seat of the car, looking behind him at his brother and (Y/N). Dean’s shirt was soaked in tears and his eyes welled with emotion while he held her tightly to him. She looked small and vulnerable against his brother. He met his Dean’s gaze and the elder Winchester nodded; he knew they needed to head out. After a moment of hesitation, he instructed Sam to drive, he would sit in the back with (Y/N) for a bit. The keys still hung in the ignition, making it easy for Sam to slide over into the driver seat and start the car back up.

The uneasy feeling that he had was growing ever stronger, pushing him to move faster than he would have normally. He turned the car around and got back onto the highway, accelerating until he was well over the speed limit. If Dean or (Y/N) noticed the speed they didn’t say anything. Dean continued to hold onto their upset friend until she relaxed in his arms and eventually fell asleep, the emotions having taken a toll on her. Sam couldn’t explain the urgency behind his movements or why he suddenly felt so anxious, he only knew they needed to get to Bobby’s, and fast.

----

Next Chapter

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fic #eventual dean x reader #larki writes #larkiwrites #larkiwrites redemption #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader pov #reader insert #y/n

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